BOOK II - CHAPTER XXI - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,
Or, like a nymph, with long disheveled hair,
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:
Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.
(Venus and Adonis by Shakespeare)

CHAPTER XXI

When we claim the car from the valet, I let Anastasia sit in the passenger seat, and I get in the driver’s seat. Her declaration of never having had sex in the car occupies my mind. It could be a good experience. As I turn the ignition on, I turn to her and say:

“So, you wish to have sex in the car.”

“Car, hotel lobby, I don’t know. I think I would have been happy if you’d taken me at the lobby.”

“Trust me baby, so would I; but somehow I don’t think I want us to be arrested for indecent exposure at this time of the night, and I didn’t want to fuck you in a restroom either. Well, perhaps someday, but not today,” I say making a mental note add to the places I still want to fuck her in.

“Christian, if there was a possibility, let’s go back!” Anastasia laments, hot, bothered, and frustrated.

“Yes, there was,” I say as I start laughing. Anastasia starts laughing as well, and it feels good to laugh, it’s a release of this built up sexual tension. I reach over to Anastasia, and slowly place my hand on her knee, first holding it in place possessively, and then caressing it which immediately stops Anastasia from laughing and she’s back in fire again. The desire courses through her body, and through our connection. I’m lit on fire. As I say, “Patience, baby,” I’m not sure if I’m telling her to be patient, or me. 

The drive to home is long, and the minutes seem to stretch. By the time I get to Escala, I’m still contemplating whether to fuck her in the car, or at my apartment. I pull in one of my bays to park, and turn off the car. I turn to Anastasia as my arm on the steering wheel, my other finger running over my lower lip. Like a man in deep contemplation, I pull my lower lip with my thumb and the index finger finally making a decision. As much as I want to have her in the car, and the desire is immense, it will not satisfy me, not by a long shot. On the other hand, there are so many surfaces in my apartment we still haven’t christened. Anastasia’s gaze is expectant, wanton, and licentious. Her eyes are solely focused on my lips, and she’s ready to jump my bones. My eyes never leaving her, I say, “We are going to fuck in the car at a time and place of my choosing, possibly in the near future. But we don’t do it today, because it’s not going to be enough to satisfy me. I’m taking you upstairs, and I am going to fuck you on every available surface on my apartment,” I say, and she desperately answers, “Yes!”

I lean in to kiss Anastasia, and she closes her eyes expectant. But immediately the desire shots up, and courses through my body, ready to overtake me. If I touch her that way now, I’m going to combust, and I don’t want to fuck all over the parking lot here. I only gaze at her, inhaling her scent and that is enough to intoxicate me. When she opens her eyes back up again, she finds me staring at her, her eyes questioning, wanting to know why we’re not kissing. 

“Baby, if I were to kiss you now, we won’t go any further than your seat. Come, let’s go,” I say and with that, I get out of the car. And besides, she’s still being punished for not giving me an answer. Incidentally it is also punishing me, but I know how to get my due while still torturing her this way. 

I proffer my hand out to her, and she takes it. As we walk towards the elevators, my thumb runs across her knuckles, running back and forth rhythmically. If it’s done right, there are certain points in the body that has a direct connection with a person’s libido; you can torture them, arouse them, and even make them come by simply evoking those points on the body. Middle of the palm, the knuckles, between the fingers are some of those arousal points. Just the right pressure, and rhythm, you’re home free. Anastasia’s arousal is through the roof, and she’s squirming in her place hot and bothered. 

“I thought you were into instant gratification, Mr. Grey,” she says pointedly, mad that I haven’t made any attempt to fuck her yet. I gaze down at her smirking. 

“Instant gratification isn’t always appropriate for every given situation, baby,” I murmur.

“Bull! Since when has this changed?” 

“Since this evening,” I say cryptically. She narrows her eyes on me, like she’s onto something.

“You are torturing me, and you have a reason. Why?” she asks frustrated.

“Tit for tat, Anastasia,” I reply.

“Tit for that? What did I do to you? How am I the one torturing you?” she asks incredulous. 

“I think you know very well,” I reply with my gaze on fire, eyes dilated. I see a flash of lightening go through her gaze, and she knows. 

“Fine, Mr. Grey. I can be into delayed gratification, as well,” she murmurs, smiling. 

Her declaration instantly makes me lose control. I love her, damn it! I pull Anastasia’s hand with the rising anxiety and she’s in my arms, flush on my chest, and it’s not close enough for me! I wrap her hair around my hand, and yank her hair rather gently, but firmly so her head is tilted back up. Can’t she see what a nervous wreck I have been? Why does she torture me so? Does she care for me so little? I’m so fucking restless, nervous, especially in light of all that happened this entire week. I’m worried that I’ll lose her. I’m worried that my fucked up shit might come back to haunt me. I’m worried that she loves me less. 

“So on the tip of his subduing tongue,

All kinds of arguments and questions deep,

All replication prompt, and reason strong,

For his advantage still did wake and sleep.

To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,

He had the dialect and different skill,

Catching all passion in his craft of will.” 

Said Mr. Shakespeare in “Lover’s Complaint.” Though in the sonnet the complainer was a young woman whose lover first pursued, then seduced and finally abandoned her, leaving her in sorrow. My sorrow is that Anastasia will break my heart, and leave me. I know I’m unworthy of her love, but can’t a man reach for it, ask, desire, or even hope for it? A man’s reach should exceed his grasp, else, what’s a heaven for?

“I’m going crazy here Anastasia... Is there anything I can do to make you say yes?” I say without knowing whether I’m asking or begging. I’m desperate; I’m a man in love for God’s sake! I’m ready to put before her everything I have, my body, my soul. I want to tell her that what I have done is hers, what I have to do is hers; and all that I am, is devoted to her. What else do I have to do to prove her my love? I’m going to end up becoming a fucking poet! She’s all I think about! 

“Can you please give me some more time?” she asks after she gazes at me. Can I be relieved a little bit since this is not a ‘no’? No fucking way. She’ll keep torturing me. Fuck! It looks like I’ll be competing with Shakespeare in poetry as a lover scorned! There are other things I’m better at... I groan loudly, exasperated with my girlfriend who seems to enjoy taking me down and branding my fucking heart like an unskilled cowgirl on a hot summer day, taking her good ol’ time! With longing and desire, I dip my head down, grasp her head between both my hands, and kiss her long and hard, trying to consume her, trying to gauge her feelings for me. She reciprocates with equal fervent, and passion, and it feels like we are one body, I find myself pushing her to the elevator wall, and pin her with my body as one of my hands secure her head wrapping her hair around my hand, the other holding her chin, and her mouth to mine, kissing and making out.  I’m hers. I’m fucking hers! What I feel for Anastasia is such a love that it is ever consuming, I-can’t-live-without-her kind, make me or break me kind of love...It’s euphoric, obsessive, irreversible, and there’s no exit sign for me. I just realized that what a waste of life it would be never to fall in love. I’ve been alive since Anastasia’s been in my life. Not having her would make me half dead. 

