Fifty Shades: Submission and Strength

Chapter 9

The next morning, during her 9 a.m. maritime treaties course, a familiar name illuminated the screen of Ana's cell phone, startling her.

How is your morning Miss Steele? Just wanted to ensure you made it to school alright.

And that you didn't catch a cold from walking in the rain yesterday.

Ana quickly typed out a reply.

I'm fine. Thank you Sir...

She deleted the "Sir" part but still felt awkward using her Dom's first name, so she found a middle ground.

I'm fine. Thank you Mr. Grey.

Christian frowned, ignoring the suit-clad sycophants trying to impress him. He had already met with Sawyer at 7 a.m. and was now in his monthly executive meeting. Fuck. She's back to formalities. This woman has more walls than Fort Knox.

Meanwhile, Ana's attention had drifted away from her professor and on to a certain CEO a few miles away.

Shit. Did he want me to say more than that? He's probably busy. Then again, I don't want to be rude. She picked her phone back up.

How is your day going?

Christian's face lit up, shocking his employees. "Give me the stats on Delcam's latest performance earnings," he barked before looking back down at his phone.

Boring. Mergers and acquisitions is not nearly as exciting as it sounds Miss Steele.

Believe it or not, nor is a class on maritime treaty law. But you know what they say? If work is boring, you need to find a different line of work.

Crap, did I just inadvertently insult his job! Before she could hammer out an apology, she heard the unmistakable ping of another text.

Do enlighten me then. What are you studying? I have a break between meetings.

Christian was now fully engrossed in his phone, oblivious to the talking heads trying to curry his favor.

I'm learning about how partisan gridlock in Congress is screwing over America's interests in the Arctic as climate change opens up commercial shipping lanes and oil exploration opportunities. Thrilling stuff.

Please explain. You have a thrilling way of distilling complex topics. I'm curious to hear more.

His flattery never ceased to amaze her. No one had ever lavished such praise on her before. She chewed her lip, debating whether to continue her furtive messaging. She had never even once passed a note during high school — not to mention the fact that she had a limited number of text messages included in her phone plan. Fuck it. I know this lecture inside and out, and I can always pay for extra minutes if I run over.

We are actually ceding control over vital resources to economic competitors like Russia and even Norway simply because of reflexive opposition to the signing of the U.N. Treaty of the Sea. Politicians fear it will erode national sovereignty when in fact the only thing it is taking away is money and bargaining power.

Christian abruptly put a halt to the meeting, citing an important call he had to make before unceremoniously dismissing everyone from the room. He spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in his office, immersed in the intricacies of Arctic passageways and arcane international rulings with Ana via text and email.

That evening, he found himself at an emergency appointment with Dr. Flynn.

"I'm following her around like a fucking lovesick puppy dog John," Christian complained, pacing the room.

"Why?"

"How the fuck should I know," he bellowed, exasperated. "That's what I pay you for. You need to help me remedy this shit and get my head back in the game."

"Again, why?" Flynn asked, ignoring his patient's latest outburst.

Christian tolerated his psychiatrist, but at the moment he was about to deck him in the jaw.

"Because I'm a busy CEO. Because I'm her Dom. Because I'm ... ME. So cut the crap John. Tell me how to break this fucking spell she has over me so I can move on with my life and my dignity."

"Is that what you want? To move on? Never see her again?"

Flynn thought Christian might have accidentally given himself whiplash based on how fast his head shot up.

"Of course not. I just want to find a happy medium. This is a distraction. A silly infatuation. I need to get back to my old ways."

Flynn put down his notebook. Christian braced himself for the truth.

"I don't think you want to go back to your old ways — or you would have done it by now. You're clearly fascinated by this girl. Why not at the very least learn more about her?"

"Because John, she shuts me out at every opportunity. She barely deviates from the lines of her stupid contract. There are no gray areas for this woman!" Or color in her life for that matter.

"Then take it slowly," Flynn counseled his distraught patient. "She is obviously set in her ways and perhaps confused by the attention you are showering on her."

"She's downright disturbed by it. So am I," he grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Yet despite that, you have pushed her for more at every turn. Perhaps before she's able to offer you more of herself, however, you need give her a little more of yourself."

"And how do you expect me to do that? She won't take gifts John. Hell, I'm barred from even buying her a damn Valentine's Day card!"

"There are other ways to express affection than with money." Christian scoffed but Flynn carried on, undeterred by his patient's usual petulance. "If you want to know details about her life, you'll have to share a few from yours as well."

Christian suddenly rose to his feet. "Time's up John. I'll see you next week at our regularly scheduled appointment. In the meantime, I'll consider your advice."

Flynn smiled. You're welcome.