Work Text:
Andrea
Another day another dollar I make working for a batshit crazy, yet brilliant billionaire CEO.
I’m momentarily distracted by an imaginary image of my boyfriend's abs shining in the sun. Like a pack of warm Hawaiian bread that’s been brushed with butter. My stomach growls. Please shut up!
“What the hell is legal doing down there? Braiding each other’s hair and watching soap operas? I don’t pay them to make mistakes, I pay them to get it fucking right.”
And just like that the scrumptious image in my brain disappears.
Oh what I’d give to put this man in a medically induced coma for just a week. One whole week of not hearing from him. I haven’t had morning sex in six years which is when I started working for him.
My boyfriend works for him too, we’ve been dating for about three years. His name is Luke Sawyer and I think he’d agree with me if I said that working for Christian Grey is worse than the PTSD he has from defending our illustrious nation. This man is a bigger diva than Mariah Carey.
We can’t have dinner without the fear of our phones buzzing with random orders from said billionaire. Every month we say we’re going to quit but I think we have Stockholm syndrome… with a generous salary and amazing benefits of course.
Ideally, we think we’re going to stick around for another year, tops and then we’re outta here. Middle fingers in the air and all. We’ll go someplace remote where you perhaps need a boat or I don’t know a sat phone to communicate with the outside world. Just anywhere where Christian Grey cannot find us. Now, I wonder if he’s secretly chipped us via our beverages with that nanobot stuff that I see in sci-fi movies. I think I could get that information out of Barney… he may be scared of Christian Grey but the threat of my red bottoms crushing his balls could be scarier and therefore cause him to spill. Yeah, working here is making me all sorts of randomly paranoid. Must leave the farm, ASAP.
But for that to happen, I need to find my own replacement and no second assistant seems to stick around for more than three months. If they can’t stop fantasizing about being swept off their feet and dragged to a drive-in Church to be pronounced as Mrs. Grey then they’re crying at how downright mean and belligerent he is and then they’re fired before they can quit.
I won’t lie, when I first saw the man, I thought I was hallucinating. Here I was, two years out of business school, working as an executive assistant at a private equity firm not making much and came across a job listing for Grey Enterprises, Inc. They were offering a far more generous salary than my current job even if they were in infancy themselves. I was interviewed by Ros and assumed I’d be working for her till I was introduced to Christian Grey. Yes, he’s hot but what really took me by surprise was that the punk was younger than me. It was soul-crushing.
Anyway, I was genuinely impressed with his work ethic and maintaining of professional boundaries given what I had to endure previously. He was painfully civil and distant. I appreciated and respected that. Soon, the awe at his physical appearance washed away and he was just my boss. However, as the business grew, the more insufferable he became with his moods and outbursts.
Even now, he’s barking out orders and losing his mind over the incompetence by the M&A and legal team over letting a lucrative deal fall apart at the last minute.
God, this man can scream. I check the time on my iPad, it’s too early for lunch but maybe he’s low on sugar? A Snickers? A chocolate croissant? I don’t think the man even knows what chocolate is. He never eats anything normal. It’s all health-conscious food. He needs a cheeseburger with a chocolate shake. That will cure him.
“And I need a new fucking phone,” he growls, thrashing some papers around.
My eyes scan the room. Spotted, a 256gb iPhone crushed to pieces on a beautiful travertine floor. His second one this month. Does he even realize how many families that could feed in the Seattle area? Now it’s just a worthless piece of glass and plastic. Maybe I can still salvage it and sell it over eBay and then donate the money to charity? I walk over to pick it up.
Now he’s on another tirade about Sudanese government being a bunch of motherfucking assholes.
He really needs to get laid… soon. Or he’ll die. I’m certain of it. Or even better, take a vacation Christian Grey… to a remote island where there is no phone signal for MILES. For all the time I’ve worked for him, even the family trips he’s taken which I know are forced because he still finds time to email and call for work related tasks. He needs a solo vacation where all he does is fucks his time away.
I know I WOULD LOVE a vacation like that. I can’t take more than two days off. The first and last time I took a one, ONLY ONE, week vacation where I only went down to San Diego to meet my mom… the man called and emailed me, every. single. Day. My grandmother almost thought he was my boyfriend. I couldn’t blame her, she was growing senile and disappointed I hadn’t ever brought a decent man around.
