What would Jack think if he knew? I shudder at the thought and wonder idly how he's spent his morning, not in New York as he expected. I stroll into his - my office - sit down at the desk, and start reading the job description.

At twelve thirty, Elizabeth buzzes me.

"Ana, we need you in a meeting at one o'clock in the boardroom. Jerry Roach and Kay Bestie will be there - you know, the company president and vice president? All the commissioning editors will be attending."

Shit!

"Do I need to prepare anything?"

"No, this is just an informal gathering we do once a month. Lunch will be provided."

"I'll be there." I hang up.

Holy shit! I check through the current roster of Jack's authors. Yes, I've pretty much got those nailed. I have the five manuscripts he's championing, plus two more, which should really be considered for publication. I take a deep breath - I cannot believe it's lunchtime already. The day has flown by, and I'm loving it. There has been so much to absorb this morning. A ping from my calendar announces an appointment.

Oh no - Mia! In all the excitement I have forgotten about our lunch. I fish out my Blackberry and try frantically to find her phone number.

My phone buzzes.

"It's him, in reception." Claire's voice is hushed.

"Who?" For a moment, I think it might be Christian.

"The blond god."

"Ethan?"

Oh, what does he want? I immediately feel guilty for not having called him.

Ethan, dressed in a checked blue shirt, white T-shirt, and jeans, beams at me when I appear.

"Wow! You look hot, Steele," he says, nodding appreciatively. He gives me a quick hug."Is everything okay?" I ask.

He frowns. "Everything's fine, Ana. I just wanted to see you. I've not heard from you in a while, and I wanted to check how Mr. Mogul was treating you."

I flush and can't help my smile.

"Okay!" Ethan exclaims, holding up his hands. "I can tell by the secret smile. I don't want to know any more. I came by on the off chance you could do lunch. I'm enrolling at Seattle for psych courses in September. For my master's."

"Oh Ethan. So much has happened. I have a ton to tell you, but right now, I can't. I have a meeting." An idea hits me hard. "And I wonder if you can do me a really, really, really big favor?" I clasp my hands together in supplication.

"Sure," he says, bemused by my pleading.

"I'm supposed to be having lunch with Christian and Elliot's sister - but I can't get hold of her, and this meeting's just been sprung on me. Please will you take her for lunch?

Please?"

"Aw, Ana! I don't want to babysit some brat."

"Please, Ethan." I give him the biggest-bluest-longest-eye-lashed look that I can manage. He rolls his eyes and I know I've got him.

"You'll cook me something?" he mutters.

"Sure, whatever, whenever."

"So where is she?"

"She's due here now." And as if on cue, I hear her voice.

"Ana!" she calls from the front door.

We both turn, and there she is - all curvaceous and tall with her sleek black bob -

wearing a short mint-green minidress and matching high-heeled pumps with straps around her slim ankles. She looks stunning.

"The brat?" he whispers, gaping at her.

"Yes. The brat that needs babysitting," I whisper back. "Hi, Mia." I give her a quick hug as she stares rather blatantly at Ethan.

"Mia - this is Ethan, Kate's brother."

He nods, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Mia blinks several times as she gives him her hand.

"Delighted to meet you," Ethan murmurs smoothly and Mia blinks again - silent for once. She blushes.

Holy cow. I don't think I've ever seen her blush.

"I can't make lunch," I say lamely. "Ethan has agreed to take you, if that's okay? Can we have a rain check?"

"Sure," she says quietly. Mia quiet, this is novel.

"Yeah, I'll take it from here. Laters, Ana," Ethan says, offering Mia his arm. She accepts it with a shy smile.

"Bye, Ana." Mia turns to me and mouths, "Oh. My. God!" giving me an exaggerated wink. Jeez... she likes him! I wave at them as they leave the building. I wonder what Christian's attitude is about his sister dating? The thought makes me uneasy. She's my age, so he can't object, can he?

This is Christian we're dealing with. My snarky subconscious is back, hatchet-mouthed, cardigan and purse in the crook of her arm. I shake off the image. Mia is a grown woman and Christian can be reasonable, can't he? I dismiss the thought and head back to Jack's...

er... my office to prep for the meeting.

It's three thirty when I return. The meeting went well. I have even secured approval to progress the two manuscripts I was championing. It's a heady feeling.

On my desk is an enormous wicker basket crammed with stunning white and pale pink roses. Wow - the fragrance alone is heavenly. I smile as I pick up the card. I know who sent them.

Congratulations, Miss Steele

And all on your own!

No help from your overfriendly, neighborhood, megalomaniac CEO

Love

Christian

I pick up my Blackberry to e-mail him.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Megalomaniac...

Date: June 16, 2011 15:43

To: Christian Grey

. . . is my favorite type of maniac. Thank you for the beautiful flowers. They've arrived in a huge wicker basket that makes me think of picnics and blankets.

x

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Fresh Air

Date: June 16, 2011 15:55

To: Anastasia Steele

Maniac, eh? Dr. Flynn may have something to say about that.

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