From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Indulging you Date: June 17, 2011 09:14 To: Christian Grey It's for your birthday.

Another surprise.

Don't be so petulant.

A x He doesn't reply immediately, and I'm called into a meeting so I can't dwell on it for too long.

When I next glance at my Blackberry, to my horror I realize it's four in the afternoon.

Where has the day gone? Still no message from Christian. I decide to e-mail him again.

From: Anastasia Steele Subject: h.e.l.lo Date: June 17, 2011 16:03 To: Christian GreyAre you not talking to me?

Don't forget I am going for a drink with Jose, and that he's staying with us tonight.

Please rethink about joining us.

A x He doesn't reply, and I feel a frisson of unease. I hope he's okay. Calling his mobile, I get his voicemail. The announcement simply says Grey, leave a message in his most clipped tone.

"Hi ... um ... it's me. Ana. Are you okay? Call me," I stutter through my message.

I've never had to leave one for him before. I fush as I hang up. Of course he'll know it's you, idiot! My subconscious rolls her eyes at me. I am tempted to ring his PA Andrea but decide that's a step too far. Reluctantly I continue my work.

My phone rings unexpectedly and my heart jumps. Christian! But no-it's Kate, my best friend fnally!

"Ana!" she shouts from wherever she is.

"Kate! Are you back? I've missed you."

"Me, too. I have so much to tell you. We're at Sea-Tac-me and my man." She giggles in a most un-Kate-like way.

"Cool. I have so much to tell you, too."

"See you back at the apartment?"

"I'm having drinks with Jose. Join us."

"Jose's in town? Sure! Text me where."

"Okay." I beam. My best friend is home. After all this time!

"You good, Ana?"

"Yeah, I'm fne."

"Still with Christian?"

"Yes."

"Good. Laters!"

Oh, not her as well. Elliot's infuence knows no bounds.

"Yeah-laters, baby." I grin and she hangs up.

Wow. Kate is home. How am I going to tell her all that has happened? I should write it down so I don't forget anything.

An hour later my offce phone rings-Christian? No, it's Claire.

"You should see the guy asking for you in reception. How come you know all these hot guys, Ana?"

Jose must be here. I glance at the clock-it's fve ffty-fve, and a small thrill of excite- ment pulses through me. I haven't seen him in ages."Ana, wow! You look great. So grown up." He grins at me.

Just because I'm wearing a smart dress ... jeez!

He hugs me hard. "And tall," he mutters in amazement.

"It's just the shoes, Jose. You don't look so bad yourself."

He's wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black and white check fannel shirt.

"I'll grab my things and we can go."

"Cool. I'll wait here."

I pick up two Rolling Rocks from the crowded bar and head over to the table where Jose is seated.

"You found Christian's place okay?"

"Yeah. I haven't been inside. I just delivered the photos to the service elevator. Some guy named Taylor took them up. Looks like quite a place."

"It is. You should see inside."

"Can't wait. Salud, Ana. Seattle agrees with you."

I fush as we clink bottles. It's Christian that agrees with me. "Salud. Tell me about your show and how it went."

He beams and launches into the story. He sold all but three of his photos, which has taken care of his student loans and left him some cash to spare.

"And I've been commissioned to do some landscapes for the Portland Tourist Author- ity. Pretty cool, huh?" he fnishes 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 fush 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, a.s.sessing 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.

"Wha.s.sup, Ana?" Jose asks as I come back to the table.

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

"He'll be fne. 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 h.e.l.l'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 p.r.i.c.kles 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 19