AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone! As I mentioned in my last chapter to "Tapestry", things have been extremely hectic for me as of late, which unfortunately have caused me to put my writing on the back burner. But with Easter past, and spring coming (that is if this strange, mid-April Artic blast ever lifts) I hope to get some more chapters up in the next few weeks. Fanfic seems to be having issues with uploading chapters, but Waytoointoerik was a big help for me in getting this finally posted, so I do hope you enjoy! Thanks for all of you who have been sticking around and who have been such a strong network of support. I truly appreciate all of you and your words. Thanks and enjoy! Lady Rosesong
Summary: Plans are being made for the next upcoming date...
Erik, the "Date Phantom"
Dinner Preparations
On Monday, Christine practically floated into the office, and spent the whole day humming various songs from her favorite Broadway musicals. Brian took notice immediately, but surprisingly chose to keep his comments to himself; he knew that Christine had gone out on a date over the weekend, a date with the mysterious "coat guy", and while he did have fun teasing her about it last week…he chose to keep his jokes to himself this time. Christine deserved happiness, and he could tell by the way she was behaving, that the date had gone well. He hoped that whoever this "coat guy" was, he would continue to make Christine as happy as she appeared now.
Christine wasn't the only person who seemed to be humming happily. Brian also noticed a change in Meg, the few times he saw her walk about the main office. Meg, who normally kept herself locked away in her own office, if not in the boardroom studying the upcoming issues of New York Chique, was also walking around with a dreamy expression on her face.
Well, maybe walking wasn't the correct term; in truth, Meg was gracefully moving about the office, as if she were a ballerina, dancing from one desk to another. Brian couldn't understand it; what was going on with the women of this place?
Even Laura, the new intern who seemed to worship the ground Christine walked on, had a dreamy smile plastered on her pretty freckled face.
"Miss Davis?"
Christine glanced up from her computer screen and silenced her humming. "Oh, Laura, you have those files I asked you to pull from the archives?"
Laura grinned and handed the folders she was holding over to Christine. "And I ran across the street to get you those men's magazines that I remember you telling me about, in how you wish to use some info from them for your next article."
Christine smiled and happily took the magazines from the redhead's hands. "Thanks Laura, you're a big help."
The girl grinned, but instead of turning to leave and go about her next task, she looked over her shoulders, as if inspecting to see if anyone was nearby, before leaning down to speak to Christine in a hushed voice. "Miss Davis? I…I um…I know this is going to sound silly, and…well, if I am sounding silly, just tell me and I will leave you alone, I know that it's Thanksgiving week and you probably have a ton—"
"Laura," Christine interrupted, lifting her eyes from the computer screen and focusing in on the babbling redhead. "Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind?"
Laura smiled sheepishly, and then looked over her shoulder again, this time focusing mainly on Brian's cubicle, before turning her attention back to Christine. "As you know, I value your opinion greatly, I mean, your articles helped me after a really bad break-up that I had during my sophomore year—"
"Laura…"
Laura blushed, knowing that she was babbling and just got right to the point. "I met a man over the weekend," she whispered, in a slightly dreamy…as well as somewhat guilty tone.
Christine blinked several seconds. "Well…I'm happy to hear that…?" she whispered back, although slightly confused by why Laura was seeing this meeting as a dilemma.
"No, you don't understand," Laura explained, her voice even softer than before. "I'm new to New York and the whole ' New York experience,' and…it's been a long time since I had any sort of relationship with a man other than platonic friendship, and…I mean, what would your advice be?"
Now it all made sense. Laura, who admired Christine and her writing, wanted dating advice, of all things, from The Happy Single, herself. Christine felt the corners of her mouth lift just slightly, finding humor in the situation. Several weeks ago, if Laura had come to her with this "dilemma", she would have told the young woman to not even think about meeting this man, at least not until she had done her research on him and learned that he didn't have a wife, kids, or mistress stashed away someplace. But ever since Christine met Erik…the cynicism she used to hold towards the other half of the human race…had lifted, somewhat. Christine wouldn't say she trusted all men, but…Erik was proving to her that there were gentlemen still left in the world, and Stephen Dulane, according to what Meg had said, was also proving that one shouldn't judge a book by its cover.
