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A night of clubbing takes an unexpected turn.

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."


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