Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

graduated last year. I wonder briefly if I’ll see him before they go on vacation. He’s such a lovely guy. The phone rings, jolting me from my reverie.
    “That’ll be José.”
    I sigh. I know I have to talk to him. I grab the phone.
    “Hi.”
    “Ana, you’re back!” José shouts his relief at me.
    “Obviously.” Sarcasm drips from my voice, and I roll my eyes at the phone.
    He’s silent for a moment.
    “Can I see you? I’m sorry about Friday night. I was drunk… and you… well. Ana – please forgive me.”
    “Of course, I forgive you José. Just don’t do it again. You know I don’t feel like that about you.”
    He sighs heavily, sadly.
    “I know, Ana. I just thought, if I kissed you, it might change how you feel.”
    “José, I love you dearly, you mean so much to me. You’re like the brother I never had. That’s not going to change. You know that.” I hate to let him down, but it’s the truth.
    “So you’re with him now?” His tone is full of disdain.
    “José, I’m not with anybody.”
    “But you spent the night with him.”
    “That’s none of your business!”
    “Is it the money?”
    “José! How dare you!” I shout, staggered by his audacity.
    “Ana,” he whines and apologizes simultaneously. I cannot deal with his petty jealousy now. I know he’s hurt, but my plate is overflowing dealing with Christian Grey.
    “Maybe we can have a coffee or something tomorrow. I’ll call you.” I am conciliatory. He is my friend, and I’m very fond of him. But right now, I don’t need this.
    “Tomorrow, then. You’ll call?” The hope in his voice twists my heart.
    “Yes… goodnight, José.” I hang up, not waiting for his response.
    “What was that all about?” Katherine demands, her hands on her hips. I decide honesty is the policy. She’s looking more intractable than ever.
    “He made a pass at me on Friday.”
    “José? And Christian Grey? Ana, 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 need? Just 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 men? What is it that makes them totally distracting, all-consuming and irresistible? I 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. José and Christian, they both want something from me. José 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 do? His 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 it? I 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 naïve to know exactly what, but the research should shed some light. But do I really want to know? Do 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,