Boyfriend?

"Boyfriend?"

"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!"

The alarm clock went off at exactly six o'clock on Monday morning. Heather lay under the thick blue comforter and closed her eyes tightly. She contemplated hitting the snooze button, then realized that just made her a chicken.

"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!"

"Oh God I wish I was dead," Heather thought as she pulled the comforter over her head. She knew this was not going to be the most pleasant day at work. What if she lost her job over this? Charles was definitely not worth that in her opinion ~ but she certainly wouldn't put it past him to force her out of her comfortable position at KelMax.

"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!"

Imagining the snooze button was Charles' face, Heather jumped out of bed and slammed her hand down on top of the annoying clock. She looked wistfully at the soft bed for a few moments before deciding that she had no choice but to go to work and face Charles and his wrath.

As she stripped off her pajamas and tossed them on the floor, she wondered how she'd gotten herself placed in this type of position. She was twenty-seven years old, single, and broke. Her Bachelors Degree in English was getting her nowhere career-wise. Heather had graduated and expected to have little problem acquiring a well-respected career in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area. This was a huge city, after all, so the employment agencies were confident she would have a job offer quickly. Unfortunately, none found Heather to be an asset because she lacked the job experience that other candidates possessed. The damn degree wasn't worth the paper it was printed on!

So, six weeks after her graduated from West Texas A & M University, Heather found herself grateful to receive a job offer from KelMax. Sure, it was only a secretarial position, but it beat serving burgers to snotty little kids at Wendy's.

Her first day at KelMax was horrid. Heather dressed to kill in a tight black skirt and her favorite black blazer. Her white blouse was wrinkle-free and freshly laundered. The pink tourmaline brooch was her good luck charm (passed down from her mother) and she found that she kept touching it - as if the luck would simply rub off onto her through the constant contact.

Getting out of her car she spilled coffee on her skirt. Walking up to the building she had been clipped by a bike messenger and had stumbled on the curb - running her pantyhose. She had found her office and sat down in her chair approximately 12 minutes late. Mr. Charles Walker had glided into her office just as she sat down.

Heather had swallowed hard as she drank in her new boss. He stood about 6'4", very athletic build. He was draped in Armani and looked good enough to lick. Heather sat mesmerized until he looked through her and stated "You're late. Welcome to KelMax," and strode out of her office as quickly as he'd entered it.

"Great, he hates me already," she had mumbled, as she went to get his coffee.

**************************************************

In the six months Heather had been the secretary of Mr. Charles Walker, Mr. Walker had spent exactly ten seconds with her on a personal level. That was on her birthday, when her brother sent her a dozen white roses. Mr. Walker had come into her office to place his lunch order and had glanced briefly at her desk.

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

She had smiled and said, "Brother."

"Happy birthday," he had mumbled as he walked out the door.

Because the relationship really had not proved to be personal on any level, the dinner invitation had been a shock. She had been punishing herself on her Stairmaster to the latest episode of "American Idol" (which she had recorded the week prior) when the doorbell rang. Sweaty, and humming a tune from the show, she jogged to the door. Outside stood a boy of about 20 years old, holding a flat of pansies.

"These are for me?" she'd asked.

"Heather Layton?" he questioned.

She'd nodded and taken the flat. As she was about to shut the door the boy said, "Oh, there's a card" and had handed it to her.

She went into the living room and sat the flat of purple blossoms on the coffee table. Wiping the sweat from her brow with the towel around her neck, she leaned forward and smelled the sweet scent of the pretty buds. Fumbling, she opened the card:

"Have dinner with me Sunday evening. Pick you up at 7:00 p.m.

Humbly yours,

Charles"

Leaning back on the couch, Heather had groaned. She had three choices the way she looked at it. Her first gut instinct was to call him and tell him she had other plans.

"I'm sorry, Charles, but I have to wash my hair tomorrow evening"

Okay that idea was out.

She could always pretend she wasn't home when he showed up, and peek out from behind the blinds to get a look at him all slicked up.

"Chicken-shit" she scolded herself.

She had tapped herself on the forehead with the card. She had then looked down at the beautiful flowers on the coffee table. They really were sweet. Heather had never received flowers from a man before that was not a blood relation. Her brother sent her roses on her birthday each year. How sweet of him to choose pansies instead of roses like other men!

Suddenly had she bristled. Why was he asking her out all of the sudden? Mr. Charles Walker had never shown any interest in Miss Heather Layton in the six months she had known him.

**************************************************

"Why did I even go on the damn date? STUPID STUPID," Heather's shouts reverberated off the tile in the shower.

Heather hurried and dried off with her terry cloth towel. Jogging naked into the bedroom she stopped at the closet door and flung it open. What does a person wear on the day she lost her job? Frustrated at herself for thinking Charles would actually fire her over a date-gone-bad, she grabbed a blue silk shirt and her black skirt. As she dressed she tried not to think about the date.

