The One With The Indecent Proposal

By: Jana~

Chapter Nineteen

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Six Months Later

--Monica headed into the kitchen, clipboard in hand, inspecting the final produce delivery as the grand opening of her restaurant neared.

Her restaurant. She liked how that sounded, a ghost of a smile on her face as she checked off each of the items she'd ordered. Her dreams were coming true, and it was all because of one man. A man she hadn't seen in months. A man she'd only seen three times, since that strange, frightening, wonderful night.

The first time she saw him again, after the incident, was less than twenty-four hours later. True to their word, the four who shared the cage within the dungeon got together, at the fanciest and most expensive restaurant in all of New York, to share a meal and make pigs of themselves.

And they did. They ate as much as they dared to, telling jokes and laughing, talking and getting to know each other outside the stressful situation they had shared. Briefly, the subject of Ursula came up, all wondering why she did it, and what would eventually happen to her.

Within hours, the meal done and the check paid by Chandler, they said their goodbyes, nothing more than lingering glances and a slow drawn out hug any indication of feelings shared.

"I'll call you," he promised her in a whisper, and she smiled as she nodded.

The next time she saw him was a few weeks later. They got together, with lawyers and a real estate agent, to discuss the purchasing of a restaurant. Again, there were glances that spoke volumes, the pleasant tension between them bringing on slight nervous smiles, but no direct mention of anything besides the promise of contact again soon.

The last time she saw him was when the deal for the restaurant was finalized. He'd shown up, signed papers, handed over a cashier's check, then signed the restaurant over to Monica. In a moment alone, she thanked him again for his generosity, and wrapped her arms around him; her whole body responded to his touch.

While in his arms, he whispered, "Monica, I want you to focus on your restaurant. Focus on your dream. Don't think about me and you, or what happened that night. Don't dwell on feelings you have for me, or what we could have or still could become. Just, enjoy your dream. Savor it, and make it everything you've ever wanted."

"What I want," she whispered back, "Is to share this with you."

He pulled back, and cupped her face in his hand. "This isn't goodbye, Monica. I will be back, but, for right now, I need you to forget about me."

"That's not possible," she returned, and he smiled.

"Good," he whispered, then pulled her back into his embrace. "I don't want anything interfering with this experience," he explained. "I don't want new love dividing your attention, taking away from your dream, and I don't want focus on your dream taking your attention away from us."

"I understand what you're saying," she told him softly, "But…"

"But, what?" he asked.

Holding him tighter, she said, "I don't think I can let go of you right now, so you'll have to push me away."

He kissed her hair, cradling her head in his hand as he held her for a few moments longer, than he gently took her shoulders and pushed away from her.

"This isn't goodbye," he reminded her. "Just, see you later."

She smiled as she waved only slightly, a lone tear trickling down her cheek, watching as he turned and walked away.

That was months ago, and except for the dozen red roses and a card of congratulations sent to her apartment shortly after the date of the grand opening was announced, she hadn't heard from him or seen him at all. She thought about contacting him, but she knew he would stay true to his word. He was waiting for the right time, and while she didn't know when that would be, she had no doubt at all that it would be.

***

--Opening night couldn't have been more perfect. The diningroom crew gave flawless service, the kitchen crew fit into Monica's style of cheffing and organization to a T, and the only comments from the guests were favorable.

She had never been so tired in all her life, but the thrill of her extremely successful opening made it all worth while.

After the last of the guests paid, expressing their approval over the dinner and service before wandering languidly out the door, sated and happy, after the door was locked and the closed signed turned into place…

After the crew completed break-down and cleanup, preparing and organizing the restaurant for the following day's business, after the cash drawer was tallied and prepared for bank deposit and all met with Monica's approval…

After all the employees left for the night, saying their goodbyes as they walked out into the cold New York night, it was only then that Monica finally stole a moment to sit down, for the first time since her night began.

Sighing, she kicked off her shoes, her feet pounding in complaint of the long night and lack of sympathy, but still she smiled.

'My restaurant,' she thought to herself, looking around the dimly lit diningroom. 'The only thing that would make this all more perfect…'

As soon as the thought hit her mind, like Soap Opera timing, she heard a light rapping on the locked front door. She spun around, startled, squinting to make out the shadowy figure that stood separated from her by a simple glass door. Whoever it was waved, the dusky light from the streetlamps behind the person made that much discernible.

Slowly, she stepped towards the door, still struggling to see a face, or some distinguishing feature. Only when she was a couple feet away, did she realize who was standing there, smiling.

Moving faster, she approached the door, her eyes finding and locking with his as she strained to open the door by touch alone.

Finally without a barrier, she threw herself into his arms, breathing his name, emotionally overwhelmed.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, and he tightened his grip on her.

"So am I," he returned softly, waiting for a moment before asking, "Can I come in?"

She pulled back, smiling in apology. "Of course!" Once he was inside, she locked the door again. "I wish you could've seen," she told him excitedly. "Tonight was amazing!"

His smile grew wider. "I did see."

"You were here?" she asked, and he nodded. "Why didn't you come back to the kitchen and say hello?"

"I didn't want to interfere with your opening night," was his excuse.

"You wouldn't have been interfering!" she insisted, but he shook his head in response.

"If I had announced myself, and gone back to see you, your mind would've been on that, and not on your restaurant. I wanted tonight to be all about you and your dream."

With a smile, she nodded appreciatively, adding a moment later, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," he admitted easily. "I've thought about you so much. Dreamed about you… They were good dreams," he added with a grin.

"Please don't say this is another 'see you later'," she pleaded, and he took a step forward.

"I want to see you now, later, and forever," he told her softly. "That is, if you still feel something for me."

She felt her heart racing faster, so close to him now, finally, that she could feel his warmth radiating off him.

"Why do I always feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush when I'm in your presence?"

"I don't know," he whispered, "But, if it helps, I feel like a nervous schoolboy every time I'm near you."

"You, nervous?" she asked, disbelieving. "You don't seem very nervous to me."

Wordlessly, he took another step, taking her hand in his and placing it over his heart. It raced, just like hers, and following his example, she repeated the gesture, taking his hand and placing it over her heart.

"Are you done here?" he asked. "Are you ready to lock up?"

Nodding, she asked, "Where are we going?" She felt her breath catch as he closed the gap between them, his fingers raking into her hair as he leaned in.

Lips brushed gently, evolving into a soft kiss, her head spinning as heat spread to every ounce of her being.

"I have this feeling," she breathed as his lips moved to caress her neck, "That this perfect night is about to become even more perfect."

With a sigh of contentment, he whispered, "You deserve nothing less."

THE END

Ok, folks, that's it! How did we like it? Inquiring minds wanna know! Namely, me! So, please leave a review and let me know what'cha thought of it, k?

Pretty please? With sugar on top? With cherries and whipped cream on top? With hot fudge and Matthew Perry on-?

No, wait, that's something else.

Anyway, please review! And MTLBYAKY