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—Do you want me to show you around? -ask.

"I'm sure you're too busy, Mr. Grey, and I have a long drive to make."

—Are you driving back to WSU6 in Vancouver? —He sounds surprised, even
worried. Look out the window. It has started to rain.
Well, you better drive carefully. —His tone is harsh, authoritarian. Why should
you worry? Have you got everything you need? -Add.

"Yes sir," I reply, putting the recorder in my purse. His eyes narrowed
speculatively.

—Thank you for the interview, Mr. Grey.

"The pleasure was all mine," he says, polite as always.

When I get up, he stands up and holds out his hand to me.

"Until we meet again, Miss Steele." —And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat,
I'm not sure what. I frown. When will we meet again? I shake his hand once
more, amazed that this strange energy between us is still there. It must be my
nerves.

-Mr. Flock. —I nod towards him. Moving with lithe athletic elegance toward the
door, he opens it wide.

"Just making sure you get to the door, Ms. Steele." —He gives me a small smile.
He's obviously referring to my previous inelegant entry into his office.
I blush.

“That's very thoughtful, Mr. Grey,” I snap, and his smile widens. "I'm glad you
find me entertaining, " I frown inwardly, walking toward the lobby. I'm shocked
when I still out. Andrea and Olivia look up, equally surprised.

"Do you have a coat?" Gray asks.

-Yeah. —Olivia jumps up and retrieves my jacket, which is snatched away by

Gray before she can hand it to me. She holds it and, feeling ridiculously shy, I
shrink into it. Gray places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at
the contact. If you notice my reaction, says nothing. His long index finger
presses the button summoning the elevator, and we stand waiting…

6WSU: Washington State University (University of Washington).

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clumsily on my part, coldly self-possessed on his. The doors open, and I rush
inside, desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here.
When I turn to look at him, he's leaning against the door next to the elevator
with one hand on the wall. It's really very, very attractive. It's a distraction. His
fiery gray eyes look at me.

“Anastasia,” he says as a farewell.

"Christian," I reply. And thank God, the doors close.

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Episode 2

M
My heart is pounding. The elevator reaches the first floor and I
I rush out as soon as the doors open, stumbling once,
but fortunately without falling on the immaculate sandstone floor. I
run through the wide glass doors and am free in the cool, clean, humid Seattle
air. Raising my face, I welcome the refreshing rain. I close my eyes, take a deep,
cleansing breath and try to regain what's left of my balance.

No man has affected me the way Christian Gray has and I can't understand why.
Is it his appearance? Their education? Wealth? Can? I do not understand my
irrational reaction. I exhale a great sigh of relief. What, in the name of the
heavens, was all that? Leaning against one of the building's steel pillars, I
valiantly try to calm myself and collect my thoughts. I shake my head. Holy shit,
what was that? My heart stabilizes at its regular rate and I can breathe normally
again. I head to the car.

As I leave the city limits behind, I start to feel stupid and embarrassed as I replay
the interview in my mind. I am certainly overreacting to something that is
imaginary. Okay, so he's very attractive, confident, dominant, comfortable with
himself... but on the other hand, he's arrogant and because of his impeccable
manners, he's autocratic and cold. Well, on the surface. An involuntary shiver
runs down my spine. He may be arrogant, but then he has a right to be: he has
achieved so much at such a young age. He doesn't suffer fools, but why would
he? Again, I'm irritated that Kate didn't give me a brief bio.

As I travel down I-57 my mind continues to wander. I'm really stumped as to

what makes someone so motivated to succeed. Some of his answers were so
cryptic, as if he had a hidden agenda. And Kate's questions, ugh! Adoption and
asking him if he was gay! I shudder. I can not believe

7
I-5: Interstate 5

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I said that. Earth, swallow me now! Every time I think about that question in the future, I will tremble
with shame. Damn Katherine Kavanagh!

I check the speedometer. I'm driving more cautiously than I would on any other occasion. And I
know it's the memory of two piercing gray eyes looking at me, and a stern voice telling me to drive
carefully. Shaking my head, I realize that Gray is more like a man twice his age.

Forget it Ana, he scolded me. I decide that overall it has been a very interesting experience, but I
shouldn't think about it. Forget it. I never have to see him again. I'm immediately excited about the
idea. I turn on the MP3 player and turn up the volume, sit back and listen to the thump of indie rock
music as I press the accelerator. As I enter I-5, I realize that I can drive as fast as I want.

We live in a small duplex community in Vancouver, Washington, near the WSU campus. I'm lucky:
Kate's parents bought the place for her and I pay a pittance in rent. It's been my home for four years
now. As I pull up outside, I know Kate will want a very detailed story and is stubborn.

Well, at least you have the mini recorder. Luckily I won't have to explain much more than what was
said during the interview.

-Ana! You're back. —Kate is in our living room, surrounded by books. She has clearly studied for
her final exams, even though she is still in her pink flannel pajamas decorated with cute bunnies,
which she reserves for after breaking up with her boyfriends, for various illnesses, and for
depressive states in general. He advances towards me and hugs me tightly. I was starting to worry.
I was hoping you'd come back earlier.

—Ah, I thought it took me little time, considering that the interview was prolonged. —I move the
mini recorder towards her.

