fifty-shades-of-grey

“Yes,” I answer cautiously.“I have a package for you here, but I have to set it up and show you how to use it.”“Really? At this time?”“Only following orders, ma’am.” He smiles in a charming but professional he’s-nottaking-any-crapway.Did he just call me ma’am? Have I aged ten years overnight? If I have, it’s that contract.My mouth puckers in disgust.“Okay, what is it?”“It’s a MacBook Pro.”“Of course it is.” I roll my eyes.“These aren’t available in the shops yet, ma’am, the very latest from Apple.”How come that does not surprise me? I sigh heavily.“Just set it up on the dining table over there.”I wander into the kitchen to join Kate.“What is it?” she says inquisitive, bright eyed and bushy tailed. She’s slept well too.“It’s a laptop from Christian.”“Why’s he sent you a laptop? You know you can use mine,” she frowns.Not for what he has in mind.“Oh, it’s only on loan. He wanted me to try it out.” My excuse sounds feeble. ButKate nods her assent. Oh my… I have hoodwinked Katherine Kavanagh. A first. Shehands me my tea.The Mac laptop is sleek and silver and rather beautiful. It has a very large screen.Christian Grey likes scale – I think of his living area, in fact, his whole apartment.“It’s got the latest OS and a full suite of programs, plus a one-point-five terabyte harddrive so you’ll have plenty of room, thirty-two gigs of RAM – what are you planning touse it for?“Uh… email.”“Email!” he chokes, bemused, raising his eyebrows with a slightly sick look on hisface.“And maybe Internet research?” I shrug apologetically.He sighs.“Well, this has full wireless N, and I’ve set it up with your Me account details. Thisbaby is all ready to go, practically anywhere on the planet.” He looks longingly at it.“Me account?”“Your new email address.”I have an email address?He points to an icon on the screen and continues to talk at me but it’s like white noise.I haven’t got a clue what he’s saying, and in all honestly, I’m not interested. Just tell mehow to switch it on and off – I’ll figure out the rest. After all, I’ve been using Kate’s forfour years. Kate whistles, impressed when she sees it.“This is next-generation tech.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Most women getflowers or maybe jewelry,” she says suggestively, trying to suppress a smile.I scowl at her but can’t keep a straight face. We both burst into a fit of giggles, andcomputer man gapes at us, bemused. He finishes up and asks me to sign the delivery note.