Summery: Christine meets someone while shopping for Carlotta, and Erik sees a new side to Stephen Dulane...

Erik, the "Date Phantom"

Encountering Prince Charming

Christine groaned as yet another jazzy rendition of "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" filled the loud speakers in the Saks Fifth Avenue store she now stood inside. She rarely shopped there, but because it was known to be "classy", she figured it was as good a place, if any, to find a suitable bridal gift for her ex-roommate.

She was sure it would be simple; she was sure she would find something the second she walked in, something that looked gaudy and extravagant, but didn't exactly cost what something truly gaudy and extravagant would demand. However, her search was proving to be harder than she had anticipated.

It turned out that everything that did look gaudy and extravagant also cost the same as the real thing. And Christine had no intentions of spending a week's salary on a gift for someone she held no warm feelings for. As if to darken her mood even more, the store was blaring loud, obnoxious, Christmas music at every corner, something Christine truly detested as she insisted on waiting till after Thanksgiving for such holiday revels.

"I should have tried Macy's," Christine muttered to herself. She realized then that she was standing in the lingerie department, a realization that made Christine's stomach churn; the last thing she wanted to get Carlotta was something for the honeymoon.

"Um…e-e-excuse me?"

Christine's head shot up at the sound of a man's voice. It was coming from just over her shoulder, and she quickly turned around to see who was talking her, and felt her breath escape her as she gazed up at perhaps, the most handsome man in the whole wide world…

He was tall, with an athletic build, and was wearing a very expensive, but very stylish business suit. He had dark blonde hair, and the warmest pair of brown eyes that Christine had ever seen in her life. They reminded her of two steaming cups of warm mocha coffee, and there seemed to be this sparkle within them when he smiled. His smile was perfect; his teeth were clean and white, and his lips looked as if a sculptor had chiseled them from the finest marble. He was the first guy, in a long time, that had caused Christine to do a double-take.

"Hi," the man murmured, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Um…I know this is going to sound awkward, and I apologize for that, but…I um…I was wondering if you could help me?"

Christine realized just then that her mouth was hanging open, and she immediately closed it and swallowed the surprised lump in her throat. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel! If his hair was longer, he could certainly give Fabio a run for his money…

"Uh…sure…" Christine smiled, trying to sound perfectly calm and collected. Nothing wrong with helping an extremely attractive stranger with…well, whatever it was.

"Thanks so much," the man replied, his dazzling smile returning once more. "Oh, by the way, my name's Ryan, Ryan Channing."

"Christine Davis," she responded, taking the hand he extended to her and shaking it firmly. Ryan seemed to grin at this, although Christine knew it had nothing to do with her column. No one, outside of the folks at the magazine, knew her connection to New York Chique. To the general public, she was simply known as The Happy Single.

"Christine…that's beautiful," he murmured, his voice warm, like honey dripping off the comb. She smiled at him, although something inside her immediately started to raise a red flag…

"So," Ryan continued, his blush returning once more. "I um…I was hoping you could give me your advice?"

"Ok," Christine shrugged, thinking there was no harm in that, forcing the red flag her psyche was attempting to rise, back down. "How can I help?"

"Well…" Ryan seemed to redden even more, and he bit his perfect lower lip as he looked down at the items on the table before him. "This is going to sound strange but…I'm trying to figure out which of these garments…would be best?"

Christine's brow furrowed and she looked down at the table before him, her eyes widening as she realized he was indicting to several satin baby-dolls which lay there. The red flag sprang back to life.

Ryan, however, seemed to realize this. "Oh! Oh gosh, it's not what you think—"

Never a good sign, Christine thought.

"No, please, I…forgive me, I know this may seem really sleazy, but I'm not…that is…oh crap," he sighed, looking down at the floor with embarrassment. "I'm trying to find a gift for my sister," he finally confessed, his cheeks glowing more brightly than ever before.

Christine arched a dark brow at this. "Your sister?" The red flag refused to go down, even for a second.