—Ana, thank you very much for doing this. I'm in debt, I know. As was? How was he? —Oh, no...
here we go, the Katherine Kavanagh Interrogation.

I make an effort to answer her question. What can I say?

"I'm glad it's over and I don't have to see it again." It was pretty intimidating, you know. -I shrug-. He
is very focused, even intense and young. Very young.

Kate looks at me innocently. I frown at him.

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—Don't look so innocent. Why did not you give me a biography? He made me feel like an idiot for
limiting myself to basic research. —Kate puts a hand over her mouth.

—Geez, Ana, I'm sorry... I didn't think.

I snort.

—For the most part he was polite and formal, a little stuffy, as if he were old before his time. He does
not speak as a man in his twenties. How old is he anyway?

-Twenty seven. For God's sake, Ana, I'm sorry. I should have told you, but I was so panicked. Give me
the mini recorder and I will start transcribing the interview.

-You look better. Have you had your soup? —I ask, ready to change the subject.

—Yes and it was delicious, as always. I feel better. —He smiles at me gratefully. I look at my watch.

-I have to run. I can still do my shift at Clayton's.

—Ana, you will be exhausted.

-I'll be fine. I will see you later.

I have worked at Clayton's since I started at WSU. It's the largest independent tool store in the
Portland area, over the four years I've worked here I've gotten to know a bit about most of the products
we sell...although ironically I suck at HTM8
. I leave all that to my dad.
I'm more of a curl-up-with-a-book-in-a-comfortable-chair-by-the-fire type of girl. I'm glad I can do my
shift as it gives me something to focus on other than Christian Grey. We're busy: It's the start of the
summer season, and people are redecorating their homes. Mrs. Clayton is delighted to see me.

-Ana! I thought you weren't coming today.

—My date didn't last as long as I thought. I can do a couple of hours.

—I'm really happy to see you.

8
HTM: Do it yourself.

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He sends me to the warehouse to start rearranging shelves and I'm soon engrossed in the task.

When I get home later, Katherine is wearing headphones and working on her
laptop. Her nose is still pink, but she's got her teeth into a story, so she's
concentrating and writing frantically. I'm completely exhausted, exhausted from
the long trip, the grueling interview, and rushing to Clayton's. I collapse on the
couch, thinking about the essay I have to finish and all the studying I haven't
done today because I was late with... him.

—You've got some good stuff here, Ana. Well done. I can't believe you didn't take
him up on his offer to show you around. Obviously I wanted to spend more time
with you. —He gives me a fleeting mocking look.

I blush and my heart rate increases inexplicably. That wasn't the reason, was it?
He just wanted to show me around so I could see that he was the lord of
everything I saw. I realize I'm biting my lip[,] and I hope Kate doesn't notice. But
she seems engrossed in her transcription.

—I heard what you mean by formal. Did you take notes? -ask.

"Um... no, I didn't."

-That's ok. I can still make a good article out of this. It's a shame we don't have
some original photographs. Handsome son of a bitch, isn't he?

I blush.

-I guess so. —I try to sound disinterested and I think I succeed.

—Oh, come on Ana, not even you can be immune to his appearance. —He arches
a perfect eyebrow in my direction.

Shit! I distract her with compliments, it's always a good tactic.

"You probably would have gotten a lot more out of him."

—I doubt that, Ana. Come on, he practically offered you a job. Considering I
foisted this on you at the last minute, you did very well. —He looks up at me
speculatively. I make a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

—And what did you really think of him? —Damn, she's curious. Why can not you
just let this go? Think of something, quick.

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—He is very motivated, controlling, arrogant… really scary, but very charismatic. “I can understand
the fascination,” I add sincerely, as I look at her from the door, hoping this will shut her up once
and for all.

—You, fascinated by a man? “This is the first time,” he snorts.

I start gathering the ingredients for a sandwich so he can't see my face.

—Why did you want to know if he was gay? By the way, that was the most embarrassing question.
She was mortified and he was also angry that she did it to him. —
I frowned at the memory.

—Whenever he is in the society pages he never has a date.

—It was embarrassing. The whole thing was embarrassing. I'm glad I'll never have to set eyes on
him.

—Oh, Ana, it can't have been that bad. I think it sounds a bit like if you gustases.

He likes me? Now Kate is being ridiculous.

-Do you want a sandwich?

-Please.

We didn't talk more about Christian Gray that night, much to my relief. Once we've had dinner, I'm
able to sit at the dining room table with Kate and, while she works on her article, I work on my essay
about Tess of the D'Urbervilles. Damn, but that woman was in the wrong place, time, and century.
By the time I finish[ it's midnight and Kate has long gone to bed. I head to my room, exhausted but
happy that I've accomplished so much for one Monday.

I sink into my white iron bed, wrapping myself in my mother's blanket, close my eyes and am
instantly asleep. That night I dream of dark places, inhospitable white, cold floors and gray eyes.

The rest of the week, I immerse myself in my studies and my work at Clayton's. Kate is also busy,
putting together the latest issue of her student magazine before she has to hand it over to the new
editor while she also has to prepare for her finals. By Wednesday she is much better and I no longer
have to endure the sight of her flannel pajamas with too many rabbits on them. I call my mother in
Georgia to

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