Chapter 10 is a whole lot of filler. Like soy. Or sawdust. And just as enticing. Ugh. Sooo when we left off in Chapter 9, our crappy couple had very nearly been caught in the act by Christian’s mother. In this chapter we get to meet aforementioned mother. Racy! Not at all tedious!
Christian insists that Ana wear his clothes to meet his mom, since Ana has no clean clothes. In the end, she just puts her gross dirty clothes back on but decides to wear Christian’s underwear. So I’m thinking, either Christian is waaayyyy skinnier that I’d thought or Ana is much, much fatter. She fits into Christian’s underwear. The author doesn’t say its way too big. Soooo, yeah.
Ana looks in the mirror, ties back her hair (has she never heard of conditioner?) and calls herself a ho for good measure. Then it’s off to meet mumsy. And to find out that Ana is the trivial psychic! Christian introduces his mom as Grace Trevelyan-Grey. But Ana immediately calls her Doctor Grey. How does she know? Did this ever come up? Do I care enough to page back and check?*
They make boring small talk until Ana’s phone rings and she wanders off to answer it. It’s Jose! Remember him? I didn’t think so. He’s called to apologise for trying to kiss Ana at the bar. Guess what Jose?
I think a love triangle is trying to be set up here, but Ana has made it clear that she has no feelings for Jose, and we haven’t seen enough of Jose to care what he thinks. So…at this point I’m not even sure what this is here for. To provide proper pacing between the sex scenes? To pad out the book so it hits the minimum word count?
Christian’s mom excuses herself and then Christian makes some more businessy-type calls. I’ll be very surprised if these are here for a reason. You know, other than to pad out the word count. I can see the letter from the mucky-mucks at Vintage now: “Great work, but needs more stuff between the sex.”
Christian finally gives Ana a copy of The Contract to mull over, and tells her to look up BDSM on the internet. Ana claims she doesn’t have a computer. She just finished university. She doesn’t have a computer. It’s 2012. She doesn’t have a computer. Have I said that already? Because Ana does not have a computer. Is she a hillbilly? Everyone in the Western world has a computer.
Then Christian drives Ana home in what I imagine is an impressively expensive car. Every car is a just a metal nausea generator to me so really I have to take that on faith. On the way, they go to a restaurant where you have to eat whatever they give you! Surprise-a-licious! And what scintillating dinner conversation! They talk about Christian’s mother. And how she thinks Christian is gay. Oh Christian! Sweetie, honey, baby. If your mom thinks you’re gay, it isn’t because she hasn’t seen you with a girl. It’s because you are gay. You just don’t know it yet. Also – his mom is a homophobe too! Nice. That’s where he gets it.
Then Christian reveals that he was ‘seduced’ by one of his mother’s friends when he was 15. He calls it seduction, Ana calls it sexual abuse. I’m assuming it’s supposed to make Christian seem more sympathetic, but really it just makes him ickier. It’s more of that hackneyed sad-broken-man-child fixed by sweet-virginal-virgin action. Heaven forbid that two relatively mentally stable, consenting equals have sex. What possible fun could that be? Everyone knows sex is more fun and more acceptable if a woman only does it to try and help her poor sad man-child! Mysogynisty-goodness!
They drive the rest of the way back home and agree to meet again Wednesday. Back at home Ana tried to tell Kate as little as possible since she signed that Non-Disclosure Agreement. She makes a mental note to look up the penalty for breaching the NDA. Where? She doesn’t have a computer. You know where she might start? In the actual contract. That she signed. Without reading. Crazy, non? The contract has a whole section devoted to what happens if you breach it. Every contract does.
To avoid giving away any more than she has to, Ana distracts Kate with supper plans. Shiny! Ana starts cooking and claims that 45 minutes later they eat her special lasagna. Special as in “three-quarters cooked frozen lasagna”? Because lasagna takes forever to assemble and at least an hour to cook. Call me skeptical here.
Ana spends her evening putting off Kate, putting off Jose, who keeps calling like a creepy stalker (apparently E. L. James thinks creepy stalkers are HAWT), and putting off reading the contract. We end off with Ana finally opening the contract. At least she plans to read this one. Will she be shocked? Titillated? Confused? Will her brain explode? Does she even have a brain? Do I even care?
You’ll have to wait for the next chapter to find out. ‘Cuz you sure ain’t gonna read it yourself.
*No. I do not.