I'm so sorry it's been so long since the last update! Between my own books, my small business, my daughter going back to school, ballet, the holidays, my first book signing, and everything else, I've barely had time to breath. I thought I had updated more recently than I have! Here's a new chapter, and I promise to have chapter 16 up within two weeks. You can old me to that! At some point, I'll go back and correct some minor spelling and word errors I've spotted. Remember I just write straight through, then publish to this site. It's all raw, unedited, totally raw. I just don't have the time to polish up spite-fic.

Anyone joining me in dreading Valentine's Day?

Morning sunlight is brightening my room. My eyes sting, and my head aches. I'm so tired I can hardly stand it. I glance at the clock. It's already 9:30am. Where the hell is Liz? She was nowhere to be found when I got home, and is still gone.

My hand gropes my bedspread until my fingers land on my phone. I start to dial again. Right as my thumb goes to close in on the "call" button, the door to our wing opens. I dart up and teary trip getting to the living room. I don't stop running until I have her crushed a hug.

Her arms close around me. "What's wrong, Jase?"

"How can you tell?" I don't like the rasp in my voice, but I'm too worried to care much. "Where were you all night?"

Liz steps back just enough to stare up at me. Gently, she takes my face in her soft hands, and rubs one of her thumbs over my cheek. "Because you look worried. I've been here all night. I heard you come in, but was in Grey's rooms doing some clean-up, trying to stay out of sight. I fell asleep in his living room."

"So they're here?"

"Yes."

"Come here." I press against her lower back, and guide her into my bedroom. I'm sure that, my room at least, is bug-free right now. She doesn't hesitate, but she does frown. I close the door behind us, and turn around to face her, and quickly decide to just spit it out. "I had a talk with Welsh last night. Grey ordered us both tailed."

Her lovely face pales, and she crosses her arms in front of her. "What?" she whispers. "Why?"

"He wants to know if we're together."

"But…" Liz shakes her head, and looks down. I step forward and hug her again, careful this time not to use enough pressure to break her ribs. All I want to do is protect her.

"I told him–" The main doorbell rings. Shit! "I'll take care of it," I tell her, and quickly kiss somewhere on her head. I run as fast as I can toward the main door, hoping the boss wasn't disturbed, and hoping I don't look too disheveled. I stop in front of it, tighten my tie back up, and swing it open.

"Taylor," the woman says with a warm smile. Her hand smoothes part of her tan dress. "Is my son home?"

I know Grey's not going to want to deal with this. "He is, but he's not up yet."

Mrs. Trevelyan-Grey pushes past me and walks into the living room as if she owns the place. She turns in a circle, as if she's making sure he's not there. She raises an eyebrow at me, and starts toward his room.

"Mrs. Grey," I plead, "I will have him call you later."

"But if he's still in bed, then he must be ill. He's never in bed this late. Christian never sleeps in."

Ill is right, but not in the way she's thinking. I'm not sure if her son wants his mommy to know he's not a pure little virginal boy. "Mrs. Grey, please."

"Taylor," she snaps, "you cannot keep me from my son."

She reaches to the handle, and I'm pushed. I reach out and block her hand. "Mrs. Grey, he's not alone."

Her eyes widen. "What do you mean, 'he's not alone'?"

I cock my head back down the hall, and start back. "He has someone with him."

"Oh."

I can't tell if she believes me or not, but there's nothing I can do about that. There isn't really any reason to believe it. It's not like Grey, a man attractive by all American standards, is never seen with a date at all. No indication from the outside that he's even into relationships of any sort.

"Who is the person?" A light in her eyes reminds me of someone needing a social life that includes activities aside from keeping track of who's screwing whom.

What the hell so I say? That she's some ingenue who probably didn't know what a blow job was until a week ago, and who's probably now versed in butt plugs? That she was in an alternative college track that was hidden from her so she wouldn't "feel bad"? I'll leave it to the boss. "Her name's Anastasia Steele."

"A woman!" Well, I may as well have told her I discovered there for never aging. She nearly jumped. "So my son's not gay! Oh, there is indeed a God and he is very good!"

There's nothing I'm going to say to that. Nothing I can say that won't get me fired. So no further words are exchanged between us, just an uncomfortable silence. I sigh quietly and stare down, trying to figure out what to do since she's clearly not about to leave.

