Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 18

“Manolos,” I say. “Your size, hopefully.” Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“Christian, you—” she protests.

I hold up my hands. “I gave you my word. I hope they fit.”

She inclines her head and regards me with what looks like affection. It’s unnerving. “Thank you,” she

says. “And for the record, in spite of what happened, I would fly with you again, anytime.”

Wow. That is the greatest compliment.

After she’s left, I sit down at my desk and call Vanessa Conway in Procurement. I’ve been meaning to

do this for a couple of days.

“Mr. Grey,” she answers.

“Hi, Vanessa, this is a tall order, but here goes: after my helicopter went down Ros and I were rescued

by a guy named Seb, who drove a semi. He’s a one-man operation. I don’t know if we could use him—

he drives a huge rig.”

“You want me to contact him?”

“I do. But you’ll need to find him first. I don’t have his details.”

“Hmm. I’ll see what I can do.”

“He travels mostly between Portland and Seattle. I think.”

“Okay. Leave it with me.”

“Thanks, Vanessa.” I hang up and wish once more that Seb had given me a card. At least he has mine,

if he hasn’t thrown it away. I’d like to repay him somehow.

I turn to my computer to check my e-mails. There’s one from Ana.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Missing you

Date: June 23 2011 11:03

To: Christian Grey

That is all.

Axx

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Missing you more

Date: June 23 2011 11:33

To: Anastasia Steele

I wish you’d change your mind and move the rest of your things to Escala this weekend.

You’re with me every night as it is and what’s the point in paying rent for a place that you never stay in?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I’ve been subtly trying to persuade Ana to move in full-time. But as of yet, she refuses. Why is she

hesitating over this? Since she arrived in Seattle, she’s hardly lived in her own apartment. She’s agreed

to marry me…but not to this? I don’t get it. It’s irritating.

Move in with me, Ana.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Stay With Me

Date: June 23 2011 11:39

To: Christian Grey

Nice try, Grey.

I have some wonderful memories of you in my apartment.

I told you. I want more.

I always want more.

Stay with me there.

Axx

Oh, Ana, Ana, Ana. You always want more. And I would, if we were safe.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your Safety

Date: June 23 2011 11:42

To: Anastasia Steele

Means more to me right now than making memories.

I can keep you safe in my Ivory Tower.

Please reconsider.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

PS: I hope you like the wedding planner.

My mother is meeting us tonight at Escala with The Wedding Planner. This is not how I would like to

spend the evening. Why couldn’t we just go to Vegas and get married? We’d be husband and wife by

now. I might feel happier about it if Ana would stop procrastinating about moving in.

Why is she reluctant?

Does she need her apartment as a bolt hole, just in case she changes her mind?

Fuck.

Doubt is an ugly word, for an ugly feeling.

Why won’t she fully commit?

Enough, Grey.

She’s agreed to marry you!

To distract myself from these unsettling thoughts, I pick up the phone to call Welch for an update on the

investigation into the crash, to ask if he’s located Jack Hyde, and to inquire about panic rooms.

Taylor will not let me walk to or from the mayor’s office, so after a long lunch with the mayor, I

reluctantly climb into the back of the Audi for the short drive back to Grey House. I’m not sure I

appreciate him flapping around me like a mother hen. It’s suffocating. I let out a long, slow breath,

remembering Ana accusing me of doing precisely that.

Hell. I hope she’s tolerating Sawyer’s watchful eye.

On the plus side, Taylor has advised me to stop playing golf. Apparently there are too many trees

surrounding the golf course where an assassin could find cover. I’m not a fan of the sport, so it’s no

hardship to give it up, though I believe Taylor is being a tad dramatic.

Glancing up through the panoramic sunroof, I catch a glimpse of brilliant summer blue above the steel

and glass of downtown Seattle. For a moment I wish I was up there.

The freedom of walking on air.

I need to get back up there with Ana. We’d be safe in a sailplane, soaring the skies. And no longer

under the ever-present vigilance of our security. The idea is extremely appealing. Only thing is, if I want

to take Ana, I need a new sailplane, a model made for two. I rub my hands with glee, as this presents

my kind of shopping opportunity. I fish my phone out of my pocket and start scouring the Alexander

Schleicher website for their latest aircraft designs.

“Thank you so much, Christian, Ana. It has been wonderful to meet you, and you’re going to have the

most magical wedding.”

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