(Living in a World Without You)

“You own me, Ana!” I whisper in her mouth devotedly with all my passion. “My life, my fate are in your hands, baby.” When my words register in her mind, she moans loudly, and yanks my jacket, and starts trying to rip my clothes off layer by layer. My hands are everywhere on her body, control is beyond me, I’m about to take her right here in the elevator, and I don’t care who gets in with us! Elevator comes to a stop at my penthouse, and the doors open as we both tumble out of the elevator half fucking into the foyer. I pin her back to the wall by the elevator doors, and yank my jacket off my back, and toss it. My lips are on her sucking her bottom lip, nipping. My tongue invades her mouth, and starts its tango in her mouth. Her tongue reciprocates with her assaults.

(Can't Take my Eyes Off You)

My hand moves up her leg pushing her dress up her leg as I continue my assaults on her lips. 

“The first place I’m going to fuck you is here,” I inform her lifting her off the floor. “I need you to wrap your legs around me baby.” I get the flower vase down from the large foyer table, and lay her down on it. Anastasia’s legs are wrapped around my torso, and I’m captured within the confines of her leg, my erection is towards her bare sex. I dip my hand into my pocket and take out a packet of condom, unzip my fly. My frigging cock is always half erect for her. One look, one touch, one word, and we have a lift off!

“Anastasia, do you have any idea how much you turn me on?”

Confused, she doesn’t know how to respond. 

“Huh... No... What?”

“Well, you turn me on all the time!” I roll the condom on my length, and her gaze turns one of wanting, loving, and carnal. As our gazes locked, souls connected, I place my hands under her thighs, and spread her legs even wider, ready to enter her. But being the man who wants her woman’s appreciation every possible way, I want to see her, feel her come apart under me.

“Ana, I want you to keep your eyes open. I want to see you in pleasure,” I whisper, and as I clasp her hand, I enter into her inch by inch. Anastasia finally getting what she wants, closes her eyes in ecstasy while groaning in pleasure and sensation of me claiming her from within makes her arch her back off the table. All of this turns me on big time, but I want her eyes open! I want to feel her every fucking way, know that she’s mine, and reaffirm that only I can do that do her!

“Open your eyes!” I  order, and impale her with my cock sharp and deep making her cry out, her eyes open finding me focused on her. Now that I have her attention, my eyes are wide, unblinking, I look at her, and pull back and slowly sink back into her blooming, inviting sex. The feeling of it is utterly overwhelming, I lose myself. Carnal, desirous, wild, and no matter how raw it is, I’m making love to her. My eyes bore into hers, and we feed on each other’s desire and the love and wantonness oozes from her every pore, and all I want to do is to drive her wild while I conquer her, and I do. I pick up my rhythm, going with an ever increasing pace, dig in deeper and harder and further, finding all her sweet spots, and ringing every bell in her sex, and finally I feel her muscles clenching in her squeezing my manhood, trying to milk me and we both reach our peak and come explosively. For a moment I lose the sight of everything, but her, and my nerves are alight as waves of orgasm from Anastasia’s body reaches mine and we’re one. I find myself shouting her name out “Fuck, Ana!”

I pour everything I got, and collapse on her chest between her comforting breasts releasing her hands. As her legs are still wrapped around my torso, she cradles my head, rubbing my hair as both of our breathing slowly relaxes. 

“We’re not finished yet, baby,” I say, and reach up her lips and kiss her while still connected. 

“No?” she asks teasing into my mouth. “Where to?”

“Somehow there is something about my woman in my kitchen. I’ll fuck you in the kitchen next,” I say salaciously. I walk into the kitchen with Anastasia in my arms and our lips locked, my fly undone. I take her dress off on the way to the kitchen and drop it on the floor. From one of the bottom drawers, I take a small lacy apron out and put it on Anastasia. She looks at me surprised. I smile, shrugging. She has nothing but an apron on in my kitchen. Perfect! She gazes up at me with her shy smile, and love and desire pours out. I lean down to capture her lips as I hold her hands on her back with one hand and with the other I hold the back of her head. She tugs her hands and I finally let them go. She reaches up, and snakes her hands around my neck and into my hair pulling me down fervently. I lift her up and put her on the counter and spread her legs and place myself between them. 

My hand dips under the apron to her breasts, teasing, kneading, and stretching. She groans in my mouth, pulls me in harder into her embrace, grazing my lower lip with her teeth, turning me on big time. As I hold the small of her back with one hand, my other hand travels down her breast bone to her navel, over her pubic bone, and the nob over her sex. She gasps as my fingers connect with her sex and her head arches back involuntarily making my lips slide down to her chin making me smile. 

“Arch your back baby,” I say, and as she arches her back, her breasts peak from the sides of the apron, and her sex is barely covered by the edges of the lacy frills on the apron’s skirt. Totally fuckable! I scoot Anastasia’s ass a little forward. My lips tease down her throat, licking, nipping, and sucking to her shoulder. I graze down to her breast and finally capturing it between my teeth gently sucking it. She moans loudly. My other hand mirrors the actions of my lips with the other breast. My head goes down to her side, and down to her thigh. I slight bite her thigh and she gasps making me grin. I push the apron skirt up, and graze my lip over her aroused nob. When I dip my tongue between the folds of her sex she moans loudly pushing her sex into my mouth. She’s sex mad and insatiable for me at all times!

I suck her nob into my mouth and tease it with my tongue swirling, as one of my hand goes up to her breast teasing it with equal fervor. 

Her back arches, her breast half peeking, half protruding from the apron, and her sex in my mouth. She’s supporting herself with one hand, as her other hand is knotted in my hair coaxing and pushing me, one of her leg wrapped around my shoulder. I swirl and dip relentlessly, finally she shouts out an incoherent version of my name; music to my ears, and comes apart under my lips. Her leg hangs limply as I pull her down, and tell whisper in her ear, “my turn.”

“This will be quick baby,” I say as I am turned on big time, my gun cocked, ready to shoot. I lift her off the counter and stand her up. I turn her around and lean her down, her hands holding onto the counter. I quickly roll a condom on my cock, and after dipping a finger in her sex finding it wet and arousing, I plunge into her. She groans, her legs trembling. I hold her hips with both hands, and first slowly and savoring I pull back, and then plunge back into her again. I repeat the process once more reveling the grasp of her muscles around my manhood, accepting and welcoming me. The feeling is too overwhelming, and her moans fuel my desire further. 

“Don’t come yet!” I warn her. I want us to come together. 

With an ever increasing rhythm, I thrust into her repeatedly, and she moans and finally yells, “Christian, I can’t hold it anymore!” and that is my undoing, “come for me, baby!” I say and we both come loudly, with her name a litany on my lips. 

*****

I carry Anastasia to our bed as I pick her dress up on the way. Her arms are wrapped around my neck. I deposit her on top of the bed, and untie the apron off her. I divest my pants and boxers off me, and fall on top of Anastasia, then lifting myself up, only inches away, my erection is up once more, and Anastasia’s is surprised.

“Again?” she asks incredulous.

“Oh yes, Miss Steele, again,” I say, and merge myself with her once more. 