Someone's plodding down the hallway toward us, and I know who without looking back up. I now she hears it too, even though I'm not raising my head. I back up as fast as I can to get the hell away. If there's any bigoted talk, I don't want to be there, and so light jog to my office and hit a couple switches.

Two monitors turn on, and I stare at the clear footage. Why the hell convenience stores all use grainy video is beyond me. A hand slips over my shoulder, and I curse myself for forgetting to close the door behind me. Liz's touch is welcome.

"Good lord," she murmurs while watching one of the screens. "I guess he really wants his mother to know he's a big boy now."

I can't disagree. Ana looks like she threw on something from off the floor. I know she had. But her hair really gives it away, and some smeared makeup. I turn up to take in Liz's face, her professionally-composed, perfect face. I realize only now that she was a hot-mess when I saw her just a short while ago, and now her hair is sleek and her own makeup flawless. Damn, she's fast.

My phone buzzes, and I quickly check it. I groan. "Something's up with a load to Darfur. I'll bet Grey's going to love having another chance to play White Savior."

"That man wouldn't know charity if it was a woman willing to bend over."

"I know. I've got to go let him know though." I get to my tired feet, peck her lips softly, and move toward the door. "Lock the door when you leave, Liz. We'll talk later."

I get back out to them just in time to see Ana and the monster's mom shaking hands. Good. I think she's leaving. "Mrs. Grey?"

"Thank you, Taylor." I get the distinct feeling she's thanking me for letting her know her worst nightmare wasn't true. Her pweshis wittle son isn't a gay guy.

I nod, and hold the door open for her. We still say nothing, at least until the elevator door slides open.

"Let me know anything good," she whispers, and slips some bills into my coat pocket. She winks, and steps into the elevator. In a moment, she's gone.

Well, back to business, and to find some coffee. Grey and his victim are still at the kitchen bar. "Mr. Grey, there's an issue with he Darfur shipment," I tell him, struggling to sound light and fully awake.

Boss gives me one sharp nod. "Charlie Tango back at Boeing Field?"

Um…I think so. Joe's guy would be reliable. "Yes, Sir." I nod toward Ana. Poor kid looks a little lost and uncomfortable. "Miss Steele." Nothing more I can say. I need something to wake me up, and that's probably going to be in my own kitchen, so that's where I'm going.

"Does he live here? Taylor?" I hear Ana asked behind me.

"Yes," the boss answers, almost snappishly.

Jesus Christ, give her a break, man.

I pause by the door to my wing, and drop my forehead against the wall. Sleep. All I want is some sleep. Maybe I get a wink or two. I don't know. I don't know anything clearly. The hangover's starting to hit.

"Taylor," the boss says.

I pull my head away from the wall. "Sorry, Sir, I'm just really tired. What can I do for you?"

He extends his hand. "Thanks for handling my mother."

Is this a joke? He's being courteous, and there's no humor on his face. I take it, and shake. "I wasn't sure what to. Glad I handled it to your satisfaction."

"Good job. Please ask Mrs. Jones to prepare an overnight bag. I need to take Ana back home." Got too much shit to deal with today. Can't deal with her too."

Great. She's now a problem to him. Maybe he'll dump her and she'll be safe and free. I wait until he's out of sight, then open the door. I don't go in. The smell of coffee tempts me though. Leave it to my wonderful girlfriend to do that. "Liz," I call out, "Boss needs an overnight bag. I'll be in their kitchen."

The quicker we can get them out of here, the better. I wait, and wait, watching Liz bustle between the laundry room and Grey's room, and finally drop a bag near the door. She comes to me, and stands beside me, waiting with me. Oh, she decides to be mean, and slides a hand over my crotch. My brain and body may be about to drop, but the guy downstairs wants to play. I've got to be in control, at least until after we discuss the tails out on us.

Grey and Ana finally join us. Ten bucks says they squeezed in a quickie or two. Damned rabbits.

"Tomorrow then," he nods at me.

"Yes, Sir." I know I'll receive further instructions later. "Which car are you taking, Sir?"

He raises his nose to look down at me. "The R8."

"Safe trip, Mr. Grey." I head toward the door, preparing to open it. "Miss Steele." I stare at her with pity. If he's letting her in his favorite car, she's claimed, and claimed hard.

No sooner are they at the elevator, and Liz pushes the door closed and drags me back to our wing. "I'll get you some coffee, and then you need to tell me what's going on."