While the whole world thinks he’s gay or suspects he’s asexual, I know for a fact the man is neither. I’m not an idiot, something shady is going on. A few times a year, I’m ordered to put in a request for some random chick to get a black amex and new phone. And yet none of these women are seen in public with him. I’ve checked and I’ve cyberstalked them. I can’t help it, it’s a curse. What did I say about Stockholm syndrome? The man has taken over my life.
Then there’s that barbie troll, Elena Lincoln. I knew for a fact that she’s involved in whatever this is. Well that, and I may or may not have read some of their emails discussing prospects and names with pictures. One time, I had to retrieve his laptop and give it to Luke, when I hovered over the trackpad, the screen lit up and there it was a website for bondage toys; the page in particular had a generous selection of spreader bars.
That night I asked Luke if Christian Grey was a kinky bastard.
It was then I found out he was a Dominant.
And furthermore, it was then I tortured Luke in bed for not telling me all this time. I was a real kinky bitch that night. He was into it.
Anyhoo, I found myself speechless yet not surprised. It was an odd mixture of thoughts that were swimming around my head. That being said, I felt kind of weirded out by the guy. Not in a bad way but in a more—so that’s what you’re into-kinda way. Or like when you didn’t realize your younger brother was actually kind of a bad ass but you’re also unable to really take him seriously and kind of want to laugh. I don’t know, I’m perpetually confused by this man.
“And I want a turkey sandwich for lunch,” he mutters, “that’ll be all.”
Not even a damn thank you or a smile. The only time I’ve seen him smile is when his younger sister Mia comes around which unfortunately is rare. I wonder why she hasn’t tried to set him up or even his mom, surely as a doctor she can prescribe a suppository?
I sigh in defeat when I get back to my desk and restart my amended agenda for the day.
My one month old assistant Olivia is yet another rich kid favor that Christian Grey is using to bank an eventual favor that will no doubt cost her Senator father.
“You look a little pale, Andrea.” Olivia says, “you want me to get you water?”
I want you to get me another life.
“No… no, I’ll- I’m fine.” I give her a tentative smile, as I look back at my phone to read over an email from my personal account that just came in a few minutes ago. I read it over ten times and it still says the same thing.
Alarm bells start to ring and I realize that I really need to leave this job.
It’s time.
It’s imperative.
“The man is a bad mood on legs. We need to un-bad mood him. For all our sakes.”
Ros nods thoughtfully and sags in her chair with a sigh. Thank God for her. She gets it. Serious and kick ass in the business sphere but also, a regular human being when you need her to be. I lied before, it’s not just that salary and benefits, it’s also the fact that Ros understands my pain. She also gets me the best birthday and Christmas gifts. I suspect it’s because she feels a teeny bit guilty fo
“What are you thinking?” She asks, “stripper for Christmas?” Classic Ros. Party at the strip club or bring the club to you. She loves a good party.
“Too easy and too pedestrian for him.” I snort, “we need something unexpected and obviously not easily linked back to us. Not immediately anyway.”
“I am not going to jail for some hairbrained scheme!” she exclaims.
“We’re not going to jail,” I dismiss with a scoff, sipping on my terribly overpriced and underwhelming smoothie. “He needs us. If there’s one thing I know, it’s this. Because trust me, I’ve been trying to find my replacement so I can quit for the past two years and nothing will stick. He’s deliberately sabotaging my efforts to find a competent second assistant.”
“So then, what do you suggest?”
“Ideally speaking, a brain transplant or a whack to the head to cause amnesia,” Ros throws her head back and laughs, “but since the variables on those two aren’t in our favor, I’m thinking of something a little more fun… for us at least.”
My reluctant partner in crime squints her eyes at me in careful assessment.
“Office Secret Santa!” I declare in all my sinister glory.
Ros snorts, “this is the human grinch we’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah, he’s not going to play but he’s definitely getting a present and I know just the person to give it to him but I need some help and that’s where you come in.”
“I AM NOT DOING THIS.” Barney’s voice bellows and he tries to escape but Sawyer grabs him and sits his ass down.
