Chapter 3

It was a month later. Denise and Stan had been on six dates now and 
were firmly established as real friends and not just as work colleagues. 
Denise chuckled in her mind about being 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend', 
but they both didn't really think of it that way.

At least, Stan didn't.

Denise found that she was thinking more and more about the way 
Stan held his chin in his hand sometimes, or his strange habit of 
whistling some unknown tune, often out of key, when he was thinking. 
Her own past relationships made her reluctant to consider anything 
closer, however.

On the plus side, Stan had ventured out of his depression and his 
colleagues were profoundly grateful. Elizabeth, in particular, was 
pleased to see her surrogate son looking and acting happier again.

It was an improvement professionally, as well. Last week, Bob had 
mentioned this to Stan, who sheepishly admitted that he'd been in a 
funk for a long time. Still, he'd told Bob, "I'm taking life a day at a 
time. Today I'm fine. Yesterday I'd been fine. Tomorrow? We'll see."

- - - - - - - - - -

Another design review meeting, and once again it was Anne's project. 
Stan found himself paying far less attention than he should have to the 
details of the latest design proofs and changes. He was much more 
interested in the hazel eyes, blonde hair and elfin features of their 
presenter.

The subject of his attention was either unaware of it or, more likely, 
ignored it. Stan managed to stay professional enough to take the 
necessary notes and ask some pertinent questions, all of which were 
answered in a positive, knowledgeable and self-confident manner that 
told everyone there - and especially Stan - that of course everything 
was in hand and correct.

Anne's colleagues in the design team were definitely junior partners in 
this design, even though some of them had much more experience. 
Actually, Stan had heard one of them telling another that, "I hate 
being that woman's gofer, but God, she's good!"

There was a discussion of timelines. The first 'silicon' was due back 
from the wafer fab six weeks after delivery of the design data. Then 
they had to allow another couple of weeks to have it packaged and 
returned as testable chips.

Anne loftily told the meeting that she'd be ready for evaluation in eight 
weeks, the data was ready to send now. No one was going to say nay 
to her opinion and the meeting broke up after agreeing to send the 
new chip design for fabrication. Stan thought he saw a gleam in Anne's 
eye that hadn't been there earlier, but she caught him looking, and he 
broke eye contact immediately.

After his customary, "Thank you everyone," Stan left to get on with 
the rest of his day.

- - - - - - - - - -

Elizabeth had been watching Stan for years and thought she knew 
something.

"Well, have you asked her yet?" she teased across the desks. Stan 
looked at her, completely at a loss.

"You've been thinking of someone and for a change it's not Caron, is 
it? I can tell."

"Elizabeth, I don't know what you mean. Denise and I are friends, 
nothing more," answered Stan.

"I never said a name," Elizabeth answered, quietly. "But if it's not 
Denise, who is it that's got you all introspective and quiet." She 
paused a moment. "Stan, you're not relapsing, are you?"

"Actually, I wasn't thinking of Caron. I was thinking of Anne."

"Hmm?"

"Anne Berkely, in the Design Group."

"I know who she is, I didn't know you had any interest in her, that's 
all."

"Well, I don't," Stan said, "but when you asked, I was going over the 
meeting this afternoon. She's the lead designer."

"Right, that's all you were thinking about her for, wasn't it?" Elizabeth 
arched an eyebrow at him.

Fully on the defensive now, Stan said, "She's very attractive, you 
know. I am allowed some lapses into fantasy!"

The two friends shared a laugh. However, Elizabeth worried inside. 
Denise should have been on his mind, not Anne - Denise would be 
upset if she knew. Well, Elizabeth wouldn't be the one to tell her, not 
yet anyway - after all, Stan was right, a simple fantasy meant 
nothing.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following Wednesday, it was Stan's turn to drive. That afternoon, 
Denise asked if they could go for a meal instead of just a drink, "'cuz I 
didn't have time for lunch today." Stan agreed, because he couldn't 
think of an excuse not to.

"You make the reservations, Stan. I'm like putty in your hands 
tonight!" she joked.

