Culture Shock Part 2

Nothing about this man could possibly be unpleasant. Meeting him was like finding a comfortable, missing slipper to match the one you had.

Cynthia rinsed and dried her hands, then hung the dishtowel on the edge of the sink. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"That sounds good. You know...it's funny. When I go out to dinner, which is very rare, I always enjoy a cup of coffee afterwards, but at home, I never make the stuff. Too much trouble for one cup, I guess."

"I know what you mean. There are times I'd love to bake a cake just to have a good smell to cover the musty odor of this old building, but I know it would get moldy before I could eat it all. I'm not one to waste things, But I do make a pot of coffee every morning, couldn't make it through the day without it. I'm not about to become one of those people who stand in line at one of those fancy coffee places every morning. Number one, I don't have the time, and number two, I can't afford it." She poured water into the drip-style coffee maker, plugged it in, then wiped the counter.

"Take a breath, Cynthia," she muttered. "You sound like a babbling idiot."

"Did you say something?"

She turned and shrugged. "No, not a thing." She turned back to the cupboards. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Black."

Her precious china clinked against the counter as the fresh brewed aroma wafted up to meet her. When the bubbling noise subsided, she filled two cups perched atop delicate saucers and carried them back to the sofa.

Alex glanced around the room. "How come your apartment looks so much better than mine?"

She set the cups on the coffee table. "What do you mean? Your furniture can't look worse than this stuff." She scanned the peeling walls. "I even considered doing some repainting myself, but when I asked the super about providing the supplies, he just rolled his eyes at me. I took it as a no."

Alex scratched his head. "It's not the furniture or paint, it's the... Okay, I got it! It's the ... cleanliness. I think I answered my own question."

She sat next to him, handed him coffee and grinned. "You know what they say? Cleanliness is next to G.o.dliness."

Alex looked awkward holding a dainty saucer in one hand while he held the steaming china cup with the other. "Well, in that case, I don't think G.o.d even knows my name. I'm not filthy, just not a very tidy guy when it comes to picking up. I used to be neater, but in this place, it doesn't seem to matter." He took a small sip.

"Tastes just as good as Starbucks," he said, waggling an eyebrow as he set his cup down.

Cynthia held her cup to her lips and blew away the steam. She hoped her closeness didn't make him uncomfortable again. "I hope I'm not crowding you. I could have sat in the chair, but it's actually worse than the man-eating couch. I've been pierced by its broken springs more than once."

"I like you just where you are." His eyes sparkled. "If I gave you a different impression, I'm sorry because I didn't intend to."

Pleasantly surprised when he moved a little closer, she felt a surge of heat in her cheeks. Her mind echoed his sentiments. There was no place she'd rather be at the moment. She relaxed against the back of the sofa and sipped her coffee. She was about to say how much she was enjoying the evening when the lights blinked on and off a few times before darkness engulfed the room.

"s.h.i.t! The wiring in this dump sucks." The building superintendent commented on the flickering lights and hoped it wasn't a problem he'd have to address. Usually, the dimming meant that someone had blown a breaker, but on occasion the entire building went dark, and he'd have to trek down to the bas.e.m.e.nt and find out which switch had been thrown.

He sat, antic.i.p.ating darkness, but the lights stayed on. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew, I hate having to fix things. Sorry for whoever is having the problem, but they*re on their own."

He picked up his newspaper and turned to the interesting continuation of the headline story, "Dead and Missing Women."

Chapter Two.

"Whoa, what happened?" Alex asked.

Cynthia wanted to swear but restrained herself. "It's that darn breaker. The old fuse boxes were replaced, but nothing has been done about the ancient wiring. The breaker switch trips every time I plug in one extra thing. I have no idea how this building pa.s.sed the code restrictions. Sometimes I actually see sparks fly when I vacuum."

His melodious laughter filled the darkened room. "Maybe you should slow down."

She poked him in the arm. "Very funny. I'm talking danger here, and you're making jokes." Despite the man-eating couch and the faulty wiring, the evening was still going far better than she'd hoped. She felt like she'd known Alex for ages.

"Do you know where the breaker box is?" he asked.

"Probably in the same place as the one in your apartment."

"Duh! Guess I should have figured that out. Do you have a flashlight?"

"In the kitchen drawer. I always keep fresh batteries there. It only took three or four times for me to learn they're a necessity at The Cairns."

She felt around for the coffee table and set her cup down. Rising, she groped her way into the kitchen to find the flashlight. She fumbled in the drawer where she remembered last putting it, and finally, her fingers closed around its familiar long handle.