*****

We lie in bed completely sated, arms and legs tangled around each other, Anastasia’s head on my chest, panting, trying to catch her breath, my fingers running up and down her back. I’m barely satisfied...for the time being. But, Anastasia looks spent, dazed, and on cloud nine. 

“Are you satiated, Anastasia?” I ask. She can barely murmur an incoherent admission. Knowing I can do that to my woman elates me, makes me happy. Because, what she does to me is so much more. She makes me feel! She gives a purpose to my existence; I don’t feel like I have to find a reckoning for existing anymore. She gazes up at me with lazy, unfocused eyes, finding me stare at her in awe, and admiration. Her lips crook up to form a smile. She lifts her head up from my chest, looking into my eyes, she directs her lips to my chest, but she won’t touch, just yet. Seeking my permission. I tense but nod my approval. I have to get used to it, break all my barriers with her. I want her permanently in my life. I want nothing between us. She plants a soft as air kiss on my chest hair, and inhaling me deep, getting lost in my scent that is my musk, sweat, sex and perfume. 

Finally I roll onto my side, making her lie next to me. I gaze down at her in awe, completely devoted to her, amazed what I can let her do to me. She’s nothing short of my everything. She grins at me lazily. 

“Sex is such an amazing thing. I’m surprised anyone ever goes out. Do you think it’s that special for everyone?” she asks contemplating. 

Well, I have no way knowing how everyone else feels about it, but what makes it special, what makes it other than just fucking, and turns it into lovemaking and bringing it to the peaks of pleasure for me is Anastasia. I grin at her inquisitiveness. 

“Well baby, I can’t speak for others. I can only tell you what I feel, and being with you, making love to you, is pretty damned special, Ana,” I declare and kiss her. 

“You know why that is Christian?” she says smiling. “It’s because you are pretty damned special.” Her fingers reach up to my face and caresses with the gentlest of touches, bringing emotions to the surface buried deep in my heart. I still feel undeserving of her compliment. She’s the one that makes this special. ‘The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable,’ said Victor Hugo, and I think in this particular moment proves it to be true. My heart is bursting with love for her, and the tenderness in her touch, just melting my soul. I love her. I’m at rest with her... I feel I’m home, because she’s here. 

 “It’s pretty late baby,” I say tenderly. “Go to sleep,” and with that I kiss her gently. I pull Anastasia towards me so we are spooning, and hold her tight.

“I wonder why you don’t like compliments,” she murmurs.

“Go to sleep now, Ana,” I chide her tenderly.

“Christian, I loved the existing house,” she murmurs drifting off. My hearts stops for a second and picks up speed. I have a renewed hope for a future together. I grin wide.

I nuzzle into her hair, inhale her scent of outdoors, her perfume, sex, and my scent on her; an intoxicating concoction. “I love you baby. Sleep now,” I whisper, and drift into a happy dream of Anastasia, a Mediterranean house by the Sound, and making love in the grass. (Love me Tender by Elvis Presley) 

******

“Good morning Seattle! Another unexpected beautiful day! First traffic...” says the announcer and I quickly hit the off switch on the radio alarm so Anastasia doesn’t wake up.

I hit the shower quickly, and dress up in my white shirt, and tailored dark navy suit with matching dark navy tie. I smile at myself thinking how Anastasia likes this particular suit. I find myself dressed to impress her. I sigh. I just love her so much! Lastly, I remember to take the small gift box Anastasia gave me before we met Flynn. I look at it again. Shake it, and it’s killing me not being able to find out what it is! What could fit in this size of a jewelry box, and sound like this? I shake it again. The satisfactory rattle that comes from the box only jangles my curiosity and drives me mad. I'm raking my brain, but I’ve no clue what it could be. “What do you contain little box? What secret do you hold within you?” I ask the inanimate object. It looks back at me silently, keeping its secret for the time being. I sigh and put it into my jacket’s pocket, close to my heart. 

I tie my shoes up, and go back to my bedroom. I watch Anastasia in her tired slumber, but I have to get going in order to make it to my breakfast meeting. 

I lean in and kiss Anastasia below her ear as I whisper, “I have to go, baby.” Anastasia panics thinking she’s late, because I’m up and showered and dressed. “What time is it? Am I late?” she says half up.

“No baby, you’re not. I just have a breakfast meeting,” I say pushing her down back to bed as I rub my nose against hers. 

Her arms wrap around my neck, and she inhales my scent. “You really smell so good, Christian,” she says trying to stretch under me. Her arms trying to pull me down, and she whispers, “Don’t go... Stay,” she whispers. What did I create here? An insatiable woman. 

“Miss Steele,” I say in a chiding tone. “Are you by any chance trying to keep your man away from an honest day’s work here?” She nods shamelessly, and I am tempted, but I have to go. I find myself smiling shyly at her.

“Baby, you and your body are very tempting, but I need to go,” I say kissing her. She groans disapprovingly.

“Laters, baby,” I say, and leave the bedroom. It’s exactly seven a.m. and Taylor is waiting for me in the living room, ready to take off. 

“Morning Mr. Grey,” Taylor greets me.

“Good morning Taylor,” I acknowledge him with that idiotic grin on my face. Yeah, yeah, Taylor knows what I’ve been up to with that faint glimmer in her eyes. He can’t fool me with that impassive face. I wrote the book on it. Like I give a fuck! I think he prefers me relaxed, and Anastasia relaxes me like nothing else, and she drives me mad like no one else either. I love her challenging me. 

“Breakfast at Edgewater, right sir?”

“Yes,” I confirm. 

“Great. I sent Sawyer ahead of time, for a security sweep,” he says, and I nod approving. “Andrea gave me the list yesterday; and we have a reserved section, sir,” he says as we exit the building. 

The Edgewater Hotel and its Six Seven Restaurant is just about three miles away from Escala. Taylor waits for the gate to lift up from Escala’s underground parking. He exits the building and heads north on the 4^th Avenue towards Holgate Street. I watch the morning rush absently my mind is still occupied with last night. I briefly notice Taylor taking Interstate 90/Interstate 5 ramp. My Blackberry buzzes.

“Grey,” I answer.

“It’s Ros. It’s all a go. I had it all completed with the old man last night.”

“That’s great. Are you there yet?”

“No, almost. Could you please do me a favor Mr. Grey?”

“What sort of favor?” I ask, and I feel her smiling.

“Mr. Grey, you don’t make promises until you know what you’re promising, do you?” she says laughing in a slightly raspy voice. She really needs to quit smoking. “Well, it’s actually simple. I’ve had a chip on my shoulder since the vulture Junior thought he could move in on me in such a way that he made me feel like we wouldn’t otherwise be able to buy the company as if the road to a deal went through his bed,” she says making me tense in my seat. 

“Did he say that to you?”

“Oh Mr. Grey, he doesn’t have to spell it out. When a man puts his hand on your shoulder and starts caressing you and whispering to your ear, ‘I’m sure we can work out a deal, honey’ it doesn’t exactly mean he’s offering a student discount!” she says exasperated.

“Do you want Taylor to have a talk with him?”