“Oh, yes you are.” Ros threatens him.
“With all due respect Ros, I work for the boss.” The audacity of this man right now.
“With all due respect, I’m at the end of my rope, Barney.” I growl at him. “Do you realize you see my boyfriend more than I do?” These two get together for game night all the damn time.
“Are you insinuating that we’re in a relationship?”
“NO! You idiot, I mean Grey has me overworked and I am at my wits end.” Now I'm about to cry, “look at me. Look at all this gray hair.” I show him a bunch right next to my temple. “I am 30 years old and I can’t keep going to the salon because it’s bad for the baby and, and…” I start to sob.
“Ba- whaa - baby?” I hear Sawyer’s voice stutter. Ros gasps and Barney looks at me in shock. “You’re pregnant?”
I nod, silent tears running down my cheeks.
“I took a few tests last night and then to be absolutely sure, I had it confirmed by my gynecologist.” I look at Barney, shooting daggers at him, “I had to privately messenger in a biohazard cup and bag, a urine sample to get the result because our maniac boss won’t even let me go to a damn medical appointment. At this point a transvaginal ultrasound sounds like a vacation to me.”
Sawyer envelopes me in a hug and Ros congratulates me. I’m about 7 weeks along and I’ll be damned if the stress turns my body into a warzone for my baby.
“Okay, okay… what do I have to do?” Barney finally assents. “You should’ve just led with the pregnancy you know. I’m not a monster.”
We all roll our eyes and I begin telling them my idea.
“Why her?” Barney queries. He asks too many questions.
“Because he prefers brunettes.” I reply in exasperation.
“How do you know that?” Ros gives me a sideways glance.
“Have you noticed how 99% of the female hires here are blondes?” They all nod, “Now if he were into blondes, we’d be hearing all about sexual harrasment suits. He hates blondes. He barely looks at them. Brunettes are another story. I’ve seen him check them out.” This is a perfectly safe response in comparison to my telling them Dominant Christian Grey is into tying up brunette playthings.
“And he’s checked out this,” Ros leans over Barney’s shoulder to get a better look at the picture, “Anastasia Steele?”
“He doesn’t even know she exists. In fact, I’m not even sure how she got hired but either way, she’s a sweetheart and I think they are perfect for each other.”
“Andrea are you sure?” Luke gives a look and I know what he’s referring to.
“100%” I reply without hesitation. I’ve talked to Ana quite a bit over the last few months. She’s at the bottom of the totem pole down in HR but I can tell she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Grey just needs to meet her once and he’ll fall in love with her. I am certain of it. And if he doesn’t then he’s a fool and I’m quitting.
And while it seems unethical to pair a Dominant Christian Grey with someone and create a possible silence of the lambs situation. Not for her, but for him… I’ve made sure of this. When I first saw Ana, I introduced myself as I usually do since I’m head honcho of the assistant pool in the building. Of course, I am. I run this bitch, anyway, back to my long con… Ana and I went on a few lunch dates and she’s a great girl. Smart, witty and keeps to herself. I’ve already checked, she knows what BDSM is. I made a joke about tying up Luke and she couldn’t stop laughing.
But more than that, I pulled her file from HR. Why? Because as Christian Grey’s assistant, no one really questions me. Anyway, I ordered a more thorough background check on her. The girl can shoot so if Grey does decide to move forward and fuck this up, it’s his balls on the line and I might finally get that proper vacation I am due.
“What if she sues him for sexual harrasment?” Barney asks.
“We just need them to meet. And this is how it will happen. TRUST ME.” I shut them all down. I need someone to just shut up and follow my orders. This will work. It has to. I will pray to every god I need to. “This is as innocent as it gets. I’m certain the man’s never played Secret Santa, it might knock him off his game for a second or two and that’s all we need.”
“But he’s not going to know it’s her.” Luke adds.
“Oh he will, I will make sure he will.” I wiggle my eyebrows and smile, “in order for her to leave the present in his office she’s gotta go in there. People use your imaginations,” I huff annoyedly. “Go home and watch some Netflix Christmas movies. We are engineering a love story and it’s gonna work, I guarantee it.”
It has to or I am going to commit myself to the psych ward indefinitely.
