Chapter 3

"So do you think you can get a night off?" I asked nervously. After talking with Dr. Bergerud I had waited another couple days before calling Heather. It was Friday night and I had hoped the two of us could go out. It was a spur of the moment thing but I was still disappointed to learn that she was working on a Friday night.

"I can't," she answered. "I don't make much at the bar, but it's the only spending money I have."

Heather had mentioned she was taking day classes at one of the local community colleges. I was surprised to find out she was still in school, but she explained that she had worked as a secretary for two years after high school and was just recently getting back into school. She was on scholarship, so her tuition and room and board were taken care of, but she had little time or energy to get a part-time job.

"Selling flowers two or three nights a week is about the best I can do," she explained. "Most places looking for waitresses want more hours than I can give them, and so this is it. I'm sorry... you know I'd love to go out with you, but I really can't take the time off tonight."

"That's okay," I said, trying not to sigh audibly into the phone. "What nights are you free?" I asked.

"Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday nights are the only nights I don't work, and sometimes when it gets busy I'll add a night if I get caught up on my studying. Like next week I'm working Monday instead of Friday, but that's just a one-time thing."

"Oh," I replied. Sunday nights were generally bad for me because that's when I did a lot of prep work for my own classes, and Monday wasn't any better. Wednesday was a possibility although I had hoped to see Heather before then. Once I had decided to make the call and ask her out the extra waiting was going to drive me crazy.

"Sorry," she said and I have to admit it was a little pleasing to hear the disappointment in her voice. It sounded as if she really was upset that we couldn't go out right away. Maybe this girl really liked me!

"That's okay." I looked at the clock on my kitchen wall. It was just after four o'clock in the afternoon. I had just gotten home from grading more papers and I knew Heather needed to be getting to the bar fairly quickly. "I should let you go, so you're not late for work."

"I guess," she said glumly. "Thanks for calling though. So are we on for next week?"

"I can't," I explained. "I'm singing in the graduate student chorus and we have a performance next week before Christmas break and I'm pretty booked every night with rehearsals."

"Okay," she sighed. "Why don't you call me after break then?"

"I will definitely do that," I said. I was feeling a bit more relaxed about things, happy that this didn't seem to be a case of the first option not working out so the whole relationship fell apart. "I will definitely give you a call."

"Cool," she said happily. "I do have to go though. Call me later?"

"Definitely. Have a good night at work," I said.

"Yeah... whatever... as if I enjoy it there! Oh well, that's just my luck, I guess. Talk to you later." Heather hung up the phone softly and I went back to the living room and plopped down onto the couch, planning on wasting another evening watching cable television. I noticed "American Beauty" was on one of the movie channels, which immediately let me to the scene of one of the actresses lying on bed surrounded by rose petals. My thoughts then flashed to the image of Heather lying naked on the bed and a plan started to form in my mind.

Rising from the couch I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. Pablo's has excellent chicken wings and I sometimes call for take-out so the phone number was stuck to my fridge. I dialed the bar, happy that as always, Billy answered the call.

"Hey Billy," I said. "This is Daniel Parker. One of the girls who sells flowers there... Heather Morris is her name. She works tonight and I was wondering if it was possible to buy out her basket."

"What?" he asked.

"Well, what happens if she sells her entire bunch of flowers? Does she get more or is she done for the night?"

"The girls usually take off if that happens, but they generally try to go through at least three or four dozen roses, so we're talking close to a hundred and fifty bucks for everything."

"Great," I said. "Listen, Heather doesn't come in to work for close to an hour. Do you take credit cards over the phone?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Because here's what I want you to do..."

Twenty minutes later a girl I didn't know knocked on my door. I knew from her skirt and tuxedo shirt that she was another of the flower girls from the bar. I opened to let her in but she just handed me a large bundle wrapped in paper.

"Here's your purchase," she grinned. "Be sure to get them in water pretty soon, okay?"

"I got it," I laughed.

"Good. So, this is pretty cool of you. Have a good night, okay?" the girl smiled. I nodded and the girl spun in place, preparing to head down the steps.