The on switch wouldn't budge, but maybe Alex's strong fingers could make the darn thing work. She turned and started back to the couch and ran smack into him. The flashlight fell to the floor with a thud. "Yikes," she yelled. "I thought you were still over there."

"I guess I should have stayed." He chuckled.

She dropped to her knees and began feeling around in the darkness.

"Ouch!" Her head collided with his. "What are you doing down here?"

"Just trying to be helpful."

His warm breath fanned across her face as she rubbed the point of impact on her forehead. "Thanks, I guess."

"Eureka, I found it," Alex yelled.

"Great! Now, if we can make it to the fuse box without any further incidents, that would be nice." She hoped her voice carried her smile through the darkness.

While Cynthia held the light, Alex fumbled with the breakers inside the musty closet. Finally, after flipping each of them to find the thrown one, the electricity surged to life. Alex raised his arms toward heaven. "And the Lord said, 'Let there be light'."

"Thanks. You're pretty handy to have around. I've done it myself before, but I'm glad you were here."

"Maybe you should apply for the apartment superintendent's position. G.o.d knows we need a good replacement." She picked a safe topic but her mind fantasized about another scenario. Maybe staying in the dark would have been more satisfying. Would it be so wrong if they shared a kiss so soon? She snapped back to reality, hearing her mother's voice caution Cynthia about being a brazen woman. A first date is way too early for romance.

Alex held up a hand in protest to her suggestion. "Nooo! Not me. This building could become a lifetime commitment, and I'm not planning on staying here until I die." He returned to the couch, sat and downed the last of his coffee.

Hiding her disappointment, Cynthia put away the flashlight. "Would you like another cup? I'm sure what you just drank was disgustingly cold."

"No thanks. I'm fine."

She joined him on the couch. Tucking one leg beneath her, she leaned closer. "Talking about the super and his job...do you find him as non-responsive as I do?"

Alex nodded. "I think he's a lazy, no-good shirker. It's easier to fix things myself then have to keep calling him. He's no better than the one who used to work here."

"Oh, I didn't know the other one, but this guy has only been in my apartment once since I moved here, and that's enough for me. He gives me the creeps. He has those beady little eyes and looks like he hasn't bathed in weeks. I just keep my fingers crossed that nothing else breaks." She eyed her door. "Of course, I'm still waiting for him to come fix my deadbolt."

Alex rose. "Let's have a look at that. No use waiting for the super. Next time you need help, just call me." He bent and examined the deadbolt, flicking the locking mechanism. "Looks like you'll need a new one. You can pick one up at any hardware store. I recommend you do that right away so I can install it for you. You can never be too safe...if you know what I mean."

Cynthia grimaced. "I know...what's going on right now is way too close to home. I'll get a lock right away, and I promise I won't wait for the super."

Alex glanced at his watch. "Well, it's getting late, already eleven o'clock. Maybe I should get going."

Was that a note of reluctance she detected in his voice?

"I suppose if you have to leave..."

Was that a look of disappointment on his face when she didn't object?

Alex grabbed the doork.n.o.b. "Thanks for a nice evening. I really enjoyed myself. Next time, dinner will be my treat." He paused for a moment before opening the door.

Was he going to kiss her? Although a pleasing thought, she didn't want to move too quickly.

"Good night, Cynthia." His eyes held hers captive and his words deflated her dream.

Her mind raced. If he wasn't going kiss her, maybe she should kiss him. No! Absolutely not. That would be way too forward.

"Good night, Alex." She tried not to sound disappointed. "I enjoyed tonight too, and I'll hold you to your offer of dinner."

She closed the door behind him then did a happy dance. The evening must have gone well because he wanted to see her again. At least, he intimated he did.

Lurking in the shadows had become his habit. He ducked around the corner and waited for the man she called Alex, to unlock his door and slip inside. He grew tired hanging around outside her apartment, straining to hear their conversation and hoping no one saw him. They'd had quite a time tonight, the two of them. He'd heard enough to know that he'd have to make his move soon. She was just too charming for her own good.

Cynthia opened her eyes and thoughts of the previous night flooded her mind. Her mouth curled into a smile thinking of Alex, and she hugged herself beneath the covers. The faint aroma of his aftershave lingered on her hands, so she knew the evening hadn't been just a dream.

Rays of sunlight filtered through a separation in the curtains. Cynthia pulled an arm from beneath the blanket and swatted the dust motes dancing along the beam of light. She couldn't wile away time in bed all day with her thoughts lingering on time spent with Alex, so she threw off the covers and stood. Her body*s impression remained in the sagging mattress, but for some reason, she found nothing to complain about. Instead, she wanted to dance with glee. A little voice inside niggled her that maybe he hadn't shared the same feelings.

