I mentioned before, the thing about dividing your story by date is that some days not much happens. That gave us our six page chapter. But other days every-fucking-thing in the world happens and you end up with a 52 page chapter. Like this one.
So I am splitting the chapter up into two parts, because the length has been daunting me, taunting me. Laughing in my face even. I just can’t read that much Grey at once. There’s a natural divide in the text – it goes morning, break while Ana works, evening – so I’m going to divide it that way.
“Morning” isn’t super eventful, but it makes up for that by being super long and super creepy. It’s 1:45 am (technically the next day) and Ana is passed out in Christian’s bed. Christian strips off and gets into bed with Ana.
Just for sleeping you dirty perverts!
I’m not sure what kind of book you think this is, but well, it isn’t. I mean, obviously he has no choice. Where else is he going to sleep? You think this is some kind of luxury hotel with sofas right in the suites? Or that he’s some kind of ultra-rich billionaire who can just afford an extra room? Or that he could just sleep in his brother’s room because his brother went home with Kate?
None of those things are options. Obviously. So he makes the best of it by getting into bed with Ana and then starting at her like some kind of bug eyed creeper until he falls asleep.
Christian wakes at quarter to eight the next day, suuuuper late for a busy billionaire. He takes a moment to marvel at Ana as he has never allowed a woman in his bed after sex. I guess he just dumps them off some random place, clothes in hand, bang boat style. Christian consults his cock as to whether this is a good thing: Sir Cockington the Third, Esquire assures him that it is, indeed, a good thing.
Christian finds Ana some Advil brand pain reliever ™ and orange juice, leaves it on the night stand, then heads out for a run.
On his return, Christian is nonplussed to find Ana still asleep. Dude, have you checked her breathing? She could very well be dead. Oh well, a rich playboy like Christian would have no problem hiding the evidence. Anyway, that little bitch has slept enough: Christian decides to wake her up.
But first he orders room service – he can’t decide what Ana might want so he orders one of everything. This makes him feel super emo.
Christian’s first three years of desperation have taught him not to waste food ever. And the intervening TWENTY YEARS of having the best of everything didn’t help one bit.
Christian wakes Ana up and they have some stilted casual banter. Ana isn’t sure where she is at first, and is of course worried about what might have, er, happened after she passed out. Christian thinks to himself, “Keep it casual Grey. You don’t want to be charged with kidnapping.”
So he gets how creepy the whole situation is, he is just hoping to play it off like its normal.
Ana berates herself for getting drunk and having bad friends who let strange men hustle her into their cars. The whole thing kind of turns Christian on. Still he reassures Ana that they didn’t have drunken sex, so she is relieved about that at least. She is a bit squicked out that he stripped her vomitty clothes off though. And a bit squicked out that he tracked her cell phone to find her.
Yeah, dude, that *is* kinda gross.
Well! Christian never! Never! The very idea. Well, maybe he did, but it’s cute and fun when he does it.
Christian scolds Ana about drinking too much and letting Jose hit on her, and for not eating properly. You know normal topics between people who have just met. Christian imagines Ana in all sorts of bindings, trusses, and positions, and then darts off to the shower to escape. He wants to jerk off but he’s afraid that Elena will find out, so he doesn’t.
How the fuck would she find out? Seriously dude. Seriously.
Ana, grossed out by being in the same book as this space case, heads off for a million showers in bleach, while Christian waits for breakfast to arrive. Christian uses the alone time to wonder if Ana would make a good sub, and is briefly angry that she might have had sex with some other person, you know, before they met.
That little whore! Not saving herself for someone she had no idea even existed!
Christian is further pissed off when two ladies arrive from room service. They make googly cow eyes at him, as does every woman ever. His billionaire powers put everyone in his thrall. He warns them off with a “chilly smile.” Yes. Smiling is how we indicate our displeasure.
Breakfast is full of the same awkward flirting and banter we’ve grown to grudgingly tolerate. Ana bites her lip and whispers seductively. Christian lets us in on this bit of glorious TMI:
Her words travel straight to my cock.
So, you hear with it now, too? Do you have some kind of novelty penis-sized ear trumpet to keep it better informed? Do your pants have to be specially tailored for that?
We’ll never know because Christian heads off the sexy talk by telling Ana he will not touch her even once until she signs his sex contract and non-disclosure agreement. Unfortunately, the paperwork and orientation takes a whole day so no sex today!
There’s more awkward talk, about Ana’s new apartment, about her lack of employment prospects, and Christian Grey’s nebulous business factory. They make a date for that very night to hash out the contract, and Grey makes a huge production of having his personal helicopter brought out so that they can ride in it.
There’s even more awkward banter as they leave for work and then they hit the sexy magic elevator of sex. Christian announces, “Fuck the paperwork.” And then they make out like horny teens whose parents have gone away for the evening. The elevator stops and Christian compliments Ana for brushing her teeth. Basic hygiene is soooper hawt!
It’s even hawter because Ana used his toothbrush. Ha ha, she’s gross.
They stop at Ana’s apartment to pick up Elliot, and there’s lots of residual awkwardness between the four of them. Elliot hugs Ana and it makes Christian furiously angry. Healthy. Ana goes to work and Christian and Elliot head back to the hotel to await THE BIG DATE.