“No!” she says annoyed. “I am perfectly capable of handling it. I just want to take care of this deal during breakfast, and hand the fucker his balls on a breakfast tray! I worked it out with the old man, and he wants to give his no good son a lesson he will never forget. Let me do the talking, please. I know it’s not your way to hand the control over to someone else, and you will still be in control, but I need to do this so the fucker doesn’t mess with another unwilling woman! All I’m asking is if I could shove his balls to his face, that’s all! I’m sure you’ll jump in when you feel like it, but give me this please.”

“If it means that much to you, go for it Ros,” I say, and feel her sighing in relief at the other end of the phone.

“Thank you Mr. Grey.”

“See you there,” I say and hang up.

I actually perfectly understand what she’s talking about. Didn’t Anastasia’s boss try to do the same to her? The images of Anastasia collapsing in front of SIP come to my mind unbidden, and I try to shake the memory away. Happy thoughts... Happy thoughts... I had a great evening, and a spectacular night with her, I remind myself. We might even have a future together!

Anastasia said she likes the house. She likes the existing house, and the way she was listening to Miss Kelly was like me listening about a business I intend to purchase. She likes it... No, she loves it. I have to wait till Elliott comes back from vacation so I can ask his opinion and I have to make sure that we put in our bid today to purchase the house. So Anastasia must be leaning towards accepting my proposal, but it’s never easy to tell, because she’s so hard to read sometimes, and she doesn’t react the way I expect her to in a lot of cases. My hand goes into my inner pocket, and I take the small box out. A simple brown piece of paper, tied up with strings. This little box became my favorite object in the last couple of days. It held my curiosity like nothing else. I feel Taylor’s gaze on me briefly from the rear-view mirror. Then he looks ahead. I put the box back into the safety of my pocket. Taylor takes the exit towards the 1^st Avenue. Shortly after, he makes a left turn onto the Wall Street. He stays on the road for about mile, and then turns right into Alaskan Way. He calls Sawyer who is waiting for me to arrive outside where Taylor drops me off. 

“Good morning, sir.”

“Morning Sawyer. Is Ros here?” 

“Yes sir, she is, so is the head of the Finance, sir.”

“Walter?”

“Mr. Tightwater. I don’t know his first name sir,” he says.

“That’d be Walter,” I reply. As we make our way into the building, we are ushered into the Olympic Ballroom. Leave it to Andrea to reserve the largest room for breakfast. Today is the day we officially buy Mr. Carl Tait’s company. The papers are already signed, money is exchanged, and the deal’s gone through. It’s for the benefit of the Board and his useless son, Jett Tait. The documents state that his real name is Jetthro Tait. Guess with a name like that he can’t pick too many girls up, but Jett sounds like he’s some hip, worldly man. As I enter into the breakfast room, Jetthro is on Ros like white on rice, I notice. I don’t know how many ladies he can pick up if he can’t figure out that Ros bats for the home team. Dumb ass! I don’t think he can tell the difference between his ass and his elbow.

Tait senior looks at his son with distaste, and discreetly pulls his son to possibly warn him off. Junior looks shocked, turns to look at Ros who is a good looking, feminine, well dressed intelligent red head. He shakes his head in disbelief, and Ros finally notices me enter into the room, and I see her give a sigh of relief. 

“Good morning Mr. Grey,” she says brightly; though I don’t think it isn’t because she can’t handle men like junior. She can have his balls for breakfast! Ros is a shrewd business woman. People usually assume that she’s a pretty red head, well dressed, and currently in four inch Jimmy Choo Fuchsia suede platforms with Swarovski crystals coating the heels and soles, but those fuck me heels aren’t for this fucker’s benefit. Ros has a longtime girlfriends and she’s practically married! 

“Good morning Ros,” I reply with an impassive face. When I enter into a room, I am always in complete control. Everyone, including the vulture of a son of the old man Tait, Jetthro stand up. 

I shake hands with the old man only. 

“Mr. Tait,” I nod.

“Mr. Grey,” he replies.

With one look into his eyes, I see the tired, but finally relieved glimmer. Good, Ros has spoken to him already and he agrees to my terms, game’s on. This is just for show. I turn the rest of the group, and greet them all at once, “Gentlemen.” I sit down, and they follow suit. 

I see Taylor enter into the room, with the head of hotel security. Taylor shakes his head, and sends the other man out. The room is closed for outsiders except for the occasional waiters serving food. 

“Mr. Tait, have you looked at our proposal?”

“Yes, Mr. Grey,” he replies as he puts his coffee cup down.

“And your thoughts on it?”

“It is reasonable,” he replies.

“Wait a minute!” protest the son, and there is a collective distasteful look on the rest of the board members’ faces as if they all swallowed the same nasty bug. 

“What exactly are we waiting for Mr. Junior?” says Ros emphasizing the Junior. 

“Because 42% of the company interest doesn’t belong to my father! It belongs...” but Ros doesn’t let him finish.

“The remainder 42% is governed by the board, and none of which belongs to you Mr. Junior.”

“Tait,” he corrects her.

“Since Mr. Carl Tait owns the majority, meaning 58% of the company interest, we’re well within our rights to make our proposal to him, and he’s well within his rights to sell it to us.” 

“I own 10% of the 42,” says the son smugly. “You will have to speak to me as well. I can hold the sale up.”

Ros makes a show of shuffling some paper as if she’s trying to find an important document. Then she finds what she’s looking for. 

“Oh yes, here, Mr. Tate, we bought you out for cash,” says Ros smiling widely. 

“What? How?” he asks choking on his food. I sit back and watch Ros in action. There is a reason she’s my right hand man. Well, right hand woman who is manning the right hand man position. She can chew and spit out men like him for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It takes balls, and though she may lack the literal ones, she has them in spirit. 

“Here’s the thing, Mr. Tate Junior. The company has only been generating negative income for the last three years with no prospect of recovery in sight. In fact, if GEH didn’t buy you out, you would eventually run the company to ruin. Our estimates would be within three months, four if we are generous. Isn’t that right Mr. Tightwater?” she turns asks GEH’s CFO. 

“It’s quite right,” says Tightwater. “But, that is too generous of an estimate Ros. The creditors were about the jump in and dismantle the company because you are bleeding out money. This is the best offer you got,” he says. He is wearing a black suit, white shirt and a patterned tie. He is in his late fifties, with a balding spot on the back of his head. He looks like Eisenhower with Buddy Holly style glasses. Except probably Eisenhower smiled more and cracked a joke or two. Mr. Tightwater, though extremely efficient in his job, he tends not to use his facial muscles to smile possibly since he was five years old which makes him more intimidating for the likes of Tait Junior. 

“The company which your father gave you 10% of the interest to mind has eight major creditors which could take you down as easily as a shark eats a baby seal. You have no money, no assets, no way of fighting them off in the legal grounds. Because, you owe too much. You were put in charge of the company five years ago, and all of those five years are the decline years of your father’s company. Not even in the recession of 1990,” says Tightwater shuffling some papers and looking at the company L&P Statements, he adds, “this company generated a negative income and laid a single person off. Yet, you come to lead the company at its peak, in a prosperous year, and managed to ruin it. So, we’re being extremely generous in our offer Mr. Tait,” says Tightwater. Junior looks like he’s constipated, rigid in his chair. 