"Miss Davis?" Laura was biting her lip in anticipation to Christine's answer.
Christine shook her head and returned her focus to the young intern. "May I ask where you met him?"
Laura blushed, but smiled. "I was getting Chinese take-out from a restaurant near my apartment building. He was waiting for his own order, and while we stood there, waiting for our orders to come up, we began talking…and, it was really nice, I confess," she giggled. "He told me how Chinese food always hits the spot on a cold, rainy night, how it's the body's comfort food for such nights, which I actually agree with…" she blushed and giggled again. "Anyway, it was pouring outside by the time my order came up, and he offered to get me a cab, but I told him I was only a short walking distance away, that it wasn't necessary…and then," she paused to sigh dreamily. "Then he gave me his umbrella and told me to keep it."
Christine smiled softly at Laura's tale, although the cynic in her was not completely satisfied, at least not entirely. She was trying to look at men and dating in a new light, but the cynic in her had been with her for five long years; it was hard to just turn a new leaf with the snap of one's fingers. "Did you exchange numbers? Did he watch you while you walked away to see where you went?"
Laura shook her head. "No, he got into a cab and went away in the opposite direction right after he gave me his umbrella. And as for the numbers…we didn't exchange them. But he told me how he comes to that restaurant every Monday night to have dinner, and…invited me to join him, if I was free."
Hmmm, well, he is at least giving her the opportunity to choose whether or not to join him. And he's not overstepping the comfort boundaries, not like that guy from the department store, Christine thought to herself. It is possible that he's another lost gentleman, like Erik…
"I don't think there is any harm in meeting him at the restaurant and having dinner…but I would advise that you don't take it further from that, at least not tonight." Christine frowned inwardly at herself, just slightly. Lord, I sound like my mother…
But Laura was smiling and nodding her head, happily. "Oh, thank you Miss Davis, I mean, I felt the same way, that since I was meeting him there, I would have some control over the situation, that he wasn't trying to…well…you know," she blushed and giggled. "I mean, we can't always suspect the worst of men just because a few have hurt us in the past, can we?"
It wasn't a question meant to be answered, Christine knew that much. Laura practically skipped away, looking happy and content with the advice she had been given. And Christine knew that Laura was also right; yes, she had some nasty boyfriends in the past, and some horrible dates…but so far, Erik proved to be none of those things, and she really, really liked him.
"I wonder if its possible that Laura requested this job, simply so she could be near you when she wanted advice, as opposed to writing an editorial and hoping that we will recognize it and have it published in the next issue?"
Christine glared up at Brian, who was leaning against his cubicle with a teasing grin. "Leave her alone, she's young and new and doesn't understand your sort of teasing. She'll think your serious, and then think that you hate her, and next thing I know, she'll be running to me, crying, thinking that I hate her."
Brian laughed. "Give the girl a little credit, Chris…and give me some too, for that matter," he hovered near her cubicle and began whispering. "And tell me about how your date with the Phantom Coat Guy went."
Christine blushed deeply and turned her desk chair away. "That's none of your business, and you know it."
Brian ignored her words. "I know that it went well, you've been humming all day," he teased. "So when's your second date?"
Christine's cheeks felt hot to the touch. She remembered that at the conclusion to their date, Erik had asked if he could call her early in the week to plan a second date. "Early in the week" was a very broad term; it could basically mean any day prior to Wednesday…although he could be one of those people who counted the middle day as a part of the early week.
Some may even say that "early in the week" was an excellent excuse for not even promising to call. But Christine, even the cynical side of her, didn't believe that. Erik had been the perfect gentleman throughout their entire date, and Christine couldn't help but believe that he enjoyed her company just as much as she enjoyed his. He meant what he said, you're just being over anxious. Give the guy some space; you don't want to scare him away…
Christine opened her mouth to say something cutting, but all manner of speech escaped when her phone began ringing.
It was him. Something deep inside told her that it was Erik.
"Well?" Brian asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to answer it?"
