Previously, The Mister had something resembling a plot, but then the main characters ran away from it and just fucked for eight chapters.
Oh, right, and Alessia revealed that she can never return to Albania because she’s betrothed, which is close enough to my prediction. Although “prediction” is probably admittedly too generous a word to use to describe any part of reading an E.L. James novel.
The Mister: Chapter 18
Maxim instantly starts freaking out that “I have a rival” and goes through a wild emotional roller coaster entirely in his head before she clarifies that she doesn’t love that guy. This isn’t anything new if you’ve already read any of the five versions of Fifty Shades of Grey, though, so I’d argue the real highlight is Maxim’s weirdly clinical-ish gut reaction to the surprise:
My chest constricts as if I’ve been kicked in the solar plexus.
Specific!
What medieval claptrap is this?
Good question, milord.
My world has shifted. My ideas. My vague plans. Being with her…marrying her…
I feel like following up the statement “My world has shifted” with “My vague plans” kind of undercuts the former sentiment just a little bit.
But overall, it’s a passage where Maxim mostly just continues to look like a self-focused moron, narrating his whirlwind thoughts about how Alessia must love someone else, even though every time he stops to actually describe Alessia in this moment, Alessia deadass just looks “distress[ed]” or in “pain” or can’t even make eye contact. Then there’s a passage where he raises his hand to “sweep my hair aside” and Alessia recoils, scaring Maxim into thinking he made Alessia think he was going to hit her. All around, it’s not a great look.
And then even after Alessia clarifies (in shock – as though she’s actually canonically surprised Maxim is reading the room this badly) that she doesn’t love or want to marry the guy in Albania, he still Doesn’t Get It:
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m just shocked that somewhere out there you have a…suitor, and I have a rival for your affections.”
She blinks rapidly, and her face softens as a rosy tinge marks her cheeks.
“You have no rivals,” she whispers.
I’m sure this is supposed to read as a tender moment of affirmation, but it’s hard not to read as though Alessia is stunned that Maxim is this stupid.
Alessia beats this idea over Maxim’s head explains that she can’t go back to Albania because she dishonored her father, and would be forced into marriage. Maxim processes Alessia’s complicated life.
“I’m sorry that you’ve had to put up with so much shit,” I murmur. Looking up at me, she brushes her index finger over my lips. “That is a bad word.”
This just doesn’t feel consistent even with Alessia’s twee cutesy bullshit character. She’s just confessed her greatest confession, reason for fleeing her homeland, the trauma of cutting ties with her family… I just don’t buy that anyone in this situation would really pause the proceedings to be the profanity narc?
They dance a bit. E.L. James panders to the wine mom demographic.
“Come to bed,” I whisper, my voice low.
“I have to wash the dishes.”
What?
“Fuck the dishes, baby.”
E.L. James puts coffee too close to horny.
Her eyes are wide and her pupils the darkest, most carnal espresso.
In case you’re curious, I searched the book and E.L. James describes Alessia’s eyes as “espresso” three times. Not wildly excessive, but definitely enough where it occurred to me to look up how many times I’ve already read this.
We’re only five pages into the chapter, but the rest of it we’re gonna skim through because it’s excruciatingly long, but it’s mostly just sex scene after sex scene. Y’all ok with that? You all know about girl on top, right? Kinky shit.
Alessia gets an internal, post-coital monologue about how she loves Maxim because “When has she ever sat for an evening and had a proper conversation with a man?”, which she almost immediately follows up with thinking, hey, maybe I should get to know him better and ask, like, what his job is, as though she also realized how ridiculous she sounded after her first thought.
Maxim also admits to himself that he loves Alessia. Again. I’m worried that Maxim might actually need a new hobby.
The next morning, Alessia surprises Maxim with breakfast in bed. Maxim throws a surprise boner at us out of nowhere.
I scoop up some scrambled eggs on a fork and offer it to her. She opens her mouth, and I feed her.
“Mmm…” she says, and closes her eyes in appreciation.
My dick rouses at the sight.
Maybe this is why Megan was so uncomfortable around Maxim in the restaurant? Maybe she’s totally moved on, fondly remembers her time with Maxim as a learning experience in her personal journey, but Maxim just couldn’t not get hard once Alessia started eating and it was pretty embarrassing.
“This is heaven on a plate, Alessia!”
Or maybe she heard Maxim say literally anything.
Alessia asks to put on some music. Maxim tells her to use the Sonos app. I can’t make up my mind whether it’s more embarrassing when E.L. James peppers her novels with references to contemporary technology brands or to hilariously outdated ones (remember Fifty Shades’ BlackBerries? Remember BlackBerries?)
They fuck again. Alessia plays piano. They fuck again. They almost fuck again in the shower. This was ten pages. The chapter ends with Maxim reminding us again that he’s fallen in love with Alessia, just in case we weren’t clear on that by this point.
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