"Hang on a second," I called as she turned to leave. "Is everything set at the bar?"

"Yep! Gotta get back there so I don't miss it. Have fun!" she yelled over her shoulder again as she practically skipped down the front sidewalk to her car.

I watched her go for a moment then quickly turned back inside. I had a lot of work to do before Heather arrived.

Right on time, I thought as I heard someone knocking at my front door. If everything had gone according to plan this would be Heather. I checked myself in the mirror one more time before opening the door.

"Hi," I said, fighting to hold back the look of surprise on Heather's face as she realized where she was. My instructions to Billy had been to tell Heather she had a delivery to make and I noted she was indeed carrying a bundle of half a dozen roses in her hand.

"Um... hi," she finally said. "What's going on? Are these for you?" she asked, holding up the flowers to me.

"Nope. They're for you," I said. "Did you want to come in?"

"I can't," she said. "I have to get back to work."

"Just come on in for a second," I said, holding the door open for her to pass by me. "Then you can decide if you want to go back."

"I don't want to," she answered with exasperation. "But you know I have to... we talked about... this... oh, wow."

Heather had stepped inside and saw the results of the past twenty minutes' labor. The bundle the flower girl had brought over had contained three dozen roses and I had spent nearly the last half hour filling anything I could find to hold them. Luckily a neighbor lady had been kind enough to loan me four vases, and the roses were now arranged throughout the living room. The scent was nearly overpowering, and judging by the look on Heather's face she had no idea what to think.

"Those are for you too," I said as she took in the sight before her. I took the half dozen roses from her and quickly placed them in one of the more empty vases.

"They're beautiful," she whispered. She spread out her arms and wrapped me in a hug. I could feel the swell of her breasts pressing against my chest as she held me close. "Thank you," she said and reluctantly broke the embrace. "But I still have to go."

"No you don't," I grinned. "These are your roses."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean these are what you were supposed to sell tonight. I bought you out over the phone. You're completely sold out. You have no more roses to sell. If you go back to Pablo's, Billy is just going to send you home."

"You did this for me?" she squeaked, her eyes wide and her mouth open in shock.

"Well, I was hoping it would work out that I did it for the both of us," I grinned. "So, what are you doing tonight?" I asked as casually as possible. The look on Heather's face was priceless, but I was still unprepared and barely managed to catch her as she threw herself into my arms.

"I think I'm hanging out over here," she laughed. Before I could react she planted a kiss on my right cheek before slipping out of my arms.

"Good," I laughed. "I was hoping you'd see it my way."

"Oh, I definitely do," she answered as she walked around the room, smelling and rearranging the floral arrangements. "What did you have in mind?" she asked, looking down at her work uniform. "I'm not sure if I'm dressed appropriately for anywhere but work."

I looked at her typical outfit - tight black skirt, snug white men's tuxedo shirt with the top three or four buttons undone. She had not worn the cummerbund or tie, but she still looked gorgeous. Heather caught my eye and blushed as I allowed my gaze to wash over her body.

"You're perfect," I said. "Hungry? I made dinner if you are."

"I'd love it," she laughed and took my hand as the two of us walked into the kitchen.

Dinner was nothing more than broiled pork chops and baked potatoes with a side of mixed vegetables, and a fruit cobbler for dessert, but with Heather in the room I felt like I was in a fine restaurant.

"You did all this?" she asked as she bit into her second bite of meat. "It's delicious."

"Ah, it was nothing," I said, waving my hand in dismissal. "It took all of about five minutes to get ready and maybe twenty to cook. Put the vegetables on the stove to heat, season the meat and throw it in the broiler and toss the potatoes in the microwave. Simple, easy bachelor's food."

"Well, it's still delicious," she said.

During the meal the two of chatted about various things. My life as a graduate assistant, her days in class, various jobs we'd had. But of course the conversation eventually coming back around to the bar.

"So how often do you come in?" she asked as she leaned against me. After dinner we had watched a movie on television and were now seated beside each other on the couch. I had grabbed the cobbler out of the oven and was sitting carefully - a heating pad in my lap - as I fed each of us spoonfuls of the hot dessert.

