Tiffany opened the door to her apartment and flipped on a light switch. She held it for Doug, who graciously was carrying her bags.
"It was really sweet of you to give me a ride home," she said genuinely.
"I was going this way and I didn't want to leave you at the mercy of a taxi."
"I appreciate that," she said. "Can I get you something?"
Just you, he thought to himself. To her he said, "How about a date?"
She smiled at him. "Do you really want to start this all over again?"
"Yes, I do," he said. "Hopefully with a different result."
"I can practically guarantee you of that," she replied.
"Good. Duke's tonight?"
Tiff froze in her tracks at the thought of seeing someone she didn't want to, but kind of did. But she recovered quickly. "That sounds fine. Shall I meet you there?"
"How about I pick you up? An hour too soon?"
"It'll be pushing it, but I think I can manage," she said, smiling brightly. He remembered why he was interested in the first place.
"Be back in 59 minutes and change," he said.
"Thanks again."
"You're welcome again," he replied, feeling lighter than he had in a couple of months. He resisted the urge to kiss her, even on the cheek, and exited.
Tiffany closed the door behind him and leaned on it. She actually was feeling a little better despite herself. Doug was a good distraction. But she knew she wasn't looking forward to facing a couple of people she would have to now that she was back. Oh well, she had her TV station ... and maybe something more to keep her occupied. Still, she couldn't help wondering where Sean was and what he was doing ... and if he had missed her the slightest bit.
Sean in his penthouse, finishing up a call with Herbert Quartermaine. Their little financial windfall had netted them both millions of dollars, in addition to winning Herbert his bet with Edward. Usually putting one over on Eddie would satisfy Sean, but he was feeling a little hollow since Tiffany left following their misunderstanding a a few weeks ago.
As soon as he put the receiver down, the phone rang. He snatched it quickly, hoping it was Tiffany - he seemed to be always be hoping it was her on the other end, and it never was. Well, it was about as close as he could expect to get.
"Hi Sean, how is one of the richest men on the Eastern seaboard doing this fine evening?"
There was a familiar cadence to the voice and a similarity Sean was sure neither woman would be happy about if he pointed it out to either one of them. "Hello, Cheryl," he said, disguising his disappointment as he was becoming accustomed to doing of late.
"How about spending some of your vast fortune on me tonight?" she said.
"You're definitely not one for mincing words, are you?" he responded with a hint of admiration.
"Certainly not when it isn't necessary, and maybe not even then," she said.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
"Depends on what you do. If you'd like to be alone, a nice dinner for two would be nice. Otherwise we could go out."
"Tempting offer. How about Duke's?"
"Not tempting enough, apparently," she said. "Duke's it is. And you don't even have to pick me up."
"Why's that?" Sean asked.
"Because I've just rented the penthouse."
"Really? So you're planning on staying in Port Charles for a while," he said.
"I've already struck a deal to open an office. So getting some digs commensurate with the image I want to project is essential," she said. "But we can talk about this more tonight. I'll see you in Duke's in a half-hour."
Cheryl hung up before he could respond.
"Woman knows what she wants," he said. He thought about that one for a second, and how she'd already wreaked some havoc in his life by trying to get what she was going after. He went upstairs to shower and change anyway.
Sean walked into Duke's 45 minutes later. He had been ready on time to meet Cheryl, but he wasn't going to let her think he had been eager to see her.
"It's nice to see you again, Sean," she said, leaning over and kissing his cheek.
"Nice to be seen."
"I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle," she said.
"And the liberty of starting to drink it too," he added.
"You were a tad late," Cheryl said.
"Glad I didn't hit serious traffic," Sean retorted.
"Would you like to sit or would you like to dance?" she asked.
"I think I'll sit for a few minutes and try to catch up," he said.
"Very well," she said, leading him to a table for two.
Sean sat down, deftly pulled the champagne out of the ice bucket and poured a tall glass for himself, leaving just enough room at the top for it to breathe. He gestured with his head toward Cheryl inquiringly, then topped off her glass.
She traced the rim with her finger and picked it up. "Here's to getting to know you better." She clinked his glass and drank, he still held his in his hand as he looked her over. "It's bad luck not to drink after a toast," she continued.
He slowly raised his glass and took a sip.
"You like?" she asked.
"The champagne is very good," he said deliberately, then quickly changed course. "Heard from your sister?"
"I knew we'd get around to that more sooner than later," she said. "Sean, I hadn't talked with El ... er, Tiffany ... in over a decade, I hardly think she would take the time to confide in me now when she's playing the 'wronged woman role' to the hilt."
"That may be true, but I don't believe you actually answered my question."
"I haven't heard from her. Can we get on with OUR evening?"
Sean was about to take another sip of his champagne when the object of his questioning appeared in the doorway with Doug Baxter.