Anastasia
I step into the elevator and pray that I defrost by the time I get to my floor. It’s been getting colder every day. Yes, it’s winter but there is something sinister going on with the weather gods.
I’ve been working at Grey Enterprises for a few months and work for the HR department. I’m surprised I even got a call for the interview in the first place since I had no experience right out of college but apparently, they were looking for someone who was young enough but also grounded to be able to connect with the intern program they run here. I’m an assistant to the Director who runs the program and I like what I do.
I’ve never met Christian Grey. I did watch him give a speech to the incoming interns for this year but other than that, I’ve never seen him. He’s an elusive figure. A very good looking one. There is much speculation about his sexuality given his lack of a publicly documented romantic life. There’s constant chatter among the women about it but it’s like going around in circles, so I call them hamsters.
I’m friendly with his assistant Andrea. The woman is a bit high strung and needs a xanax because she can’t seem to enjoy her lunch without checking her phone and emails every other minute. At one point I took her phone from her and she almost had a nervous breakdown. I felt bad so I brought her some homemade brownies. I couldn’t make out what she was really saying over eating the brownies and mumbling out garbled versions of words as tears fell.
I knew my brownies were good but not that good. For a second I thought I should have quit and start my own business or something.
Waving a greeting at a few coworkers as I walk to my desk, I take a seat and settle in for the morning. I go through my list for the day and hear the incoming ping of a new email. The subject line has me curious, GEH Secret Santa.
I didn’t know they did secret santa here. This place seems so formal for such a tradition. I click open the email and see that I've already been assigned someone but they are nameless. I’m told their sex, age, height, a few interests and their zodiac sign. Interesting. And three days before Christmas I will be notified who the person is so that I can make arrangements to leave the gift in their office and/or desk. And the caveat is that the budget is $30. This will be fun.
I’m giddy all of a sudden. Throughout the day, I ask a few more of my coworkers and they too have gotten the same email with different variables of course. Furthermore, they confirm this is the first time this has ever happened and some of my colleagues have been working here for more than five years. Maybe the boss upstairs is trying to change things up?
When I meet Andrea, my curiosity is at an all time high.
“I was talking to Majid and he was telling me that this has never happened for as long as he’s been working at GEH.” I say, “maybe your boss is feeling the Christmas spirit this year.”
“I know, it’s weird.” Andrea nods, taking a bite of her salad, “do you have any ideas for yours or are you not participating?”
“Are you kidding, of course I'm participating. I love this kinda stuff,” I laugh, excited at the prospect. “What about you?”
“Mine is a woman in her late thirties, a scorpio and likes cats. Basically, my future self if I am never able to leave here.” She mutters. “So I've got this Secret Santa thing in the bag.
“You think the boss got one too?”
“Not sure but if he did, guess who’d be tasked for it?” She rolls her eyes.
The woman works really hard and she looks exhausted even if she’s dressed to the nines.
“Olivia quit?”
“She’s about to.” Andrea sighs, “wanna work with me up there? The money’s great.”
“And misery loves company?” I laugh and she rolls her eyes, “thanks for the offer but I don’t think I’d be a good fit. He seems to have a temper and I don’t really roll like that. I’m not saying I have anger management issued but my knee has been known to meet a groin or two when disrespected unnecessarily..”
At that Andrea laughs, “well, he’s never disrespected me verbally. I’ve never given him a reason to but the man yells too much.”
“Yeah, not my vibe.” I shake my head, “but I’m always here when you need some peace, quiet and a friendly ear to vent.”
After my lunch, I go on the hunt to find a present for my Secret Santa recipient. I have two weeks to do this so I’m positive I’ll find something.
As time passes by and the day gets closer, I’m five days out when my order arrives, so I take great care in wrapping up what I think is a hilarious present. These aren’t meant to be funny anyway. So whoever is meant to get this, I hope they appreciate the humor and have lots of fun with it this holiday season.
In addition, I wrap other small presents I’ve gotten for a few of my coworkers, along with Andrea and Luke of course. They’re all in a similar vein, funny and not at all serious. I think it takes the edge off. I got Andrea a small cushion that says Xanax for her to hug when she’s having a bad day and I got Luke a Hawaiian style shirt with a grinch sipping a fruit drink on it. He loves Hawaiian shirts and isn’t a big fan of Christmas or anything holiday really.
