"I was in the bas.e.m.e.nt, photocopying," I lie. Jack lips press into a thin, uncompromis- ing line.

"I'm leaving for my plane at six thirty. I need you to stay until then."

"Okay." I smile as sweetly as I can manage."I'd like my itinerary for New York printed out and photocopied ten times. And get the brochures packaged up. And get me some coffee!" he snarls and stalks into his offce.

I breathe a sigh of relief and stick my tongue out at him as he closes the door. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

At four o'clock, Claire rings from reception.

"I have Mia Grey for you."

Mia? I hope she doesn't want to hang at the mall.

"Hi, Mia!"

"Ana, hi. How are you?" Her excitement is stifing.

"Good. Busy today. You?"

"I am so bored! I need to fnd something to do, so I'm arranging a birthday party for Christian."

Christian's birthday? Jeez, I had no idea. "When is it?"

"I knew it. I knew he wouldn't tell you. It's on Sat.u.r.day. Mom and Dad want everyone over for a meal to celebrate. I'm offcially inviting you."

"Oh, that's lovely. Thank you, Mia."

"I've already called Christian and told him, and he gave me your number here."

"Cool." My mind is in a fat spin-what the h.e.l.l am I going to get Christian for his birthday? What do you buy the man who has everything?

"And maybe next week, we can go out one lunchtime?"

"Sure. How about tomorrow? My boss is away in New York."

"Oh, that would be cool, Ana. What time?"

"Say, twelve forty-fve?"

"I'll be there. Bye, Ana."

"Bye." I hang up.

Christian. Birthday. What on earth should I get him?

From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Antediluvian Date: June 15, 2011 16:11 To: Christian Grey Dear Mr. Grey When, exactly, were you going to tell me?

What shall I get my old man for his birthday?

Perhaps some new batteries for his hearing aid?

A x Anastasia Steele a.s.sistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian Grey Subject: Prehistoric Date: June 15, 2011 16:20 To: Anastasia Steele Don't mock the elderly.

Glad you are alive and kicking.

And that Mia has been in touch.

Batteries are always useful.

I don't like celebrating my birthday.

x Christian Grey, Deaf as a Post CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Hmmm.

Date: June 15, 2011 16:24 To: Christian Grey Dear Mr. Grey I can imagine you pouting as you wrote that last sentence.

That does things to me.

A xox Anastasia Steele a.s.sistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP From: Christian Grey Subject: Rolling Eyes Date: June 15, 2011 16:29 To: Anastasia Steele Miss Steele WILL YOU USE YOUR BLACKBERRY!!!

x Christian Grey Twitchy Palmed, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I roll my eyes. Why is he so touchy about e-mails?From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Inspiration Date: June 15, 2011 16:33 To: Christian Grey Dear Mr. Grey Ah ... your twitchy palms can't stay still for long, can they?

I wonder what Dr. Flynn would say about that?

But now I know what to give you for your birthday-and I hope it makes me sore ...

;) A x From: Christian Grey Subject: Angina Date: June 15, 2011 16:38 To: Anastasia Steele Miss Steele I don't think my heart could stand the strain of another e-mail like that, or my pants for that matter.

Behave.

x Christian Grey CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Trying Date: June 15, 2011 16:42 To: Christian Grey Christian I am trying to work for my very trying boss.

Please stop bothering me and being trying yourself.

Your last e-mail nearly made me combust.

x PS: Can you collect me at 6:30?

From: Christian Grey Subject: I'll Be There Date: June 15, 2011 16:38To: Anastasia Steele Nothing would give me greater pleasure.

Actually, I can think of any of number of things that would give me greater pleasure, and they all involve you.

x Christian Grey CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I fush reading his response and shake my head. E-mail banter is all well and good, but we really need to talk. Perhaps once we've seen Flynn. I put my Blackberry down and fnish my petty cash reconciliation.

By six ffteen, the offce is deserted. I have everything ready for Jack. His cab to the airport is booked, and I just have to hand him his doc.u.ments. I glance anxiously through the gla.s.s, but he's still deep in his telephone call, and I don't want to interrupt him-not in the mood he's in today.

As I wait for him to fnish, it occurs to me that I have not eaten today. Oh s.h.i.t, that's not going to go down well with Fifty. I quickly skip down to the kitchen to see if there are any cookies left.

As I'm opening the communal cookie jar, Jack appears unexpectedly in the kitchen doorway, startling me.

Oh. What's he doing here?

He stares at me. "Well, Ana, I think this might be a good time to discuss your misde- meanors." He steps in, closing the door behind him, and my mouth instantly dries as alarm bells ring loud and piercing in my head.

Oh f.u.c.k.

His lips twitch into a grotesque smile, and his eyes gleam a deep, dark cobalt. "At last, I have you on your own," he says, and he slowly licks his lower lip.

What?

"Now ... are you going to be a good girl and listen very carefully to what I say?"

CHAPTER 16

Jack's eyes fash the darkest blue, and he sneers as he casts a leering look down my body.

Fear chokes me. What is this? What does he want? From somewhere deep inside and despite my dry mouth, I fnd the resolve and courage to squeeze out some words, my self- defense cla.s.s keep-them-talking mantra circling my brain like an ethereal sentinel.