Christine swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded her head. With shaky fingers, she reached for the receiver and picked it up, before taking in a deep breath and lifting the phone to her ear. "Christine Davis' desk…"
Brian grinned and took a few steps back, allowing Christine some privacy as she answered the phone. He had a good idea as to who it was…
"Hello Christine," Erik's voice filled her ear, and Christine was sure she was going to melt away into a small puddle at the silky way he spoke her name. "I hope I am not disturbing you?"
"No!" Christine practically squeaked, before rolling her eyes heavenward. She had turned her chair away from where Brian had been standing. No doubt he was snickering at her behavior. "No, no, this is perfectly fine," Christine managed to say in a slightly more normal tone of voice.
"I'm glad," Erik murmured, and Christine felt her toes curl. "I wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed Saturday…"
A huge smile spread across Christine's face. "Me too," she murmured back. Oh God, she was falling hard…
"I apologize that I didn't get these to you earlier, that they weren't there when you arrived this morning."
Christine's brow furrowed. "Didn't get 'these'? I don't understand…"
"Christine?"
Christine turned her head to see Karen, the office receptionist, standing in front of her cubicle, holding a crystal vase filled with yellow roses. "These just arrived for you," Karen explained, before placing the vase down on one of the few blank spots on Christine's desk.
"I remember how you told me you love yellow roses," Erik murmured into her ear. "I hope they will do."
Christine was flabbergasted. She honestly could not recall the last time a man sent her flowers. "I…how…how did you…?"
Erik chuckled. "I asked the florist to call me the second he delivered the flowers to your office. As I said, I wish they could have been there when you arrived at work, but the florist didn't open until after 9am, and I wanted to make sure you received the very best."
Christine's eyes went wide. "Wait…are you…are you saying that you picked these out? That you went to the florist and chose the roses?"
Christine swore she heard the sound of feet shuffling…nervously? No, Erik didn't get nervous, Erik always seemed so calm and collected and…
Did she make him nervous? In the same way he made her nervous? She couldn't help but smile just slightly at this. She wanted him to like her…she hoped he did.
"Yes, I um…well, sometimes flower shops get orders mixed up, and I…I just wanted to make sure that you got the very best…" he reasoned, his silky deep voice sounding slightly higher than normal. Christine simply grinned.
"They are beautiful," she reassured. "Thank you very much."
She swore she could feel Erik smiling on the other end of the phone. "You are very welcome. And I wonder if you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner this week?"
Christine bit her lip to keep from screaming with joy. There it was! The second date! "I would love that," she murmured with all sincerity. "Did you have a certain day in mind?"
She swore she could feel Erik smiling earlier; this time she knew it. "Well, if I may be so bold as to ask…do you have plans for Thanksgiving?"
Christine's toes curled at the suggestion. She normally spent Thanksgiving with Brian and his family. She also went out of her way to somehow help Meg feel included, even if it meant going to her apartment and inviting herself inside. But Meg, she knew, had been invited to spend Thanksgiving with Stephen…and Susan, Brian's wife, was expecting a baby, and she didn't wish to make the poor woman work even harder. It all sounded so perfect…
"I do not," Christine grinned, her fingers curling around the telephone wire as she waited for Erik to say the words.
"Well…would you do me the honor of having Thanksgiving dinner with me?"
YES! Christine felt like hopping up and down, but took and deep breath and kept herself under control. "I would love to. May I ask where we will be having this meal?"
There was another pause, and once more, she could hear the sound of shuffling feet. "Well…I um…" Erik cleared his throat and Christine nibbled on her bottom lip as she awaited his answer. "That is…well…I understand if you mind, of course…but…um…I was thinking…my place?"
His voice sounded so soft then that Christine barely recognized him. She grinned and felt her own cheeks turn scarlet. "At your place?"
"Well…I…that is…well, yes, but as I said, I completely understand if you are not comfortable…not that I'm saying you should feel uncomfortable, because I would never…I mean, what I'm trying to say is—"
"I would love to," Christine whispered, rescuing him from the hole he had dug for himself.
There was another pause, and Christine held her breath, wondering what he was thinking, let alone trying to envision how he looked. "Wonderful," he murmured, a sigh of relief filling the phone line. "Wonderful," he repeated, sounding more confident and relaxed. "How does 4:00 sound?"
