“Good morning, Gail.” Stretching, I look out the windows at the remnants of a vivid dawn.
“You have some laundry there?” she asks.
“Yes. These are Anastasia’s.”
“Do you want me to wash and press them?”
“Do you have time?”
“I’ll put them on the quick cycle.”
“Excellent, thank you.” I pass her Ana’s clothes. “How was your sister?”
“Very well, thanks. The kids are growing. Boys can be rough.”
“I know.”
She smiles and offers to make me some coffee.
“Please. I’ll be in my study.” As she watches me her smile changes from pleasant to knowing…in the way that’s feminine and secretive. Then she hurries out of the kitchen, I assume to the laundry room.
What’s her problem?
Okay, this is the first Monday—the first time—in the four years she’s worked for me that there’s been a woman asleep in my bed. But it’s not that big a deal. Breakfast for two, Mrs. Jones. I think you can manage that.
I shake my head and wander into my study to start work. I’ll shower later…maybe with Ana.
I check my e-mails and send one to Andrea and Ros, saying I’ll be in this afternoon, not this morning. Then I take a look at Barney’s latest schematics.
GAIL KNOCKS AND BRINGS me a second cup of coffee, letting me know it’s already 8:15.
That late?
“I’m not going into the office this morning.”
“Taylor was asking.”
“I’ll go this afternoon.”
“I’ll tell him. I’ve hung Miss Steele’s clothes in your closet.”
“Thank you. That was quick. She still asleep?”
“I think so.” And there’s that little smile again. I arch my brows and her smile broadens as she turns to leave my study. I put my work aside and head off with my coffee to take a shower and have a shave.
ANA IS STILL OUT for the count when I finish dressing.
You’ve exhausted her, Grey. And it was pleasurable, more than pleasurable. She looks serene, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.
Good.
From the chest I take my watch, and on an impulse open the top drawer and pocket my last condom.
You never know.
I amble back through the living room toward my study.
“Do you want your breakfast yet, sir?”
“I’ll have breakfast with Ana. Thanks.”
I pick up the phone and call Andrea from my desk. After we’ve exchanged a few words she puts me through to Ros.
“So when can we expect you?” Ros’s tone is sarcastic.
“Good morning, Ros. How are you?” I say sweetly.
“Pissed.”
“At me?”
“Yes, at you, and your hands-off work ethic.”
“I’ll be in later. The reason I’m calling is I’ve decided to liquidate Woods’s company.” I’ve told her this already, but she and Marco are taking too long. I want this done, now. I remind her that this was going to happen if the company’s P&L didn’t improve. And it hasn’t.
“He needs more time.”
“I’m not interested, Ros. We’re not carrying deadweight.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t want any more lame excuses.” Enough, already. I’ve made up my mind.
“Christian—”
“Have Marco call me, it’s shit-or-bust time.”
“Okay. Okay. If that’s what you really want. Anything else?”
“Yes. Tell Barney that the prototype looks good, though I’m not sure about the interface.”
“I thought the interface worked well, once I figured it out. Not that I’m an expert.”
“No, it’s just missing something.”
“Talk to Barney.”
“I want to meet him this afternoon to discuss.”
“Face-to-face?”
Her sarcasm is irritating. But I ignore her tone and tell her that I want his whole team there to brainstorm.
“He’ll be pleased. So I’ll see you this afternoon?” She sounds hopeful.
“Okay,” I reassure her. “Transfer me back to Andrea.”
While I wait for her to pick up the phone I gaze out at the cloudless sky. It’s the same shade as Ana’s eyes.
Sappy, Grey.
“Andrea—”
A movement distracts me. Looking up, I’m pleased to see Ana standing in the doorway, dressed in nothing but my T-shirt. Her legs, long and shapely, are on display for my eyes only. She has great legs.
“Mr. Grey,” Andrea answers.
My eyes lock with Ana’s. They are the color of a summer sky and just as warm. Good Lord, I could bask in her warmth all day—every day.
Don’t be absurd, Grey.
“Clear my schedule this morning, but get Bill to call me. I’ll be in at two. I need to talk to Marco this afternoon, that will need at least half an hour.”
A soft smile tugs at Ana’s lips and I find myself mirroring her.
“Yes, sir,” Andrea says.
“Schedule Barney and his team in after Marco or maybe tomorrow, and find time for me to see Claude every day this week.”
“Sam wants to talk to you, this morning.”
“Tell him to wait.”
“It’s about Darfur.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently he sees the aid convoy as a great personal PR opportunity.”
Oh, God. He would, wouldn’t he?
“No, I don’t want publicity for Darfur.” My voice is gruff with exasperation.