A month had passed since Cristina and Owen started working together. They were a good team and he was very pleased with her work. She found him to be a great teacher, willing to share his knowledge. They got along really well when they worked together. She really liked working with him. But that was as far as it went. She never interacted with him, outside of the time that they worked together. He found that a bit disappointing, since he knew that she was making the effort to keep her distance.
He noticed that she hardly ever went to the kitchen, again. He knew that was her way of avoiding him, on the slight chance that they were in the kitchen, together. She wanted to avoid any social conversation. She ate her lunch in her office but every Friday, she and Janet usually went out for lunch. He used this opportunity to his advantage.
He had noted her sweet tooth, so every Friday, he usually had a treat delivered to her office. The first week, he left a coconut cupcake on her desk.
When she first got the coconut cupcake, she wondered who had put it on her desk. She got up, opened her door and looked around to see if anyone else was eating cupcakes. No one else had one. She wondered it if it was Dane, who was leaving it for her. But then, it couldn't be Dane because he would have made sure that she knew it was him.
She stared at the cupcake for three minutes, wondering whether she should eat it. Owen had come by to drop off a folder and noticed that the cupcake was uneaten.
"Aren't you going to eat your cupcake?" he asked.
"I don't know if I should," she said. "I am not sure who put it there. Suppose it is poisoned." He was alarmed that her mind went there.
"I am sure the person, who put it there, probably had good intentions," he said. Since he knew he was the person who put it there, that was certainly true.
"I guess," she said. "And I really do like cupcakes from this particular bakery." She picked it up and bit into it, much to his delight. "Hmmmm. It does taste scrumptious."
"Anyway, enjoy your cupcake. I will see you in a bit," he said. He walked out of there with a smile on his face. The following weeks, she devoured the treats without even thinking about it. On the second week, he left a slice of raspberry cheesecake, the third week, two chocolate truffles and on the fourth week, a slice of red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.
On the Friday that he had left the red velvet cake, he went to the kitchen and was surprised to hear about a house-warming party that she was hosting. Some of the other staff members were discussing what they were going to buy for presents for the party, that Saturday night. That was the first he had heard of it. They worked with each other every day for the entire week and not once, had she mentioned it to him. It seemed to him that he was not going to be invited. He was a little sad about that. He wondered if he was the only one, not invited. He didn't think that she would treat him like that. Anyway, it was her party and she could invite anyone that she wanted, he thought.
He popped into her office to see her eating the red velvet cake that he had left. "Cristina," he said. He startled her and she got cream cheese frosting on her cheek. He thought she looked so endearing with it.
"Mr. Hunt, can I help you?" she said, not realizing that there was frosting on her cheek. He said, "You've got a little bit of frosting on your cheek." That's not what he really wanted to say. He really wanted to ask if he could have licked off the frosting. She took up a napkin and cleaned the wrong side of her face.
"No, no," he said, picking up another napkin and wiping the frosting off her face. "Thank you," Cristina said, a little bit embarrassed by this.
"It's okay. I just came by to let you know that the numbers from Marketing came in," he said.
"Oh, good," she said. "I can work on that, right away." He turned to leave the office.
"Um, Mr. Hunt, are you free, tomorrow night?" she asked. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her.
"Yes, I am," he said. Was she going to invite him to her party? He could only hope.
"I am having a house-warming party at my house, tomorrow night. It is just some friends and we're going to share some food and drink at my place," she said. "I was wondering if you would like to come. Of course, you don't have to, if you want to do something else."
"Your house? House-warming party. I would love to come," he said, with a huge smile.
"Oh, great," she said. "Let me write down my address. I live in Pacific Heights." He watched as she wrote down her address and her home phone number. "Dress is casual."
"Pacific Heights. That is a great area," he said. "Very walkable to all the shops and restaurants."
"Yup, I love it there. My grandpa left me the house, when he moved to Florida. I have been living there for about three months. I finally got it the way that I wanted," she said. "So that's why I am having the party."
"What time should I get there?" he asked. He wondered if he sounded too eager. He was excited because it was the first time she had shown any signs of interacting with him on a social basis.
"Come any time after 8 p.m. I am only planning to go on, until midnight," she said. "I am an old person, I need my sleep." She laughed.
"If you're old, I must be positively ancient," he said, joining in the laughter. He liked this – they were conversing and for once, it wasn't about work.
"Well, okay, I better get back on those numbers," she said. "As soon as I am done, I will come by your office."
"Okay," he said. He left the office, with a song in his heart.
The next day, he found himself, scouring the shops of San Francisco for a house-warming present. In the end, he bought Japanese wind chimes for the garden. He truly hoped that she had a garden behind her house. He didn't want to buy anything too expensive. It was too early in their relationship to do that. He laughed at himself. "Our relationship," he said, shaking his head because he knew, at this point in time, the only relationship they had was a working, professional one.
"Excuse me, sir?" the cashier asked, wondering what he was talking about. Owen muttered, "Nothing." The cashier observed him with a quizzical look, "That would be $75.25, sir." Owen handed over his credit card.
