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hands as if were a life raft, and I go for honesty.
    “I’m not writing it, Katherine is. Miss Kavanagh. My roommate, she’s the writer.
    She’s very happy with it. She’s the editor of the magazine, and she was devastated that she couldn’t do the interview in person.” I feel like I’ve come up for air – at last, a normal topic of conversation. “Her only concern is that she doesn’t have any original photographs of you.”
    Grey raises an eyebrow.
    “What sort of photographs does she want?”
    Okay. I hadn’t factored in this response. I shake my head, because I just don’t know.
    “Well, I’m around. Tomorrow, perhaps… ” he trails off.
    “You’d be willing to attend a photo shoot?” My voice is squeaky again. Kate will be in seventh heaven if I can pull this off. And you might see him again tomorrow, that dark place at the base of my brain whispers seductively at me. I dismiss the thought – of all the silly, ridiculous…
    “Kate will be delighted – if we can find a photographer.” I’m so pleased, I smile at him broadly. His lips part, like he’s taking a sharp intake of breath, and he blinks. For a fraction of a second, he looks lost somehow, and the Earth shifts slightly on its axis, the tectonic plates sliding into a new position.
    Oh my. Christian Grey’s lost look.
    “Let me know about tomorrow.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. “My card. It has my cell number on it. You’ll need to call before ten in the morning.”
    “Okay.” I grin up at him. Kate is going to be thrilled.
    “ANA!”
    Paul has materialized at other the end of the aisle. He’s Mr. Clayton’s youngest brother. I’d heard he was home from Princeton, but I wasn’t expecting to see him today.
    “Er, excuse me for a moment, Mr. Grey.” Grey frowns as I turn away from him.
    Paul has always been a buddy, and in this strange moment that I’m having with the rich, powerful, awesomely off-the-scale attractive control-freak Grey, it’s great to talk to someone who’s normal. Paul hugs me hard taking me by surprise.
    “Ana, hi, it’s so good to see you!” he gushes.
    “Hello Paul, how are you? You home for your brother’s birthday?”
    “Yep. You’re looking well, Ana, really well.” He grins as he examines me at arm’s length. Then he releases me but keeps a possessive arm draped over my shoulder. I shuffle from foot to foot, embarrassed. It’s good to see Paul, but he’s always been over-familiar.
    When I glance up at Christian Grey, he’s watching us like a hawk, his gray eyes hooded and speculative, his mouth a hard impassive line. He’s changed from the weirdly attentive customer to someone else – someone cold and distant.
    “Paul, I’m with a customer. Someone you should meet,” I say, trying to defuse the antagonism I see in Grey’s eyes. I drag Paul over to meet him, and they weigh each other up. The atmosphere is suddenly arctic.
    “Er, Paul, this is Christian Grey. Mr. Grey, this is Paul Clayton. His brother owns the place.” And for some irrational reason, I feel I have to explain a bit more.
    “I’ve known Paul ever since I’ve worked here, though we don’t see each other that often. He’s back from Princeton where he’s studying business administration.” I’m babbling… Stop, now!
    “Mr. Clayton.” Christian holds his hand out, his look unreadable.
    “Mr. Grey,” Paul returns his handshake. “Wait up – not the Christian Grey? Of Grey Enterprises Holdings?” Paul goes from surly to awestruck in less than a nanosecond. Grey gives him a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
    “Wow – is there anything I can get you?”
    “Anastasia has it covered, Mr. Clayton. She’s been very attentive.” His expression is impassive, but his words… it’s like he’s saying something else entirely. It’s baffling.
    “Cool,” Paul responds. “Catch you later, Ana.”
    “Sure, Paul.” I watch him disappear toward the stock room.