Stan didn't think much of the joke, but he waited until Denise left 
before his face fell. He looked over at his assistant.

"Elizabeth, you talk to Denise, don't you?"

"Yes, Stan?"

"Does she think there's more to her and me than friendship?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Elizabeth..." there was a hint of a whine in Stan's voice.

"Denise has just asked if she and you can go for a meal tonight. 
There's no need to jump to conclusions," Elizabeth calmly replied

"Look, we - I thought - Denise is - I dunno, we're good friends, but..."

Elizabeth looked at Stan calmly, but he could see the concern in her 
eyes.

"But friendship is all there is, for you. Is that it?"

Stan looked down, "Yes, she's great, but..."

"But she's not your girlfriend," interrupted Elizabeth. "Well, like I said, 
you're jumping to conclusions. But if you're right, you know you're 
going to have to tread carefully, Stan. She's never told me about it, 
but I've seen that she's been hurt before. If friends is all you can be 
with her, but she wants more - 'Case Not Proven,' as they say in 
Scotland - you'll need to be very gentle in telling her."

Now, Stan looked up, "All I can do is play it by ear, I guess."

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan had made reservations at a local curry house for nine o'clock, 
allowing them time for a quick drink first. He picked her up at eight, as 
usual, and Denise was happy enough to chat away on their way and at 
the pub across the road from the restaurant.

Stan was paying just enough attention to Denise's chatter to get away 
with it, while thinking about the two of them. Looked at objectively, he 
supposed someone could have concluded they were dating - after all, 
they had been out for drinks for the last six or seven weeks. Oh dear.

They crossed over the road and walked into the restaurant. They were 
quickly seated - the place was nearly empty at this time in midweek - 
and the waiter asked about drinks. Both asked for water, and after it 
was brought to the table they chose their meals.

Denise chose a mild Korma, while Stan opted for a stronger Dhansak. 
As they waited for their food, Denise began chatting again.

"Raoul never liked Indian food," she said.

"Mmmm?"

"My ex. He said that all that spice was simply there to cover the bad 
meat."

"Have you ever eaten real Indian food?" Stan asked.

"I don't think so," Denise replied.

"Ghita, you know, in Production?" Denise nodded, and Stan continued, 
"She laid on a spread once, I can't remember what the occasion was. 
Several of us from work were invited. Huge amounts of food, looking 
and smelling thoroughly enjoyable. It was lovely, and you could tell 
that there was a lot of pride that went into it. I think that convinced 
me that, while there may have been a kernel of truth there once, the 
idea that Indian food is so spicy hot in order to hide the rancid meat is 
an old wive's tale, an urban myth."

"Oh. Well, Raoul was a fucking ignorant bastard at times."

Stan looked up at Denise in surprise. "That's the first time I've ever 
heard you swear. Even when you have some idiot telling you that "of 
course" he's remembered to 'File, Save' before switching off, you 
never swear. So tell me about Raoul, and why he was such a," and he 
curled his mouth into a wide grin, "fucking ignorant bastard."

Denise looked at him, then finished her mouthful and patted her 
mouth with her napkin while she collected herself. After a mouthful of 
water she said,

"Raoul was witty, handsome and charming. He was excellent in bed. I 
thought he was all I could dream of. Trouble is, several other women 
were led to believe the same thing."

"Oh." Stan said, flatly.

"Putting it simply, Raoul couldn't keep his dick in his pants if he saw a 
woman he was attracted to. He was attracted to a lot of women, too. 
In the end, I found out about six of them. 

"We were not engaged or anything, but Raoul had given me a bracelet 
- and it gave me great satisfaction to walk in on a dinner he was 
having with one of his Other Ladies, take off the bracelet and lay it on 
the table next to her plate. I told her that it, and he, was hers now - 
unless Sandra, or Reyna, or one of the others wanted him.

"I walked away, but I heard her slap his face before I got out of 
earshot. I was very, very satisfied to do that, but when I got home I 
cried and cried. I'd loved him, we'd been together for four years, and 
though we'd never said anything I was sure he loved me back. Then 
he goes and breaks my heart."

