Ch 3 - Breakfast
Helen woke up late for work. She dressed in a hurry and barely took the time to put on any makeup. She rushed down the stairs because she didn't want to wait for the elevator. On her way down the last flight of stairs to the garage, she heard a snap and felt herself starting to fall. She managed to grab the stair rail in time to catch herself. "Oh hell, what else can go wrong?" she asked loudly, her voice ringing through the stairwell. She sat down on the steps and pulled off her wounded shoe. She picked up the wayward heal and attempted to reattach it to the shoe, but the injury appeared to be permanent. She slipped off her other shoe and started back up the stairs toward her apartment.
When she arrived back at her apartment, she noticed the blinking light on her answering machine. She walked over and hit the play button and then began to search her closet for another pair of high-heeled shoes. Buried inside her crate of shoes, she managed to find another black pair of heels and slipped them on. Realizing that she had not been paying attention to the message and that the voice was somewhat unfamiliar, she hit the replay button and sat down to listen.
"Hello, is this the same Helen Parker that I met in the laundry room last night?" the message began. "If it is, please call 555-RYAN and let's discuss breakfast. If this isn't, then I am really sorry that I called you so early. Please accept my sincere apology. Thank you and goodbye."
Helen quickly picked up the phone and dialed the number, "Please tell me that you didn't call every Helen Parker in the book," she blurted out when the voice at the other end said "Hello?"
"Of course not!" Ryan calmly replied, "I just wanted to be sure that you would call right away."
"Well, it worked," she said in a calmer voice. "Now what was that you said about breakfast?"
"I'd like you to come over to my apartment and eat it."
Helen couldn't help smiling at that remark. She stifled the urge to reply, "Eat what?" Instead she answered, "Which apartment is yours?” even though she knew exactly which one was his.
She changed out of her suit and pulled on a thin cotton shell and a short denim skirt. She felt a certain rush getting ready to meet Ryan for breakfast. She picked up her phone and dialed her office number. She checked through her voicemail messages and then called her boss's extension.
"Hello, Joshua Radford."
"Josh, listen, I won't be in today. Our boy just called and asked me to meet him in his apartment for breakfast." Helen could hardly contain her excitement.
"I thought that you blew it last night and would have to start over?" he responded.
"So, did I, but I guess I was wrong, wasn't I?" she said as she pulled on a pair of pink heels that matched her sweater. "Can't talk for long or I'll be late. I'll call back later and let you know how things went."
Helen hung up the phone and rushed out the door for the elevator. She decided again that the stairs would be faster, but this time she removed her shoes. She bounded up the two flights of stairs and down the hall. The door opened while she was busy putting her shoes back on. She straightened herself up and smiled at Ryan as he grabbed her elbow to steady her.
"Glad you could make it," he said as he led her into his apartment.
Ryan's apartment was immaculate. "I must remember to ask him who cleans his place," Helen thought as Ryan dragged her across his shining wooden floors to his dining table. He left her long enough to pull out a chair for her and practically forced her to sit down. The place setting was simple and inexpensive, but sparkling clean; Helen wondered if he had just bought them.
Ryan poured out two cups of coffee and two glasses of orange juice and then disappeared momentarily into the kitchen. He reappeared carrying a frying pan and a spatula. "I hope you like omelets!" he announced as he placed one on each plate.
Helen was in heaven at that moment; the orange juice was freshly squeezed, the coffee wasn't burnt and the omelet was the most incredible one she had ever had. "Where did you get the idea for a ham and pineapple omelet?" she found herself asking.
"Pizza" was his brief reply. Helen decided that she really didn't need to know what pizza had to do with her omelet. She had never met a man who could cook before. Thinking about his skill as a chef made Helen blush with embarrassment as she remembered how poor were her own cooking skills.
Helen's blush brought a smile to Ryan's face and Helen only felt more embarrassed. She tried to curtail her blushing by forcing a smile, but it didn't work. Ryan reached across the table and, touching her cheek gently, said "You are beautiful when you blush." His remark only led to further blushing on Helen's part. Ryan laughed, "Do you blush in bed?"
Helen took offense at his rude question and started to rise from her chair.
"I'm sorry," Ryan protested, "Please don't go."
Helen glared in his direction. Her reasons for being there had been forgotten. She had succumbed to the charms of a man so unlike any she had ever known. And in one careless moment, he had become all of them. She didn't know whether to go or stay. Ryan continued his apology, "I invited you here to apologize for last night and here I go ruining what was a nice breakfast. I've never dated anyone as beautiful as you before."
"Dated?" Helen asked, "Did you say 'dated'?"