Fifty Shades of Grey(81)

"He made a pass at me on Friday."

"JoseAnd Christian GreyAna, your pheromones must be working overtime. What was the stupid fool thinking?" She shakes her head in disgust and returns to packing crates.

Forty-five minutes later, we pause our packing for the house specialty, my lasagna.

Kate opens a bottle of wine, and we sit amongst the boxes eating, quaffing cheap red wine, and watching crap TV. This is normality. It's so grounding and welcome after the last forty-eight hours of... madness. I eat my first unhurried, no nagging, peaceful meal in that time. What is it about him and food Kate clears the dishes, and I finish packing up the living room. We are left with the couch, the TV, and the dining table. What more could we needJust the kitchen and our bedrooms left to pack up, and we have the rest of the week. Result!

The phone rings again. It's Elliot. Kate winks at me and skips off to her bedroom like she's fourteen. I know that she should be writing her Valedictorian speech, but it seems Elliot is more important. What is it about the Grey menWhat is it that makes them totally distracting, all-consuming, and irresistibleI take another slug of wine.

I flick through the TV channels, but deep down I know I'm procrastinating. Burning a bright red hole in the side of my purse is that contract. Do I have the strength and the wherewithal to read it tonight?

I put my head in my hands. Jose and Christian, they both want something from me.

Jose is easy to deal with. But Christian... Christian takes a whole different league of handling, of understanding. Part of me wants to run and hide. What am I going to doHis burning gray eyes and that intense smoldering stare come into my mind's eye, and my body tightens at the thought. I gasp. He's not even here, and I'm turned on. It just can't be about sex, can itI recall his gentle banter this morning at breakfast, his joy at my delight with the helicopter ride, him playing the piano - the sweet soulful oh-so-sad music.

He's such a complicated person. And now I have an insight as to why. A young man deprived of his adolescence, sexually abused by some evil Mrs. Robinson figure... no wonder he's old before his time. My heart fills with sadness at the thought of what he must have been through. I'm too na?ve to know exactly what, but the research should shed some light. But do I really want to knowDo I want to explore this world I know nothing about?

It's such a big step.

If I'd not met him, I'd still be sweetly and blissfully oblivious. My mind drifts to last night, and this morning... and the incredible, sensual sexuality I've experienced. Do I want to say goodbye to thatNo! Screams my subconscious... my inner goddess nods in silent zen-like agreement with her.

Kate wanders back into the living room, grinning from ear to ear. Perhaps she's in love - I gape at her. She's never behaved like this.

"Ana, I'm off to bed. I'm pretty tired."

"Me too, Kate."

She hugs me.

"I'm glad you're back in one piece. There's something about Christian," she adds quietly, apologetically. I give her a small, reassuring smile - all the while thinking... How the hell does she know This is what will make her a great journalist, her unfaltering intuition.

Collecting my purse, I wander listlessly into my bedroom. I am weary from all our carnal exertions of the last day and from the complete and utter dilemma that I'm faced with. I sit on my bed and gingerly extract the manila envelope from the bag, turning it over and over in my hands. Do I really want to know the extent of Christian's depravityIt's so daunting. I take a deep breath, and with my heart in my throat, I rip open the envelope.

There are several papers inside the envelope. I fish them out, my heart still pounding, and I sit back on my bed and begin to read.