“Close protection. They’re under Taylor’s control. He’s trained in that, too.” I hand her a glass.
“He’s very versatile.”
“Yes, he is. You look lovely, Anastasia. Cheers.” I raise my glass to meet hers. She takes a sip and closes her eyes, savoring the wine.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, noting the pink flush on her cheeks, the same blush of the champagne, and I wonder how long she’ll tolerate the balls.
“Fine, thank you.” She gives me a coy smile.
Tonight will be entertaining.
“Here, you’re going to need this.” I give her the velvet bag that contains her mask. “Open it.”
Ana does and pulls out the delicate silver masquerade mask and runs her fingers through the plumes.
“It’s a masked ball.”
“I see.” She examines the mask in wonder.
“This will show off your beautiful eyes, Anastasia.”
“Are you wearing one?”
“Of course. They’re very liberating, in a way.”
She grins.
I have one more surprise for her. “Come. I want to show you something.” I hold out my hand and lead her back out to the corridor and into my library. I can’t believe I haven’t shown her this room.
“You have a library!” she exclaims.
“Yes, the balls room, as Elliot calls it. The apartment is quite spacious. I realized today, when you mentioned exploring, that I’ve never given you a tour. We don’t have time now, but I thought I’d show you this room and maybe challenge you to a game of billiards in the not-too-distant future.”
Her eyes are bright with wonder as she takes in the collection of books and the billiard table. “Bring it on,” she says with a self-satisfied grin.
“What?” She’s hiding something. Can she play?
“Nothing,” she says quickly, and I know that’s probably the answer. She really is a hopeless liar.
“Well, maybe Dr. Flynn can uncover your secrets. You’ll meet him this evening.”
“The expensive charlatan?”
“The very same. He’s dying to meet you. Shall we go?”
She nods, and excitement shines in her eyes.
WE TRAVEL IN COMPANIONABLE silence in the back of the car. I skim my thumb across her knuckles, sensing her growing anticipation. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, and I know the balls are taking their toll.
“Where did you get the lipstick?” she asks out of the blue.
I point to Taylor and mouth his name.
She laughs. Then stops abruptly.
And I know it’s the kegel balls.
“Relax,” I whisper. “If it’s too much…” I kiss each of her knuckles and suck the tip of her little finger, rolling my tongue around it, as she did with my finger earlier. Ana closes her eyes, tips her head back, and inhales. Her smoldering eyes meet mine when she opens them again. She rewards me with a wicked grin and I respond in kind.
“So what can we expect at this event?” she asks.
“Oh, the usual stuff.”
“Not usual for me.”
Of course. When would she have been to an event like this? I kiss her knuckles once more as I explain. “Lots of people flashing their cash. Auction, raffle, dinner, dancing—my mother knows how to throw a party.”
The Audi joins the line of cars arriving at my parents’ house. Ana strains to have a look. I glance out of the back window to see Reynolds from the security detail following us in my other Audi Q7.
“Masks on.” I retrieve mine from the black silk bag beside me.
When we pull up into the driveway, we are both in disguise. Ana looks spectacular. She’s dazzling, and I want to show her off to the world. Taylor comes to a stop and one of the valets opens my door.
“Ready?” I ask Ana.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“You look beautiful, Anastasia.” I kiss her hand and climb out of the car.
I put my arm around my date, and we walk alongside the house on a green carpet my mother has rented for the occasion. I glance once over my shoulder and observe our four security personnel walking behind us, looking everywhere. It’s reassuring.
“Mr. Grey!” A photographer calls out to me, and I pull Ana close and we pose.
“Two photographers?” Ana observes, curious.
“One is from The Seattle Times; the other is for a souvenir. We’ll be able to buy a copy later.”
We pass a line of servers holding flutes of champagne and I hand a glass to Ana.
My parents have gone all-out, like they do every year. Pavilion, pergolas, lanterns, checkered dance floor, ice swans, and a string quartet. I watch Ana as she takes in the surroundings with awe. It’s gratifying to see my parents’ generosity through her eyes. It’s not often that I get the opportunity to stand back and appreciate how lucky I am to be part of their world.
“How many people are coming?” she asks, sizing up the elaborate tent next to the shoreline.
“I think about three hundred. You’ll have to ask my mother.”
“Christian!” I hear the shrill, not-so-dulcet tones of my sister; then she’s throwing her arms around my neck in a melodramatic display of affection. She’s a vision in pink.
“Mia.” I return her enthusiastic hug. She spies Ana, and I’m forgotten.
“Ana! Oh, darling, you look gorgeous! You must come and meet my friends. None of them can believe that Christian finally has a girlfriend.” She hugs Ana and takes her hand. Ana gives me a quick apprehensive look before Mia drags her to a group of women who coo over her. All except one.
Shit. I recognize Lily, Mia’s friend since kindergarten. Spoiled, wealthy, gorgeous, but spiteful, she embodies all the worst attributes of privilege and entitlement. And there was a time when she thought she was entitled to me. I shudder.
I watch Ana as she’s gracious with Mia’s friends, but she steps back suddenly looking uncomfortable. I think Lily is being an asshole. This will never do. I walk over and put my arm around Ana’s waist. “Ladies, if I could claim my date back, please?”
“Lovely to meet you,” Ana says to the throng as I pull her away. “Thank you,” she mouths.
“I saw that Lily was with Mia. She is one nasty piece of work.”
“She likes you,” Ana observes.
“Well, the feeling is not mutual. Come, let me introduce you to some people.”
Ana is impressive—the perfect date. Gracious, elegant, and sweet, she listens attentively to anecdotes, she asks intelligent questions, and I love the way she defers to me.
Yes. I especially love that. It’s novel and unexpected.
But then she’s always unexpected.
What’s more, she’s oblivious to the many, many admiring glances she receives from both men and women, and she stays close to my side. I attribute her rosy glow to the champagne and maybe the kegel balls, and if the latter are bothering her, she hides it well.
The master of ceremonies announces that dinner is served, and we follow the green carpet across the lawn to the pavilion. Ana is looking toward the boathouse.
“Boathouse?” I ask.
“Maybe we can go there later.”
“Only if I can carry you over my shoulder.”