NOTE FROM RIOTTORI: HEY GUYS. HERE'S THE FRUIT OF MY MORNING'S LABOR. HOPE THAT SOME OF YOUR QUESTIONS ARE ANSWERED. ENJOY. SOMEONE SAID THAT I WAS SURPRISED BY YOUR LEVEL OF DISLIKE OF ALICE. NOT AT ALL, IT IS TOTALLY UNDERSTANDABLE. SHE'S TRYING TO BREAK UP A MARRIAGE AFTER ALL. SADLY, THERE ARE WOMEN OUT THERE LIKE THAT THOUGH.
ALICE:
I'm getting ready to make my move. My skin tingles with anticipation, nerves shoot through me like fireworks. I twist my hair up to expose my neck, pull a tendril down that I can play with later, wrap around my finger, or push behind my ear in that way that makes him catch his breath. The simple dark-blue wrap dress hangs to me like a second skin, flattering the lines of my body. I'll have no problem catching my king tonight. I just need him to see me.
I practice my sad little smile that I have perfected for Christian, my resigned face. It says, I feel sorry for your wife but I cannot fight this. My eyes fill with emotion but I have to work to keep the anger out. No Alice should poke through yet. Tonight, I had to be Mrs Grey.
It is imperative that we meet tonight. I saw them outside a different doctor's office today, not that Flynn guy's. When they went in, I looked at the small brass sign: Dr Black. They're trying to make things work and I cannot let that happen. I would let them destroy themselves in each session, chip away a little bit more trust with each painful hour, but I also had to remind Christian of what he could have.
She looked like she'd been crying when they emerged to face the remains of the grey day. He put an arm around her but she pulled back slightly. I smiled at that. She was only helping my cause. They left in different cars.
He's staying back at Escala. I tell the cab driver to take me there and watch his admiring nod. Escala equals money equals power. I tell him my boyfriend lives there and he nods again. I sit back and enjoy the ride.
I get out, tip the driver – soon money would no longer be an issue – and head for the foyer. The discreet doorman nods at me, he's seen me enough times to recognize me. This grants me admittance to the foyer but I still need to get to the Penthouse and that requires a key.
I take my cell out and rehearse in my mind what I have planned to say. I want to sound like I need him, but not too desperate. Lost but not mad. I dial Christian's number and wait. He doesn't pick up and my call goes to voice-mail. Fuck! I had not banked on that. I repress my growing annoyance – there's nothing worse than multiple missed-calls from an ex.
I try once more. No answer. Fuck! I'm about to walk over to the receptionist when I feel the buzz of my phone against my palm. I take a deep breath and answer it.
"Christian?" I whisper.
"Alice." He sounds a little cold, a little distant. I take another breath.
"How are you?"
He gives an angry, gruff laugh in response. It unnerves me.
"Can..I...see...you?" Each word is punctuated by the beating of my heart.
He releases a long breath which seems to last for minutes. I close my eyes and wait for the reply. Please, please. I just need one more shot.
"No, Alice. I don't think that's a good idea."
"Please, Christian. I need to see you. I...I... miss you." I hope my words have an impact, reach him.
"Alice, I'm sorry. It's over." Fuck!
I am fighting back anger, fighting down my desperation. I cannot believe this opportunity is being taken from me. I unleash the weapon I have been wielding, the one I was hoping I could use when I saw him. I need it to work. Now.
"I'm downstairs, in Escala. I'm ready to sign the contract, Sir." I pronounce each word, carefully, banish emotion from my voice.
Silence on the phone. My heart beat counts out the seconds.
"No, Alice. I'm sorry. I want to be with my wife. Sorry."
Rage, pure white-hot rage. I try to swallow it down but it surges up.
"AND WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE ME?"
The words echo around the lobby but I don't care. I'm making a scene but I do not care.
His reply is the click as he terminates the call.
I call back immediately, punch in the numbers, feel the full force of my rage. I am almost blind with it. All I get is a woman's voice telling me the number is currently unavailable. She mocks me with each word.
Christian:
Ana doesn't want to meet me on the evenings that we have been Mr and Mrs Grey, the couple going through therapy. She says she wants to reflect on the things we have talked about, the issues thrown up in that hour. Today was particularly painful. It was our first meeting with Dr Black. I can't say I like the woman, but Ana wanted to see her. We unearthed some Alice truths today. She knows of the initial attraction, and the first kiss. We've only just begun and yet the hour left us drained. I knew this wouldn't be easy but I didn't expect to feel so grainy, so grey afterwards. What's worse is knowing that I've hurt Ana so badly, and in these sessions I hurt her some more. Black says this we must reach a nadir, strip everything back to the base and then rebuild. I like Ana's analogy better – we are a Phoenix trying to rise again.
I'm thinking about this in the ex-Red Room, looking up at the night sky through the sky-light when my cell rings. It's the cell I used for the Subs. I forgot that it was still on and surprised that the battery hadn't died. I hear it softly calling to me and I make my way through the apartment to the office where I keep it.
It rings off but I'm curious to see who it is. I find it on the desk and as I reach for it, it rings again – an insipid ring tone like an old-fashioned telephone. A neutral sound jarring with the significance of the calls I used to receive.
The name flashes up: Alice. She has interrupted my peace and I have let her. What does she want? I told her not to contact me. I note the surge of anger that reading her name invokes. The phone goes quiet in my hand.
I need to finish this – not just for Ana but to prove to myself that I can, that I can let 'Old Christian' go. I call her back.
She sounds breathless, a little needy. I like her better when she is bold. I say her name, try to keep the annoyance out but fail. She asks me how I am. The banality of it makes me laugh. How am I? Trying to stay alive.
She's asking if she can see me. No, I can't see her. It may weaken my resolve, having the ghost of my estranged wife in the same room as me.
I tell her it's not a good idea. She starts to plead with me, she tells me she misses me. Her confession makes me feel weary, drained. This is someone else I am hurting. I have to be strong and tell her it's over. In my quest to find an Ana replacement, I was losing the original, the One. I had been so stupid, and I was paying for it now, punished daily.
I tell her it's over. I say the words for both her and for me to hear. It's over. That way of life is over. There is no more Red Room to go back to.
I wait for her reaction. She says she's downstairs. Shit! I didn't expect that. She says she wants to sign the contract. She calls me Sir. I swallow, hard. She sounds calm and controlled on the surface but I hear the bargaining, the plea that lies underneath.
It's all I'd wanted for weeks, Alice Thomas' neat little signature on the newly drawn-up contract. It would give me carte blanche to touch her, do all the things I wanted, all the things I'd missed. I wanted to kiss her in The Red Room – I hadn't kissed anyone in there besides Ana. I would let her touch me, too. I craved it, thought about it, imagined her little pink fingertips trailing my scars. I knew I would extend her contract, that three months wouldn't be enough. I lay awake at night, dreaming of making Alice mine.
But now I don't want it anymore. The very thought now makes me sick. I must be sick if what I wanted so badly would hurt my Ana so much. I'm filled with self-loathing at my sadistic ways. She's the only girl who should touch me – she gave me the gift of intimacy and I wanted to give it to someone else?
In the beat of a heart, I realized we had so much more to talk to Black about. In that instant, I was sure that we would rise from the ashes.
"No, Alice. I'm sorry. I want to be with my wife. Sorry." I'm sorry if I am hurting her, but my wife comes first.
She's shouting at me, asking where this leaves her. I don't have an answer. I hang-up, turn off the phone forever and call my wife at home.