"Not too often," I said. "Once a week maybe, for a couple drinks. It's a good stress reliever."

"I'm glad you came in," she said.

"Why's that?" I asked, grinning as I forced another bite into her mouth.

"Enough," she laughed.

"Okay," I said, putting the cooled pan on the end table. "So why are you glad I came in?" I asked a second time.

"Because I really enjoyed the meal tonight," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh," I answered, pretending to be upset. "What about the company?"

"The company was even better," she answered, leaning in toward me. I recognized the look in her eye and bent my head lower, quickly closing the distance between us. Our lips met in a soft kiss, gentle and sweet as we explored each other with our mouths.

"Wow," I said as we broke apart. "Thanks for that," I said.

"No problem," she grinned. She relaxed against my side just looking dreamily at the dozens of flowers scattered around the room when her eyes lit on a picture frame sitting on an end table beside the couch. "Who's this?" she asked, picking it up to show me. "An old girlfriend?"

"No... that's my sister. Natalie."

"She's cute," Heather said. "Really pretty eyes."

"Is she?" I asked rather naively. "I guess it never occurred to me."

"Why not?' Heather teased. "You mean you had this gorgeous babe walking around your house and you never even noticed?"

"She's five years younger than I am," I pointed out. "She was only thirteen when I went off to college, and I haven't really seen her since. Why? Do you think I should have just jumped her bones, sister or not?" I asked.

"I might have," Heather teased, leaning over to kiss me soundly on the mouth. She moaned as our lips met and soon our tongues were fighting together, dancing against one another as our hands roamed lightly over each other's bodies. The kiss finally broke and we were left panting lightly.

Heather appeared ready to lean in for another go-round when she happened to glance over my shoulder and saw the clock.

"What?" I asked when I saw a look of disappointment flash over her face.

"Damn," she muttered sadly. "I've got to go. It's getting close to eleven o'clock and I need to get home. I still have a lot of studying to do and a paper to rewrite."

"Don't you normally stay at Pablo's until it closes?" I asked, assuming she worked until two in the morning, or at least until final call. "Why the rush to leave?"

"I am on most nights," Heather explained. "But I have a lot of regulars come in and buy from me on Fridays, so I usually manage to get out of there at a good hour. I'm sorry," she said.

"Well, if you must, you must," I sighed theatrically, bringing a smile and a giggle to Heather's face.

"I must," she agreed, bending as she stood up from the couch to kiss me once more. "But I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too," I said. "We should do this more often."

"No, we shouldn't," Heather answered and I grimaced inside.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I thought you enjoyed it."

"Oh God, I did... very much. But I can't let you do this again."

"Do what?"

"This!" she said, sweeping her arm out and I realized she was talking about the roses.

"Oh, yeah. That. I won't," I promised. "I don't know if I could afford to date you if that was the case. Don't worry," I said as Heather's face broke out in a worried expression. "It was most definitely worth it."

"Really?" she asked, a grin breaking out over her beautiful face.

"Really," I said, leaning down to kiss her on the tip of her nose, causing her to giggle softly.

"So we'll do this again?" Heather said.

"Definitely," I answered. Heather began to gather her things, pausing at the door as I handed her a vase full of roses. "These really were for you," I said. "Even if they aren't nearly as pretty."

"You're too sweet," she answered as she left. "Don't forget to clip the ends."

"What?" I asked.

"The roses. You have to keep cutting the ends of the stems. If you don't they'll wither up and die."

I looked around and groaned as I saw I still had close to three dozen roses scattered around my living room. What had I gotten myself into?

"You know... I meant it. I really did buy all these for you," I said in an attempt to free myself from the added responsibility. To my disappointment Heather just laughed.

"Nice try," she giggled. "Although I suppose I could help you out."

"You want some more?" I asked hopefully. "Take as many as you want! How many?"

"No, I don't want more. These are wonderful," she said, smelling the bouquet she held in her arms. "This is more than enough for me. But I'd be happy to come over and we could cut the stems together."