"Yeah," Ryan sighed, somewhat sheepishly. "You see…her um…her wedding is this weekend…and I'm trying to find her a gift, and…well…I waited till the last minute, and everything left on the registry is taken, so…" he ran a hand through his hair, looking for someone to throw him a life raft out of this embarrassing situation.

"So you thought you would get her some lingerie?" Christine finished for him. She had to admit, she did feel sorry for the guy, being in this sort of embarrassing situation, however she could not stop thinking how…strange…it was, for a man to be buying lingerie for his own sister.

"Yeah," Ryan murmured, still looking extremely embarrassed. "And…well…the truth of it all is," he looked down at his feet and mumbled his next words all in one breath. "You look to be exactly her size, so based on what you choose, that's what I would get."

WARNING! WARNING!

Christine stared at the man in front of her, and instinctively, she began to back away.

Ryan looked up and noticed the look of horror on her face, before groaning and covering his handsome face in his own hands. "Oh God, this came out all wrong…you probably think I'm some sort of pervert…my God, I…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for disturbing you…" he turned around then and began to walk away, his body slumped in a look of absolute defeat.

Christine watched him turn and leave, and her heart immediately went out to the guy. "Wait…" she called out, to which he stopped, and slowly turned to face her. She bit her lip, wondering what she should do now. Truth of the matter was, she didn't trust this guy. Sure he was charming, and extremely handsome, but this all seemed so strange—asking a woman for her, well, basically her breast size so that he could buy a piece of lingerie for his own sister—she was sure she was not wrong in finding that peculiar, if not somewhat creepy.

However…what sort of guy would willingly put himself through this kind of embarrassment…and risk getting his face slapped, if he were not being genuine?

"Look," Christine sighed. "If you want some advice, this is the best I can offer," she pointed to the cashier's line just over her shoulder. "I'm also shopping for a bridal gift, and I have just decided that the best gift I could possibly get for someone is in fact…a gift card. So that's what I recommend."

Ryan seemed to smile at this, and murmured a "thank you", before joining Christine in the cashier's line. He still looked embarrassed, and his face was still bright, but he did seem to have calmed down a bit.

"So," he attempted to make small talk. "Do you also have a sister that's getting married?"

Christine shook her head, although a smile crept to her lips. "No…she's hardly that. She's more of a…um…"

"Friend?"

"Pain in the ass are the first words that come to my mind," Christine bluntly stated.

Ryan seemed somewhat shocked by Christine's statement, but quickly smiled, seeing the laughter in her eyes. "I take it that this is not something you wish to attend?"

"Am I that transparent?" Christine giggled.

Ryan joined in her laughter, and smiled down at her, his eyes gazing upon her with such tenderness. It was Christine's turn to blush now. Suddenly, the voice of the lady at the sales desk brought Christine back to reality, and she quickly made her gift card purchase, before stepping off to the side to allow Ryan to make his.

Ryan couldn't help but smile, so happy that she had chosen to wait for him. "Thanks for this suggestion. It's probably the smartest choice I'll make all day."

Christine returned the smile; although she could not shake the way he kept looking at her. "I'm glad I could help…" she reached out to shake his hand one last time. "Well, congratulations to your sister, I hope the wedding is wonderful."

Ryan looked down at her hand and quickly took it, although instead of shaking it, he tenderly held it in his own. "Where do you live? Perhaps we can share a cab—"

WARNING! WARNING!

"Um…I…I'm actually going back to work," Christine lied. She had just met this guy; the last thing she wanted to do was tell a complete stranger where she lived.

"Oh, well, I would love to give you a lift there—"

"It's not that far from here, besides I like to walk."

Ryan frowned slightly, and noticed that she was pulling her hand out from his grasp. "But it's raining—"

"I'm sure it's stopped by now, and if not, well, a little rain never hurt anyone, right?" she laughed, although it was obviously forced.

"Christine, I would love to buy you a drink to show my appreciation—"

"I'm sorry, I really have to go, but it was very nice meeting you," she turned on her heel then, and began to hurry away.

Ryan stared after her retreating figure and his frown only deepened. "But Christine…" he silently cursed himself. "Can I at least give you my number? I would still love…" but she had already rounded the corner, and was out of sight.