Christine loved the way that sounded. "Wonderful," she murmured, mimicking the same happy tone he had.
"Good," Erik murmured. "I'll have a cab pick you up at… 3:30?"
"Perfect," Christine grinned.
"Yes," Erik whispered, and Christine bit her lip to keep from moaning in pleasure at the way he spoke. "I look forward to seeing you again, Christine."
"Me too," Christine whispered back, before murmuring her goodbye and hanging up. She felt as if she were floating…floating on a cloud high above the heavens. It wasn't until she turned her desk chair back around and saw Brian hovering nearby that she was jolted back to earth.
"Don't worry," he grinned at her. "I'll be sure to tell Susan that you have other plans for Thanksgiving."
Erik gazed at the cell phone he held in his hands for several minutes, still surprised by everything that had transpired. It wasn't that he doubted Christine would wish to go out with him again—he did feel fairly positive that she enjoyed his company just as much as he enjoyed hers. It was the fact that even after he behaved like a fool on the phone, that she still agreed to spend Thanksgiving dinner in his company, amazed him.
"Erik?"
Erik was jolted back to reality at the sound of Stephen's nervous voice. He quickly stuffed the phone into his trouser pocket and turned to face the worried accountant.
"Sorry, I…I didn't mean to disturb you while you were on the phone—"
"It's alright, Stephen," Erik smiled, trying to once more put his focus back on his client. "I was just…talking with another client," he lied. "All is well, though," he turned the focus entirely on Stephen then, folding his arms across his chest. "How does the turkey look?"
Stephen bit his lip and glanced nervously over his shoulder into the tiny kitchen that his small apartment held. "I squirted some juice on it, like you said, but…how long does it take?"
Erik moved past Stephen to examine the kitchen and frowned just slightly at the giant mess the two of them had created. Stephen chose to take the entire week off, just so that he could spend his time learning how to cook. Erik had promised to spend several hours, every day leading up to Thanksgiving, to help his friend conquer his kitchen phobia.
It turned out that Erik had greatly misjudged Stephen; at least he had misjudged Stephen's cooking abilities. Erik was sure Stephen knew how to cook a few things, the very basics at least. But it turned out that Stephen was completely clueless when it came to the kitchen—the man wasn't even sure how the oven, let alone the stovetop, worked. Upon arriving, Erik threw off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and got to the task of teaching Stephen how all the kitchen appliances worked, before going about the task of trying to cook something.
Stephen was a nervous wreak; the confidence he had gained since his date with Meg had disappeared. He was convinced that he would never grasp the art of cooking, that he would ruin the dinner, no matter how carefully Erik showed him what to do, and that Meg would become ill and never speak to him again. It took a great deal of patience from Erik, both with convincing Stephen that he could learn this, and to not yell when Stephen did do something wrong, such as mistake the sugar with salt.
"The turkey looks fine," Erik murmured, as he peered into the oven. "And as for your green beans," he gently lifted the lid off the stove pot that the green beans were simmering in, "they appear to be cooking just nicely, as well."
Stephen swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. "That may be, but that's because you were here to help me. I mean…on Thursday, I'll have to do all of this on my own!"
"And that's why I'm here, helping you on a Monday, so that when Thursday does come, you'll feel confident and ready to serve her a five-star meal."
Stephen sighed, knowing that Erik was trying to help him relax and bring back some of the confidence he had once felt. If he didn't believe in himself, in the possibility that he could learn in time, and create a wonderful meal for himself and Meg, then it would fail. Remember the basic principles…confidence is key!
"Alright," Erik murmured, looking around the messy kitchen. "I think we should move on to the mashed potatoes…"
Stephen mutely nodded his head as Erik brought over the bowl of potatoes that they had spent all morning peeling. He watched as Erik demonstrated how to use the potato masher, and then with slightly shaky hands, took the masher from him, and took over the task. "You may need to put a little more muscle into it," Erik instructed.
Stephen nodded his head and applied more pressure to the masher, glancing up at Erik as he did so. "What are you going to do for Thanksgiving?"