 Ros smiles at Tightwater, thanking him, and turns to the son, and the board, and says, “as of this morning, GEH owns the controlling stock, and gained power over your father’s company and we’ve installed a new board of directors, and we are NOT incorporating Tait Enterprises into the GEH.”

Junior looks incredulous, as does the board, they’re all rendered speechless.

“How could you let them take over our company? It must be illegal. In fact, I’ll have my lawyer check it up. I think it is illegal,” he yells at his father.

“Illegal?” says Ros. “Mr. Tait Jr. GEH never does any business outside of the law. We gained all our access because we paid off all the creditors who by the way have legal right to seek legal remedy to collect millions of dollars of unpaid debt which was in the process until we stopped it this morning. You see, we only saved you from a public disgrace by having everything taken away, down to your $2,000 Stefano Bemer shoes,” she says looking down at his feet, “and your $4,200 off the rack Canali suit,” she says eying his dark business suit. 

“Not to mention your $1,400 Cartier shades, and your $6,750 Bretling Windrider watch. In short, we own your ass, honey,” she says not smiling at all now. “You and this board have been ruining the company it took your father forty years to build. You all acted like the vultures on an all you can eat Sunday brunch! Well, gentlemen, the dinner’s over,” she states firmly looking into each face of the board. 

“This is not a hostile takeover,” says Tait Senior. “This is a sale. I sold my company. Not yours,” he says turning the board members, who now look like they’ve lost all their appetite, and turns to his son and says, “definitely not yours!  It is mine! A company I might add, I established with my own sweat and blood and these two hands. None of you helped. And now, I wish to sell something that belonged to me. Everyone will get their share, and that is more than you deserve. Mr. Grey, thank you for saving me and my wife from the disgrace these jackals were out to hand me,” says the old man with the last shred of dignity.  

“You are cheating him Grey!” barks the son. 

“I disagree. I made your father an offer, and he accepted. This is business.”

With that, I bought a company, and I feel a little better aiding the old man, but I enjoyed Ros kicking the hyenas out of the equation. At the end of the day, I got a good deal, and the old man ended up getting some money for his retirement. Win-Win. And the Junior was able to walk out with his $15,000 net worth he was wearing which included his underwear, but I didn’t ask Ros to price all of that.

We get back to GEH, and Andrea is ready to go over my schedule. 

“In a minute Andrea. I’ll call you in,” I say. 

I miss Anastasia. I can’t get her out of my mind with all the sexing last night. How she felt under my hands, under my lips, my tongue, my cock. I’m already turning on again. Fuck! I quickly write her an e-mail.
_____________________________________________________

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Surfaces

Date: June 17, 2011, 08:58

To: Anastasia Steele

I’ve been thinking about you all morning. There are about 30 surfaces in my house we have to christen. I’m completely looking forward to each and every one of them. There are also the floors, the walls, oh, and the balcony, bathrooms, closets... Surfaces, surfaces. And after that, there’s my office to christen...

I miss you baby. X

Christian Grey

Priapic CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Romancing?

Date: June 17, 2011, 09:02

To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey,

You seem to have a one track mind.

I missed you at breakfast this morning.

However, Mrs. Jones was completely accommodating.

A x

_____________________________________________________

What? How? What is she up to? Anastasia, you drive me wild! I’ve been gone, what two hours, and she’s already stirring the pot. What is she doing? How did Mrs. Jones accommodate her?

_____________________________________________________

From: Christian Grey

Subject: I’m intrigued

Date: June 17, 2011, 09:06

To: Anastasia Steele

How or rather what was Mrs. Jones accommodating you about?

What are you up to Anastasia?

Christian Grey

Curious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Tapping my nose

Date: June 17, 2011, 09:09

To: Christian Grey

Curious, are we? Wait and see; it’s just a surprise.

But right now, I need to work, so let me be.

I love you.

A x

_____________________________________________________

Exasperating woman! Drives me wild as always. What is she up to? When I don’t know what she’s doing I get anxious, and nervous and upset. I worry.

_____________________________________________________

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Frustrated

Date: June 17, 2011, 09:13

To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia, I really hate it when you keep things from me.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Just indulging you

Date: June 17, 2011, 09:15

To: Christian Grey

It’s only for your birthday.

Just another surprise.

Don’t be so grouchy.

A x

_____________________________________________________

I don’t get a chance to reply Anastasia. Andrea buzzes. 

“Yes Andrea.”

“Mr. Grey, there’s apparently a major funding issue at WSU. It’s the head of the Farming Division at the university. It’s Dr. Harold Davis,” she says.

“Put him through.”

Ten seconds later I hear the dinging of the line connecting.

“Mr. Grey, thank you so much for taking my call at such a short notice.”

“What seems to be the problem Dr. Davis?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you with this Mr. Grey. I know you’re a busy man...” says Dr. Davis.

“Davis, get to the point. What’s the problem?”

“Mr. Grey, last time you were here, we asked you to sign some documents for allocating the funds you granted us, and now the funds are frozen in the bank, and we’re unable to withdraw it, and the Chancellor threatens to shut the program, saying maybe you intended the funds for something else!” he says.

“What?”

“Yes, sir. The Chancellor thinks that you might have changed your mind, and perhaps want to allocate the funds for another division, worthier than the farming division,” he says sighing.

“Ok. Let me clear my schedule for this morning. I’ll straighten out your Chancellor. The money I have donated is for the farming division, and farming division alone. I like the work you do, and I like you to do more of it. I’ll fly out, within the next thirty minutes, and we’ll resolve the issue today.”

“Thank you Mr. Grey! Shall I inform the Chancellor of your visit, sir?”

“No. Let him be surprised,” I say, hanging up. I’m going to catch him off guard. 

“Taylor!” I say.

“Already on it sir! Stephen is clearing with the tower, and he’s prepping Charlie Tango.” I smile. I like efficiency, and Taylor is nothing if he’s not efficient. 

“Andrea!”

“Yes, sir,” she answers the intercom.

“Clear my schedule until this afternoon. I’m flying to Vancouver to resolve the funding issue with the WSU.”

“Alright, sir.”

“And, dial Ros for me.”

“I’m on it, sir.”

Thirty seconds later my intercom buzzes. 

“Ros is on line 2, sir,” says Andrea and I pick the lineup.

“Yes, Mr. Grey?”

“What’s your schedule like this morning?”

“Nothing I can’t miss. What’s up?”

“I’m flying to Vancouver to resolve a funding issue with WSU. Apparently the Chancellor doesn’t think that I was allocating the funds for the Farming Division. I’m going to appoint you as an executive of the funds I’ve elected to donate to the university. I can’t just go back and forth when they have an issue. But might you might be able to manage it.”

“How thoughtful of you Mr. Grey,” she says sarcastically. “But as it happens, I could do that.  In fact I love straightening things up.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed it this morning. Good job by the way.”

