Disclaimer: I am not EL James and therefore do not own anything in the Fifty Shades universe. This story is mine; characters are not.

Everyone is entitled to the occasional bad day. Sometimes the second you open your eyes you can just tell nothing will go your way and the universe reinforces that notion with a spilled cup of coffee or heavy traffic that makes you late for work. The only cure for days like that is to crawl back in bed once it's over and pretend it didn't happen. Some people seem more prone to bad days than others and a rare few have lived a bad day since they were born. There are times I believe I fall into the latter category; when I have a bad day, it seems to be endless and spectacularly bad. Especially on this day when my luck tends to get worse with every minute that passes and my level of mortification only climbs.

It started on a day most people consider bad just on principle—Monday. As determined as I had been last night to ensure today went smoothly, the fates are against me. I set my alarm for six in the morning, but apparently didn't actually switch the damn thing on and I slept nearly an hour later than I had intended. The moment I realized the mistake, I jumped out of bed in a rush to get back on track and nearly broke my toe on the way to the bathroom for a shower when I stubbed it on a leg of my dresser. The water in my apartment building where I've lived only for a week has been on the fritz so I couldn't even count on hot water to help me gradually wake up; by the time I reached for a towel, my teeth were chattering from the cold water and I'm sure that if I looked in the mirror, my lips would have been blue. I burned myself on the curling iron then found a small tear in the dress I picked out for the day and since the rest of my good clothes are still packed away from the move, I couldn't change; I managed to nearly burn down the apartment cooking a bagel in the toaster, sustained another burn while I was having my morning tea, and spent fifteen minutes looking for my keys, only to find them on the kitchen table.

I had hoped that would be the end of it, but I should have known better; the streets of my new hometown of Seattle are filled with morning commuters and I'm not as familiar and comfortable with directions as I'd wanted to be by today. With every street I pass, my eyes are darting at the signs, looking for a familiar one to get me on the right path. I'm hoping that if I can get myself on track I won't be nearly as late for my first day of work as I fear. Getting discouraged, I look around everywhere but where I should be looking and when I come to a very sudden halt that results in breaking plastic of my secondhand car my mom and stepdad chipped in for after graduation, I want to cry. I wasn't going too terribly fast—35 MPH at the most, but it's enough to set off my airbag.

"Fuck!" I exclaim, slapping at the bag so I can bang on the steering wheel. I look in front of me; thankfully, the car I rear-ended doesn't seem to have sustained more than a cracked rear bumper. Then again, a car that expensive-looking should hold up against damage from distracted drivers. All I can think about right this second is how my insurance is going to skyrocket after this.

The black Audi SUV pulls to the side of the road and I follow, surprised that my car is actually still operational. A moment later, a man probably in his mid-thirties gets out of the driver's side wearing a sharp suit, aviator sunglasses, and a hair cut that screams military. Sighing, I wonder vaguely if it's possible for this situation to get worse. I open my door as he approaches to get out, but he holds a hand up to stop me. "Are you all right, Miss?" he asks briskly his eyes darting from the SUV to the front end of my car. Even from here I can see how twisted and broken it is.

I nod jerkily, fighting off tears. "I'm so sorry," I say to him. "I wasn't looking where I was going..."

He smiles kindly at me, reassuringly. "No one was hurt; that's what is important."

"Do you have a piece of paper or something so I can give you my information?" I ask, reaching blindly for the glove box where I keep my insurance card.

"Of course," he says, turning and jogging back to the SUV, reaching in for something. I think he might be speaking with someone in the car before he returns. "You're sure you're not hurt?"

"Just embarrassed," I say with a grimace. "It's been a very long morning..." I take the pad of paper he hands me along with the pen and start to jot down the necessary information.