"Damn it!" Ryan swore, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He had been so close! He stalked over to the sales desk and slammed the gift card back down on the counter. "I'd like my money back, please."

The cashier gazed up at him with confusion. "But you just—"

"I'd like my money back, please," Ryan demanded once more, the light-heartedness that his voice had carried, disappearing altogether. The woman behind the desk nodded her head before quickly working at redeeming his cash from the card. Ryan sighed and gazed once more in the direction that Christine Davis had gone.

So much for the 'fake sister' idea.

Erik studied the man who sat across from him in the limo. They had been driving around for at least twenty minutes, and in that time span, Erik had gotten to know much about his new client, Stephen Dulane. He knew all of Stephen's hobbies and interests, from watching all three programs of CSI, to his love for hockey and the New York Rangers. He knew all about Stephen's past history with women…which wasn't much; the last date he had been on was five years ago, and that had ended with the woman telling him to do the world a favor, and jump off the Brooklyn Bridge. Based on all the information that Erik had gathered, Stephen was a man who lacked confidence, didn't think much of himself, and always second guessed every decision he made. This, of course, made it impossible for Stephen to date women, at least to have successful dates with women. And then there was the issue involving one particular lady…

"So…tell me about Meg Giry."

Stephen, who had been looking down at the floor of the limo, shot his head up at the mention of Meg's name. His face immediately reddened, something Erik could only smile at. "W-w-what do you w-wish to know?" he asked, his voice shaking with nervousness.

Erik leaned back in his seat and put his pen down. "Take a deep breath," he instructed. "First thing you need to do is relax; you can't ask Meg out if you look as if you're about to have an asthma attack."

Stephen gasped at those words, and quickly began to breathe in and out at a rapid pace. "You…you r-r-really think I have…a chance?"

"Well, that depends," Erik folded his arms across his chest and focused his intense amber gaze at the man in front of him. "Tell me about Meg Giry, and why you like her."

Stephen slowed his breathing and began to look down at his feet once more, but a quick sound from Erik, and he immediately brought his eyes back to the masked man's. "Well…I met her about…three years ago, the day after she took possession of the magazine from her mother, Antoinette Giry. I've been on New York Chique's accounting team for about six years, so I was no stranger to the magazine. I remember coming in to the company meeting; I always pride myself with being punctual when it comes to meetings, but that day…I don't know, it just seems that everything was going wrong. My alarm didn't go off, I couldn't get a cab, I was missing some important files…nothing was going right, and I knew that I could get fired for this, as I knew this was an extremely important meeting! So I was rushing, running really, to the building, up the stairs, and into the main office, and if I had been looking where I was going, I would have realized that someone was coming around the corner—"

"Umph!"

Stephen fell backwards, the files he was holding flying up into the air. "Oh no!" he had all the files sorted by date and alphabetized for the new editor-in-chief, and now they were lying in mixed heaps across the floor.

"Oh gosh, are you ok?"

Stephen didn't realize then that a woman was talking to him. He looked up to see the person he must have run into…and he swore his heart stopped beating.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Correction; he was sure she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

She was petite, shorter than him, which said a lot, since he was not as tall as most men. She had long, curly copper-gold hair that seemed to fall in waves about her shoulders. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green he had ever seen, and her smile…was it possible for a woman to glow like a beacon with such a smile? It was the warmest, friendliest, and most welcoming smile he had ever seen. She was radiant…and she was talking to him!

"Are you ok?" she asked once more, concern lit in her emerald eyes.

Stephen couldn't believe it; this beauty, this goddess…she was asking if he was ok, when he had obviously plowed right into her!

"I…I'm f-fine," he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and immediately began reprimanding himself. "I…I'm so sorry, I should have been looking where I was going—"

"Oh don't worry about it, no harm done," the woman giggled, her laughter sounding like beautiful, sweet music. "But your papers, oh gosh, I'm so sorry, look what I've done—"

"No! I mean, please, it's not your fault," Stephen immediately stopped her from attempting to pick them up for him. "Please, you don't need to do that, it was my own clumsy fault."

