I repeated, "Dinner in twenty minutes. If I don't see you in the kitchen in five minutes, I'm going to find out how ticklish you are."

He eyes popped open. "You wouldn't?"

I grinned and replied, "I don't think you want to find out."

I closed the door and went back to the kitchen. A minute later I heard her door open and she went into the bathroom.

A few minutes later she entered the kitchen. She had brushed her hair that had regained some gloss from the shampoo. She was wearing a T-shirt with Daffy Duck on the front. The shirt was short exposing two inches of her flat stomach. I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. She had jogging shorts on and was barefoot.

She smiled shyly at me and said, "I really want to thank you..."

"Holly," I interrupted, "No serious discussion tonight. Just relax and enjoy the food and we'll talk in the morning. Okay?"

She nodded her understanding.

"My name is Phil. I'm twenty-five; never married, but close twice before I got smart; I'm six-feet tall and tend to get fat when I don't work out in the gym. I barely got through college because I never saw a party I didn't like.

"I fall in love often, but cupid only nicks me with the arrows since I fall out of love just as often.

"I can tell a million jokes, but sometimes get tongue tied when asked serious things by pretty females."

She giggled, "I'm twenty-three and..."

I interrupted, "That's all I want to know tonight—you're twenty-three, pretty and female."

"Not even curious?" she asked.

"Oh very curious, but now it's time to cook and eat. We talk tomorrow. I'll be out with the steaks. You set the table, get out the salad and dressing. Take the potatoes out of the oven in five minutes and get the sour cream and butter out of the frig."

She laughed and gave me a mock salute, "Yes Boss."

"And when you're done, join me on the balcony with the wine bottle. My glass will be very empty by then."

The steaks were done and we went to the kitchen. I poured the first of the red wine into a clean wine glass for Holly and we ate. I purposely bought very large steaks. Holly had said they were way too big for her, but once she started eating, she never stopped. Her steak, potato and salad with more red wine all disappeared. I thought, "She hasn't eaten in days."

Finally the meal was done. She looked at me embarrassed and said, "I made a pig out of myself. The steak was wonderful, but I didn't even try to talk to you."

I reached for the wine and poured each of us a half glass which killed the bottle. I made a mock toast with my glass held high, "To a great steak dinner, cooked by an expert, and assisted by a person of beauty."

She giggled and then her eyes filled with tears. "Phil, that was a wonderful meal and I really want to..." and she yawned.

"Oh shit; I'm sorry to yawn at you," she slightly slurred.

"Am I still the boss?" I asked.

"Yep," she giggled.

"Stand up, go to the bathroom, and go to bed."

I walked away leaving the door open. Minutes later I heard the door to the bathroom close, and then the toilet flushed. Almost twenty minutes later she walked into the kitchen wearing the same T-shirt and shorts. I noticed this time she was wearing a bra.

She sat down without talking. A large glass of milk and another of orange juice was in front of her. I put down a plate with three pieces of toast each topped with two poached eggs accompanied by about eight slices of bacon. I put a couple of bagels on a side plate with cream cheese next to her.

She said, "This is way too much food for me."

Fifteen minutes later the food was gone.

She looked embarrassed. "I ate like a pig again."

"You ate like someone who hasn't eaten right for a while."

She blushed again.

"Phil, I want to thank you..."