Fifty Shades Trilogy Bundle: Fifty Shades of Grey; Fifty Shades Darker; Fifty Shades Freed Read Online Free

someone so driven to succeed. Some of his answers were so cryptic—as if he had a hidden agenda. And Kate’s questions—ugh! The adoption and asking him if he was gay! I shudder. I can’t believe I said that.
Ground, swallow me up now!
Every time I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment. Damn Katherine Kavanagh!
    I check the speedometer. I’m driving more cautiously than I would on any other occasion. And I know it’s the memory of those penetrating gray eyes gazing at me and a stern voice telling me to drive carefully. Shaking my head, I realize that Grey’s more like a man twice his age.
    Forget it, Ana
, I scold myself. I decide that, all in all, it’s been a very interesting experience, but I shouldn’t dwell on it.
Put it behind you
. I never have to see him again. I’m immediately cheered by the thought. I switch on the stereo and turn the volume up loud, sit back and listen to thumping indie rock music as I press down on the accelerator. As I hit Interstate 5, I realize I can drive as fast as I want.
    WE LIVE IN A small community of duplex apartments close to the Vancouver campus of WSU. I’m lucky—Kate’s parents bought the place for her, and I pay peanuts for rent. It’s been home for four years now. As I pull up outside, I know Kate is going to want a blow-by-blow account, and she is tenacious. Well, at least she has the digital recorder. I hope I won’t have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview.
    “Ana! You’re back.” Kate sits in our living area, surrounded by books. She’s clearly been studying for finals—she’s still in her pink flannel pajamas decorated with cute little rabbits, the ones she reserves for the aftermath of breaking up with boyfriends, for assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression. She bounds up to me and hugs me hard.
    “I was beginning to worry. I expected you back sooner.”
    “Oh, I thought I made good time considering the interview ran over.” I wave the digital recorder at her.
    “Ana, thank you so much for doing this. I owe you, I know. How was it? What was he like?” Oh no—here we go, the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition.
    I struggle to answer her question. What can I say?
    “I’m glad it’s over and I don’t have to see him again. He was rather intimidating, you know.” I shrug. “He’s very focused, intense even—and young. Really young.”
    Kate gazes innocently at me. I frown.
    “Don’t you look so innocent. Why didn’t you give me a biography? He made me feel like such an idiot for skimping on basic research.”
    Kate clamps a hand to her mouth. “Jeez, Ana, I’m sorry—I didn’t think.”
    I huff.
    “Mostly he was courteous, formal, slightly stuffy—like he’s old before his time. He doesn’t talk like a man of twentysomething. How old
is
he, anyway?”
    “Twenty-seven. Jeez, Ana, I’m sorry. I should have briefed you, but I was in such a panic. Let me have the recorder and I’ll start transcribing the interview.”
    “You look better. Did you eat your soup?” I ask, keen to change the subject.
    “Yes, and it was delicious as usual. I’m feeling much better.” She smiles at me in gratitude. I check my watch.
    “I have to run. I can still make my shift at Clayton’s.”
    “Ana, you’ll be exhausted.”
    “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”
    I’VE WORKED AT CLAYTON’S since I started at WSU. It’s the largest independent hardware store in the Portland area, and over the four years I’ve worked here, I’ve come to know a little bit about most everything we sell—although ironically, I’m crap at any DIY. I leave all that to my dad.
    I’M GLAD I CAN make my shift as it gives me something to focus on that isn’t Christian Grey. We’re busy—it’s the start of the summerseason, and folks are redecorating their homes. Mrs. Clayton looks relieved to see me.
    “Ana! I thought you weren’t going to make it today.”
    “My appointment didn’t take