Please don't kill me!! I am soooo sorry for the huge gap, but I have had so much uni work it is unreal. Exams are coming up, and I have been bogged down with revision. I do not know when I will be able to update after this chapter, but I should be able to at some point within the next 2 weeks. Come the first of june i will finally be free and will be updating loads!
Another thing- I know a lot of you have expressed concerns regarding when Christine will see the true Erik. All I can say is do not worry. I can't promise an angst free ride, but I do love a happy ending!
VampPhan- Nope, Erik doesn't wear a mask in this story. I thought it worked better with the story if he didn't.
Christine awoke the next morning with a huge grin on her face. For a few moments she lay in bed, wondering what had brought such unexpected joy to her morning. Normally she awoke in a foul mood. Morning was not her favourite time of day, as it usually meant having to get up to go to work. Today, however she felt almost joyful. It was then that she remembered her magical date with Erik. From start to finish it had been without a doubt the best date she had ever been on, and it had little to do with where he had actually taken her. Not that the opera or the restaurant hadn't been amazing. They had been, but it was mainly due to Erik himself. She couldn't even find words to describe how much she loved spending time with him. She jumped out of bed, and began getting ready for work, all the while humming to herself.
For the first time in a long while, she was not late, and even had time to grab some breakfast. She was just heading out the door, when her phone beeped. Could that be Erik already? She flipped it open, and was filled with disappointment when she saw it was Meg who had texted her. She should have known. Erik didn't seem like the type to text, she thought with a smile.
Hey Chris. Fancy meeting for coffee later?
Haven't heard form you in a while. Xxx Meg.
She quickly texted back, as she walked down the street to the bus stop.
Sure. How about half 12 at Starbucks?
I have a lot to tell you!! Xxx Chris
She couldn't wait to tell Meg all about Erik. She was always filled with advice on how to win a man, and frankly she just wanted to brag about her date from heaven.
..........
"I don't know what you're on, but I want some too." Beth looked over at Christine who was humming happily as she cleared away tables.
"I am high on life, Bethany." Christine beamed, doing a small twirl, as she sprayed the table with disinfectant.
"Well I wish I was. Oh dear, watch out. Mr Toad's coming." Beth scurried away. They would be in trouble if Mr Harrison, or Mr Toad as they called him, found them talking when they should be working.
Beth scurried away in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Christine balancing a pile of plates, so high, she could barely see over the top. She had been so preoccupied with thoughts of a certain hunk named Erik, that she wasn't looking where she was going. Suddenly, she felt her foot stumble, and she fell forward. She flung her hands out automatically, and as a consequence lost the pile of plates, which flew through the air, and landed in a pile of shattered china and food. Christine soon followed, and found herself sprawled out on the floor.
"Christine!"
She looked up from her position of the floor to see Mr Harrison stood above her, covered in what looked like tomato sauce. It appeared she wasn't the only one who had suffered as a consequence of her trip.
"What the hell do you think you are doing? Get up now, clear this up, and then go to lunch! When you come back, I want to se you in my office!" He shouted, before storming off.
Christine stood up, glaring after him. Who did he think he was? It wasn't her fault she had tripped. She began clearing away the broken plates, and threw them in the bin.
"Christine! Oh my God, what happened?" Beth came rushing out of the kitchen, concern etched on her face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Beth. Thanks."
Thankfully she had come off relatively unscathed, apart from her arm which was in agony.
She was slightly worried about what Mr Harrison wanted with her after lunch, but right now she was thankful for her lunch break, and once she and Beth had finished clearing away the broken plates, she headed off to meet Meg.
...............
"Oh Meg, it was amazing. He took me to the opera, and he has his own box! Can you imagine that? He can go to the opera whenever he wants."
"I can't imagine anything worse. All that wailing does my head in."
"You just can't appreciate it. Then he took me to this tiny French restaurant in Kensington. We had our own private area on the roof." Christine sighed as she recalled the evening.
"This Erik certainly likes to do things private." Meg chuckled. "So what else can you tell me? Did you kiss him? Did you invite him in for "coffee"?" She signalled the air quotes on the word coffee. They both knew coffee was not what she had meant.