"I'm very sorry," Stan said, quietly. "I shouldn't have pushed the 
issue."

"No, no, that's fine, friends share. I'm not going to let it spoil the 
night!" she said, but Stan could see she was being brave. Denise's 
eyes moistened. Stan changed the subject to some gossip from work, 
and no more was said of Raoul.

That night, Caron's concerned dark eyes told him he'd have to be 
careful. Elizabeth had been right - Denise was vulnerable, if she 
thought there was more than friendship possible - and there wasn't, 
not from his side - she could get badly hurt.

Before he went to sleep, Stan thought about tomorrow's schedule. He 
had a few routine things to do, then in the afternoon there was a peer 
review meeting. Anne would probably be ripping some poor guy's 
brain, as well as several week's work, apart.

His last thought was that it was unusual for him to think about work at 
all while at home.

- - - - - - - - - -

"I missed you last night!" Elaine said as he walked through the door.

Stan laughed, "Yes, we went for Indian food instead."

"As long as you two had fun, that's all that matters!" Elaine told him.

Stan walked through to his desk. "How'd it go?" asked Elizabeth, 
grinning. Stan's demeanour told her most of what she wanted.

"Nice meal. She told me about Raoul."

"Hmm?"

"Not here. Have a coffee with me in a few minutes, I'll tell you then." 
Elizabeth agreed, and they turned to professional matters.

An hour later, Stan still hadn't been able to get away, but finally it 
looked like he could take a break. He caught Elizabeth's eye and they 
walked together to get their coffees.

"Did you know that Denise had a long relationship go wrong?" he 
started.

"Yes, I remember. I don't know any details." Actually, Elizabeth was 
wondering which relationship.

"Well, she thought that Raoul was The One, you know? Then she found 
out he was cheating on her, multiple times. She broke up with him 
immediately, but it broke her heart. I think she'd been hearing 
wedding bells, but it turned out he was just using her."

"God, poor Denise," Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. "You know this 
means you'll have to be very careful with her. Stan, you have to tell 
her if you don't want more than friendship. Otherwise she'll think 
you're leading her on."

"I'm not!" Stan said, with a little too much force.

"Shhh. I know, Stan. But you know that's how it might look?"

Stan sighed. "Yes, I know. It already looks like we're 'Dating', doesn't 
it?"

Elizabeth laid her hand on his, flat on the table.

As Elizabeth answered, "Yes, Stan. Stan, you have to tell her!" She 
realized that Stan's eyes were tracking someone behind her and 
quickly glanced over. "You do like Anne, don't you?" she grinned.

"Of course I like her. Half the company likes her, probably more - just 
about all the guys and half the women."

"Stanley! I shall forget you said that," Elizabeth said, with mock 
outrage.

"Sorry Elizabeth." 'But you know it's true,' he thought, 'she's enough 
to make a gay man straight. She's way out of my reach.' Still, he 
couldn't keep a grin from his face.

At lunch, that day, Elizabeth was once again sitting with Denise. They 
chatted about this and that, and then...

"How did your date go last night?" Elizabeth asked, her face carefully 
neutral.

"Very well! We had a nice meal, chatted away - just lovely!"

"Don't go too fast, Denise. I don't think Stan's ready for that, yet. 
You're starting to think of him as your boyfriend, aren't you?"

Denise dropped her eyes to the table, "Yes, I think I am."

Then, she looked back up into Elizabeth's eyes, "Is that wrong?"

"Denise," Elizabeth said with compassion, "as I said, I don't think 
Stan's ready for that. You're his friend that he goes out with once a 
week." She looked past Denise into the distance. "It took me a while, 
too." Her gaze returned to Denise. "You'll end up hurting both yourself 
and, I think, Stan. He'd blame himself if you got hurt, without knowing 
how to solve the problem."

"So you think I should cool it a little?" Denise asked, almost in a 
whisper.