"Nonsense," the woman ignored his attempts to stop her, and continued picking the papers up and shuffling them until they looked perfectly even. "This is the least I can do," she grinned.

Stephen carefully took the stack of papers from her hands as if she were giving him a precious jewel. "T-t-t-thank you…"

The woman smiled, before rising to her feet, and reaching down to offer her hand. Stephen stared up at her, feeling unworthy of accepting her hand, and quickly scrambled to his feet on his own, inwardly chastising himself for not rising sooner so that he could help her up.

She grinned up at him, the top of her head coming to rest just under his nose. She really was quite petite! "Take care of yourself," she smiled, before turning and continuing in the direction she was heading before colliding with him. He watched her walk away, taking notice of the grace in which she moved. Who was she? What was her name? Would he ever see her again?

A few minutes later, he came stumbling into the large board room, apologizing for interrupting Antoinette's lecture, before finally finding his seat, and working very hard to avoid the eyes of his boss, who he could feel burning into his back for his tardiness.

"And without further ado, gentlemen…" Antoinette grinned, holding her hands out to her side. "May I introduce my daughter, and the new editor-in-chief to New York Chique magazine…Marguerite Giry!"

The room erupted into hearty applause, and Stephen quickly joined in, but his clapping stilled as her beautiful face came into view once more. The woman he had met in the hallway! It was her! SHE was Antoinette's daughter?!? SHE was the new editor-in-chief?!?

"Hi," Meg greeted the room, that same beautiful, warm smile, radiating off her beautiful face. "And please…call me Meg."

Meg.

What a beautiful name. Stephen was sure he had never heard a more beautiful word in his whole, miserable life…

"And I knew…I just knew, from that day forward…that I was doomed."

"Doomed?" Erik asked. He had been enraptured with Stephen's story, and found himself frowning as this simple man, who was obviously head over heels in love with this beautiful and successful woman, as he talked about being "doomed".

"Yeah," Stephen sighed, his eyes now falling to the floor once more. "I mean…she's Meg Giry! She's beautiful, talented, successful—basically everything that I'm not," he groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I'm nobody…and don't even deserve to share the same air that she breathes."

Erik's frown only deepened. "Based on what you just told me, though, there was clearly some sort of connection between you two. After all, she did seem to care about your well being when you fell on the floor. And she did smile at you and acknowledge you…"

Stephen hadn't thought of that. He remembered her smile, how could he not? But Meg was simply being herself; wonderful, kind, caring Meg, who always showed respect and compassion to all the people she came in contact with. "Meg was only doing what she would do to anyone in that situation. That's what makes her so special and wonderful…she has the biggest heart of anyone I know."

Erik smiled at this. "Which means you do have a chance."

Stephen could feel the hope rising within himself, but he knew it was impossible. "No…I mean…she would never go for someone like me…"

Erik frowned once again. "Well, not with that sort of attitude."

Stephen blushed. "I just mean, you should have seen her last boyfriend! That guy was…well, everything I'm not," he muttered with disgust, although Erik was quick to notice something light up in Stephen's eyes, and it wasn't personal repulsion. "That asshole…he threw away the most wonderful gift a man could ever have!"

Erik was intrigued by this new side to Stephen Dulane, and found himself leaning forward. "What do you mean Stephen? Are you talking about Meg's last boyfriend?"

Stephen's jaw tightened. "She gave him everything, including her heart! But he just…he threw it all away, for…for…for some bimbo!"

Erik was growing more and more fascinated. "Her last boyfriend cheated on her?"

"Yes!" Stephen exploded. "He had the most beautiful woman in the world by his side, and she loved him! She loved him and did everything for him, but he didn't respect her, he didn't realize what a precious gift he had! He treated her like garbage and threw her love right back at her, as if it were nothing!"

Stephen Dulane was fuming; his face was red, his eyes were lit with vengeful fire, and the muscles in his jaw and throat were tense. He looked ready to punch the glass out the limo's windows!

