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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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I
flush
at
my
wayward
and
inappropriate
thoughts
.
The
receptionist
is
a
young
African
-
American
woman
with
large
silver
earrings
and
long
straightened
hair
.
She
has
a
bohemian
look
about
her
,
the
sort
of
woman
I
could
be
friendly
with
.
The
thought
is
comforting
.
Every
few
moments
she
glances
at
up
me
,
away
from
her
computer
,
and
smiles
reassuringly
.
I
tentatively
return
her
smile
.
My
flight
is
booked
,
my
mother
is
in
seventh
heaven
that
I
am
visiting
,
I
am
packed
,
and
Kate
has
agreed
to
drive
me
to
the
airport
.
Christian
has
ordered
me
to
take
my
BlackBerry
and
the
Mac
.
I
roll
my
eyes
at
the
memory
of
his
overbearing
bossiness
,
but
I
realize
now
that
’
s
just
the
way
he
is
.
He
likes
control
over
everything
,
including
me
.
Yet
he
’
s
so
unpredictably
and
disarmingly
agreeable
,
too
.
He
can
be
tender
,
good
-
humored
,
even
sweet
.
And
when
he
is
,
it
’
s
so
left
field
and
unexpected
.
He
insisted
on
accompanying
me
all
the
way
down
to
my
car
in
the
garage
.
Jeez
,
I
’
m
only
going
for
a
few
days
;
he
’
s
acting
like
I
’
m
going
for
weeks
.
He
always
keeps
me
off
balance
.
“
Ana
Steele
?
”
A
woman
with
long
,
black
,
pre
-
Raphaelite
hair
standing
by
the
reception
desk
distracts
me
from
my
introspection
.
She
has
the
same
bohemian
,
floaty
look
as
the
receptionist
.
She
could
be
in
her
late
thirties
,
maybe
in
her
forties
.
It
’
s
so
difficult
to
tell
with
older
women
.
“
Yes
,
”
I
reply
,
standing
awkwardly
.
She
gives
me
a
polite
smile
,
her
cool
hazel
eyes
assessing
me
.
I
am
wearing
one
of
Kate
’
s
dresses
,
a
black
pinafore
over
a
white
blouse
,
and
my
black
pumps
.
Very
interview
,
I
think
.
My
hair
is
restrained
in
a
tight
bun
,
and
for
once
the
tendrils
are
behaving
themselves
.
She
holds
her
hand
out
to
me
.
“
Hello
,
Ana
,
my
name
’
s
Elizabeth
Morgan
.
I
’
m
head
of
human
resources
here
at
SIP
.
”
“
How
do
you
do
?
”
I
shake
her
hand
.
She
looks
very
casual
to
be
the
head
of
HR
.
“
Please
follow
me
.
”
We
go
through
the
double
doors
behind
the
reception
area
into
a
large
brightly
decorated
open
-
plan
office
,
and
from
there
head
into
a
small
meeting
room
.
The
walls
are
pale
green
,
lined
with
pictures
of
book
covers
.
At
the
head
of
the
maple
conference
table
sits
a
young
man
with
red
hair
tied
in
a
ponytail
.
Small
silver
hooped
earrings
glint
in
both
his
ears
.
He
wears
a
pale
blue
shirt
,
no
tie
,
and
stone
chinos
.
As
I
approach
him
,
he
stands
and
gazes
at
me
with
fathomless
dark
blue
eyes
.
