We rejoin Anastasia as she regains consciousness in a fancy hotel suite. Grey’s suite, to be precise. This gets us a ‘holy crap’. She’s in her t-shirt, bra, and panties. This gets us a ‘holy shit’.
Now, I’m not the type to complain about inappropriate swearing, except in cases where it’s actually inappropriate. And I’m sorry, James, but there’s just something about Anastasia’s swearing that feels…forced. And unnatural. I’m not sure how familiar you are with the internal monologues of twenty-something American women, being 49 and British, but it’s not ringing true to me.
I glance at the bedside table. On it is a glass of orange juice and two tablets. Advil. Control freak that he is, he thinks of everything (page 65).
Maybe this is just me, but I would actually consider that conscientious, and nice. Neither has anything to do with being a control freak.
Grey rolls into the room. He’s sweaty and has been working out, which earns us a ‘holy hell’.
She yells at him for tracking her down last night, which, to be fair, is a little bit stalkerish. He points out that if he hadn’t, she’d probably be waking up in Jose’s bed. And he says this ‘acidly’. Which reminds me, James is really, really fond of adverbs. Nearly everything Grey says has some adverb tacked onto it, and it’s really fucking annoying, as well as being a sign of poor writing.
Anastasia asks him if he’s going to continue to scold her. Scold. There’s another word that I have never once heard in actual conversation at any point in my life. How about ‘yell’?
Grey says that she’s lucky he’s only scolding her:
“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday.” (page 67)
Okay. So, first, we have possessiveness. If you were mine. Implying Grey owns her or has some right over her. That’s mildly concerning. Second, the implication that he’d beat her ass over this. As I recall, Anastasia’s an adult, and is perfectly capable of making her own decisions, which includes going out and having too much to drink.
Have I mentioned that Grey is kind’ve a controlling douchebag? He’s almost as bad as Edward Cullen.
They move past this unpleasantness and he smiles, which makes her forget to breathe. I wonder if this actually happens. It feels like absolute bullshit. I mean, I’ve had girls smile at me, and some of them have been very, very attractive, and while I don’t deny there’s an involuntary reaction which can involve the tightening of some muscles, an increase in heartbeat and blood pressure, I can honestly say it’s never made me actually forget to breathe. Then again, I’m not a virginal twenty-something girl, nor have I had someone as attractive as Christian Grey evidently is smile at me.
Anastasia thinks things over as Grey showers and realizes she feels safe and warm and protected by this creepy stalkerish man. Hooray!
She showers after him, and thinks about how for the first time in her life, she wants to go to bed with a man. But she’s still worried that he doesn’t actually want her. Despite all of his creepy stalkerish behavior.
I don’t understand. Does he want me? He wouldn’t kiss me last night (page 68).
You’d just thrown up everywhere. I’m not really surprised, vomit-breath.
You’ve slept in his bed all night, and he’s not touched you, Ana. (page 68).
A. You don’t know that.
B. If he didn’t that’s actually what most people would call a good thing. Having sexual relations with passed-out drunk chicks is what most people call rape.
She goes out and joins him for breakfast. Grey says he didn’t know what she liked, so he ordered a selection.
“That’s very profligate of you,” I murmur (page 71).
I consider myself to have an above-average vocabulary, so I looked up what this means. Turns out, it means that James is a poor writer with no idea how to write dialogue.
We get some pointless dialogue, then Anastasia asks if he’s celibate. He says he’s not. There’s some more dialogue that sounds like they’re trying to flirt with each other:
“I’d like to bite that lip,” he whispers darkly.
I gasp, completely unaware I am chewing my bottom lip and my mouth pops open. That has to be the sexiest thing anybody has ever said to me (page 73).
What could be sexier than biting someone’s lip? And a synonym for said modified by an adverb?
She asks him why he doesn’t. He explains he won’t touch her without written consent. This confuses her, but he invites her to dinner that night where he’ll explain everything.
He orders her to keep eating her food, because he has a thing about wasting food. Goodness. He’s so…masculine! And what is sexier than ordering women to do what you want them to do?
Anastasia brushes her teeth using Grey’s toothbrush, which makes her feel naughty. That’s romantic. Meanwhile, Grey has an important telephone call. Then they go and get in the elevator. She still feels naughty. And she bites her lip.
“Oh, fuck the paperwork,” he growls. He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he’s got both of my hands in a viselike grip above my head, and he’s pinning to the wall using his hips. Holy shit (page 78).
I agree, kind of a holy shit moment.
His other hand grabs my hair and yanks down, bring my face up, and his lips are on mine (page 78).
Ow. What the hell, dude? You are aware you don’t need to yank on people’s hair to make out with them, right?
Anyway. They kiss and their tongues stroke each other and it’s magical and shit.
His erection is against my belly (page 78).
Like I said, magical.
They break apart as the doors open and three businessmen get in who totally realize what was going on.
Grey drives them in his SUV. They listen to eclectic classical music, which I assume was a change from the original version, where they were listening to Debussy. Grey takes a few cryptic calls on his car phone, and finally gets a call from his brother Elliot, who asks him if he got laid. Grey explains that he’s on speakerphone. Shortly afterward, they go inside Anastasia’s apartment, where Kate and Elliot are waiting, having evidently made the beast with two backs.
Elliot kisses Kate goodbye and he and Grey leave. Kate asks her if she and Grey…you know, did it. Anastasia says no, but then again, she is going to Seattle with Grey that night. Kate is delighted by this and immediately starts slutting Anastasia up.
That night, Grey and his chauffeur pick Anastasia up and they exchange pleasantries. Turns out he went hiking with Elliot that day. And, I’m sure, caught a cougar and drank its blood so he could stand being around Anastasia’s luscious scent without accidentally killing her, because he’s a vampire.
They arrive at the helipad, board a helicopter, and Grey starts powering it up. Wow. Incredibly sexy billionaire playboy philanthropist and a licensed helicopter pilot. I bet he’s even good in bed!
As they fly, Anastasia thinks about sex, and making out with him, and sex. Eventually they land on the roof of his skyscraper and head inside to a living area. There’s a piano there. Hmmm. I wonder if Grey plays the piano? [A page later, Anastasia asks him, and surprise! He does]
Grey pours a couple glasses of wine, there’s some boring conversation, and eventually he brings out a nondisclosure agreement. Apparently his lawyer insists on it. She signs it without reading. This concerns Grey, who points out she should read anything she signs, but Anastasia explains that she wouldn’t talk about them anyway. Great. You’re still a fucking idiot.
Anastasia asks him if this means he’s going to make love to her tonight.
“No, Anastasia, it doesn’t. First, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard. Second, there’s a lot more paperwork to do. And third, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills.” (page 96).
I know I want to.
Grey says he wants to show her his playroom. So they head down a corridor and he unlocks a door and he reminds me her that she can leave anytime, via helicopter, and she’s under no pressure to stay. Which is momentarily encouraging. Then he opens the door.
And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.
Holy fuck (page 97).
Because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition…to be that hot.