Reese welcomed the amber glow of the evening with a glass of 1997 Barbera d'Alba, its deep, rich aroma swirling around her senses. Christian Grey had some nerve, she thought, the taste of the wine lingering on her tongue as she headed to the living room. She plopped down on her plush couch, sinking into its soft cushions, and reached for the remote. With a press of a button, the television flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room. Reese nestled into her cozy corner, a blanket wrapped around her, and let herself be absorbed by the drama unfolding on her favorite show.
Just as she was losing herself in the lives of others, the sudden, grating sound of the doorbell jolted her back to reality. "Coming!" she called out, scrambling up from the couch, nearly tripping over Loki, causing him to hiss and dart away in annoyance.
Reese peered through the glass of the double-wrought iron doors, her heart still racing from the unexpected interruption. Seeing a familiar face, she swung the door open.
"Hey girl," Naomi greeted her with a wide grin, holding up a bottle of wine like a prized trophy.
"Naomi," Reese said, raising an eyebrow, "What are you doing here?"
"It's Saturday night, duh," Naomi said, breezing past her into the living room. "Don't tell me you forgot about girls' night again?"
"Oh, yeah. No, I remembered," Reese replied, closing the door with a sigh. She hadn't forgotten; it just slipped her mind amidst all the chaos.
"Good, because Amy and Miranda are on their way with the games and margarita mix," Naomi continued, flopping onto the couch and eyeing the television. "What are you watching?" She frowned, trying to make sense of the drama on the screen.
"Just a little reality TV," Reese chuckled, settling beside her. "Sometimes it's nice to get lost in someone else's drama and forget about my own."
"What drama do you have?" Naomi asked, her curiosity piqued as she started scrolling through Netflix.
Reese hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her blanket. "It's nothing," she mumbled.
"Okay," Naomi replied, though her tone suggested she wasn't convinced. "So, how did the showing go this morning?"
"It went okay," Reese said with a shrug. "My client seemed interested, but then..."
"But then what?" Naomi turned to face her, eyebrows raised in anticipation.
"Mr. Grey wasn't interested in selling to him."
"Oh," Naomi said, surprised. "So is he selling the house or are you?"
"I am," Reese clarified.
"Then why is he making the decision on who to sell to?"
"He's not," Reese replied, leaning back against the couch. "He just has some unique additions to the house and wants to make sure the right buyer appreciates them."
"Additions like what? The smart tech?" Naomi asked, intrigued.
Reese hesitated again, her voice dropping to a whisper. "No, not quite."
"Then what?" Naomi pressed.
Reese took a deep breath, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay, it's kind of weird to say out loud," she began, glancing at Naomi's eager expression. "But..."
"But...?" Naomi leaned in closer, eyes wide with curiosity. "C'mon, spill before the girls get here."
"Okay, okay," Reese relented, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Mr. Grey has a sex room."
"A sex room?!" Naomi exclaimed, her voice echoing through the apartment. "Was it kinky?"
"What?" Reese jumped up, shocked by the bluntness of her question.
"Well, was it?" Naomi persisted.
"I mean," Reese swallowed hard, "it was different."
"Different how?" Naomi prodded.
"It was—"
Ding! Dong!
"Oh, look at that," Reese chuckled nervously, grateful for the interruption. "The girls are here."
"Really?" Naomi laughed, heading to the door. "We'll talk about this later."
Naomi swung the door open, and a rush of laughter and chatter filled the apartment as Amy and Miranda entered, carrying bags of snacks and bottles of margarita mix. The living room instantly buzzed with the warmth of their presence. It was their Saturday night ritual—a necessary break from their hectic lives. Wine flowed, appetizers were passed around, and the air was filled with easy banter and infectious laughter.
"Okay, what's next?" Amy asked, taking a sip of her wine, her cheeks already flushed with a light rosy hue.
"Let's play Heads Up," Miranda suggested cheerfully. "Reese, you're on my team this time."