The date really had been wonderful.

Then she lost her mind.

**************************************************

Heather had prepared herself for tonight so carefully. She had gone out shopping for a dress. SHOPPING! She went shopping for a dress for a date with her boss? Was that really proper? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was nervous and excited. Heather wanted to watch Charles drool. She wanted him to regret the past six months of indifference he had shown her in the office.

Showered and slathered with her favorite peach lotion, Heather blow-dried her hair. She was attractive, but she looked too young in her own opinion. Her long brown hair fell in soft waves across her back until she pinned it up on top of her head. She left tendrils hanging softly down the sides of her face. Expertly she applied her makeup, pressing her lips together softly after she applied her lipstick.

"Why are you glowing, Heather? He's your boss!" she scolded herself. She felt butterflies fluttering inside her stomach. As she slid on the tight red dress, she felt like the sexiest woman in the world. Affixing her earrings to her earlobes, she heard the tinkle of the doorbell. She slid on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and took one last glance in the mirror.

When she opened the door, Heather smiled sweetly into Charles' twinkling eyes. He was dressed as she'd expected - slick and handsome in his Armani suit. His blue eyes were striking under her porch light, the cerulean eyes that were roving up and down her body.

She thought to herself, "Thank God for my Stairmaster!"

"Wow," Charles breathed. He cleared his throat several times before choking out "Good God, Heather you look stunning."

Blushing hotly under his stare, Heather managed to stammer a weak "Thanks" before turning around to lock her door. Smiling again, he led her to his car. When he opened the door for her she laughed out loud.

"What's funny?" he asked her, confused.

She'd been thinking about all the times she'd followed him around the office and he'd shut doors in her face. This was the first time he'd treated her like a human being and not an office slave. Putting on a serious face she replied, "Nothing, Charles." She climbed into the SUV and he shut the door behind her.

After the initial awkwardness the date proceeded nicely. The drive to the restaurant was cordial. Charles asked Heather about her family and her days at WTAMU. He didn't mention work a single time. Heather was unable to ask him any questions because he shot them off like missiles.

The same thing occurred at the restaurant. Heather felt that she'd talked about herself through the entire meal. Yes, the jokes about the dry chicken were funny. The conversation was pleasant but focused entirely on her. Over the candlelight, Charles' eyes were always focused on her, his smile melting her heart.

They left the restaurant and went to a play at the Dallas Little Theatre called "The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez". Afterwards, they walked to a nearby park and discussed the play. Charles led her to a gazebo surrounded by cottonwoods. The park was quiet, save the sound of the crickets chirping their woes to the midnight sky.

Heather was feeling herself torn in two.

The evening had been wonderful - delicious food, fantastic entertainment, and a beautiful sky. By far this had been the most wonderful evening of her life, save the fact that Charles had yet to tell her a single thing about himself. Yes, he'd been attentive and sweet all night - but she had no inclination of what type of person he was because he had told her nothing personal about himself.

"Charles," she began.

He sat next to her in the gazebo and looked at her. She felt his eyes burning into hers and the action left her feeling naked and exposed. "Yes, Heather?"

Her gaze fell to her lap.

"Charles this evening has been wonderful. Thank you so much."

He smiled and whispered, "I'm so glad you came."

"The pansies were absolutely beautiful and just perfect. They were lovely."

His smiled broadened and his eyes softened. "So are you."

He lifted her chin with his fingers and looked deep into her eyes. She blinked up at him as he leaned down and kissed her lips softly.

It was her first kiss.

She didn't kiss him back.

She didn't kiss him back because she didn't know how.

When he felt the lack of response on her part, and felt how she had frozen in his arms - so he pulled away slowly.

"Heather, are you okay?" he looked concerned.

It happened so fast, she was humiliated. A single tear ran down her cheek as she looked into those beautiful cerulean eyes of his.

Then another.

Soon she was sobbing uncontrollably. Turning away, embarrassed, she choked out the words, "Please take me home."

Mistaking his confusion for anger, she watched him get up and hold out a handkerchief. She took it and dabbed her eyes. As he walked away, slowly enough for him to keep up with him, she followed. When they reached the car she opened her own car door and got in.

When he stopped in front of her house, Charles looked at her - watching her stare out the window. He looked at her looking away from him. He watched her pulling further and further away.

"Heather?"

She looked at him. Her eye make-up was smeared on his handkerchief in her lap, but she looked beautiful. Of course, she didn't know that.

"Goodnight Charles," she whispered.

She climbed out of the car and ran to her front steps as fast as her tight dress would let her. She opened the door, went inside, and shut it quickly. After she locked her latches, she leaned against the door and began sobbing again.