"No I did not! What kind of girl do you think I am?" Christine mocked shock. "He was the perfect gentleman, and walked me to my apartment. I kissed him as I don't think he was going to."
Meg's eyes widened. "You kissed him? Why do you think he wasn't going to kiss you?" Meg asked, before sipping her Caramel Macchiato. "I hate to break it to you sweetie, but that's not a good sign. If a guy doesn't want to kiss you, then he's not interested."
"It wasn't like that. I know it sounds conceited but I could tell he liked me. I don't think a man would put that much effort into a date if he didn't like me. He seems really shy, and he's a total gentleman." Christine found herself drifting off into a dreamy state, just thinking about him. "Oh Meg, I can't wait for you to meet him. You will love him! Actually you had better not love him. He's mine."
"It sounds like you are well and truly over Dan then."
"Who?" For one moment Chrostine had no idea who Meg was talking about. "Oh, Dan! I am very much over him. I have never felt this way about anyone before, and I mean that."
"So when are you going out again?"
"He said he would call me today, but you never know when he actually will. When men say the next day, they often mean sometime next week."
"Well I have to admit, I have never seen you like this. I can't wait to meet him. He sounds dreamy."
They continued to talk about everything and nothing for the remainder of Christine's lunch break, catching up on any gossip. Christine kept glancing at her phone, hoping that Erik would ring. She knew she was being silly. He was a busy man, and probably wouldn't ring her until the evening, or perhaps tomorrow, but that didn't stop her checking it every five minutes.
"I am going to throw that phone at the wall if you don't stop looking at it." Meg threatened. "A watched phone never rings."
..............
Erik slammed the phone down yet again after dialling her number for the seventh time. He groaned, and banged his head on his large mahogany desk.
Just ring her, you idiot!" Said the tiny voice at the back of his head. Phone calls were something he rarely had a problem with. Seeing as he didn't go out in public much, he made a lot of them, and they meant he could talk to people without having them stare at his face. Making a phone call to Christine however was terrifying. What if he ended up saying something stupid, and scaring her away? Even worse, what if he had imagined her enjoyment of the previous night, and she made up some excuse so she didn't have to see him again when he called?
For him, Last night had been wonderful. He had enjoyed being with her even more than he had originally thought he would. For the first time in his life he had met someone who shared his dreams and passions, and appeared to want the same things in life that he did. Deciding, that she was probably still at work anyway, and wouldn't be able to pick up the phone, he refrained from attempting to call her again, and tried to get on with some work himself. Later tonight, when she would be home, he would call her and ask her out again.
Saying this however still did not mean he was going to get any work done today. He slammed down the lid of his laptop with a little more vigour that was probably healthy for it, and he stood up. He stared out of the window, down at his garden. The neatly manicured lawn and rows of trees were perfect. The gardener he paid a very handsome fee, ensured that they stayed that way. Erik wasn't quite sure why he even bothered with the gardener. He rarely went down there, except recently to pick the roses he had given Christine from one of the rose bushes, which grew all the way around his property.
To have acquired such a large house with an equally extensive garden in London had been a very expensive purchase, and he still wasn't sure what had made him do it. The Victorian house was large, with far too many bedrooms for one man. The pent house he had previously owned had been fine for him, but for some reason, this house had cried out to him when he had come across it ,quite by accident almost seven years ago. The place had been a tip, with graffiti all over what had once been beautiful dark stone walls, and numerous smashed windows. The windowsills were coated it dry rot, and cracked paint, and parts of it were close to collapse. The inside was just as bad. It was almost empty, as no one had lived in it for years, except the odd tramp, and a few teenagers using it to drink and take drugs. All in all, the entire place had been totally neglected, and as a consequence was a complete mess. For some reason, Erik saw potential in it, and and had made an offer to buy the house. The man he had bought it off had seemed happy to get the house off his hands, and had accepted what Erik thought of as a rather small offer straight away.