"Oh, Reese," Amy turned to her, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "How did your showing go this morning?"
"C'mon, guys," Reese sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "I thought we weren't going to talk about work tonight."
"Oh, c'mon, Reese," Naomi chimed in with a mischievous smile. "You can share this."
"Fine," Reese said through gritted teeth. "It went well, I guess. I only had one interested buyer show up."
"Oh, okay," Miranda said, nodding. "When is the marketing—"
"So, nothing out of the ordinary then?" Naomi interrupted, cutting off Miranda mid-sentence.
"Not really," Reese replied quickly, eager to change the subject. "Hey, who's up for more sliders?" she continued, standing up abruptly.
"I'd like some," Amy said, raising her hand.
"Me too," Naomi added, getting up. "Here, let me help you with that," she said, following Reese into the kitchen.
Once they were out of earshot, Reese turned to Naomi, whispering harshly, "What's wrong with you, Naomi? Why are you trying to get me to talk about Christian?"
"Because I want to know what's going on," Naomi whispered back, her eyes wide with excitement. "Christ, he has a sex room!"
"Shh, I know, okay?" Reese hissed, glancing nervously toward the living room.
MMzzz! MMzz!
"Hey, Reese, your phone," Amy called from the living room. "Want me to answer it?"
"Who is it?" Reese asked, her heart skipping a beat.
"I don't know, some random 323 number," Amy replied.
"No, no," Reese said quickly, rushing back into the living room. "I got it."
323-493-3687 Calling...
"Hello?" Reese answered, her voice a bit shaky.
"Ms. Sutherlin. How are you?" The familiar, smooth voice of Christian Grey sent a shiver down her spine.
"Oh, well, can't complain," Reese said, her eyes darting around the room as she tried to maintain her composure.
"Who is she talking to?" Miranda whispered to Amy.
"Are you busy at the moment?" Christian asked, his tone firm, almost commanding.
"I'm entertaining some guests," Reese replied, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Any of them making your pussy throb?" he teased, his voice dripping with insinuation.
"What do you want, Mr. Gr—Grady," Reese stammered, glancing around at her friends, all with their ears pricked up.
"Grady, huh?" he chuckled softly. "I wanted to apologize about my—"
"You know, Mr. Grady," Reese cut him off, her voice steady but strained, "I'm getting really tired of your passive-aggressive nature."
"Very well then, Ms. Sutherlin," he breathed roughly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I wanted to discuss the masquerade party with you. I think I know a way to tie in the bonus feature."
"Ha, bonus feature," she sneered. "Is that what you're calling it?"
"What would you call it?" he challenged.
"A freak show! I don't know anyone who would be interested," she shot back, her voice louder now.
"Naomi, do you know who she's talking to?" Amy whispered.
"I'm sure there are people interested," Christian replied smoothly. "You just have to sell the experience."
"Sell the experience, huh?" Reese scoffed. "Enlighten me."
"To be enlightened," he paused, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "you would need to experience it for yourself."
"I...I don't—" Reese faltered, feeling her resolve weaken.
"You do want to sell the house, don't you?" he interrupted, his voice like silk.
"I do," she admitted softly, almost to herself.
"How can you sell something you've never experienced?" His words lingered in her ear, making her pulse quicken.
"Chr—Mr. Grady, I have to go," she said abruptly, her voice trembling.
"Okay," he paused, the line crackling with his lingering presence. "Have a good night, Ms. Sutherlin." Click.
"Who is Mr. Grady?" Miranda asked, raising an eyebrow as the tension in the room finally broke.
"Oh, uh, he's my..." Reese stammered, searching for the right words.
"Who cares who Mr. Grady is," Naomi interjected, sensing her friend's discomfort. "Let's just play. Who's first?"
Reese felt a wave of relief wash over her as the conversation shifted back to the game. But even as she laughed and joked with her friends, her mind kept drifting back to Christian.