Previously, Maxim whisked Alessia away to a private family residence to protect her from human traffickers. This sounds heroic until you realise that for the entirety of chapter 11, Maxim will be constantly reminding himself not to take advantage of Alessia.
The Mister Review, Chapter 11:
Alessia reflects on the fact that this whole situation seems like a setup for a compelling horror film:
Now that she’s sitting in the dark, with this man she hardly knows, she wonders at the wisdom of her decision. The only people who saw her leave with him were Magda and the security guard.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 215). Random House. Kindle Edition.
Maxim shows Alessia around the house and she has awed reactions such as, “Books!”, “Piano!”, “This house is so big!” and “Who cleans this place? It must take hours!” which really bring the setting to life.
There is a moment where Alessia muses that Maxim must be a very successful composer if he could afford a place like this, and I’m not sure if I find this endearing or unfathomably stupid. Let’s split the difference and call it somewhere in the middle.
They share a beer, and we shift to Maxim’s POV where he tries to figure out why the plot is happening.
But now, probably for the first time ever, I’m a little lost for words. I don’t know what she expects. It’s strange. We have nothing in common, and the intimacy we shared in the car seems to have vanished.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 218). Random House. Kindle Edition.
The tour resumes post-beer, and they agree to take a walk along the beach the next day since Alessia has never seen the sea, and E L. James needs to put them in another romantic scene to distract the reader from the fact that there is no chemistry between the leads.
Maxim shows an exhausted Alessia to her room, and in her POV she notes the inequality between them, but not in the context I was expecting.
Mirrored in the glass, he’s tall, lean and more than handsome, and she looks wan and scruffy beside him. In every way, they are not equals, and that’s never been more apparent than at this moment.
James, E L. The Mister (pp. 220-221). Random House. Kindle Edition.
Really? This is the moment where this is most apparent and not *checks notes* every previous scene in the book between you two? Like when you were cleaning his apartment? Like when Maxim was baffled you had to take the train home? But sure, okay, let’s go with this scene.
Maxim assures Alessia she’s safe and that he’ll only touch her if she wants him to, which, yay for basic human decency. The bar is really low. In his POV, though, things get creepier as expected. But first, Maxim recaps the day for us.
I hang our coats in the cloakroom, then collect my beer from the kitchen counter and enjoy a long draught.
What a day! [Note: what a strangely blithe way to refer to a desperate attempt to hide Alessia from human traffickers. This just sounds like they got lost on the way to the restaurant and almost ran out of gas on the high way.]
That first sweet kiss, I groan thinking about it – interrupted by those fucking thugs – and then her sudden disappearance and my mad drive to that godforsaken corner of West London.
And her revelation. Sex-trafficked.
Fuck – that was one hell of a shock.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 222). Random House. Kindle Edition.
Whew I’m glad he told us what a shock that was since I wasn’t sure.
Glancing up at the ceiling, I pinpoint where Alessia should, I hope, be sleeping peacefully. She’s the real reason I’m restless. It took every shred of self-control not to pull her into my arms and … And what? Even after all she’s told me, I can’t keep my thoughts above my waist. I’m like a fucking horny schoolboy.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 222). Random House. Kindle Edition.
Jesus Christ.
Hell. After all Alessia’s been through, she deserves a break. [Note: Again, what a weirdly blithe way to talk about it. She didn’t just go through a stressful break up, she was a victim of SEX TRAFFICKING. He’s acting like she just dated a jerk for a little while.]
She doesn’t need my lascivious attention.
She needs a friend.
Bugger. What the hell is wrong with me?
James, E L. The Mister (p. 223). Random House. Kindle Edition.
So many things. I mean, tone-deaf reactions aside, maybe stop assuming you know what Alessia needs and let her decide. By all means proceed with caution and don’t take advantage of a vulnerable woman, but also respect that she can have some agency here.
I know damn well what’s wrong with me.
I want her. Badly.
I’m infatuated.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 223). Random House. Kindle Edition.
Somehow that’s not actually what’s wrong with you, Maxim. This is what’s wrong with you:
There, I’ve admitted it to myself. [Note: Wait when was he not admitting this to himself? This whole book has been one big admission of how much he wants to bang her.] She’s invaded my thoughts and my dreams since I laid eyes on her.
I fucking burn for her.
But in all my fantasies, she shares my desire. I want her, yes. But I want her wet and willing – I want her to want me, too.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 223). Random House. Kindle Edition.
Oh my god the fact that this needs to EVEN BE CLARIFIED is horrifying and exactly what’s wrong with Maxim. “Yeah, I want her, but I don’t want to, you know, rape her.” IS NOT ROMANTIC? Am I supposed to read this and be impressed? Wow, he’s so noble.
I know I could seduce her but right now if she were to say yes, she’d be doing so for all the wrong reasons.
Besides, I promised her that I wouldn’t touch her unless she wanted me.
I close my eyes.
When did I acquire a conscience?
James, E L. The Mister (p. 223). Random House. Kindle Edition.
These logic circles. I can absolutely understand his concern about whether or not if he seduced her right now it would be taking advantage, but the way he’s phrased it again makes it sound more like he doesn’t think Alessia is capable of making those decisions for herself. “Besides, I promised her that I wouldn’t touch her unless she wanted me.” Makes it sound like ‘seducing’ Alessia would be some sort of mind fuck (which maybe for Maxim it usually is? I’m unclear on what point he’s trying to make.)
And if all these thoughts about not taking advantage of someone and only sleeping with them if it’s fully consensual means he’s finally acquired a conscience, I hope Alessia runs far far away from this man.
Maxim realises he feels so weird about all of this because of their inequality–he has everything and she has nothing. I mean…he’s onto something. Not only is there a huge class difference, but there are a lot of other things at play like immigration status (is that terminology correct?) and Alessia’s ongoing trauma as she is forced to keep running from human traffickers (frankly, at this point I’m surprised the traffickers haven’t just cut their losses and found an easier target who is less likely to draw attention to them.) Anyway, my point is it seems like he’s focussed more on the class differences than all this other fucking shit going on.
now I have to protect her from myself.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 223). Random House. Kindle Edition
Alessia, run.
Maxim hears Alessia crying from her room, and he reluctantly goes to comfort her. He also has an obligatory, stunted shoutout to his dead brother whom I had already forgotten existed.
I’ve had my fill of wailing women over the last four weeks: Maryanne, Caroline, Danny, Jessie. An image of Kit’s lifeless body comes to mind, and my own grief rises raw and unexpected.
Kit. Fuck. Why?
James, E L. The Mister (p. 224). Random House. Kindle Edition.
So he forces himself to go comfort Alessia, and he’s really happy he does because she falls asleep in his arms. Afterwards, he returns to his room and reflects some more on this complicated situation.
I’ve taken Alessia away from all that she knows. She’s destitute, friendless and totally alone. Well, she has me, and I have to behave myself. ‘You’re going soft in your old age,’ I mutter, and fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
James, E L. The Mister (p. 225). Random House. Kindle Edition.
WHAT WOULD NOT GOING SOFT HAVE ENTAILED?
The chapter ends with Maxim waking up to Alessia screaming.