Erik was grateful for the mask that covered his entire face, otherwise Stephen would see the blush that stained his cheeks. "I normally try to spend it alone," he truthfully confessed. "But I have some friends who make that very difficult for me." Wendy always insisted that Erik join her and Jonathon for the holidays, whenever possible. Erik was normally reluctant because Wendy, who loved to play hostess, would also invite other people to her parties. Erik was familiar with some of the people, and they knew better than to stare or even bring up the subject of his mask in conversation. But sometimes, there would be a few idiots, who would not drop the subject. Erik remembered one Christmas when one of Jonathon's coworkers became very drunk, and actually tried to remove the mask! Jonathon hauled the guy away from Erik, before he had the opportunity to pummel the drunk.
Yes, when it came to the holidays, Erik normally sought the familiar comfort of solitude, although he could not deny that it did get lonely. Yet this year, it would be different. This year, he was actually looking forward to Thanksgiving!
Although I should be petrified!
Christine was not simply spending the holiday with him…she was going to be spending it with him in his apartment! Oh God almighty, she is going to be there, with me, alone, and only few feet away from my bedroom…
It was going to be a daunting day.
Christine didn't even have a chance to make it to her own apartment when she received Meg's frantic call. Her friend demanded her immediate help and begged her to come, at once, to her Central Park West residence. Christine didn't even have the opportunity to knock on Meg's door after she had been buzzed into the building. With her fist lifted halfway to the door's surface, Meg threw the door open and grabbed Christine's hand, pulling her inside. "Thank God you're here! I need your help, desperately!"
Christine nearly stumbled forward. "Not another fashion show, I hope?"
Meg glared at her while shutting the door. "No, this is ten times worse!"
Before Christine could even ask what was ten times worse, her eyes took in the messy sight of the apartment's kitchen. There was flour everywhere, on the floor, on the counter, even on the walls! She saw milk, sugar, eggs, and other baking ingredients, strewn across the countertop, some dripping down onto the floury floor. There was also a terrible stench coming from the oven, and Christine realized that a fan was on, trying blow smoke away from the kitchen. "Good God, Meg! What did you do?"
Meg rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a pitiful sigh. "I'm trying to bake a pie!"
Christine's eyebrows rose in confusion. "A pie? Why are you—"
"For Thanksgiving!" Meg cried, trying to push several strands of flour covered hair away from her face. "Remember how I told you Stephen was inviting me to spend Thanksgiving with him?"
Christine nodded her head, listening to her friend while trying to get a sponge to mop up some of the mess.
"Well, he called me this evening, just after I got home…and told me that he is going to be making the dinner!"
Christine paused. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the distress on her friend's face. "Is that…bad?"
"YES!" Meg nearly shouted. "It means that he can cook! It means that he's putting more effort into this date than I had originally thought!" she collapsed into a nearby chair and began pouting. "None of my past boyfriends could cook to save their lives."
Christine bit her lip, but couldn't help but grin. "Do you realize what you just said?"
Meg's eyes narrowed. "What!?"
Christine grinned. "You said 'none of your past boyfriends could cook'…meaning, that you think of Stephen as a boyfriend."
Meg's face turned ten different shades of red. She opened her mouth as if to protest, and then closed it, turning an even darker shade of red, before fidgeting in her seat. "I…I…well…well so what!?" Meg burst to her feet and began pacing the messy kitchen. "He's a nice guy, a gentleman in fact! I know we've only had one date, but I can't remember the last time I was treated with such…such…"
"Respect? Care? Thoughtfulness?"
Meg nodded her head, her eyes focusing on Christine. "How did you know?"
Christine began blushing now. "Because…that's exactly how I felt, after my date with Erik."
A huge smile filled Meg's pretty face, and took Christine's hands in hers. "Chris, I think it may be possible that we've nabbed the last two true gentlemen in all of New York City."
Christine blushed, but joined her friend in giggling. "So, what is really the problem?"
Meg groaned and folded her arms. "It's just like I said; Stephen is going to all this trouble to make dinner for me, and…and…well, I have to do something! I don't want him to think that I'm a complete idiot in the kitchen!"
"Idiot is too strong a word," Christine teased. "Ignorance is about right."
Meg glared at her. "I told Stephen that I would bring dessert, that I would make a pie and bring it to dinner."
