Fifty Shades Darker (book 5) novel Chapter 57

“She cares about you,” Ana says.

“Yes, and I her, as a friend.”

“I think it’s more than a friendship to her.”

“Anastasia, Elena and I—” I stop. What can I tell Ana to reassure her? “It’s complicated. We have a shared history. But it is just that, history. As I’ve said to you time and time again, she’s a good friend. That’s all. Please, forget about her.” I kiss her hair and she says no more.

I take her hand, and we wander back to the dance floor.

“Anastasia,” my father says in his smooth tone. He’s standing behind us. “I wondered if you’d do me the honor of the next dance.” Carrick holds his hand out to her.

I give him a smile and watch him lead my date onto the dance floor as the band starts “Come Fly with Me.”

They’re soon enjoying a spirited conversation and I wonder again if it’s about me.

“Hello, darling.” My mother sidles up to me, holding a glass of champagne.

“Mother, what were you trying to say?” I ask without any preamble.

“Christian, I—” She stops and looks anxiously at me, and I know she’s prevaricating. She never likes to give bad news.

My anxiety level rises. “Grace. Tell me.”

“I spoke with Elena. She told me that you and Ana had split up and that you were heartbroken.”

What?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she continues. “I know you run a business together, but I was upset hearing it from her.”

“Elena is exaggerating. I wasn’t heartbroken. We had a falling-out. That’s all. I didn’t tell you because it was temporary. It’s fine now.”

“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—”

“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.