Charles sat outside in his SUV long after she'd gone inside, wondering what had happened.

**************************************************

At her office, on Monday morning, she sat in her car in the parking lot. Looking around she saw Charles' SUV in it's reserved space.

Wincing she got out of the car and walked slowly to the front doors of the KelMax building. She walked through the doors. She used the elevator to take her to her office on the fourth floor. Making her way through the busy central office, she glanced over at Charles' door and noticed that it was closed. Hoping that he was tied up in meetings all day, she gratefully reached the door to her own office and opened it.

On the desk was a vase.

In the vase was a lovely bouquet of red roses. The roses were beautiful, but the little purple flowers woven in the bouquet were an exquisite contrast. She approached the desk slowly and stared at the flowers. Had she said roses were not original? This was. This was too much.

She reached for the card. On the envelope "My darling Heather" was scrawled in a familiar hand. She knew whom they were from. She didn't need to open the card to figure that out. Taking a breath she did:

"Talk to me tonight. Take the day off. I'll be at your house at 7:00 p.m."

There was no signature.

No signature was needed.

**************************************************

Straightening the flowers on her coffee table, Heather glanced at the clock. She'd been glancing at the damn clock since she got home from the office. After putting the bouquet of fragrant blossoms on her table she'd soaked in the tub for about an hour.

Lying in the tub amongst the steaming aroma of apricot, she wondered what she could say to Charles to explain to him what had happened. Her virginity, her innocence, had never been an issue before in her life. Yes, she'd dated men occasionally in college. Unlike her friends, she was much more involved in her schoolwork than dating. Her goal was to finish school to make her dad happy. He'd been razzing Heather for years to finish school and start her life. So she did. She'd started life and had forgotten how to live it.

And now the one man she really felt a zing for was the one who would probably be too afraid to kiss her again.

Why hadn't she just told him that she'd never been kissed before?

"Because he'd have thought you were a prudish old maid, that's why," she scoffed before she submerged her entire head under the bubbles.

**************************************************

Heather was antsy. She couldn't sit in the house and hide - waiting for him to show up. At 6 o'clock she went out on the front porch and sat on her swing. She was dressed probably the most informal he would ever see her - Jeans, sweatshirt, and socks.

When he pulled up at 6:30p.m. She didn't smile as he approached the porch. He walked right up to her, sat on the swing, and took her into his arms without a word. He didn't kiss her - he just wrapped his arms around her to keep her from escaping.

She didn't struggle away from him, but instead looked up into his eyes while she contemplated what she could say. How could she explain herself to him?

"Heather, I know you're attracted to me or you wouldn't have gone out with me last night" he stated.

She nodded.

"Why didn't you kiss me back? Why did you freeze when I touched you?" he asked.

She blinked and stammered, "I . . . I . . ."

He looked deeply into her eyes and waiting for her to answer. He didn't push. He didn't prod. He simply waited.

She closed her eyes and said hurriedly, "I'm a virgin."

He sighed.

He pressed his forehead to hers.

"Baby, I didn't ask for sex I just kissed you," he reminded her with a smile.

His smile disarmed her. She wasn't prepared for him to make this into a big joke.

"Charles, you were my first kiss." She blushed as she admitted it. She looked away and he reached up to turn her to face him again.

He smiled as if he'd done something incredibly wicked. "Do you mean to tell me that you cried because I kissed you?"

She felt the mist hit her eyes as she became embarrassed all over again.

She shook her head dismissively, "No, I cried because I didn't do it right." She tried to pull away from him but he pulled her back towards him.

"How do you know you didn’t do it right if you'd never been kissed before?" He stared down into her blue eyes that were brimming with unshed tears, and pressed his forehead against hers again.

"If I'd done it right then you wouldn't have stopped," she tried to explain.

"Honey, I stopped because you froze up on me."

Looking up at him under her lashes she said, "Am I freezing up now?"

He smiled.

He leaned in.

He pressed his lips to hers softly. As she relaxed into him and let him teach her how to kiss for the first time in her life - she lost herself in him. She fell into a bottomless abyss of pleasure for the first time in her life.

Charles pulled Heather back far enough so that he could look into her eyes, and he smiled. When she smiled back, he whispered, " Did you like the flowers?"

Smiling wistfully she replied, "They're lovely. The most beautiful I've ever seen. The roses smell divine - the purple blossoms I've never seen before. What are they?"

"Heather for my Heather. Kind of silly huh?" he grinned, then kissed her quickly again.

"You're so original," she whispered against his lips, as she pulled him inside the house. When they reached the living room, he looked at the flowers. He then looked at her with a grin.

"Boyfriend?"

She answered, "Lover."

He raised an eyebrow and whispered, "Not yet he's not."

She kissed him softly and pulled him towards the bedroom. "We can fix that."