“Well thank you Mr. Grey,” she says genuinely. “In that case, it’s an honor to crush any balls you deem crushable whether they’re at WSU or elsewhere,” she says in her slightly raspy voice. 

“Great. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Is Taylor driving us?”

“He is only driving us to Boeing. Then I’m flying Charlie Tango.”

“Oh! I’ve never been on it. In fact, I’ve never been on a helicopter. Alright, see you in five!” she says excitedly and I hang up. 

Taylor quickly drives us to Boeing, and tells me that a car will be waiting for us in Vancouver after landing. 

“What time shall I pick you up sir?”

“I’m not exactly sure how long this will take, but I’m assuming we should be back early afternoon, Taylor. I’ll call or text you when we land in Vancouver and prior to our departure; that way you have a clear idea when you should expect us back.”

“Alright, sir. I’ll expect your calls or your texts,” he says uneasily. Taylor doesn’t like sending me off to unexpected places when he can’t do a security sweep himself.

Stephen greets us and shakes my hand.

“All pre-flight checks are complete, sir,” he says. 

“Thank you Stephen,” I reply. But I never leave my pre-flight checks to someone else. I repeat the process, and as Ros is bucking herself in, she smirks noticing I’m double checking Stephen’s work.

“KBFI, this is Charlie Tango. Flight plan to VUO. Requesting for take-off.”

“Helicopter Charlie Tango, cleared to VUO airport, via Seattle one departure, flight planned route, depart runway 15, fly runway heading, maintain 4000 feet for vectors, squawk 4042,” the tower says.

“Understood KBFI, standing by, over and out.”

It’s a clear day, winds are calm, but apparently there is a Northwest gusting wind towards Vancouver which I need to be cautious of. 

The flight is going smoothly, and I hear Ros’ disembodied slightly raspy voice in the cans. It sounds eerie.

“Mr. Grey! This is incredible!  I’ve never seen the scenery like this. I flew over here in an airplane, but because they fly so high, you don’t see the details like you would in a helicopter. I absolutely love the view!” she gushes. She looks at Mount St. Helens in the distance. 

“I flew over the region many times. It’s amazing what you can see at different times of the day. Light, the seasons, even the time of the day changes what you see and how the scenery looks. It really is amazing,” I acquiesce with her. 

She looks in the direction of Saint Helens.

“Mr. Grey! St. Helens looks incredible. Do you think we could see a little of it?” she asks enthusiastically. “That’d give me something to talk about tonight with Gwen,” she says grinning. 

“It may be doable. I have heard that the TFR was lifted. If we get done early enough I can show you. It all depends on our schedule,” I say.

“Well, in that case Mr. Grey, please allow me to straighten the Chancellor on your behalf. I really would love to see the St. Helens!” 

Then I ask her something I’ve been curious all morning.

“Ros, how did you know what Tait Junior was wearing and how much they cost?”

“Please Mr. Grey!” she says. “I always do my homework. This is still a man’s world, and in order for me to compete with them, I have to know them as if I’m one of them, and I shop at Neiman Marcus. I know what they sell, and for how much. I’ve got a photographic memory when it comes to the images and prices. I don’t forget. Besides, they were all last season’s ensemble!” she says making me laugh. 

“Oh, I’ll let you in on a secret. My girlfriend and I are very into the Project Runway. You can learn so much about fashion. And isn’t Tim Gunn great?”

“I don’t know who he is.”

“Really? He’s only the best dressed fashion consultant, and he’s you know... like us.”

“Like us how? Is he in shipping, manufacturing, trading?” I ask trying to remember if I have heard his name in any of my business dealings before.

“No, Mr. Grey. I mean he’s gay!” she says exasperated.

I laugh very hard to hear that.

“Ros, I’m not gay. I have a girlfriend whom I love,” I say unexpectedly tenderly. 

“What? Since when? I always thought you were...” she trails off. 

“Well, I’m not. I just haven’t found her then,” I say firmly. 

“I’ll be damned! My gaydar must be broken. I’m usually never wrong. Because, I guess I haven’t seen you eying a woman before.”

“Well, have you seen me eying a man?” I ask.

“Come to think of it...” she says racking her brain, “no, actually, I haven’t. Huh, I’ll be damned!” 

“It’s because I’m not interested in fucking a man,” I say flatly.

“Neither am I,” she says laughing.

“Anyway, I’m surprised you haven’t heard I have a girlfriend.”

“No one tells me anything. Taylor has the steel mouth, you couldn’t pry it open with the Jaws of Life, what goes in remains in, and of course when it comes to Frosty, well, I’d rather not ask her. She’s colder than the arctic air. No wonder she can be your assistant. When will I get to meet your girlfriend Mr. Grey?”

“Maybe on my birthday this Saturday,” I say laughing. “Am I the only one who isn’t aware of Andrea’s nickname? You have been working for me longer than Andrea has, in fact longer than Taylor has. Clearly Andrea isn’t the only woman who can work for me.”

“Yes, but I’ve known you for a while. You can be a viscous tight ass, but you’re fair. I can deal with that. Anyway, I can’t wait to meet the woman who managed to capture your deeply buried heart, so deep that even a rescue team wouldn’t be able to find it!” I say nothing, because it’s a fair assessment. Ros is nothing if she’s not blunt. In fact, she’s as fired up as her red hair, a different contrast to her partner Gwen. But, she’s completely loyal and just as viscous when it comes to business. 

She notices my silence.

“Boss, you know I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that it takes a very special person to discover who you are. And she really must be special to capture your notice. I mean look at all the women drooling around you everywhere we go. It gets disgusting. Even though I bat for the home team, I can appreciate that you’re good looking guy. It wouldn’t affect me, and I don’t want to take you home anytime soon, but, I can see what other women see in you. But since you’ve never given a second look to any of them, I just assumed... Well anyway, you were looking for the right one.” 

“You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know before. It’s fair point well made so no arguments here. But, I wasn’t looking for someone, Ros. As it turns out, those things just happen. Fate, destiny, chance... Who knows? Maybe all of the above.”

“What’s her name, sir?”

“Anastasia,” I say reverently, and it doesn’t escape Ros’ notice.

“Looking forward to meeting her.”

*****

After getting close to the Vancouver Airport, I call the air traffic controller request permission to land.

“Charlie Tango, this is VUO tower, runway 33, altimeter 29.85 cleared left downwind runway 33, then, Charlie Tango remain west of runway 33 at all times, wind 010 at 8 land apron 2 at your discretion.”

I repeat the landing instructions back to the tower, and we’re cleared for landing. 

The driver is waiting for us outside in a town car. He drives us to the WSU, and I call Dr. Harold Davis, and inform him of our arrival. Twenty minutes later, we are at the university, and meeting the good Dr. Davis who is heading the Farming Division.

I like to make unannounced visits to keep employees, and management on their toes and this will be a good visit to keep the Chancellor on his toes. I tell the driver to take us to the back of the Farming Division. I don’t like the heavy traffic of the students. I like it quieter. Dr. Harold Davis is waiting for us anxiously.

