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“I read the impact assessment.”

“And?”

“This is a gamble.”

“It is,” she acknowledges.

“But everything in life is a gamble, and at least as a joint venture we’ll share the risk and it might secure the future of the shipyard here.”

Ros and Marco nod.

“Let’s move this forward.”

“I’ll get the team on that,” Marco says.

“Good. I think that’s it. Thank you, everyone.”

They all rise, except for Ros. “Can I have a quick word?” she asks.

“Sure.”

She waits until everyone leaves.

“Well?” And I wait for her to chastise me for my daydreaming.

“Woods has withdrawn his legal threats. We’re all good.”

“That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”

“I know. Honestly, Christian, it’s like you’re on your honeymoon already.”

“Honeymoon? I haven’t even thought about a honeymoon.”

Shit. Something else to organize.

Ros scoffs. “You’d better get on it.” She shakes her head. “I know I’d whisk Gwen away to Europe.”

I’m surprised by Ros’s candor—she rarely discusses her home life, although I know she has a domestic partnership with Gwen. Frequent attempts to legalize gay marriage in Washington have been thwarted. I make a mental note to talk to Senator Blandino about this when we next meet; surely she can apply some pressure to the governor and help push this agenda? “I thought Ana and I might stay somewhere near Bellevue overnight. We’re both working.”

“Grey, you can do better than that.” Ros screws up her face in mock disgust as she starts to gather her papers together.

I laugh. “Yes, I can. And what’s more, I’ll have fun figuring out what to do. Europe, you say.”

Ana’s always wanted to see Europe. England especially.

Ros’s lips twitch into a benevolent smile as she stands. “Good luck with that.” Her parting words echo through the empty room, leaving me to contemplate where the hell I’m going to take the future Mrs. Grey for a honeymoon.

I hope she has a passport.

Back in my office I check my computer, and there’s an e-mail from Ana that she sent an hour ago.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Jibbing and Jibing. Bowlines and Halyards.

Date: July 5 2011 9:54

To: Christian Grey

My darling Mr. Grey

What a spectacular weekend! The best July 4th ever. Thank you.

I am also giving you advance notice that I will be staying at my apartment with Kate on Friday. I will be packing so I can move in with you on Saturday. But, I should warn you, this will be a girls-only evening, so your presence will not be required, but much missed.

Maybe you can write your vows?

Just an idea.

Laters, baby.

Axxx

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Abandoning ship.

Date: July 5 2011 11:03

To: Anastasia Steele

My darling fiancée

Thank YOU for the most relaxed July 4th I’ve ever experienced.

I will miss you on Friday.

But will help you move in on Saturday.

You make my dreams come true.

I will consider my vows and maybe write a few…

I did not mean that to rhyme!

Christian Grey

CEO & poet, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

PS: Do you possess a passport?

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Citizen of the USA

Date: July 5 2011 11:14

To: Christian Grey

Dear Poet

I’d stick to high finance if I were you.

Though I’m glad your dreams doth come true.

I’m thrilled and honored to report.

I do possess a new passport.

Now you have me thinking why?

Are we off someplace to fly?

I’d love to travel the world with you.

Not as one, but as two.

Curious of Seattle xxx

(And not a poet, as you can tell!)

My future wife is a dreadful poet! Grinning at her response, I grab my gym bag and head out of the office, and down to the basement to face Bastille.

Fresh from the gym, I finish my chicken-salad sandwich at my desk and pick up the phone. It’s time to call Elliot. I’ve been putting this off because I know he’ll give me shit.

“Hotshot. What gives?”

“Hello, Elliot. How are you?”

He laughs. “Jesus, man, you sound bored as fuck!”

Why is this so difficult?

“I’m not bored. I’m working. And taking some time out to talk to you.”

“Now you sound pissed.”

“I am.”

“Something I said?” He cackles over the line, and I’m tempted to hang up and try again later.

I take a deep breath. “I need to ask you something.”

“About the new house?”

“No.”

Game on, Grey. Ask him.

“Spit it out, man,” he says when I don’t respond. “This is like waiting for concrete to cure.”

“Will you be my best man?”

There. It’s done. And there’s a deafening silence on the other end of the phone, save for his quick gasp. Shit. Is he going to say no?

“Elliot?”

“Sure,” he says with uncharacteristic brevity. “Um…I’d be honored.” He sounds stunned. Why? Surely he knew this was coming?

“Good. Thank you.” My relief is clear in my voice.

He laughs, and I know my brother has recovered his dickwad humor. “Of course, this means I get to organize your goddamned bachelor party!” He whoops like a deranged gorilla.

Bachelor party? He’s got to be kidding.

“Whatever, Elliot.” An idea pops into my head. “Come over Friday. We can shoot some pool. Ana is spending the evening with Kate.”

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