Wearing a thin but comfortable, blue satin robe, Daphne Morgan sat on the couch, her legs folded beneath her and a glass of wine in hand. The television was on but held little interest for the forty-two year old account executive, her mind too focused on what awaited her Monday morning, now only thirty-six hours away.
As much as she tried to distract herself, the short haired brunette couldn't dispel the thought that, at that time, she would be undergoing surgery to remove a small growth that had showed up in her most recent physical. Her surgeon had assured her that the odds were greatly in her favor that it was benign, but of course he couldn't say it with absolute certainty until after it had been removed and biopsied.
"Just relax and enjoy the weekend," Dr. Humphrey had said at her pre-op physical yesterday afternoon, "and try not to dwell on it."
That had proved easier said than done. She'd gone to a movie earlier in the day, just to get out of the apartment, but couldn't even say now what the film had been about. Even the dinner she'd had at one of the best restaurants in the neighborhood had gone less than half eaten. The phrase 'last meal' had popped into her head and killed her appetite.
It might not be so bad, Daphne told herself, if she had someone to share the waiting with. But, desiring privacy, she hadn't told anyone at work about the surgery, not even her boss. As far as he knew, she was just taking a week off, a little vacation to give her some down time after putting together back to back deals over the last month. Given the backlog of unused comp time she'd accumulated over the last year, he could hardly complain.
Not that he ever had a reason to do so. Daphne had always been successful at work, putting in whatever hours it took to get the job done. The downside to that, however, was that it left her little time to develop a large, much less close, circle of friends.
Oh, there was always her ex-husband, Nathaniel, of course. They'd managed to maintain enough of a cordial relationship after the divorce that at the very least he'd offer a shoulder to lean on. That was if Nat and his new wife weren't currently a thousand miles away on a real vacation.
In addition, there was Amanda, her closest and sometimes, she felt, only real friend. The blonde haired accountant, who lived just a few floors below her, would happily offer that shoulder as well. But experience had taught Daphne that telling Amanda would only make it worse. As many things as the two women had helped each other through over the years, being sick wasn't one of them. Amanda didn't do 'being ill' well.
No, it was just going to be her, the bottle of wine and whatever mindless drivel was on the TV. At least there was another bottle of wine in the refrigerator, she reminded herself, one that she could open after she finished the one on the counter. Then she could just sleep Sunday away in mindless oblivion. As plans went, she didn't think that a bad one.
An hour later, she was making good headway on that plan, half the first bottle already gone, leaving her with a rather nice little buzz. For the first time all day, she was finally able to, partly at least, to put her upcoming surgery from her thoughts.
Daphne had heard the double-ding of her apartment's doorbell, but thought at first that the sound had come from the television. When it was repeated a minute later, she realized that it was indeed real and, glancing at the clock on the mantel, wondered who in the world it could be. It was, after all, nearly nine- thirty.
Glancing through the peephole before undoing the lock, Daphne saw the side view of a young man wearing dark brown pants and a blue and white short- sleeved shirt. Initially, she was sure he must've rang the bell to the wrong apartment, but when he turned back toward the door, she recognized the dark haired and bearded face of Tyler Russell, one of the firm's interns. A twenty-one year old who had just finished college the previous June, he was quite possibly the last person she could've imagined showing up on her doorstep on a Saturday night.
Daphne could've easily spent the next half hour speculating as to what he was doing on her doorstep. Instead she took the direct approach and simply opened the door and asked. That she was hardly dressed for company didn't occur to her until she saw the reaction on his face to the outfit she'd been wearing. By then, there was little point in worrying about it.
"I'm sorry to be showing up so late and unannounced, Ms. Morgan," Tyler said after a long moment's hesitation, pulling his eyes from the dark nipples visible through the material of Daphne's robe. "I tried calling ahead but your phone kept going to voice mail."
Daphne hadn't missed his eyes' gaze, automatically tightening her wrap, not realizing that not only did that make her nipples even more prominent, but it accented her cleavage as well. Once she did realize, it was again too late to do anything about it. He'd already seen what he'd seen.
"I was actually here earlier this evening," he continued, having come to the same conclusion that Daphne had in reference to her outfit. "Mr. Wilson had sent me over with the papers from the Myerson account. Evidently you forgot to sign them before you left yesterday. I didn't get any answer then, so I figured I'd just go have some dinner and come back afterwards. But then my car battery died and I had to wait for one of my friends to come over and give me a jump."
Tyler's comment about voice mail made Daphne realize that she'd never turned her cell phone back on after turning it off at the movies. Furthermore, she had indeed forgotten to sign those papers before leaving for her doctor's appointment yesterday. It was lucky that Bob Wilson usually came in on Saturday mornings and had discovered the oversight.
"Won't you please come in?" Daphne said as she opened the door all the way and stepped aside.
As she closed the door behind him, Daphne made a mental note to send Bob an email commending Tyler's perseverance in making sure that the Myerson papers were signed. It was bad enough that the kid was making little more than minimum wage during his internship; now he was putting in extra unpaid hours because of her mistake.
By the time Daphne turned around, Tyler already had the papers out of the small shoulder bag he was carrying, holding them out for her to take. She did so and, taking them over to the small desk by the entranceway, signed them.
"I'm really sorry that you had to go so far out of your way," Daphne said as she handed the small pile back to him.
"It comes with the territory," Tyler said as he took it and slipped it back into his bag.
"Still, I'm sure a handsome young man like yourself has better places to be on a Saturday night," Daphne replied.
Tyler smiled at the comment, even as Daphne wondered what had prompted her to make an observation like that at all. Not that it wasn't true, he was quite handsome, but it certainly wasn't something she would've commented on at the office.
"I really didn't have any plans," Tyler quickly said, making Daphne think he had done so to alleviate any sense of imposition she might have felt.
"No girlfriend?" she unexpectedly heard herself ask.
"No, not anymore," Tyler answered. "We broke up a few months ago."
Tyler and Cheryl Parker had dated most of their senior year at college, but had come to a parting of the ways soon after graduation. She'd taken a job in another city and had no interest in a long distance relationship. Since then, a lack of free time and limited financial resources had precluded his correcting what he had originally thought would be a temporary condition. So much so that he eventually just gave up on it for the time being.
Up until two weeks ago, if asked the question, Tyler simply said no when asked if he had a girlfriend. The change in response had come after one of the other male interns, Roger Mark, misinterpreting his apparent lack of interest in the opposite sex, suggested they have a beer and get to know each other better. Thinking he could use a friend at work, Tyler had readily agreed.
