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alley.
    Hell, not again!
I stop my response in its tracks. There’ll be time for that later,
if
she says yes. She takes another bite and another and I know she’ll continue eating. I’m grateful for the diversion that our food has provided. Slicing into my steak, I take a bite. It’s not bad.
    We continue to eat, watching each other but saying nothing.
    She hasn’t told me to fuck off. This is good. And as I study her I realize how much I’m enjoying just being in her company. Okay, so I’m tied up in all kinds of conflicting emotions…but she’s here. She’s with me and she’s eating. I’m hopeful we can make my proposition work. Her reaction to the kiss in the alley was…visceral. She still wants me. I know I could have fucked her there and she wouldn’t have stopped me.
    She interrupts my reverie. “Do you know who’s singing?” Over the restaurant sound system, a young woman with a soft lyrical voice can be heard. I don’t know who she is, but we both agree she’s good.
    Listening to this singer reminds me that I have the iPad for Ana. I hope that she lets me give it to her, and that she likes it. In addition to the music I uploaded yesterday, I spent some time this morning adding more features—photographs of the glider on my desk and of the two of us at her graduation ceremony and a few apps, too. It’s my apology, and I’m optimistic that the simple message I’ve had engraved on the back conveys my sentiment. I hope she doesn’t think it’s too cheesy. I just need to give it to her first, but I don’t know if we’ll get to that point. I suppress my sigh because she’s always been difficult about accepting gifts from me.
    “What?” she asks. She knows I’m up to something, and not for the first time I wonder if she can read my mind.
    I shake my head. “Eat up.”
    Bright blue eyes regard me. “I can’t manage any more. Have I eaten enough for Sir?”
    Is she deliberately trying to goad me? I scrutinize her face, but she seems genuine, and she’s eaten more than half of what was on her plate. If she hasn’t eaten anything over the last few days she’s probably had enough to eat this evening.
    “I’m really full,” she reiterates.
    As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket, signaling a message. It will be from Taylor, he’s probably close to the gallery by now. I glance at my watch.
    “We have to go shortly. Taylor’s here, and you have to be up for work in the morning.” I hadn’t considered that before. She’s working now—she needs sleep. I may have to revise my plans and my body’s expectations. The thought of deferring my desire displeases me.
    Ana reminds me that I need to be up for work, too.
    “I function on a lot less sleep than you do, Anastasia. At least you’ve eaten something.”
    “Aren’t we going back via
Charlie Tango
?”
    “No, I thought I might have a drink—Taylor will pick us up. Besides, this way I have you in the car all to myself—for a few hours, at least. What can we do but talk?” And I can put my proposition to her.
    I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Stage three of the campaign has not gone as smoothly as I anticipated.
    She’s made me jealous.
    I’ve lost control.
    Yes. As usual, she’s derailed me. But I can turn this around and close the deal in the car.
    Don’t give up, Grey.
    Summoning the waiter, I ask for the check, then call Taylor. He answers on the second ring.
    “Mr. Grey.”
    “We’re atLe Picotin, Southwest Third Avenue,” I inform him and hang up.
    “You’re very brusque with Taylor…In fact, with most people.”
    “I just get to the point quickly, Anastasia.”
    “You haven’t gotten to the point this evening. Nothing’s changed, Christian.”
    Touché, Miss Steele.
    Tell her. Tell her, now, Grey.
    “I have a proposition for you.”
    “This started with a proposition.”
    “A different proposition,” I clarify.
    She’s a little skeptical, I think, but maybe she’s curious, too. The waiter