Seven years later, the house was spectacular. He has spent a not quite so small fortune transforming it into somewhere a king would be happy to live. He had thought that when he had finished he would achieve some sort of satisfaction, but whatever he had felt, it had been fleeting, and he had moved on to get another project which needed his attention. He always felt that the house was not quite finished, and yet no matter what he did it still did not feel right. He loved the house though, and doubted he would ever move, despite the fact that he would most likely live there alone. That was what he had always thought anyway. Now however, things were changing. He had Christine in his life. He could picture Christine pottering around his house, making changes. If there was one thing it needed, it was a woman's touch, and Christine could provide that beautifully. He could even see her in the garden, digging up the flower beds. He smiled to himself as he pictured that. As far as he knew she had no interest in gardening, and yet he thought that she might in the future.
Sighing, he sat back down, and began to try working once more, while he waited for the time to pass, so he could ring Christine.
..............
After Christine arrived back at work, after her lunch break, she knocked on Mr Harrison's door, apprehensively. She was still unsure what he wanted with her.
"Christine, sit down."
Christine tried to hide her grimace, as she sat down on the dirty looking arm chair he pointed to. She always hated coming in here. There were papers everywhere, and there were no windows, so it was always stifling hot. Christine moved uncomfortably on her chair, as he moved past her to sit in the chair facing hers.
"Christine. I think we can both agree that what happened this morning was not a first."
Christine shrugged slightly, feeling very uneasy.
"I think we can also both agree that you are hardly a good waitress. In fact, you can't do anything right at all."
She was being fired! Oh no, he couldn't be firing her. Much as she despised this job, she needed it. She only worked part time at the Piano room, so that didn't pay nearly enough to cover all her bills, and living expenses. If she lost this job, she didn't know what she would do.
"Please Sir; I know I can do better. Please, just give me another chance." She pleaded, hating the look of smug satisfaction on his face.
"I am afraid it's too late for that. There have been too many complaints about you already. I don't think you are cut out for waitressing, Christine."
"So that's it! You're firing me!"
"I am sorry. Really I am."
Sure he was! He can't wait to get rid of me!
"I don't think there is much point in you staying to the end of the day. Your last pay check will be sent to your home."
Christine stood up, and walked out of the room, not bothering to say anything; she was in such a state of shock. She made her way out of the restaurant and out towards the life. Shock had quickly dissipated to be replaced by anger. She wanted to smack the ugly toad in his round pudgy face. She made one tiny mistake, and now she was fired.
She made her way out of the building, all the while in a shocked daze. She was sure she must look like a zombie, but for once she didn't care. After she made it to the bus stop, she suddenly realised she had left all her things behind in the restaurant. Her bag, containing her purse and all her money, and her phone. She found the tears begin to form in her eyes when she remembered that there was the only picture she had of her father inside her purse. Gloria had thrown away most of the others, and that was the only one she had managed to save. The picture depicted her and her father on the camping holiday they had been on when she was seven .There was no way she was going back in there to find it though. She had more pride than that. The loss of her phone meant she would not be able to hear from Erik, or call him herself. She had only given him her mobile number, so there was no way he could contact her. When she got home, she could call Beth, and get her to bring her bag around later. All she wanted to do at the moment was going home, have a shower, and sleep for a hundred years.
What on earth was she going to do? She could call Meg using a pay phone, but she didn't want to hear Meg's "I told you so" tone. She had warned her about Mr Harrison for months, and had been urging her to quit for ages. The one person she did want to call was Erik, and she had no way of doing so. It was then that she realised that there was a way. He owned this very building. He had said that he rarely actually went to work there, but there was a small chance he had gone in today, and if he hadn't surely someone could give her a number she could call to contact him.
Suddenly feeling much better, she stood up from the bus stop seat, and began walking back towards the building. Attempting to flatten her hair, and make herself more presentable, she made her way up the stone steps she had just come down.
She approached the blonde woman at the main desk, who looked very busy with filing her long manicured nails, and didn't look up until she coughed loudly.
"Erm, excuse me."
"Yes." The woman sighed, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted. "Can I help you?" She peered down at her over the magazine she had propped up against her computer. To Christine she looked almost like an overgrown grasshopper, with a long, thin nose, sharp, angry features, and small beady eyes. All in all she didn't look pleasant.
"Hi, I was wondering if you have a number for Erik Caveliere." Christine asked. "The man who owns this company" She prompted, when the woman simply looked at her blankly.
