Fifty Shades Darker

"And I've been commissioned to do some landscapes for the Portland Tourist Authority. Pretty cool, huh?" he finishes proudly.

"Oh Jose - that's wonderful. Not interfering with your studies though?" I frown at him.

"Nah. Now that you guys have gone and three of the guys I used to hang out with, I have more time."

"No hot babe to keep you busy? Last time I saw you, you had half a dozen women hanging on your every word." I arch an eyebrow at him.

"Nah, Ana. None of them are woman enough for me." He's all bravado.

"Oh sure. Jose Rodriguez, lady killer." I giggle.

"Hey - I have my moments, Steele." He looks vaguely hurt, and I am chastened.

"Sure you do." I mollify him.

"So, how's Grey?" he asks, his tone changing, becoming cooler.

"He's good. We're good," I murmur.

"Serious, you say?"

"Yes. Serious."

"He's not too old for you?"

"Oh Jose. You know what my mom says - I was born old."

Jose's mouth twists wryly.

"How is your mom?" And like that, we are out of the danger zone.

"Ana!"

I turn and there's Kate with Ethan. She looks gorgeous: sun-kissed, bleached strawber-ry-blond hair, golden tan, and beaming white smile, and so shapely in her white cami and tight white jeans. All eyes are on Kate. I leap up from my seat to give her a hug. Oh how I've missed this woman!

She pushes me away from her and holds me at arm's length, examining me closely. I flush under her intense gaze.

"You've lost weight. A lot of weight. And you look different. Grown up. What's been going on?" she says, all mother hen, concerned and bossy. "I like your dress. Suits you."

"A lot's happened since you went away. I'll tell you later when we're on our own." I am not ready for the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition just yet. She regards me suspiciously.

"You're okay?" she asks gently.

"Yes," I smile, though I'd be happier knowing where Christian is.

"Cool."

"Hi, Ethan." I grin at him, and he gives me a quick hug.

"Hi, Ana," he whispers in my ear.

Jose frowns at him.

"How was lunch with Mia?" I ask Ethan.

"Interesting," he says cryptically.

Oh?

"Ethan - you know Jose?"

"We've met once," Jose mutters, assessing Ethan as they shake hands.

"Yeah, at Kate's place in Vancouver," Ethan says, smiling pleasantly at Jose. "Right -

who's for a drink?"

I make my way to the restrooms. While there I text Christian our location; perhaps he'll join us. There are no missed calls from him and no e-mails. This is not like him.

"Whassup, Ana?" Jose asks as I come back to the table.

"I can't reach Christian. I hope he's okay."

"He'll be fine. Like another beer?"

"Sure."

Kate leans across. "Ethan says some mad stalker ex-girlfriend was in the apartment with a gun?"

"Well... yeah." I shrug apologetically. Oh jeez - do we have to do this now?

"Ana - what the hell's been going on?" Kate stops abruptly and checks her phone.

"Hi, baby," she says when she answers it. Baby! She frowns and looks at me. "Sure,"

she says and turns to me. "It's Elliot... he wants to talk to you."

"Ana." Elliot's voice is clipped and quiet, and my scalp prickles ominously.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Christian. He's not back from Portland."

"What? What do you mean?"

"His helicopter has gone missing."

"Charlie Tango?" I whisper as all the breath leaves my body. "No!"

Chapter Nineteen

I stare at the flames, mesmerized. They dance and weave bright blazing orange with tips of cobalt blue in the fireplace in Christian's apartment. And despite the heat pumping out of the fire and the blanket draped around my shoulders, I'm cold. Bone-chillingly cold.

I'm aware of hushed voices, many hushed voices. But they're in the background, a distant buzz. I don't hear the words. All I can hear, all I can focus on, is the soft hiss of the gas from the fire.

My thoughts turn to the house we saw yesterday and the huge fireplaces - real fireplaces for burning wood. I'd like to make love with Christian in front of a real fire. I'd like to make love with Christian in front of this fire. Yes, that would be fun. No doubt, he'd think of some way to make it memorable like all the times we've made love. I snort wryly to myself, even the times when we were just f**king. Yes, those were pretty memorable, too. Where is he?

The flames shimmy and flicker, holding me captive, keeping me numb. I focus solely on their flaring, scorching beauty. They are bewitching.

Anastasia, you've bewitched me.

He said that the first time he slept with me in my bed. Oh no...

I wrap my arms around myself, and the world falls away from me and reality bleeds into my consciousness. The creeping emptiness inside expands some more. Charlie Tango is missing.

"Ana. Here," Mrs. Jones gently coaxes me, her voice bringing me back into the room, into the now, into the anguish. She hands me a cup of tea. I take the cup and saucer gratefully, the rattle betraying my shaking hands.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice hoarse from unshed tears and the large lump in my throat.

Mia sits across from me on the larger-than-large U-shaped couch, holding hands with Grace. They gaze at me, pain and anxiety etched on their lovely faces. Grace looks older -

a mother worried for her son. I blink dispassionately at them. I can't offer a reassuring smile, a tear even - there's nothing, just blankness and the growing emptiness. I gaze at Elliot, Jose, and Ethan, who stand around the breakfast bar, all serious faces, talking quietly.