She shook her head with vigor. "I'll not feel any negativity today," she proclaimed, and grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed. She pulled on the chenille garment and meandered into the kitchen. While filling the pot with water and measuring out the grounds, she kept focus on the end table where the telephone sat. Every minute that ticked by without hearing his voice was torture. She rolled her eyes at feeling so invested in someone after such a short time. Was she being an idiot?

While waiting for her morning brew to finish, she washed, dried, and put away the leftover dinner dishes. She poured herself a cup of coffee and moved into the living area. Even the dingy furniture held more appeal this morning, and Alex's seductive aftershave lingered more heavily around the dilapidated sofa. She sat on the same cushion where she had sat last night and pretended he still sat next to her. "Girl," she chided herself, feeling like a foolish schoolgirl, "you are one sick puppy. Get a grip and drink your coffee! Maybe the caffeine will shock you back to reality."

She sipped from the hot liquid and slopped a little on her lap when the ringing phone startled her. She ignored the burning sensation in her hurry to answer.

"h.e.l.lo." Her heart race while she blotted the soggy spot on her robe and ma.s.saged the sting on her thigh.

"Good morning. This is Alex. Hope I didn't wake you." His s.e.xy voice raised goose b.u.mps on her arms.

Cynthia's heart skipped a beat. "Oh, Hi Alex! No, you didn't wake me." She tried to suppress the excitement in her voice. "I've been up for a while. I was just sitting here having my morning coffee." She stopped short of adding she was thinking about him and praying he*d call. Curling her legs up beneath her robe, she waited through a lengthy pause.

"I called to thank you again for last night. I had a great time."

"Me, too. It was probably the best Sat.u.r.day night I've spent in quite a while." So ask me out already, she agonized internally. Please, Please, Please.

"And to think our date all started with an exciting trip to the trash dumpster." He laughed and she forced a chuckle to avoid being rude. Was he calling to ask her out or just talk about garbage cans? She thrummed her fingers on the coffee table while leaning her arms on her knees.

"Yeah! Did I remember to thank you for the personalized tour?" Cynthia forced herself to say something to end the silence.

"Not a problem. Always happy to help."

Another pause.

Funny, they hadn't had a communication problem the previous evening, so why did they both suddenly become tongue-tied? She struggled to think of something unrelated to trash to keep the conversation going. She had to. If he called to ask her out, she sure didn't want him to lose his nerve?

"So, what are you doing up so early on a Sunday morning?" She wasn't about to let him hang up.

"Couldn't sleep. I can't quit thinking about the case I'm working right now, trying to piece it all together. Seems I always wake up early when I don't have to. Ticks me off! During the week, I have to drag myself out of bed, and here it is the weekend and I'm up with the sun."

Her curiosity piqued. "Are you by chance working on the case involving the missing women?"

"Yep, that's the one that keeps me up late and wakes me up early. What gets you out of bed?" Clearly, he wasn't going to discuss any details with her. Maybe that was a good thing. She didn't really want to hear anything that was bound to feed her fear.

"Oh, I've always been an early riser. It's the afternoons I dread. I tend to run out of steam around two-thirty. Gee, we make a great team. I can keep you awake in the morning and you can keep me from dozing in the afternoon." She rolled her eyes. He probably thought she was trying to hook him.

His laughter danced across the phone lines, and she imagined the twinkle in his eyes. "Are you offering to come over every morning and throw me in the shower?"

A image of his unclothed body flashed through her mind, and warmth climbed her neck. She swallowed hard at such out-of-character thoughts. "Only if..." She stammered, "you come by my office every afternoon and bring me strong coffee."

"Would you mind if I brought a handcuffed suspect with me on occasion?"

The shocked look of her co-workers flashed through her mind. "Well, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea after all. I can imagine the gossip in the office."

Dead silence ensued. "Are you still there, Alex?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm trying to work up the courage to ask you out. Is it too soon? It's been quite a while since I've been in the dating scene. I think I've forgotten everything I ever knew about it."

Cynthia leapt off the couch and did her happy dance around the coffee table. "No, it's not too soon." She faked composure and sat again. "I'd love to spend time with you again. Maybe you can tell me more about your work." She tamped down her eagerness, not wanting to frighten him away.

"Is lunch today a possibility?"

Her heart fluttered. "Let me check my calendar." Had she just said something so cliche? If he only knew how dead her social life had been until now. She paused a moment and rustled the newspaper on the coffee table. "As luck would have it, I happen to be free."

Chapter Three.