As I finish up, the back passenger side door opens and another man climbs out and I commence staring. It's not every day you see a man as gorgeous as the one now approaching my car to join Sergeant Buzz Cut. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that makes the first man's look cheap. His copper-colored hair is in what I think might be a state of permanent disarray and gray eyes take in the damage to our vehicles before landing on me and narrowing. That's when I know my bad day has hit its pinnacle—when I clock the way his jaw tenses in anger.

"Let me guess," he says coldly, glaring at me. "You were texting."

I frown, my mood suddenly turning towards anger. "Excuse me?" I snap, ignoring Sergeant Buzz Cut's insistence to remain in the car. "I wasn't texting, thank you very much." I flush, knowing my answer isn't much better of an excuse. "I was looking at the street signs."

Rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair, he closes his eyes briefly before speaking again. "Are you all right?" he asks, his voice softer than before as he eyes the airbag then me as though he's checking for injuries. For a second, I let myself believe he's actually checking me out, but that thought is gone quickly.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I reply, relaxing just a bit. I can already feel how sore my muscles are going to be later. "Again, I'm really sorry about this."

Copper Hair nods. "No real harm done," he murmurs, glancing at my car before smirking faintly. "Well, unless you're counting the car. Jason, are the police on their way?"

"Police?" I gasp. It was an accident; surely he's not going to have me arrested. Moments later, my brain catches up; of course they called the police. That is exactly what you're supposed to do after a car accident. I sigh resignedly, debating whether or not I should call my new place of work to inform them that I'll be later than I already am or if I should just grab a cab and go home after this gets sorted.

"Whoa, hey," Copper Hair says suddenly, moving around Buzz Cut to reach me. "It's not a big deal, really; accidents happen."

I can't work out why he looks so suddenly distressed until I feel the tear drops hit my hand. Another level higher for mortification: crying in front of a beautiful male specimen such as the one standing in front of me. When he reaches into his pocket for a handkerchief and hands it to me, I cry harder. "I'm sorry," I whisper again, wiping my cheeks. "I'm having a really bad day. I'm supposed to start an internship this morning and I'm already late and now I don't have a car anymore because it's probably totaled..." I shake my head, hoping this is a nightmare rather than real life and when I wake up, everything will be as it should.

"I wouldn't say it's totaled," he responds, trying to put me at ease. "Look, as soon as the police do their thing, we'll get you to your internship. What's your name?"

Sniffing, I get myself under control. "Ana," I murmur. "Ana Steele. You?"

He takes a breath to respond, but a police car is pulling up alongside us. The officers ask us the circumstances of the accident and I'm prepared to admit my guilt, but Copper Hair shoots me a glance, shaking his head minutely to stop me. I'm so surprised at the action that I close my mouth again. "It was our fault," he tells the police. "My driver was checking a message on his phone and stopped suddenly to avoid hitting a car in front of us. Unfortunately, Miss Steele's reflexes weren't as sharp. I take full responsibility."

I stare at him in shock, open-mouthed, and close it quickly when one of the officers looks at me to confirm the story. Copper's driver seems completely unaffected that his boss is blaming him for the accident and gives his own statement. Information is exchanged all around, Buzz Cut is issued a ticket, and the tow truck arrives to take my car away. "You really didn't have to do that," I tell Copper. "It was my fault."

He only shrugs. "You said yourself you're having a bad day and I doubt it would improve much to have a point on your driver's license. My insurance will cover my car and yours, so you won't have to worry about it," he says dismissively. "Come, I promised to give you a ride to work. Where are you going?"

Bemused by the events that just occurred, I automatically follow his direction, climbing into the back of the SUV. He closes the door and goes around to the other side. "Um, Grey Enterprises Holdings," I mutter as Buzz Cut begins to pull away from the curb.

Copper looks surprised at my destination, smiling slowly and narrowing his eyes at me. "Is that so?" he says thoughtfully.

"Yes," I say, confused. "Do you know where it is?"

Smirking, he glances at the rearview mirror, exchanging a look with his driver that I can only describe as amusement, though I have no idea why. "I have a vague notion," he says mysteriously. "I'm Christian, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Christian," I reply, giving him a small smile.

