“I hate to think of you being hurt, darling. I hope she’s with you for the right reasons.”
“Who? Ana? What are you implying, Mother?”
“You’re a wealthy man, Christian.”
“You think she’s a gold-digger?” And it’s like she’s struck me.
Fuck.
“No, that’s not what I said—”
“Mom. She’s not like that at all.” I’m trying not to lose my temper.
“I hope so, darling. I’m just watching out for you. Be careful. Most young people experience heartbreak during their adolescence.” She gives me a knowing look.
Oh, please. My heart was broken way, way before I hit puberty.
“Darling, you know we only want you happy, and I have to say, on the evidence of this evening, I’ve never seen you happier.”
“Yeah. Mother, I appreciate the concern, but it’s all good.” I almost cross my fingers behind my back. “Now I’m going to rescue my gold-digging girlfriend from the clutches of my father.” My voice is arctic.
“Christian—” My mother tries to call me back, but frankly she can fuck off. How dare she think that of Ana. And why the hell is Elena gossiping about me and Ana to Grace?
“That’s enough dancing with old men,” I announce to Ana and my dad.
Carrick laughs. “Less of the ‘old,’ son. I’ve been known to have my moments.” He winks at Ana and swaggers away to join his distressed-looking wife.
“I think my dad likes you,” I mutter, feeling murderous.
“What’s not to like?” Ana says with a coy smile.
“Good point well made, Miss Steele.” I pull her into an embrace as the band starts to play “It Had to Be You.”
“Dance with me.” My voice is low and husky.
“With pleasure, Mr. Grey,” she replies. We dance and my thoughts of gold-diggers, overanxious parents, and interfering ex-Dommes are forgotten.
SUNDAY, JUNE 12, 2011
* * *
At midnight, the MC declares that we can remove our masks. We stand on the banks of the bay and watch the astonishing fireworks display, Ana in front of me, cloaked in my arms. Her face is lit by a kaleidoscope of colors as the fireworks explode in the sky above us. She marvels at each dazzling burst, a huge grin on her face. The display is perfectly timed to the music, Handel’s “Zadok the Priest.”
It’s stirring.
My parents have gone overboard for their guests, and it makes me feel a little less annoyed with them. The final volley of rockets bursts into golden stars that light up the bay. The crowd spontaneously applauds as sparks rain down from the sky, illuminating the black water.
It’s spectacular.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC calls out as the cheers and whistles fade. “Just one note to add at the end of this wonderful evening: your generosity has raised a total of one million eight hundred and fifty-three thousand dollars!” The news is met with rousing cheers from the crowd. It’s an impressive total. I imagine my mother has been busy all evening extracting money from her wealthy friends and guests. My contribution of $600,000 has helped. The applause is deafening, and on the pontoon where the fireworks technicians have been busy, the words “Thank You from Coping Together” light up in silver sparklers and shimmer over the dark mirror of the bay.
“Oh, Christian, that was wonderful,” Ana exclaims, and I kiss her. I suggest to her that it’s time to go. I can’t wait to get home and curl up with her. It’s been a long day. I’m hoping that I don’t need to persuade her to stay the night. For a start, Leila is still at large. Also, in spite of everything, I’ve enjoyed today, and I want more. I want her to stay through Sunday, and maybe next week, too.
Tomorrow Ana can see Dr. Greene and, depending on the weather, we could either go soaring or go sailing. I could show her The Grace.
Spending more time with Ana is appealing.
Very appealing.
Taylor approaches, shaking his head, and I know he wants us to stay put until the crowd disperses. He’s been vigilant all evening and must be exhausted. I follow his direction and ask Ana to wait with me.
“So, Aspen?” I ask, to divert her.
“Oh, I haven’t paid for my bid,” she says.
“You can send a check. I have the address.”
“You were really mad.”
“Yes, I was.”
“I blame you and your toys.”
“You were quite overcome, Miss Steele. A most satisfactory outcome, if I recall. Incidentally, where are they?”
“The silver balls? In my bag.”
“I’d like them back. They are far too potent a device to be left in your innocent hands.”
“Worried I might be quite overcome again, maybe with somebody else?” she says, with a wicked gleam in her eye.
Ana, don’t tease me about these things.
“I hope that’s not going to happen. But no, Ana, I want all your pleasure.”
Always.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asks.
“Implicitly. Now, can I have them back?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Miss Steele is playing hardball.
In the distance, the DJ has started his set.
“Do you want to dance?” I ask.
“I’m really tired, Christian. I’d like to go, if that’s okay.”
I motion to Taylor. He nods and talks into his sleeve microphone to the other security personnel, and we make our way across the lawn. Mia gallops toward us with her shoes in hand. “You’re not going, are you? The real music’s just beginning. Come on, Ana.” She grabs Ana’s free hand.
“Mia, Anastasia’s tired. We’re going home. Besides, we have a big day tomorrow.”
Ana looks at me in surprise.
Mia pouts because she’s not getting her way, but she doesn’t push it. “You must come by sometime next week. Maybe we can hit the mall?”
“Sure, Mia,” Ana replies, and I hear the fatigue in her voice. I must get her home. Mia kisses Ana good-bye, then grabs me and hugs me, hard. Her face shines as she stares up at me.
“I like seeing you this happy,” she says, and she kisses me on the cheek. “Bye. You guys have fun.” She runs off to her waiting friends, who start making their way to the dance floor.
My parents are nearby, and I’m now feeling guilty about the outburst with my mother. “We’ll say good night to my parents before we leave. Come.” We stroll toward them. Grace’s face lights up when she sees us. Reaching up, she touches my face, and I try not to scowl at her. She smiles. “Thank you for coming and bringing Anastasia. It was wonderful watching the two of you together.”
“Thanks for a great evening, Mom,” I manage. I don’t want to bring up our earlier conversation in front of Ana.
“Good night, son. Ana,” says Carrick.
“Please do come again, Anastasia, it’s been lovely having you here,” Grace enthuses. She seems sincere, and the sting of her gold-digger comment begins to fade. Perhaps she is just looking out for me. But they don’t know Ana at all. She’s the least acquisitive woman I’ve ever met.