“Oh Mr. Grey! I’m so sorry for having you to take this trip. Believe me it was the last thing in my mind to inconvenience you.” I nod in response.

“Thank you Dr. Davis,” I say and introduce Ros to him, and tell him that she will be an executive should there be a problem in the future. 

“I’m very pleased to meet you ma’am,” he says respectfully to Ros, and that takes her aback. She’s pleased.

“Please allow me to introduce you to Dr. Aaron Hanlon,” he says pointing a young man in a lab coat who warmly extends his hands.

“I apologize for my appearance. I was in the lab,” he says removing his goggles, and wearing it like a necklace. 

“I’m a biochemistry and molecular biology professor here at the university,” he says. He’s a little less than six feet tall, medium built, with brown eyes, and brown hair. 

“Molecular biology in the farming division?” I ask questioning.

“Yes,” he says smiling. “My specialty lies on plant micronutrient biosynthesis. You see, I’ve discovered that vitamins, particularly B vitamin pathways are involved in everything,” he says leading us into a lab.

“I know the vitamin involvement in plant development. But I am not aware how vitamin B relates to it specifically,” I say.

“Allow me to explain then, sir. Did you know that you cannot make biofuels or polymer constituents without the involvement of the cofactors that comes from B vitamins?”

“How do they help?”

“I’ve been doing a research to understand the pathways leading to vitamin B synthesis in plants. What we are discovering here will give sort of a map for balancing vitamin B content of major crops which is crucial for developing countries where people depend on a single crop for the majority of their calories.”

“Let’s assume that you’ve discovered the map for balancing B vitamin. I don’t see how that one single vitamin can balance a diet for people who depend on consuming that particular crop. How do you make it possible?” 

“Basically sir, I’m trying to create a plan reducing vitamin deficiencies in humans. It is a known fact that Vitamin B deficiencies are common all over the world, including in our country, right here in America. The lack of B vitamins in a person’s diet can cause serious health problems.”

“What sort of health problems?”

“Anything from birth defects, to cardiovascular diseases or something as simple as fatigue, depression, irritability, low blood pressure, loss of appetite, or more seriously swelling of the limbs, weak heart, painful legs, or even paralysis of the nerves. Because sir, people in many regions of the world, use one major crop as a dietary supplement. If the plant doesn’t have the particular vitamins then you get your health problems. But B vitamins in particular contain folate, fiboflaving, niacin, and thaiamin which are whole unprocessed foods such as green leafy vegetables, whole grains and legumes. Unfortunately sir, some scientists have also developed genetically altered plants to resist some pesticides or kill insects that eat them.”

“How is that unfortunate if it prevents the plants from dying and consequently those plants become nourishment for a starving group of people?”

“The problem sir lies in the genetics. The plant genes are being modified. Simplest examples for this would be corn and soy. There are researches that have been done in France that has shown that although some of these varieties are safe to eat, some suggest potential kidney and liver problems from the consumption of all three modified corn varieties as well as negative effects on heart, adrenal glands and spleen.” 

“But, I’m assuming FDA approved those crops and therefore it must be safe.”

“Yes, they are approved sir. Because as in the case of genetically modified corn, the industry persuaded the FDA to rule that their crops are ‘substantially equivalent’ to traditionally bred crops. But, with anything new, it takes times to discover its effects on human body, and we’re seeing more and more food allergies in young children and adults alike, because our bodies do not recognize the altered genes in those food items. What good a food item if our bodies can’t consume it?”

“But you’re a molecular biologist. Aren’t you going to make some alterations to the genes?”

“What I’m doing is in a way our bodies understand. Our bodies know and use Vitamins. B vitamins are important. People take supplements. Imagine having that in your food without needing the supplement. We are only helping the plant to help the human body.”

“Okay. But I know that the current FDA regulations don’t require tests longer than 90 days which I find inadequate. Even in Europe those standards are higher. I want what is being developed here by this division to be for the long term. I want our standards and tests longer and through.”

“That’s exactly what we are doing sir!” he says passionately.

“Great! Then, let’s fix this financing problem. Where the hell is your Chancellor?”

He gets a grin on his face. “It’d be my pleasure to take you to his office, sir” he says. 

“Well, please do. I need to get back to Seattle.”

Dr. Hanlon and Dr. Davis lead the way to the Chancellor’s office. His secretary has her mouth on the floor briefly but collects herself. She had to disturb the Chancellor when he was meeting another person who initially told the young secretary rather rudely that he doesn’t accept drop in visitors, and we must make appointments over the intercom without knowing who was waiting for him in his waiting room. Chancellor’s response makes Dr. Davis turn green, getting him sick, and Dr. Hanlon look amused with his goggles hanging down on his neck like a necklace and Ros is looking at me like she’s got the front seats on the final NBA game of the season and her team is about to score the final winning three pointer shot. I don’t wait for the secretary to respond to her boss.

I walk into the Chancellor’s office without even knocking where he seems to be in middle of ‘his meeting’ with another old geezer like himself talking about weekend golf. 

“Chancellor! I don’t have time to make appointments. You see, people who want to see me book at least a year in advance. So, I am in fact doing you a favor by dropping in.”

His mouth drops open, he slowly rises in his seat with a shocked look on his face.

“Mr. Grey! What a pleasant surprise,” he manages to mutter extending his hand to shake mine which I conveniently ignore. 

“I’m sure it is,” I say flatly. He slowly retracts his hand back, and absently wipes the sweat from it onto his pants. I fix my gaze at him, and stare him down unblinking. 

“Why aren’t the funds we provided for the farming division not allocated to its intended purpose?”

“Well... you see there was some missing paperwork, and we didn’t know if that’s exactly what you wanted to allocate it for. We thought maybe perhaps...” I cut him off.

“You thought wrong,” I say in a slow, measured, menacing tone. 

“Chancellor, I don’t make house calls, and your little stint altered my daily plans. You see now my assistant will have to scramble to rearrange it and some of those people whose appointments have been cancelled will have to wait another year to do business with me, so, you’ve altered a lot of people’s plans.”

“I apologize Mr. Grey,” he says wringing his hands not knowing what to say.

“Don’t make mistakes, so you don’t have to apologize. Do it right the first time. I have my right hand person here with me. She will deal with any further finance problems that may require my presence which I sincerely hope that won’t be necessary. I am only allocating funds for the farming division, and Farming Division alone and I like the work Doctors Davis and Hanlon are doing with their team so far. For the next ten years GEH is going to fund $2.5 million annually for the work they are doing here with the farming division in WSU, but their work is going to be evaluated, and I want regular reports  to be sent to GEH. First evaluation comes in eight months’ time. I have independent evaluators. I like to keep people on their toes.” I say looking at him menacingly. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

“You wish to give the farming division twenty five million Dollars over the course of the next ten years?” he says finally doing his math in his head.

“Pending upon their reviews. I don’t waste money, and I don’t invest in things that don’t produce returns. I expect results, and the two professors so far seem to be on the right track. Just like they evaluate the works of their students, their works will also be evaluated. 

“Now, show me the paperwork you said we have missed, so we don’t spend the money on something I don’t wish to pay for,” I say narrowing my eyes.