"I'm sorry but I can't give you that. Why do you want it?" She gave her a scathing look, down her nose.
"I need to contact him urgently."
"What about?" She continued to look at her as if she was a large bug which needed squishing instantly. "Who are you?"
"It's private." Christine snapped back at this rude woman.
"Like I said, I can not give you that information. Who are you?"
Her beady eyes narrowed at her suspiciously.
"I am his girlfriend, as a matter of fact, and I need to see him now!" Christine tried not to raise her voice, but it was hard, seeing as how annoyed she was becoming.
Did I just say I was his girlfriend? Easy Christine. You've only been on two dates!
"If you're his girlfriend, then how come you don't already have his number?" she asked smugly, raising her thinly plucked eyebrows at her, disdainfully.
"I lost my bag, and my phone." Christine hissed.
"I'm sorry Miss, but I can't help you, even if I wanted to." She said in a way that clearly said that she did not want to. "I don't have his number. Now could you move along please?" She moved her gaze past Christine to a man who was standing behind her, waiting to speak to her. Her gaze transformed from annoyed to simpering, as she fluttered her long eyelashes at the man. Christine found herself being shoved out of the way by him, as he made his way to the front.
Stupid cow! Who does she think she is?
Christine seethed in anger, as she stomped away. She could just risk it and go back up stairs to retrieve her bag. She may not even see Mr Harrison again, seeing as the place would be crowded with people, but she could not face having to go back up there, and perhaps seeing that creep. She shuddered at the thought, and made her way outside.
Seeing as she had no money, she was forced to walk home. How could things have gone from close to heaven to the lowest pits of hell? She had been fired, and now she had lost her phone, and any contact she had with Erik. She wasn't working at the Piano room until Thursday night, and that was five whole days away. Not only was that now her only source of income, but her only way of contacting Erik. If she waited until then, then he may have moved on, and forgotten all about her. In Christine's mind however, there was no maybe about it. Someone like him could have anyone, and he would undoubtedly move on from her very quickly.
Three whole hours later, she finally made it home. She was limping due to a large blister which was forming on her heel, tears were streaking down her face, and she felt an absolute wreck. She had to talk to someone but the only person she wanted to talk to was Erik, and she still had no way of contacting him. Something told her that he would make her feel better. His beautiful relaxing voice and strong warm arms were just want she needed. She realised didn't have Beth's number, so she couldn't even ring her and ask her to pick up her bag. Perhaps she would see it, and bring it back for her. Beth was rather ditzy, so she doubted it.
She tried ringing Kamir at the bar, but as she suspected, she received no answer. It was the middle of the day, and so it wasn't open. Cursing, she slammed the phone down. Maybe she could find a number for Erik somewhere in the phone book. She would call the company and ask to be directed to him. She flung open the drawer in the living room, which housed her yellow pages, and began riffling through; trying to find the number, but there was nothing there. Slamming it down on the counter, she rushed over to the computer, and turned it on. There must be something on the internet about his company. Perhaps someone on the phone would be more helpful than the giant grasshopper in the reception. There must be some way of contacting the company, and surely they would have a number to contact him.
After flicking through various web pages, all she could find was an enquiry number for problems with computers. That was going to get her nowhere. Was she acting like a stalker? She hoped not. She just really needed to talk to him. Erik had somehow managed to get under her skin over the past few days, and she wasn't sure why. All she knew was that not being able to contact him was driving her crazy. She took a deep breath, and tried to calm down.
Easy, Christine. It's alright. All you need to do is wait until later tonight. You can call Kamir at the bar, and he will give you a number to call Erik.
She told herself this, but it didn't seem to help matters. What if Erik had tried to call her, and upon receiving no answer he had thought she wasn't interested? A man like that could have any woman he wanted, and she was sure he would move on from her very fast.
The time dragged by, and Christine could concentrate on nothing but waiting until it got to half past 6 which was when the Piano Room opened. Finally she could wait no longer, and picked up the phone at twenty past. Kamir would usually go in a bit early in order to prepare the bar. Soon she would have a number to call Erik, she would hear his beautiful voice, and everything would be wonderful once more.
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