That evening, he changed his clothes three times. His first outfit, he thought he looked overdressed. His second outfit, he looked a little too underdressed. In the end, he decided on a classic look – white, linen shirt with jeans. He couldn't go wrong there, he thought, as he picked up his present and headed to her house.
When he pulled up in front of her house, he was amazed by it. It was a beautiful Victorian house with an extraordinary and intricately embellished façade. It was clear that great care and love had been given to preserve the house. He rang the doorbell and was delighted to see Cristina with her hair down, when she opened the door. She looked beautiful. He had not seen her, since that night in Vegas, with her curls cascading down to her shoulders. Usually, she wore her hair in a severe bun at work. He remembered how many times he had run his fingers through her hair, that night, marveling at its lush softness.
"Hello," she said. "Glad you could make it." She was wearing a soft blue eyelet dress. It was very feminine, a far cry from her usual work attire. He wished he could see her more in this state.
"Hey, Cristina, beautiful house you have here," he said. He admired the tall ceilings, the hardwood floors and the exquisite architectural details.
"Thank you, my grandpa loved this house," she said. "Do you want to take a tour?"
"Yes, please," he said. "I love architecture and to see a Victorian house this well preserved, it would be an absolute pleasure."
"Okay," she said. "Off the foyer, we have a triple parlor, which has been made into a living room, dining room and family room area." Owen nodded to the people he recognized. Many of them were from the workplace. Some of the woman murmured under their breaths, when they saw him. The triple parlor was tastefully decorated in shades of peach, white, blue and grey. Then, they went to the large kitchen, with its white cupboards and blue accents. On one end of the kitchen was a window seat, which was combined with a table and two chairs to form a charming, eat-in area.
"I like to sit in the window seat and watch out at the garden in the mornings, while I have my tea," she said.
"Oh, that reminds me," he said, handing over the gift bag. "I forgot to give you this." He handed over the gift bag.
"Japanese wind chimes for the garden. I love them," she said. She looked at him with bright, shining eyes. "Let's put them up, now. I want to hear them in the wind." She looked like an eager child, when she said it.
"Okay," he said, feeling he couldn't deny her the pleasure of putting up the chimes right away. She ran out into the backyard and tried to pick up a ladder that was at the back of the house.
"Leave that, Cristina," he said. He took the ladder from her and placed it under the branch of a tall tree. He looked around at the garden. It was very green with flowers, lining the garden walkway. He tied the chimes to the tree and as if on cue, a gentle breeze blew and the pipes on the chimes let out a soothing sound.
"Ohhhh, that sounds lovely," she said. "So peaceful. Thank you so much, Mr. Hunt." Owen climbed down from the ladder. "Don't you think you can stop calling me Mr. Hunt?" he asked. "We are not at work, right now. Call me Owen."
"Okay, Owen," she said, still pleased at the sound of the chimes. He loved the sound of his name on her lips.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" she asked. He nodded.
On the second floor, there were four bedrooms, one of which she was using as an office/tv room. For one small woman, he thought that was a lot of bedrooms. On the top floor was a luxurious master suite, which had a view deck, which looked out on to the city. They stood out on the deck, admiring the city lights. "Well, that is about it," she said. "The basement level is just a wine cellar, storage room and the two-car garage. Tandem parking, of course."
"This house is so magnificent, Cristina," he said. "It is one of the most beautiful houses I have ever seen."
"Thank you," she said. "I love it here. When my grandpa said he was leaving me the house, I could have just flipped."
"You do know it is worth a lot of money," he said. "Given the location, the historical value and the architecture, it must be a multi-million dollar property."
She nodded. "Yes, it is true. A realtor came in and appraised it. It is worth $3.6 million. Imagine me with a multi-million dollar property."
"You do have a lot of bedrooms in this house," he said.
"Well, I figure those are reserved for my children," she said. He loved that she was talking about her future and the possibility of children. He often thought about his future and family and settling down. Then she laughed, "But I have to find my husband, first, of course." He looked at her, longingly, when she said it. Since that night in Vegas, he had not touched her and his hands ached to feel her soft skin underneath them.
As they stood there, watching the city lights off her deck, it seemed like it was just the two of them in the world. They could have stood there for a long time, were it not for the urgent knocking on her bedroom door. Cristina rushed to open the door. It was Janet.
"Cristina, you've got to come downstairs, now. Dane is here. I think he is drunk and he is calling your name," Janet said. Despite the news she was delivering, Janet was still quick to notice that Owen was behind Cristina in the bedroom. She made a mental note to ask her friend about this but handling Dane was a more pressing situation.
Cristina rushed downstairs with Janet and Owen, following her. He wondered who the heck was Dane. When they got to the ground floor, Dane was at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her.
"Cristina," he shouted. "How could you throw a party without inviting your boyfriend?"
Owen could not believe what he was hearing. She had a boyfriend! This was not something he wanted to hear.
A/N: Please leave your comments and reviews. I do appreciate when you take the time to leave your thoughts.