“Absolutely, Mr. Grey,” he says shuffling around, and noticing his friend staring at both of us, shocked wide eyed, “Harry, I will see you this weekend,” he says dismissing his golf buddy. 

“I think you might want to get the Doctors in here with my colleague,” I say and he, in a much politer and reprimanded voice asks his secretary to send them in. 

“Doctors, GEH is allocating $2.5 million annually for the next ten years for the Farming Division in WSU. I need you to create a larger student body in your division so that the work can be properly done. I like what you are doing Aaron, but I also want this division to focus on crop rotations, and sustaining the soil as well as hydroponically plant growth. I know that this method is not new. Ancient Greeks tried and used it. University of California tried it, NASA has done extensive research on it, and University of Arizona is doing it. Learn from each other’s work. No need to reinvent the wheel. Perfect the existing tools available.”

“Mr. Grey,” says Davis clearing his throat. 

“I thought you were only allocating us two point five million Dollars for one time. Did you say ten years sir?”

“I did Dr. Davis, and this time we’re going to make sure that your division gets its due. However, it is going to be pending reviews of the work you do each year. I want reports on all crop rotations, on all research result, and I want viable, sustainable, and non-toxic plants good for human consumption,” I say looking pointedly at Dr. Hanlon. He nods solemnly. 

“My colleague will be appointed as an executive of this fund, and should there be a problem, she will be able to resolve it, though I sincerely hope we don’t get any such problems again.”

“Absolutely not sir!” says the Chancellor, and brings the paperwork we supposedly have missed the last time.

*****

By the time we leave WSU it’s passed twelve o’clock. I tell the driver to head to the airport. I text Taylor and tell him we’re on our way to the airport. 

“Well, Mr. Grey, since you’ve managed to resolve the problem rather smoothly, could you at least fly by the St. Helens so I have something to tell Gwen about my trip here?”

“I think we have time. Sure, why not? I’m happy with the addition of Dr. Hanlon to the team which was a good move by Davis, and I actually have heard of his work, and some other universities are doing similar work, but he is the top authority in the field.”

“But you didn’t tell him that...” says Ros curiously.

“I like to hear people’s own expressions so I can assess them better. Do they have passion for what they do? Are they problem solvers or creators? Are they capable of doing the work they’re hired to do? Can they stand up to the Chancellor and others like him? I couldn’t have found these out if I had just said, ‘I know your work. Good job!’ They have to deserve it. Now, we can celebrate this by flying over. I know that the TFR is lifted.”

“What’s TFR?”

“Temporary Flight Restriction,” I say shaking my head.

“I’m not a pilot Mr. Grey. I’m merely your right hand man. I believe the woman position is being filled by your girlfriend Anastasia,” she says sarcastically, making me laugh. 

I text quickly to Taylor giving our departure time. He confirms the time by texting me back and that the time he will be picking us up. The driver pulls up at Vancouver Pearson Airport, and we make our way to Charlie Tango. 

Once we arrive to Charlie Tango, I do my pre-flight checks, and let Ros sit and buckle up, then the tower finally clears us off for take-off, and we head towards St. Helens.

Ros’ disembodied raspy voice comes up to my ears in the headphones again. 

“Mr. Grey, I hope I’m not getting us out of our flight path too far.”

“No, it’s just a little detour. It’s northeast of here. About twenty minutes of flight.”

“Thank you!” she says clearly very excited.

“I didn’t know you like the outdoors!”

“Oh, I love the outdoors! That’s one reason I live in Washington State; because there is so much nature, so much you can do here. We like hiking, and biking, and exploring new trails.” 

“You’re in luck, because there are a lot of summer wildflowers just dotting the hillsides, like foxglove, penstemon and Indian paintbrush.”

“How do you know that?”

“My brother and I like to go hiking a lot.”

“I can’t wait to see them!” she says.

“I don’t know if you can actually see them. I’ll try to fly as low as allowed but I’m not sure if you can see individual flowers, but maybe just the color scheme.”

Mount St. Helens slowly shows its peak in the distance to the northeast of us. 

“Oh, Mr. Grey! What a spectacular view! I can see why you like flying now! You see so much more like this!” she awes. 

“There is a lake nearby which has nice view from the sky. It’s scenic from below as well. Good for fishing.” 

“I can’t wait to see.”

“Actually you can see it. Look to the west.”

“I can’t tell which way to the west here,” she says.

“To your right, three o’clock.”

“Ohhh! It’s beautiful Mr. Grey! Can we get a little bit closer?” she asks.

“Yes, let me circle around, I have a tail wind, and I don’t like tail winds.” I descend a little more to get out of the tail wind and circle around. We fly above the lake, edges of the lake are covered with green marshland, and water reflects its blue beautifully. 

“I’m going to descend to about two hundred feet Ros. You can see the islands in the lake so much better and around. If you look at St. Helen from this direction,” she looks around and not able to see it.

“Look to your southwest now.”

“I can’t tell my directions,” she says.

“How about now?” I say turning Charlie Tango, and St. Helens can be seen about fifteen miles in the distance straight ahead.

“Wow! Simply wow!” she says.

Then she turns her head to me and asks, “Do you smell that?” And as if on cue all of instrument panel lights up like a Christmas tree, alarm buzzing!

“Shit! We have fire in the tail!” I yell.

“Oh God!” says Ros turning her head to me worried as hell.

I try to stabilize the helicopter but it’s hard to do with a fire in the tail, and now one of my engines fail! Fuck! I’m too low and no decent ground to land! Another buzzing sound like the alarm bells going all over the fucking helicopter! My last engine failed! Oh no! We may not make it home! Anastasia! I won’t see my love ever again! Please God! Not that! I just found her! All of a sudden there is nothing I want to do but to go home to her, and I may not live but another three minutes...

“I love you Ana!” I whisper and smoke travels into the cabin.

*****

“I love thee, I love but thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.” (Bayard Taylor) (←I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing by Aerosmith)

LOVE SONG

FROM the Desert I come to thee

On a stallion shod with fire;

And the winds are left behind

In the speed of my desire.

Under your window I stand,

And the midnight hears my cry:

I love thee, I love but thee,

With a love that shall not die

Till the sun grows cold,

And the stars are old,

And the leaves of the Judgement Book unfold!

Look from thy window and see

My passion and my pain;

I lie on the sands below,

And I faint in thy disdain.

Let the night-wind touch thy brow

With the heat of my burning sigh,

And melt thee to hear the vow

Of a love that shall not die

Till the sun grows cold,

And the stars are old,

And the leaves of the Judgement Book unfold!

My steps are nightly driven,

By the fever in my breast,

To hear form thy lips

The words that shall give me rest.

Open the door of thy heart,

And open thy chamber door,

And my kisses shall teach thy lips

The love that shall fade no more

Till the sun grows cold,

And the stars are old,

And the leaves of the Judgement Book unfold!

(Bayard Taylor)

(This Chapter is dedicated to Natalee. Happy Birthday Natalee!!)
Next posting will be on Monday the 17th.