Part 2 (1/2)
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?”