"And you, Miss Steele. Though not under these circumstances."

I'm surprised when we pull up outside the GEH building after only driving a block or two. I was much closer than I thought. Buzz Cut parks the car and I unbuckle, feeling awkward all of a sudden. "Thank you for the ride," I say shyly to Christian. "And for everything else."

He studies me silently for a moment before a small graces his lips. "My pleasure, Miss Steele," he murmurs. "Perhaps we'll meet again."

The thought of seeing him again distracts me all the way to the elevators inside the building and keeps me from focusing on my tardiness for my first workday and everything that has gone wrong this morning. I'm still not entirely sure how I managed to land this internship. I applied for it at the urging of one of my teachers last fall and forgot about it completely until a few weeks ago when I received the call informing me my application was accepted. Shortly before graduation, I drove up here both to finalize paperwork. The one thing I didn't have to concern myself with was living arrangements. My best friend from college, Kate Kavanagh, planned to move to Seattle as well and her parents bought her a nice apartment. I was intimidated by both the building itself and its staff. The entire time I was here, I kept thinking there was no way I could ever fit in with all the beautiful blonde women who seemed to poised and sophisticated, and turned their noses up at my cheap clothing. I'm still having trouble believing I could actually be successful here, but this internship pays better than the others I applied for at a few small publishing houses in the area. Even though Kate won't take a dime from me for rent, there's still groceries to think about and a new wardrobe so I can at least mostly look the part at work.

I arrive on the floor where I was told to report this morning and quickly look around for my supervisor Kathy. We only met briefly when I came in to do the paperwork, but in those few minutes, I got the impression she is not someone I want to cross. Like most of the other women who work here, her blonde hair is styled without a strand out of place and she is dressed immaculately. She didn't seem nearly as judgmental as the others I met; I think she's the type to judge on ability rather than physical looks, for which I'm grateful. I spot her walking towards me and brace myself for her to tell me I've lost my internship for being late. My reasons are on the tip of my tongue, though I can't get any of them out as she reaches me.

"I'm so sorry—"

Kathy waves her hand dismissively. "Not a problem," she says, giving me a small smile. "We're just glad you're here, Ana. I'll show you to your desk and let you get settled before orientation starts."

I'm too distracted by the fact that my lateness isn't more of an issue to really take in my surroundings as Kathy leads me through a room of cubicles and stops at an empty one. "This is you," she says brightly. "Help yourself to anything in the break room and take a minute to relax. We'll be heading upstairs in about half an hour."

I smile my thanks and drop my purse on the desk that contains a phone and high-end desktop computer. Around me, a few people I assume to be fellow interns talking amongst themselves, all of them eyeing me speculatively. They're probably wondering how I got away with being this late and not even getting a stern word. Well, I'm wondering the same, but after my morning, I'm not going to question the one bit of good luck I have going for me. I pick up on parts of their conversation as they discuss the mysterious CEO who employs us. I don't really know anything about him, but if the female interns are correct, he's like some sort of unobtainable god and they all want to get their claws in them. Rolling my eyes, my thoughts drift back to Christian for the first time since I arrived. If anybody is unobtainable, particularly by me, it's him. I imagine he has women throwing themselves at him wherever he goes, all of them more beautiful and compatible for him than me.

Oh well, I muse as Kathy calls for the group of interns—ten of us altogether—to join her. It's not like I'll ever see him again.

Kathy leads the way to the elevator and we all pile inside while she explains that we're going up to the executive offices where we will be assigned departments. I'm not entirely sure what to expect from this; part of me is expecting the assignments to be handed out to everyone but me, because I don't fit in here after all and some mistake was made regarding the acceptance of my application.

"I don't remember being this nervous in my whole life," says a tall guy right around my age quietly. He's attractive in that nerdy sort of way with perfectly combed blond hair, thick black square-rim glasses, and perfectly ironed clothes.

