Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 143

What can I say?

I’m staring blankly out of the window when Mrs. Jones knocks on my office door.

“Would you like some lunch?”

“Yeah. Sure. Thank you, Gail.”

“Very good, Mr. Grey.” With a polite smile she leaves me with my thoughts. I’m still trying to think of something to respond to Ana, when I hear the ping of a new message arriving from my iMac.

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Here’s the Thing…

Date: August 26 2011 13:56

To: Christian Grey

I will take your silence as an admission that you did indeed return to Seattle because I CHANGED MY MIND. I am an adult female and went for a drink with my friend. I did not understand the security ramifications of CHANGING MY MIND because YOU NEVER TELL ME ANYTHING. I found out from Kate that security has, in fact, been stepped up for all the Greys, not just us. I think you generally overreact where my safety is concerned, and I understand why, but you’re like the boy crying wolf.

I never have a clue about what is a real concern or merely something that is perceived as a concern by you. I had two of the security detail with me. I thought both Kate and I would be safe. Fact is, we were safer in that bar than at the apartment. Had I been FULLY INFORMED of the situation, I would have taken a different course of action.

I understand your concerns are something to do with material that was on Jack’s computer here—or so Kate believes. Do you know how annoying it is to find out my best friend knows more about what’s going on with you than I do? And I am your WIFE. So are you going to tell me? Or will you continue to treat me like a child, guaranteeing that I continue to behave like one?

You are not the only one who is fucking pissed. Okay?

Ana

Anastasia Grey

Editor, SIP

Cursing and shouty capitals, too. Two can play at that game.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Here’s the Thing…

Date: August 26 2011 13:59

To: Anastasia Grey

Grey, you are forthright and challenging in e-mail.

Perhaps we can discuss this when you get home to OUR apartment.

You should watch your language. I am still fucking pissed, too.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Fuck it. I don’t want an e-mail fight with Ana. I storm out of my office and into the living area. My temper eases at the sight of the cold chicken salad that Mrs. Jones has prepared for my lunch.

Maybe I’m so mad because I’m hungry.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“I’m going to the Greek deli that Mrs. Grey likes, to pick up her favorite foods from there for this evening. She’ll just have to pop them in the oven or microwave to heat them up.”

“Great,” I say, distracted. Why are Ana and I

“Mr. Grey—” Mrs. Jones is trying to get my attention.

“Yes.”

“Thank you for this evening. But I must say you look tired. Have you thought

I frown. A nap? I’m not a child. “No.”

“It’s

it under advisement,” I mutter, and bring my salad into

Welch calls while I’m eating.

“Welch.”

“Interesting development in the Hyde case,” he rasps in his gruff voice. “Turns out Hyde’s van in the garage was kitted out with a mattress

“Ketamine. Shit.” I was right!

“Yes, sir. And syringes.”

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