"I can see the passion you have, Stephen," Erik softly murmured. "The passion you hold for this woman, and I feel the respect and admiration you have for her as well. But let me ask you one last question…are you happy?"

Stephen looked confused by this question. "Happy?"

"Yes," Erik explained. "Happy that she's single once more…?"

Stephen felt the rage begin to leave, only to be replaced by intense sadness. "No…" he answered, his voice so soft, it sounded like a whisper. "No, I'm not happy."

"Why not?" Erik asked, his own voice not much louder.

Stephen looked back into Erik's eyes, and swallowed the emotional lump that was in his throat. "Because…that means her heart is broken. It means that she's upset, and sad…and…and I've seen her, I can tell how horrible it's been for her…and…" he let out a sigh and took a deep breath before continuing. "I just want her to be happy. She's a good person, and deserves to be treasured and loved."

"Even if it's by another man?"

Stephen nodded his head, although it pained him. "Mr. Henri, I've accepted my lot in life. A man like me doesn't stand a chance with a woman like her…but all that matters is that she finds love and happiness with the right guy."

Erik leaned back in his seat once more and gazed at the man before him, a smile slowly creeping at the corners of his face. "I disagree, Mr. Dulane," he murmured. "A man like you does stand a chance…and when it comes to Meg Giry finding the right man…I can earnestly assure you, that I'm sitting right across from him."

Stephen stared wide-eyed at Erik, the masked man's words slowly resonating. "You mean…you really think…?"

"Mr. Dulane, it would be a great honor to work with you, and to help you win the heart of Meg Giry."

If Stephen didn't have his seat belt on, he would have fallen right out of his seat. "Oh…oh Mr. Henri! I…I don't know what to say! I…just…thank you, sir, thank you!"

Erik grinned and reached his hand out, to which Stephen quickly grasped and shook most heartily. "You are most welcome…" he looked down at their hands. "You still need to work on that handshake, though."

A musical sound filled the limo, and Erik groaned as he realized it was coming from his small mobile phone. "Excuse me," he apologized, before taking the phone. Only one person had this number. "I'm busy with a client, Jonathon."

"Sorry to bother you, Erik, but—hey! Are you talking with Stephen Dulane?"

Erik winced slightly at his friend's manners. "Yes, and we're rather busy."

"Wasn't I right? Isn't he a great guy?"

"Yes, Jonathon, you were very right, as always," Erik groaned sarcastically. "Now if you will excuse me—"

"Wait, I did have a good reason for calling you!"

A weary sigh escaped Erik's lips. Best to let Jonathon say his peace, or else his calls would never end. "Go on…"

"Well, as you know, tomorrow is Wendy and mine's anniversary…and we're having a party with some close friends, and…well, it would mean so much to me, Erik, if you could be there."

Erik frowned at this, and immediately began to feel nervous. "Jonathon—"

"I know, I know, you don't care too much about going out in public, but this will be a small, intimate gathering of some of our closest friends, and we have an important announcement to share, and…it would just mean so much to me, to Wendy…to both of us, if you're there. Our marriage would not have happened, if it weren't for you, buddy. So please…will you attend?"

Erik shifted his weight somewhat nervously at Jonathon's request. His friend was not wrong; Erik did not care to be out in public too much, hence why he did his client interviews in the limo. He would go out in public on occasion, but mainly at night, and normally to places where the crowds were small. He hated the looks people gave him when they saw his mask, and the self-consciousness he tried so hard to suppress would rear its ugly head once more.

But this was his friend. And he knew Wendy, she was a wonderful person, and he had been the best man at their wedding for crying out loud! The least he could do was this…

"Where is this party happening, and at what time?"

Erik swore he could hear Jonathon's smile through the phone. "Thanks man, this really means a lot to us. The party will be at eight o' clock, at the place where I proposed to Wendy—"

Erik blanched for a bit. "The Plaza Hotel?"

"Hey, you remembered! Yeah, in the restaurant downstairs. We've reserved a small, private, dining room off to the side, so don't worry, when I say intimate, I mean it."