"I haven't really had time to be nervous yet today," I say, smiling up at him. It's true; I've been more preoccupied with everything else to deal with my first real job jitters. "I'm Ana."

"Greg," he replies, holding out a hand to shake mine. When he lets go, I discreetly wipe my sweaty palm on my dress. "Any idea where you'll be assigned?"

I shake my head. "Not a clue. You?"

"I'm hoping for IT," he says, relaxing finally. "Grey's head of IT is like a living legend in the computer world."

I smile, imagining Greg would fit right in with the IT department.

We arrive on level twenty and file off into a large waiting area that's just as, if not more, impressive than the rest of the building. It's barely a minute before we're being met and greeted by yet another beautiful blonde and ushered into a large conference room not far from the elevator where we're instructed to find our name on the corresponding company welcoming packet spread in intervals around a long wooden table. The wall on right side of the door holds a table of breakfast foods, coffee, teas, and juices. Kathy tells us to help ourselves and steps outside the room to meet with a tall redheaded woman. I can't help staring for a few seconds; she's the first person I've seen here aside from interns who isn't blonde.

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I look around the table until I find my name on a packet right near the head of the table. I notice Greg's name to my left and he grins when he finds it. I smile back, wondering if I'll have to rebuff his attentions at some point. But I won't worry about that right now; so far, he's the only person who's spoken to me and he seems friendly enough. Once the crowd around the refreshments table lightens up, Greg and I stand and help ourselves. Since I burned my bagel this morning, I decide it's probably not best to tempt fate again and settle on a large muffin stuffed full with blueberries and grab a bottle of water before returning to my seat.

It's about fifteen minutes before Kathy reenters the conference room followed by the redhead and a group of people. I look between all of them, wondering which is my new employer, but none of them quite match the intensity with which the female interns were talking about his attractiveness. The redhead comes to the head of the table, smiling at everyone as they settle down.

"Good morning. Welcome to Grey Enterprises Holdings and congratulations on being accepted into our internship program. You are all among the elite few selected each year to bring new life and new views to the company and I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you. My name is Ros Bailey and I am second-in-command to Mr. Grey. I've been with the company since its beginning and as many staff members will tell you, it takes a thick skin, cunning, dedication, and determination to succeed here. This job is not for the faint at heart; though many of you are newly graduates of your respective colleges, you will not be coddled. You will be held to the highest standards expected of every employee of GEH." She pauses, looking around the table while a few people shuffle uncomfortably in their seats, clearly uncertain what it is they've gotten themselves into. I'm wondering that myself. "Rather than working yourselves into panic, be aware that help is always available should you need it. But the most important thing to know is that you are accountable for your own actions. You will become acquainted with the company rules and those rules are law and strictly enforced. So I suggest you keep your focus on your tasks, learn from your mentors, and see how far this little internship can get you."

Greg leans closer to me as Ros Bailey backs from the table and confers with a couple of men in suits. "She's not terrifying or anything," he whispers.

I stifle a smile as Ros glances our way, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly. I look over at Greg. "And I think she heard you," I whisper back.

A sound resembling a whimper comes from Greg and he slides down in his chair. I chance a glance at Ros and she grins, winking before turning away again. I'm not aware of the cause of the sudden silence in the room until Greg inhales sharply. I look up and suddenly recall my earlier thoughts regarding the impossibility of my embarrassment level growing anymore than it had; I was wrong. All eyes are locked on the open conference room door, mine included, and I don't miss the faint smirk on Christian's lips as his eyes find me. It's only when someone addresses him as Mr. Grey do I realize the person whose car I rear-ended this morning is that of Christian Grey, CEO of this company and my new boss.

Fuck.

A/N: Yes, I'm back. Whether you consider that good news or bad, clearly you were interested enough to click on the story, so I thank you for that. If you've read, please review. There will be more soon!