It's not fair that Clark is attempting to seduce Erin-I know that. And besides, it's not as if he has any real feelings for her. He's aware that Andy-his BOSS-is her boyfriend, but he's making a pass at her anyway. Douche.

I wouldn't have-didn't do that. And the feelings that are surfacing when she's around are really starting to scare me. More than an office crush, more than a little harmless lust. This might actually be, you know, REAL-and that thought is absolutely terrifying. But why would he do this to her? If I hadn't intervened, Clark would have hurt Erin. She would have been horrified by where the "audition" was headed. She would've torn out like a frightened deer, spent the night with Andy, and Clark would've gotten chewed out the next day.

Not that that wouldn't have been a great show, and one I would've enjoyed immensely, but I won't let him hurt her.

I'm not really there as Clark videotapes with a rather ill-concealed expression of disappointment. I'm just standing behind him, behind the scenes, watching as Erin and Andy joke around as they "audition". It's painful to watch, because it's proof of how cute, how perfect they are together, and how much they like each other. You can tell by the body language, the looks, the way they word the things they say, as if they're speaking in code. Proof that by falling for Erin, I'm screwing up just about everything here-that I'm to blame. I do condemn Andy, just a little, for trying to continue "auditioning" even when he knew that Erin was starving. But how can I complain at the chance to spend dinner with her?

Erin bounces out of her seat and gives a smile that makes my heart jump into my throat. God, she's beautiful...

I walk out behind her, and twirl my car keys around my finger as she gives a quick interview to the camera. "So where should we go?" I ask, as we stop in the elevator.

"Anywhere is fine. Do you want a hamburger?" She mutters.

"You okay?" I ask, and the doors open. She blinks up at me, as if she's surprised I asked, and smiles.

"Sure, yeah. Just tired. And hungry."

"There's a burger bar a couple minutes away from here. That sound good?" I suggest, and her smile gets wider.

"That sounds fantastic."

The car ride there is silent, and at every red light I hope she doesn't notice that I turn to look at her, admiring the way the colors dance on her skin. She fiddles with her hair and looks out the other window. God, she's beautiful!

She picks out a place to sit, right next to the window, and carefully fingers her food, placing a few fries on top of her burger. I laugh and ask her about it, and she says, "my foster brother, one of them, I guess, taught me. I think it was Evan."

"How many foster brothers did you have?" I ask, hoping I'm not prying, but to be honest, I want to learn all about her.

"I don't know," she mutters, as she looks at the cars driving by. "A lot."

"You were never adopted, were you?" I say, less a question than a statement, under my breath. She looks up, surprised.

"No," she whispers, and brushes her bangs away from her face. I decide to change the subject.

"So, uhm, what did you do over the weekend?" I ask, trying to be friendly. The smile that lights up her face says thank you.

She goes on and on and raves about her trip to the mall with a friend from one of her high schools. "She tossed the coin into the fountain, but then she realized it wasn't a penny-it was like this dollar coin-did you even know they made coins that were worth a dollar?"

I laugh, because she's pretty silly (but her friend seems sillier) and say, "well, I think they quit making them a while back."

"Wow," she giggles, her mouth full of burger. "I never knew that."

"Hmm, maybe they stopped making them with the manufacturing of five-dollar coins..." I say, and cock an eyebrow to show I'm kidding. She bursts out laughing, and I chuckle myself as I watch her. Her head is thrown back, hair falling out of her face, her hands falling onto the table with a light slap. When she's done, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are sparkling. For a moment I can't even breathe.

The drive home was a long one, when we continued out conversation late into the night. When she gets out, she says, "thanks, Pete. I had a lot of fun."

I grin at her and say, "anytime." She smiles, nods, and shuts the door as she opens her cell phone and speed dials someone. Just before the door clicks, I hear her say, "hey, Andy."

My heart breaks, just a little, but I stay in the driveway until she gets inside, turning back for one last wave.

To be honest, I'm still thinking of the sound of her laugh and her flushed cheeks, glittering eyes-that sweet face is the last thing I see before I fall asleep.