"I'm sorry, Denise, but yes. For the moment. I think you'll know when 
he's ready to go further.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was the following Wednesday afternoon. Stan and Denise had 
spoken since the restaurant but neither had talked about what was on 
their minds. Denise realized she had to confirm something.

 "Stan?"

"Yes, Denise?"

"Shall I pick you up at eight for a drink at the Mitre as usual?"

"That'll be good Denise. See you then," and Stan turned back to his 
work. 'Well, there's nothing like a dismissal,' she thought.

Stan barely noticed.

Just before going home time, Anne strode in to confirm the due date of 
her design with Harry, the Materials Controller. Stan looked up, and 
followed her with his eyes as she entered, made her enquiry, nodded 
and left. She never glanced Stan's way once. 'Just as well, or I'd have 
blown my cover,' he realized. 'Better snap out of it.'

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise and Stan were awkward with each other that evening. Denise 
had picked him up as usual in her StreetKa, but they'd hardly 
exchanged a word on the way, both wanting to say something but 
neither knowing how to start.

They got their drinks, said "Hello!" to Elaine and settled down at a 
table.

After a couple of minutes, Denise looked up at Stan.

"You first," she said.

"Um?"

"Look, it's obvious we both want to say something. You go first."

"Okay."

He paused for a moment longer.

"Denise, I think I ought to tell you something. I'm not really ready yet, 
not for a, well, a relationship."

She grinned at him for a moment, and then went serious.

"I had a chat with Elizabeth, too."

"I rather thought you might have," he said. "She's a very perceptive 
lady. What did she tell you?"

"That you weren't ready for a relationship yet."

"Very perceptive."

"Uh-huh." She laid a hand on his. "She's looking out for us both, Stan. 
She doesn't want to see us get hurt, and if she's right - and it seems 
she is - then trying to go further than friends would hurt both of us, 
since you can't do it yet. So, friends it is. Good friends, who go for 
drinks and cheer each other up."

Denise seemed to have a little difficulty getting that last bit out.

Stan cleared his throat, "Well, on that note, who's that with Elaine?"

Denise looked, and giggled.

"Oh, that'll be her latest."

The best Stan could manage was an interrogative grunt, "Uh?"

Denise burst into laughter. She got herself under control, and 
beckoned him closer.

"You didn't know about Elaine? I think she's had half-a-dozen 
girlfriends since I've known her."

Stan simply gaped, shut his mouth, and said, "How come I'm always 
the last to find out these things? I swear the gossip mill deliberately 
goes right around my desk without stopping."

Denise, still giggling, said, "That's 'cuz we all want to protect you from 
the nasty, horrible world out there. We don't want you to know the 
terrible truth!"

Mock grumbling, Stan said, "But I don't want to be protected!"

Denise told him, "It's for your own good, you know!" and disintegrated 
back into laughter again.

When the two of them left, Elaine waved, and Stan waved back. He 
couldn't help but look at the two women. Now, it seemed obvious - 
they were very close together, their body language wasn't that of 'just 
friends' at all. 'Not that you're a great student of body language,' he 
silently chided himself.

On the drive to his home, Denise asked,

"You're okay with Elaine, aren't you?"

"Sure. Her lifestyle, her choice. I just didn't know."

"Good. I don't want to see her get in any trouble."

"She's doing nothing wrong, Denise. Why should she get into trouble?"

Denise had just reached his house, so she pulled over and parked.

"No, it's not wrong, but it's still unusual and frowned upon by a lot of 
people. She could be made very unhappy if someone, who shall 
remain nameless but whose initials are Stanley Hinch, were to open 
his big mouth and say the wrong thing."

Denise continued softly, "But you won't do that, will you Stan, because 
you're a good guy, not a thoughtless Neanderthal."

"Like I said, I've no problem. One of Caron's colleagues was gay, he 
and his partner had a ceremony shortly before she died. I wished them 
well and the best of luck. Luck because there's still prejudice, but they 
were obviously in love with each other. That's what matters."

"Yes, Stan, it is. Well, thanks for the evening." She looked him in the 
eye, "Good friends, right?"

- - - - - - - - - -