December 22nd, today is the day. I’m so excited. God, why am I such a nerd? I've refreshed my email about 15 times in these last few minutes. A minute later it’s there. I suppress a squeal and quickly open the email to click the link and find out that my recipient is….
No.
No.
NOOOOO.
THIS CANNOT BE.
NO.
Christian Grey.
WHAT? WHY ME?
Now I’m hyperventilating. Shit. No. I can’t give him this. I don’t want to get fired. Fuck! How do I even get into his office? What if he catches me? What if I’m terminated? Not just in terms of my job but my life? I can’t take that risk. I’ve not even left mainland USA once. And I’ve only had one boyfriend and it was abysmal. No, I cannot die before I’ve fallen in love. Real love.
I close out my email program and stand with the intention of going to the ladies room and throwing up.
“Hey Ana, who’s your secret santa?” Majid asks, as I pass by his desk. I make a detour and tell him to share his first. Apparently it’s some babe in PR.
“Someone in building security,” I smile, “don’t know them.”
I don’t know why Majid’s so excited, it’s not like said babe will know it’s him. Oh wait, why am I freaking out? It’s not like Christian Grey will know it’s me? I’m solid.
But I still need to throw up.
Once I’m a bit calmer, I call Andrea’s extension and tell her. Her answer is subdued and ominous.
“Oh. Well… that’s… interesting.”
“Interesting? No, Andrea. It’s disastrous. I have to leave it in his office. Can I just leave it with you?”
“No. The rules are you have to drop it off at the recipient's office or desk yourself. I can cover for you and let you know when he’s out so you won’t have to deal with the fallout.” She promises, “what’d you get him?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. He’ll probably throw it out in the trash.”
“Don’t say that. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.” She assures me.
“Even you don’t believe what you’re saying.” I mutter and she laughs.
It’s decided. Tomorrow at 2:30pm, Christian Grey is supposed to be out for a meeting and I can sneak up and get rid of this present. I got this. I’ll be fine.
Of course, my pep talk does nothing to calm my nerves. All night I tossed and turned. Threw up in the morning before work from nerves. Thank God, it’s close to Christmas and everyone is operating at 50% anyway so it’s helping to mask my own relatively spaciness in general. Andrea messages and tells me it's time. Thankfully, I had prepared to take my lunch a little later today so my boss won’t need me for the next 30 minutes.
Taking the elevator up is a harrowing experience. I’m actively walking into my own execution. When I reach the 20th floor and step into the lobby, I’ve been here before but for some reason, it’s more scary this time around. I see Olivia’s chair is empty. Another one bites the dust.
Andrea signals me to head on in and do my business.
Deep breaths Steele. It’s just a drop off and he’s not even in there. It’s all good. My heels click on through the pristine marble that I can see my own reflection in. I push open his door and take in my surroundings. They’re very distracting despite it being minimally furnished and designed. The negative space really throws me off. Snap out of it Ana, you’re here for a job.
Oh yeah, right!
With determination I walk towards his very clean desk and take out the present and place it with a card on top.
Okay, got this. I can leave now. I take in one last look around the office and find that I really love the scent. Must be his cologne. But it’s cold here and I’m not talking about the temperature and nerves.
Time to get back to work.
I walk towards the office door and just as I’m about to reach it, it opens and and in walks Christian Grey while talking on his phone.
Our eyes meet. His steel gray irises boring into mine with a fury in them. His expression is dark and menacing.
I gulp and take a few steps back, pretty sure that I’m in the middle of an active and long heart attack.
Christian
I am simmering with frustration. The end of the year always presents it’s challenges, of course it does. From Halloween to the New Year, it’s as if everyone progressively gets dumber and slower and irritating. Is it too much to ask people to actually pay attention to the godforsaken job they were hired to do?
It’s been a few months since Susannah and maybe Elena was right, I do need a short-term sub to help get through the holiday season till I can have the time to interview and cultivate an arrangement with one who’s open to a long-term one. Not that many last anyway. I’m supposed to have dinner with her tonight, I’ll bring it up.
