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“Okay,” she huffs, and climbs in. She doesn’t live far from me, so our ride shouldn’t take long. Normally I would enjoy driving the small Audi. It’s nimble in Seattle’s traffic. But I’m distracted by every pedestrian. One of them could be Leila.

“Were all your submissives brunettes?” Ana asks out of nowhere.

“Yes.” But I don’t really want to discuss this. Our fledgling relationship is moving into dangerous territory.

“I just wondered.” She’s fidgeting with a tassel on her backpack; fidgeting means she’s apprehensive.

Put her at ease, Grey.

“I told you. I prefer brunettes.”

“Mrs. Robinson isn’t a brunette.”

“That’s probably why. She put me off blondes forever.”

“You’re kidding.” Ana’s disbelief is obvious.

“Yes. I’m kidding.” Do we really have to talk about this? My anxiety multiplies. If she keeps digging, I’ll confess my darkest secret.

No. I can never tell her. She’ll leave me.

Without a backward glance.

And I recall watching her walk up the street and into the garage at The Heathman after our first coffee.

She never looked back.

Not once.

If I hadn’t contacted her about the photographer’s show…I wouldn’t be with her now.

Ana’s strong. If she says good-bye, she means it.

“Tell me about her,” Ana interrupts my thoughts.

you want to know?” More information about Mrs. Lincoln will only

me about your business

a silent partner. I’m not particularly interested in the beauty business, but she’s built it into a successful venture. I just invested and helped

“Why?”

it to

“Oh?”

of Harvard, she loaned me a

“You dropped out?”

years. Unfortunately, my parents were

what?” Grace scowls at

want to leave. I’m going to start

“Doing what?”

“Investments.”

know about investments? You need

a plan. I think

is a huge step that could affect your entire

but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to live in Cambridge for another

back

not the

just haven’t found your

in the real world. Not in academia. It’s

you met someone?” Grace

lie smoothly. I knew Elena before I went

and the tips

is summoning his full-on pompous-prick dad mode, and I worry he’s going to

“Christian, you’re gambling with the

It’s done. I’m sorry to disappoint you again. My decision is already made.

about the wasted tuition?” My mother is wringing

Shit.

“I’ll pay you back.”

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