Erik was grateful for that much. "Alright, I'll see you at eight."

"Thanks so much Erik! Like I said, this really means a lot to me!" Erik listened as the dial-tone filled his ear, before he finally turned the small phone off.

"Sorry about that," Erik apologized to Stephen. "That was an old friend, my first client actually. Tomorrow is his seven year anniversary."

Stephen's eyes widened at these words. "Seven years? Wow!"

Erik smiled slightly to himself. "Yes…and with any luck, seven years from now, you too, will be holding a similar celebration with Meg."

"And then, he asked me what 'size' I was, because he wanted to purchase some lingerie for his sister, who apparently is the same size I am!"

A gasp filled Christine's ear. "You're kidding me!"

Christine shook her head, even though she knew her friend couldn't see the action through the phone. "I wish I were, Meg, but no…the guy really wanted me to tell him, right then and there, what my cup size was."

"Oh wow…" Meg gasped once more. "Do you think he was telling you the truth?"

Christine made a face. "I confess, at first I thought he was, even if it is a creepy story. I mean, that's not normal, right? I'm not alone with thinking this, right? A grown man, buying lingerie for his sister, for her wedding night?"

Meg quickly agreed. "Yeah, that is strange, you're not wrong. But what kind of guy would make up a story like that?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Christine explained. "I mean, you should have seen the embarrassment on the guy's face, he looked like…like a lost puppy, or something. I nearly fell for it too, but then, after I helped convince him that a gift card was his best possibility, he asked where I lived so we could share a cab!"

"Oh, well, that's nice—"

"Nice!? No Meg, it's creepy! I mean, it's just like that movie…you know, the one with Antonio Banderas where he stalks Rebecca De Mornay? Handsome, charming stranger who seems perfect…except for the fact that's a raging psychopath! No, once he asked me that, I saw right through his game."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, before Meg's voice finally said, "no offense, Chris…but don't you think you're being a little too paranoid?"

"Paranoid!? Meg, if some random stranger asked you where you lived, and wanted to see where your apartment was located, you're telling me that's not the least bit creepy?"

"No, but…I'm just saying that…maybe you shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions about people, you know?"

Meg's words threw Christine. While she was convinced that the handsome blonde man was up to no good, she did know that it was a fact that she had a hard time trusting people…men in particular. It just seemed, based on all the letters she received, month after month by countless women who had lying, cheating, sniveling boyfriends who they once believed to be Mr. Right, and based on Meg's own series of horrible boyfriends…and based on her own bad experiences…that men in general…were not creatures to be trusted. At least not with one's heart…

"Hey," Meg broke the silence. "Tell me about tomorrow, are you excited?"

Christine made a face. "As excited as I would be for root canal."

Meg laughed. "I'm sure it won't be that bad."

"You don't know Carlotta," Christine grumbled. "Do I have to do this? Can't you stop being my boss for this, and just be my friend and sympathize with me?"

Meg laughed some more, knowing that despite Christine's displeasure, the young woman would go through with it. Over the last three years, Christine had done a lot of things for the magazine, even things that she did not enjoy or want to do. She was a true team player.

"Just stay for an hour, I'm sure you'll get enough material for the magazine from that. Now, on to more important matters…what are you going to wear?"

Christine groaned once more and collapsed atop her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I have no clue…but whatever it is, I'm sure whatever I own is not nearly fancy enough for it. Did I tell you? The party is being held at the Plaza Hotel!"

"The Plaza?" Meg gasped.

"Yeah," Christine grumbled. "In the restaurant downstairs. Apparently Carlotta rented the entire place out, save for one small dining room where another group of people are having their own party."

Meg laughed. "Maybe you can sneak in there?"

Christine joined in her friend's laughter. "Maybe I can…I'm sure whoever is in there will be having tons more fun than myself."

"True," Meg grinned. "And who knows, maybe your own white knight is waiting there for you, as well."

Christine laughed at this and rolled her eyes. "Ha! I have more luck encountering the mythical 'Date Phantom' than meeting my own Prince Charming."