Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 11
Supposesomeonehackedintohisaccount?Iflushatthethought.Idressquickly,shoutahastygood-byetoKate,andI’mofftoworkmylastweekatClayton’s.
JOSÉPHONESATELEVEN.
“Hey,arewedoingcoffee?”HesoundsliketheoldJosé.Josémyfriend,nota—whatdidChristiancallhim?Suitor.Ugh.
“Sure.I’matwork.Canyoumakeitherefor,say,twelve?”
“Seeyouthen.”
Hehangsup,andIgobacktorestockingthepaintbrushesandthinkingaboutChristianGreyandhiscontract.
Joséispunctual.Hecomesboundingintotheshoplikeagambolingdark-eyedpuppy.
“Ana.”Hesmileshisdazzlingtoothyall-Hispanic-Americansmile,andIcan’tbeangrywithhimanymore.
“Hi,José.”Ihughim.“I’mstarving.I’lljustletMrs.ClaytonknowI’mgoingforlunch.”
Aswestrolltothelocalcoffeeshop,IslipmyarmthroughJosé’s.I’msogratefulforhis…normality.SomeoneIknowandunderstand.
“Hey,Ana,”hemurmurs.“You’vereallyforgivenme?”
“José,youknowIcanneverstaymadatyouforlong.”
Hegrins.
ICAN’TWAITTOgethome,thelureofe-mailingChristian,andmaybeIcanbeginmyresearchproject.Kateisoutsomewhere,soIfireupthenewlaptopandopenmye-mail.Sureenough,there’samessagefromChristiansittingintheinbox.I’mpracticallybouncingoutofmyseatwithglee.
***
From:ChristianGrey
Subject:WorkingforaLiving
Date:May23201117:24
To:AnastasiaSteele
DearMissSteele,
Idohopeyouhadagooddayatwork.
ChristianGrey
CEO,GreyEnterprisesHoldings,Inc.
Ihit“reply.