My phone buzzes and I check to see a message from Mia. She’s taken over the reins from my mother in regards to the Grey Christmas family dinner this year. Everyone is flying in for the holidays and of course, Mia wasnt to confirm if I will be bringing someone. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. But that’s all she’s getting.
“Ros, tell Woods he’s got 24 hours to turn this around or I am throwing him out on his ass.”
“Yeah, I’ll let him know,” she acquiesces a little distractedly and I’m surprised at her reply.
She usually fights me when it comes to what she believes are rash decisions and sometimes they are but we always bounce back. It’s not like I d0n’t foresee the possible outcomes before I make my decision.
“You’re not going to fight me on this?”
She shrugs.
Well, that’s odd. Maybe she’s going through something personally? Should I ask? Do I want to know? Not sure if I have the energy to listen or retain new information on the emotional front. My reverie is interrupted with Ros’ declared intent to discuss a company in Las Vegas that’s ripe for the taking but taking it under the GEH wing will mean layoffs since conditions are dire.
Our discussion helps pass the time on our drive back GEH.
When we reach the garage and take the executive elevator up to our floor, Ros goes her way and I go mine. I walk past Andrea’s desk and notice she’s not in her seat, while it’s not unusual it’s rare that I ever pass by a completely empty reception desk. Olivia had to be fired. She was begging for it among other things and I couldn't stand the simpering, eyelash Tourette’s and deliberate showing of cleavage. Why can’t these idiots be like Andrea? Professional, discrete and most of all, useful.
I notice my office door slightly open and chalk it up to possibly Andrea being inside to leave something on my desk. My phone rings and it’s Elena.
“Yes, Elena.”
“Christian, I wanted to confirm our dinner plans for this evening.”
“If it wasn’t canceled then it means I’ve kept the appointment.” I reply in irritation. She may be my friend but sometimes she can really waste my time. I proceed to push my office door open when I’m faced with a young blue eyed, brunette looking like a deer in headlights at being caught trying to sneak out of my office.
Who the fuck is she? Elena’s voice prattles on and I hang up without saying another word, shoving my phone back into my pocket. Taking a quick moment to really look at her, I’m pleased at the visual in front of me. Flawless skin, cheeks with a deepening blush and eyes pale as the summer sky. She’s, dare I say, perfect.
Who are you?
She gulps audibly. Good. She’s afraid. She should be. “I… I uh…”
“Who are you? And why are you here?”
“Sir,” Ah, yes… music to my ears but alas, it’s not for the reasons I wish it could be at this moment. “My-my… um, my name is Ana–Anastasia Steele. I work in HR and I’m…” she swallows, eyes fixed on me. “Please don’t fire me. I was only dropping off something.”
Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. But I’m in the mood to have some fun now. I deserve to. I have decided.
“Dropping off what?” I look beyond her frame and see a gift-wrapped item on my desk. What the fuck is this shit? First it was sighs and simpering sighs and now these crazy cows have the audacity to come into MY office and mess with my peace. This one may be pretty and just up my alley but there are still limits and she’s crossed a lot of them.
“Your Secret Santa gift,” she whispers.
My eyes find hers again and she’s biting her lip with her own gaze scanning the floor for some reprieve. A dirty thought comes to mind, and I’m quickly reminded that she’s an employee. Can’t shit where you eat, Grey.
But I can certainly have fun watching her squirm. Maybe then I’ll fire her and take her down another avenue.
“Secret Santa? What the hell?” I kick the door closed and she startles, eyeing the officially blocked off entrance and swallowing again. “Walk with me.”
I hear her heels click behind me and motion her to stand on the opposite side of my desk while I retreat to my chair.
I look at her and she bows her head immediately. So submissive, Miss Steele. The possibilities you present.
“Who put you up to this?” I ask rather brusquely that it startles her.
She shakes her head and explains that no one did. The whole building received an email about employees participating in secret santa this year and that she was only given a few details about the person and a budget. This morning she received information on who the recipient was and therefore she was here to drop off the gift.
I’m not familiar with the tradition but have heard about it in the past as a term not really bothering to find out what exactly it was.
“What’s in it?”
This time she looks up at me, “just a small present. Not a bomb or anything, I promise.” she says with a nervous chuckle and it’s a warm and pleasant sound. I like it.
