"With Moby blasting in my ears I run down Southwest Salmon Street..."
Wait wait wait. Moby? MOBY??? You want me to believe that a 28 year old billionaire is listening to an artist who's last point of relevance was winning Best Album Title at IFPI Platinum European Awards in fucking 2003?? Really????? What even are the IFPI Platinum European Awards? His last award at an American awards show (you know, where Christian Grey fucking LIVES) was the year before, in 2002 at the Billboard Music Awards. This is literally the first sentence in this chapter, Ms. James, and you've 100% lost me. Any disbelief I had willingly suspended (because let's be honest, you sort of have to), is back with a vengeance and it's all because you had to reach into the deepest archives of musical has-beens to find something that will make Christian sound "interesting" and "eclectic" and "mysterious". Why do you even need to specify what he's listening to? It doesn't add anything to his character (if anything it makes me hate him more so congrats on that fucking accomplishment). Why can't you just say that he has music blasting in his ears? It would have been just as, if not more, effective, because I wouldn't be having a bitch fit about it before moving on to the rest of your vapid novel. Fuck you.
Wow, okay. Now that I've gotten that out of my system, we can move on to the remainder of the chapter. It starts out reading like a diary entry, with Christian detailing his run, including his consideration of taking Ana on a non-date for coffee. By the time he gets back to his hotel, he is, in his words, "famished", which "[is] not a feeling [he] tolerate[s] - ever." He's so melodramatic about breakfast.
It's photoshoot time (he's gonna be in the college newspaper - the sole reason he and Ana even met) and he walks into the room and obviously sees Ana immediately.
"She's wearing tight jeans and chucks with a short-sleeved navy jacket and a white T-shirt beneath. Are jeans and chucks her signature look? While not very convenient, they do flatter her shapely legs."
As he's being photographed, he catches eyes with Ana - obviously.
"But then she bites her lip and my breath catches in my throat. Back down, Anastasia. I will her to stop staring, and as if she can hear me, she's the first to look away. Good girl."
It really doesn't take much.
After the photoshoot, Christian privately asks Ana to have coffee with him - totally a non-date guys, really - and her face, again, reacts erratically.
"I ask Ana to join me for coffee, my breath held for her response. Her long lashes flicker over her eyes."
Sorry, couldn't help it.
But good news, she says yes!
"My relief is tangible and I grin. I have a date!" -- okay I guess this was a date. but he totally said 2 pages ago that it wasn't going to be a date ("Maybe I should take her for coffee. Like a date? Well. No. Not a date. I laugh at the ridiculous thought.") -- see? I told you.
They take the elevator down, and Christian is once again, surprised by the way Ana's (and most humans'?????) body functions.
"I'm relieved when the doors open again and I take her hand, which is cool and not clammy as expected. Perhaps I don't affect her as much as I'd like. The thought is disheartening."
-- she's attracted to you, Christian - she doesn't have the flu. although, maybe uncomfortable and sick is how you're used to women reacting to you....
Christian's inner monologue is horrifying. Genuinely and truly horrifying. To those who know me, think Jesse Garon's descriptive prowess. It hurts, and I may not ever look at a blueberry muffin the same way after reading this excerpt.
"She eyes the blueberry muffin as I peel back the paper, and for a moment I imagine her on her knees beside me as I feed her, a morsel at a time. The thought is diverting - and arousing."
So arousing in fact, that in the following pages, he manages to consider inviting her on a trip to both Cabo and Paris.
"Her eyes widen. They really are beautiful, the color of the ocean at Cabo, the bluest of blues. I should take her there."
"'I've never left mainland USA.' The cadence in her voice falls, tinged with regret. I could take her there." Yeah, yeah we know you're rich and all that but are you actually talking about taking her there to enjoy herself or are you working up some elaborate plan to kidnap her and have her buried in the Paris Catacombs? These are the real questions.
They finish up their insanely awkward half-date and Christian offers to walk her back to her car. Just as he's having an actual human moment ("I can't shake how agreeable her hand feels in mine. Maybe this could work."), the illusion is shattered. When Ana tells him she mostly wears jeans (because jeans are common staple pieces of clothing that require very little maintenance and are in general wonderful things???????), Christian gets extra creepy.
"...and it's two strikes against her: incurable romantic who only wears jeans . . . I like my women in skirts. I like them accessible."
And finally, in a totally expected and not at all surprising series of events, Christian manages to lead Ana on and crush her poor fragile heart, all in a matter of a page and a half. She wants romance and we all know Christian is soulless and can never give that to her, even if he's thinking weird things about holding her hand and getting jealous that she may or may not have a boyfriend. When we leave them Ana is furious with Christian for I don't really know what, but something bad enough that she storms off without giving him a second look. She's very complicated.
"She turns away and strides up the street towrd the underground garage. I watch her go, hoping that she'll give me a second look, but she doesn't. She disappears into the building, leaving in her wake a trace of regret, the memory of her beautiful blue eyes, and the scent of an apple orchard in the fall."
Unfortunately, there is no "baby" count to report this chapter. Do not fret though - we start emailing in the next chapter, and "Laters, baby" becomes a thing, so. You all have that to look forward to.
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