Chapter 18

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           Dr.Greeneistall,blond,andimmaculate,dressedinaroyal-bluesuit.I’mremindedofthewomenwhoworkinChristian’soffice.She’slikeanidentikitmodel—anotherStepfordblonde.Herlonghairissweptupinanelegantchignon.Shemustbeinherearlyforties.

           “Mr.Grey.”SheshakesChristian’soutstretchedhand.

           “Thankyouforcomingonsuchshortnotice,”Christiansays.

           “Thankyouformakingitworthmywhile,Mr.Grey.MissSteele.”Shesmiles,hereyescoolandassessing.

           Weshakehands,andIknowshe’soneofthosewomenwhodoesn’ttoleratefoolsgladly.LikeKate.Ilikeherimmediately.ShegivesChristianapointedstare,andafteranawkwardbeat,hetakeshiscue.

           “I’llbedownstairs,”hemutters,andheleaveswhatwillbemybedroom.

           “Well,MissSteele.Mr.Greyispayingmeasmallfortunetoattendtoyou.WhatcanIdoforyou?”

           AFTERATHOROUGHEXAMINATIONandlengthydiscussion,Dr.GreeneandIdecideontheminipill.Shewritesmeaprepaidprescriptionandinstructsmetopickthepillsuptomorrow.Iloveherno-nonsenseattitude—shehaslecturedmeuntilshe’sasblueasherdressabouttakingitatthesametimeeveryday.AndIcantellshe’sburningwithcuriosityaboutmyso-calledrelationshipwithMr.Grey.Idon’tgiveheranydetails.SomehowIdon’tthinkshe’dlooksocalmandcollectedifshe’dseenhisRedRoomofPain.IflushaswepassitscloseddoorandheadbackdownstairstotheartgallerythatisChristian’slivingroom.

           Christianisreading,seatedonhiscouch.