“Open it,” I order her, tilting my chin to the item in question and she looks at me wide-eyed.
“But sir, it’s your pres–” when I raise a brow she goes quiet and nods, reaching forward to drag the box across the table towards herself and works to unwrap it. She’s slow and deliberate in this task and I take the time to study her. Delicate features and hands. You can tell a lot about people in how they approach simple tasks. She put thought into this. I’ve seen Mia and Elliot always rip open presents like barbarians. Miss Steele is quite neat in her approach to all this.
Once she’s done, she places the two items side by side. A board game called Throw Throw Burrito and a pair of Christmas socks that read jolly af with a beer glass and straw in them.
“This is your idea of a Christmas gift?” I ask her, intrigued by her choices. I’ve never really gotten a gift like this. It makes me appreciate the levity of it.
“Um, it’s kind of supposed to be a fun exchange. Nothing too serious,” she shrugs with a wry smile. “I’m sorry, I can take it back and… I’m sorry to have wasted your time. It won’t happen again.”
“Would you have done this had you known it was for me from the start?”
Her lips set into a thin line and she shakes her head. That offends me more. Why do I care all of a sudden?
I reach over and pick up the card, she opens her mouth and her body moves to try to keep me from picking it up but she stops in time remembering her place.
“It’s my card, I deserve to read it.” I remind her and she looks downward, nodding. I take it out of the envelope.
I hope this little gift adds a little more fun to your holiday season and keeps you warm. Merry Christmas and may you have a wonderful new year with all your hopes and dreams coming true.
I put the card down and take a good look at her while her eyes are busy averting mine.
“Throw Throw Burrito?” I let the humor in my voice shine and what starts off as a confused expression slowly morphs into a smile and eventually a giggle. I really like that sound. I want to hear more of it.
She shrugs, “it’s a fun game to play with family and friends. Even better when you have perfect aim.”
Now I’m intrigued.
“Then let’s play it.” I take off my jacket and place it on the chair. Miss Steele is now staring at me in shock. “Are you alright? Would you like some water?”
“But, I’m…” she looks back at the office door, “I have to work. My boss downstairs doesn't… I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“We are going to play this game right now.”
She looks around the office again before addressing me again, “is this just another creative way to fire me? Because, I’d rather be put out of my misery.”
I raise a brow at her and smirk, “Miss Steele, do you realize that you’ve insulted me three times in the past few minutes.”
Her eyes grow wide in disbelief at my accusation.
“First you creep into my office then you tell me you wouldn’t have given me these gifts had you known it was me from the start and now you’re insinuating that my company would make you miserable.”
“Th-thats not what I meant, sir. I just thought you have better things to do than–” she shakes her head, trying to salvage the situation. I quite like her freaking out like this. “I didn’t mean that you would be horrible company at all, sir. I meant…” realizing she’s losing the battle she goes silent and moves to unbox the game and set it up.
I grab the phone so I can call her boss to explain her short absence. That causes a bit of disbelief on the other end, but I hang up before any more time is wasted.
She explains to me the premise of the game, doing her best to not look at me, I realize. I’m tempted to tease her some more, but I need to focus on the instructions.
The point of the game is to gather as many similar cards in groups of three. Five cards are dealt to each player with the remaining cards separated into four piles.
Since we’re only two players, there are two piles in the middle for community draws and one pile each on one side of each player who quickly needs to go through the piles in order to find as many similar cards as they can. At a time they can only have five cards in hand so if they have to discard the undesirable card before they draw a new one. I pick from the pile of cards she gets rid off and vice versa. It all has to be done quickly.
The moment any of us find the threesome group for similar cards, we’re supposed to announce them and place them face up for everyone to see. However, once a player presents cards with the following; burrito brawl, duel or war, everyone drops what they’re doing and picks up a burrito to throw at the opposite player from them.
“You’ve played this game before?”
She nods silently, making sure the last pile is neatly in place.
“You sound like an expert, I sure hope you won’t let me win because I’m the owner of the company you work for.”
“Could I get it in writing that you won’t fire me if I don’t let you win then?”
“You don’t trust me?” I smirk.
