Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 22
InthebackoftheSUV,IquicklytextRay,Kate,andChristian:
*ArrivedsafelyinSavannah.A:)*
MythoughtsstraybrieflytoJoséasIpress“send,”andthroughthefogofmyfatigue,Irememberthathisshowisnextweek.ShouldIinviteChristian,knowinghowhefeelsaboutJosé?WillChristianstillwanttoseemeafterthate-mail?Ishudderatthethought,andthenputitoutofmymind.I’lldealwiththatlater.RightnowIamgoingtoenjoymymom’scompany.
“Honey,youmustbetired.Wouldyouliketosleepwhenwegethome?”
“No,Mom.I’dliketogotothebeach.”
IAMINMYbluehalter-necktankini,sippingaDietCoke,onasunbedfacingtheAtlanticOcean,andtothinkthatonlyyesterdayIwasstaringoutattheSoundtowardthePacific.MymotherloungesbesidemeinaridiculouslylargefloppysunhatandJackieOshades,sippingaCokeofherown.WeareonTybeeIslandBeach,justthreeblocksfromhome.Sheholdsmyhand.Myfatiguehaswaned,andasIsoakupthesun,Ifeelcomfortable,safe,andwarm.Forthefirsttimeinforever,Istarttorelax.
“So,Ana…tellmeaboutthismanwhohasyouinsuchaspin.”
Spin!Howcanshetell?Whattosay?Ican’ttalkaboutChristianinanygreatdetailbecauseoftheNDA,buteventhen,wouldIchoosetotalktomymotheraboutit?Iblanchatthethought.
“Well?”sheprompts,andsqueezesmyhand.
“Hisname’sChristian.He’sbeyondhandsome.He’swealthy…toowealthy.He’sverycomplicatedandmercurial.”
Yes—Ifeelinordinatelypleasedwithmyconcise,accuratesummary.
