Hi guys, Sorry I've been slow updating. Just started a new J.O.B so been very busy but I've got a few chapters ready to go so hoping to have atleast 3 up by this weekend. Enjoy and thanks for the reviews.. keeps me motivated! Any way enjoy...muchos love. xXx
50 Shades Of Davies – Chapter 2 Part 1
My heart is pounding. The elevator arrives on the first floor, and I scramble out as soon as the doors slide open, stumbling once, but fortunately not sprawling on to the immaculate sandstone floor. I race for the wide glass doors, and I'm free in the hot air of L.A. Raising my face, I welcome the dry air. I close my eyes and take a deep, purifying breath, trying to recover what's left of my equilibrium.
No woman has ever affected me the way Ashley Davies has, and I cannot fathom why. Is it her looks? Her civility? Wealth? Power? I don't understand my irrational reaction. I breathe an enormous sigh of relief. What in heaven's name was that all about? Leaning against one of the steel pillars of the building, I valiantly attempt to calm down and gather my thoughts. I shake my head. Holy crap – what was that? My heart steadies to its regular rhythm, and I can breath normally again. I head for the car.
As I leave the city limits behind, I begin to feel foolish and embarrassed as I replay the interview in my mind. Surely, I'm overreacting to something that's imaginary. Okay, so she's very attractive, confident, commanding, at ease with herself – but on the flip side, she's arrogant, and for all her impeccable manners, she's autocratic and cold. Well, on the surface. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. She may be arrogant, but then she has a right to be – she's accomplished so much at such a young age. She doesn't suffer fools gladly, but why should she? Again, I'm irritated that Maddy didn't give me a brief biography.
While cruising along the I-5, my mind continues to wander. I'm truly perplexed as to what makes someone so driving to succeed. Some of her answers were so cryptic – as if she has a hidden agenda. And Maddy's questions – ugh! The adoption and asking her if she was gay! I shudder. I can't believe I said that. Ground, swallow me up now! Every time I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment. Damn Madison Duarte!
I check the speedometer. I'm driving more cautiously that I would on any other occasion. And I know it's the memory of two penetrating brown eyes gasing at me, and a stern voice telling me to drive carefully. Shaking my head, I realise that Davies's more like a woman double her age.
Forget it, Spencer, I scold myself. I decide that all in all, it's been a very interesting experience, but I shouldn't dwell on it. Put it behind you. I never had to see her again. I'm immediately cheered by the thought. I switch on the MP3 player and turn the volume up loud, sit back and listen to thumping indie rock music as I press down on the accelerator. As I hit the I-5, I realize I can drive as fast as I want.
We live in a small community of duplex apartments in San Francisco, close to the campus of SFU. I'm lucky – Maddy's parents bought the place for her, and I pay peanuts for rent. It's been home for four years now. As I pull up outside, I know Maddy is going to want a blow-by-blow account, and she is tenacious. Well, at least she has the mini-disc. Hopefully I won't have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview.
"Spencer! You're back." Maddy sits in our living areas, surrounded by books. She's clearly been studying for finals – though she's still in her pink flannel pyjamas decorated with cute little rabbits, the ones she reserves for the aftermath of breaking up with boyfriends, for assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression. She bounds up to me and hugs me hard.
"I was beginning to worry. I expected you back sooner."
"Oh, I thought I made good time considering the interview ran over." I wave the mini-disc recorder at her.
"Spencer, thank you so much for doing this. I owe you, I know. How was it? What was she like?" oh no – here we go, the Madison Duarte Inquisition.
I struggle to answer her question. What can I say?
"I'm glad it's over, and I don't have to see her again. She was rather intimidating, you know." I Shrug. "She's very focused, intense even – and young. Really young."
Maddy gazes innocently at me. I frown at her.
"Don't you look so innocent. Why didn't you give me a biography? She made me feel like such an idiot for skimping on basic research." Maddy clamps a hand to her mouth.
"Jeeze, Spence, I'm sorry – I didn't think."
I huff.
"Mostly she was courteous, formal, and slightly stuffy – like she's old before her time. She doesn't talk like a woman of twenty-something. How old is she anyway?"
"Twenty-Seven. Jeez, Spence, I'm sorry. I should have briefed you, bit I was in such a panic. Let me have the mini-disc, and I'll start transcribing the interview."
"You look better. Did you eat your soup?" I ask, keen to change the subject.
"Yes, and it was delicious as usual. I'm feeling much better." She smiles at me in gratitude. I check my watch.
"I have to run. I can still make my shift at Clayton's"
"Spencer, you'll be exhausted."
"I'll be fine. I'll see you later."
I've worked at Clayton's since I started at SFU. It's the largest independent hardware store in the San Fran area, and over the four years I've worked here, I've come to know a little bit about most everything we sell – although ironically, I'm crap at any DIY. I leave all that to my dad. I'm much more of a curl-up-with-a-book-in-a-comfy-chair-by-the-fire kind of girl. I'm glad I can make my shift as it gives me something to focus on that isn't Ashley Davies. We're busy – it's the start of the summer season, and folks are redecorating their homes. Mrs Clayton is pleased to see me.
"Spencer! I thought you weren't going to make it today."
"My appointment didn't take as long as I thought. I can do a couple of hours."
"I'm real pleased to see you." She sends me to the storeroom to start restocking shelves, and I'm soon absorbed in the task.
When I arrive home later, Madison is wearing headphones and working on her laptop. Her nose is still pink, but she has her teeth into a story, so she's concentrating and typing furiously. I'm thoroughly drained – exhausted by the long drive, the gruelling interview, and by being rushed off my feet at Clayton's. I slump on to the couch, thinking about the essay I have to finish and all the studying I haven't done today because I was holed up with….her.
"You've got some good stuff here, Spence. Well don. I can't believe you didn't take her up on her offer to show you around. She obviously wanted to spend more time with you." She give me a fleeting quizzical look.
I flush, and my heart rate inexplicably increases. That wasn't the reason, surely? She just wanted to show me around so I could see that she was lady of all she surveyed. I realise I'm biting my lip, and I hope Mady doesn't notice. But she seems absorbed in her transcription.
"I hear what you mean about formal. Did you take any notes?" She asks.
"Um..no, I didn't"
"That's fine. I can still make a fine article with this. Shame we don't have some original stills. Gorgeous bitch isn't she?"
I flush.