Christine nodded her head, it all making sense now. "And you have no idea what you're doing, do you?"
Meg threw her arms up into the air. "I've never cooked before, Chris! I always have my meals catered, or receive them pre-cooked. I can't even tell the difference between sugar and salt. I keep getting the two mixed up!" she groaned and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I've never attempted to make a pie before…" her eyes focused on something just behind Christine, and Christine turned, nearly jumping out of her shoes at the ghastly sight before her.
"Is…is that…?"
Meg nodded her head. "It wasn't like I didn't follow the instructions in the cookbook! I did everything they said…"
Christine didn't dare touch the burnt object that was meant to be a pie. "What…kind is it?"
"Pumpkin," Meg grumbled. "The 'traditional' Thanksgiving dessert."
Christine turned her head away; the smell of the burnt pumpkin was almost too much. "Well, I am proud of you Meg, for at least trying without any help."
"But that's why I need you, Chris! You're a midwestern farm girl, you surely know how to make—"
"First off, I've never made pumpkin pie before. We always had apple. Second…it's been years since I made a pie! I don't even know if I remember how to make the crust—"
"Oh it will be simple," Meg interrupted, grabbing an apron and thrusting it into Christine's arms. "You just follow the recipe, and show me what to do!"
This had disaster written all over it…if it was possible to create more disaster. With a groan, Christine pulled off her coat and put on the apron that Meg had thrust into her arms. Thank heaven Meg at least had a cookbook. As she began separating the different ingredients into a bowl, Meg watched her with deep interest. "So…Brian told me you received a phone call today…?"
Christine nearly lost her grip on the measuring cup she was holding. Brian, I swear, next time I get my hands on you…
"It was him, wasn't it?" Meg giggled, leaning in close to see Christine's reaction. The blush confirmed her question. Meg had called Christine around 1am on Sunday, and was shocked to realize that Christine wasn't there. She called again, every hour on the hour after that, still shocked that Christine wasn't answering. It wasn't until 7am that Meg finally received an answer. Despite the fact that she was exhausted, she squealed when Christine answered the phone and demanded that she tell her everything that had happened. Meg thought it was absolutely romantic that her friend had spent the whole night with the masked man, just walking and talking and not even noticing the passing of time. Christine deserved happiness; Christine deserved romance, and Meg was ecstatic that she was getting both after so many years of heartache. "So?" Meg grinned, trying to catch Christine's eyes, which were purposefully looking away from her. "What are you guys going to do? What plans have you made for your next date?"
Christine was beet red, but despite the glares she sent in Meg's direction, she couldn't help but smile. "He invited me to spend Thanksgiving with him," Christine softly murmured, to which Meg gave an exuberant squeal.
"Oh my God! Just like Stephen and me! Oh Chris, will it just be the two of you? OH! Is it going to be at his place!?"
The blush was spreading down Christine's neck, and she remembered the sexy, and slightly nervous way, Erik had invited her to his home for Thanksgiving dinner. Ever since the invitation, a million thoughts…and fantasies, were spreading through Christine's mind. Maybe we'll kiss this time? Oh God, maybe we'll start kissing…and then…then…
"You better bring protection, just in case."
Christine was jolted by Meg's matter-of-fact sentence, and blushed even more. "I don't think anything is going to happen," she muttered under her breath. Unfortunately. "Erik is a perfect gentleman; I don't think he is going to…try…anything, especially not on Thanksgiving."
Meg's brow furrowed. "Why? People have sex all the time, even on Thanksgiving."
Christine glared at her friend. "Are you going to have sex with Stephen on Thanksgiving?"
It was Meg's turn to change color, but much to Christine's surprise, the petite woman grinned mischievously. "We'll see…"
Christine grumbled something under her breath and went back to work on trying to salvage Meg's pie. Yet no matter how hard she concentrated, all she could think about was being alone with Erik, alone in his apartment, wherever that was. She honestly could not imagine him overstepping his boundaries…even if she allowed him to. Oh God, this is going to be pure torture! He's going to sit there, carve the turkey, talk about wonderful, sophisticated, intellectual things…and I'm going to be drooling like a dog.
For the first time since she had met Erik, Christine was looking forward…and dreading, her upcoming date.