“I don’t know you. You could be a sore loser,” she shrugs. “I’ve heard divorce proceedings take place after losing in Monopoly, over fake money. The world is a strange place.”
I chuckle and she smiles with a shrug.
Following her lead we get into the mechanics of playing the game and it’s a bit of a shame because I’m supposed to remain focused but also I want to watch her. A few minutes of us going through the piles of cards, she cheers. It’s the most animated I’ve seen her.
“HAH!” She places the cards down “Burrito brawl.” She grabs one of the burritos and runs like the speed of light to one end of the office.
What the hell?
I grab mine and walk around my desk.
“You have to maintain distance.” She warns, signaling me to use the chairs near my table as an imaginary line.
“This is a little bit ridiculous.” I chuckle.
She shrugs, “you wanted to play the game so here we are. Hit me with your best shot, Mr. Grey.”
We both smile at each other and get ready to throw the burritos.
I have a feeling I’m about to win a lot more than just a game this afternoon.
Andrea
“And that is the story of how you came to be, Theodore Raymond Grey.” I sigh, “never forget.”
“You tell him this story, every time he comes here. He’s only a year old, Andrea.” My boss reminds me.
“And I’m only getting older. This is me taking care of my 401K.” I shoot back, “he needs to know how he came to be.” I turn back to Teddy, “And listen to me, I want a nice house on the beach. Luke’s not going to look like that forever, so preferably I need some place with a nice view of nature in all shapes and sizes. I’d try and bank my hopes on my daughter but she’s been a real traitor lately. You’re my only hope.”
Teddy coos in acknowledgement. Such a smart kid.
My boss laughs and leans down to pick his son up. He kisses his forehead and sways a little to keep the little angel happy.
“Let me guess, you also bank on his first word being Andrea?”
“I won’t be mad if it is.”
Just then the boss’s wife walks in, all smiles at the sight of her two men.
“Have they been bothering you, Andrea?”
“The older one has been a bit of a challenge today but the younger one is almost brainwashed. I just need to show him some villa listings in Hawaii and I'll be good to go.” I wink and move to leave the young family to spend some time.
“Bye Teddy!” I wave and he gives me a beaming smile back.
I knew it would work. All Christian Grey needed was a cute that would knock him off his feet or have a burrito thrown in his face. Whatever, it worked. Sawyer may have worked some illegal magic to get me a link into his CCTV office that day, three years ago. I had to make sure the boss wouldn’t murder poor Ana but he didn’t. And now they’re married with a baby boy.
Christian Grey has never been so…. calm and nice and just a normal human being. The moment they started dating, life became easier. I actually went on a vacation and didn’t hear from him once. It was beautiful. And what’s even more beautiful is that I have two assistants under my rule. I attribute these changes to Ana and only her.
Luke and I have a daughter. Her name is Isla Sawyer. She’s got my blonde hair, Luke’s green eyes and is a mixture of our personalities. GEH has a daycare and it helps that we can have Isla close to us at work in the most secure facilities we could ever ask for.
Christian Grey has become a different man. He’s no longer the walking bad mood that had me going gray but the man who’s finally enjoying the life he spent so much time building. He laughs, acts silly with his kid. He smiles and says thank you. He actually jokes with me and talks to me like a person. Who knew that underneath all that grump was actually a sane human being who had a sense of humor?
I even got a brief mention in his wedding speech.
We all were eventually found out when he demanded to know where the Secret Santa idea came from. One by one, they all caved and blamed me. But I stood defiant and dared him to fire me.
He didn’t and then I rained down hell on Luke, Barney and Ros for being a bunch of wimps.
And now, Secret Santa is a tradition at GEH and Christian Grey buys his own damn gifts for his loved ones. It was part of my agreement when I wanted to revisit the term of my employment given my pregnancy and what not.
I have to say, Christian Grey trying to find a $30 gift has got to be the biggest 1st world problem I’ve seen him lose sleep over.
The door to his office opens and the trio walks out, making their way to the elevator.
“Andrea, cancel all my appointments. I’m going home.” Mr. Grey announces, while Mrs. Grey winks at me.
“Yes, sir!” I reply and wave at my favorite Grey of all. His tiny, chubby hand returns the gesture.
The end.
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