"Jack, now might not be a good time for this. Your cab is due in ten minutes, and I need to give you all your doc.u.ments." My voice is quiet but hoa.r.s.e, betraying me.

He smiles, and it's a despotic f.u.c.k-you smile that fnally touches his eyes. They glint in the harsh fuorescent glow of the strip light above us in the drab windowless room. He takes a step toward me, glaring at me, his eyes never leaving mine. His pupils are dilating as I watch-the black eclipsing the blue. Oh no. My fear escalates.

"You know I had to fght with Elizabeth to give you this job ..." His voice trails off as he takes another step toward me, and I step back against the dingy wall cupboards. Keep- him-talking, keep-him-talking, keep-him-talking.

"Jack, what exactly is your problem? If you want to air your grievances, then perhaps we should ask HR to get involved. We could do this with Elizabeth in a more formal set- ting."

Where is security? Are they in the building yet?"We don't need HR to overmanage this situation Ana," he sneers. "When I hired you, I thought you would be a hard worker. I thought you had potential. But now, I don't know.

You've become distracted and sloppy. And I wondered ... is it your boyfriend who's lead- ing you astray?" He says boyfriend with chilling contempt.

"I decided to check through your e-mail account to see if I could fnd any clues. And you know what I found, Ana? What was out of place? The only personal e-mails in your account were to your hot-shot boyfriend." He pauses, a.s.sessing my reaction. "And I got to thinking ... where are the e-mails from him? There are none. Nada. Nothing. So what's going on, Ana? How come his e-mails to you aren't on our system? Are you some company spy, planted in here by Grey's organization? Is that what this is?"

Holy s.h.i.t, the e-mails. Oh no. What have I said?

"Jack, what are you talking about?" I try for bewildered, and I'm pretty convincing.

This conversation is not going as I expected, but I don't trust him in the slightest. Some subliminal pheromone that Jack is exuding has me on high alert. This man is angry, vola- tile, and totally unpredictable. I try to reason with him.

"You just said that you had to persuade Elizabeth to hire me. So how could I be planted as a spy? Make up your mind, Jack."

"But Grey f.u.c.ked the New York trip, didn't he?"

Oh s.h.i.t.

"How did he manage that, Ana? What did your rich, Ivy League boyfriend do?"

What little blood remains in my face drains away, and I think I'm going to faint. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jack," I whisper. "Your cab will be here shortly.

Shall I fetch your things?" Oh please, let me go. Stop this.

Jack continues, enjoying my discomfort. "And he thinks I'd make a pa.s.s at you?" He smirks and his eyes heat. "Well, I want you to think about something while I'm in New York. I gave you this job, and I expect you to show me some grat.i.tude. In fact, I'm ent.i.tled to it. I had to fght to get you. Elizabeth wanted someone better qualifed, but I-I saw something in you. So, we need to work out a deal. A deal where you keep me happy. D'you understand what I'm saying, Ana?"

f.u.c.k!

"Look at it as refning your job description, if you like. And if you keep me happy, I won't dig any further into how your boyfriend is pulling strings, milking his contacts, or cashing in some favor from one of his Ivy League frat-boy sycophants."

My mouth drops open. He's blackmailing me. For s.e.x! And what can I say? News of Christian's takeover is embargoed for another three weeks. I can barely believe this. s.e.x- with me!

Jack moves closer until he's standing right in front of me, staring down into my eyes.

His cloying sweet cologne invades my nostrils-it's nauseating-and if I'm not mistaken, the bitter stench of alcohol is on his breath. f.u.c.k, he's been drinking ... when?

"You are such a tight-a.s.sed, c.o.c.k-blocking, p.r.i.c.k tease, you know, Ana," he whispers through clenched teeth.

What? p.r.i.c.k tease ... Me?

"Jack, I have no idea what you're talking about," I whisper, as I feel the adrenaline surge through my body. He's closer now. I am waiting to make my move. Ray will be proud. Ray taught me what to do. Ray knows his self-defense. If Jack touches me-if he even breathes too close to me-I will take him down. My breath is shallow. I must not faint, I must not faint.

"Look at you." He gives me a leering look. "You're so turned on, I can tell. You've really led me on. Deep down you want it. I know."

Holy f.u.c.k. The man is completely delusional. My fear rises to defcon one, threatening to overwhelm me. "No, Jack. I have never led you on."

"You have, you p.r.i.c.k-teasing b.i.t.c.h. I can read the signs." Reaching up, he gently strokes my face with the back of his knuckles, down to my chin. His index fnger strokes my throat, and my heart leaps into my mouth as I fght my gag refex. He reaches the dip at the base of my neck, where the top b.u.t.ton of my black shirt is open, and presses his hand against my chest.

"You want me. Admit it, Ana."

Keeping my eyes frmly fxed on his and concentrating on what I have to do-rather than my mushrooming revulsion and dread-I place my hand gently over his in a caress.

He smiles in triumph. I grab his little fnger, and twist it back, pulling it sharply down backward to his hip.

"Arrgh!" he cries out in pain and surprise, and as he leans off balance, I bring my knee, swift and hard, up into his groin, and make perfect contact with my goal. I dodge deftly to my left as his knees buckle, and he collapses with a groan onto the kitchen foor, grasping himself between his legs.