Chapter 112


    That piece of shit is dead if I ever get ahold of him.


    I run my hand down Ana’s back, my fingers stroking her skin. Grounding me. Calming me. “If anything


    happened to you.” The thought is unbearable.


    “I know. I feel the same about you.” She shivers.


    “Come. You’re getting cold.” I sit up, taking her with me. “Let’s go to bed. We can cover third base


    there.”


    Monday, August 22, 2011


    To our relief, there are no photographers outside SIP when we pull up in the Q7. I’m hoping that the


    intense press scrutiny and intrusion into our lives will now ease off. Ana gathers up her briefcase when


    Ryan stops the car, and I can’t resist one more try. “You know you don’t have to do this.”


    “I know,” she answers quietly, so Ryan and Sawyer can’t hear. “But I want to. You know this.” Her sweet


    kiss does little to mollify me. We both have to go back to reality. Don’t we?


    “What’s wrong?” she asks, and I realize I’m frowning.


    I’m not going to see her until this evening. We’ve spent thest three weeks or so in each other’s


    seize my opportunity. “I’ll miss having you to myself.”


    She ces her palm on my cheek. “Me, too.” Her lips brush mine. “It was a wonderful honeymoon.


    Thank you.”


    It was for me as well, Ana.


    “Go to work, Mrs. Grey.”


    “You, too, Mr. Grey.”


    Sawyer opens her door, she squeezes my hand, and I watch both of them head into the building.


    “Take me to Grey House,” I instruct Ryan, and stare out of the window. It’s a cooler, cloudy day—a


    precise match for my mood. I’m strangely out of sorts. Perhaps this is what Ana was feeling yesterday,


    though she never managed to articte it to me.


    If this was what you were experiencing, Ana, I get it. It’s a case of the post-honeymoon blues.


    As Ryan and I walk up to the entrance at Grey House I notice Barry and an additional security guard


    who I don’t recognize on the other side of the ss doors. Barry typically stands by the elevator, and is


    usually the only security operative in reception.


    “Good morning, Mr. Grey. Wee back,” he says as he holds open the door.


    “Thank you, Barry. Good morning.”


    They are checking that all GEH staff are wearing their passes. I’m not wearing mine, but then I’m the


    exception to the rule. Welch was not lying when he said he was doubling down on all our security


    measures.


    Greeting both of the receptionists with a salute, I head to the elevators. They both wave back, and I


    notice they’re wearing their passes, too. It’s reassuring.


    Andrea and Sarah look up as the elevator doors open; each have IDnyards. “Wee back, Mr.


    Grey,” Andrea says.


    “Good morning. How are you? Oh, these are for you and Sarah.” I ce a bag that contains arge


    box of choctes—from Ladurée, near the Jardin des Tuileries in Paris—that Ana insisted I buy for


    them on the desk. Andrea blushes, speechless.


    Yes. I don’t me her. Apart from her wedding present, this is a first.


    “Thank you,” Sarah blurts, eyeing the bag with keen interest.


    “You’re wee. I would have bought some of their world-famous macarons, too, but was advised that


    the choctes have a longer shelf life.”


    “Thank you, Mr. Grey,” Andrea says, recovering herposure. “Coffee?”


    “Please. ck.”


    “Coming up.”


    I head into my office, leaving Sarah’s giggles and Andrea’s quiet hushing behind me. Rolling my eyes, I


    shut the door and cut off their chatter.


    At my desk, I call Welch for an update on Jack Hyde.


    Once that call is over, I e-mail Ana, wondering how she is adapting to life back at SIP.


    From: Christian Grey


    Subject: Bubble


    Date: August 22 2011 09:32


    To: Anastasia Grey


    Mrs. Grey


    Love covering all the bases with you.


    Have a great first day back.


    Còntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    Miss our bubble already.


    x


    Christian Grey


    Back in the Real World CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.


    My phone buzzes. “Mr. Grey, I have your father on the line,” Andrea says.


    “Put him through.”


    “Christian, you called?”


    “Dad.” I tell him everything that has happened with Jack Hyde since I fired him in mid-June. “His


    vendetta against me is out of hand. We’re submitting the server room footage to the FBI and the police.


    They can press charges. They just have to locate him first. But given what we found on his hard drive, I


    think I should extend our security protocols to you, Mom, Mia, and Elliot.”


    “That seems excessive.”


    “Dad, he’s a bright guy. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”


    Carrick blows out a breath. “Well, if you think it’s necessary.”


    “I do. We were followed from your house yesterday. He knows where you live.”


    “Fuck!”


    Dad!


    My father sighs. “Get on it. I’ll talk to Mom and Mia.”


    “I’ll tell Elliot.”


    “Thanks, Christian. I’m sorry it’se to this.”


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