Disclaimer: I do not own Chris Jericho or anything else pretaining to World Wrestling Entertainment. I am just a fan; and I am not profiting from writing this piece.

Could Chris be any more nauseatingly perfect? My guess was yes. He had charmed his way into my small work-circle. The women were swooning; and my boss, as well as my boss's boss, was impressed by his worldliness. At this rate, he was a shoe-in for an invitation to come back next year. Goody.

I cringed at the thought of introducing Chris to Nick.

"Nick, current love of my life, meet Chris, the diabolical bastard that had me pining over him for the majority of my youth."

I had never spoken of Chris to Nick, but it looked like I was going to have to dig up the past that I had spent my twenties burying. I had high hopes that Chris would be gone before Nick arrived. I didn't feel like drudging up my past just yet.

I was sitting on Mr. Dalton's crowded leather sofa, peering between a multitude of waists and asses, to catch a few brief glimpses of Chris. He was currently being Mr. Chatty Kathy with some brunette tart from the marketing department. He seemed to be fond of brunettes. The first thing I was going to do tomorrow morning was dye my hair back to its original color.

"…Walk in a daze and weak with pain. Carry me back to life again…"

I shrieked. My ringtone! I looked up at Chris to make sure that he hadn't heard it from across the room. I didn't want the man to know that I was actually a fan of one of his many creative outlets—that would only add to his ego.

I read the caller identification.

"Jay, thank God," I answered with a sigh of relief.

I was greeted by a loud, obnoxious yawn.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled. "I forgot to turn my phone on whenever I got off the plane. I just now got settled in my hotel room. I thought I would call you before I hit the sack…And, for the record, when a man is thoughtful enough to send his high-strung baby sister a replacement date, he is not an 'insensitive prick.' You're welcome, by the way."

"He's not a date, Jay," I seethed. "He's Chris."

Jay chuckled.

"I haven't seen him in years. What on earth gave you the notion that it was okay to ask the man to do me a favor?"

"He's my best friend, and I can ask him to do whatever I want. Besides, I couldn't trust anyone else with you."

"I'm thirty-two years old," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "I don't need the birds-and-the-bees song and dance anymore."

Jay yawned again.

"Yeah, you see, I'm hearing that, Madison, but my brain is translating it to, 'I'm still just a baby, Jay. Please, protect me from the evil persons of your gender.'"

I laughed.

"So, how's it going? Are you having a good time?"

"If by 'good time,' you mean, am I enjoying sitting on the sidelines while Chris shamelessly flirts with half the women I work with?" I feigned excitement. "Why yes, I'm having a fabulous time."

"He's a man, Maddie," Jay muttered amidst yet another yawn. "Boobs, short skirts, and cleavage are like catnip. He's naturally going to gravitate towards some slut that shakes her ass in front of him. So you can't expect him to be with you every second…If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a wee bit jealous."

"I'm far from jealous," I spat, glaring at Chris with narrow eyes.

He was now dancing with before mentioned brunette tart from marketing. His fingers were tapping her lower back as they swayed back and forth.

"Okay, who friggin' slow-dances to Walking in a Winter Wonderland?"

"Yep," Jay chuckled. "You're definitely jealous."

"That was a rhetorical question; and I said I'm not jealous! If anything, I'm pissed."

"Hey, I don't blame you. He's like a good box of porn on a lonely summer night. So, if I were a woman, I'd be crushing on him."

I shrieked, insulted.

"Oh, so now I have a crush on him, too!"

"Well, duh. If you're jealous because you're currently not the object of his affection, then that kind of implies that you're jonesing for him."

"You obviously need to get some rest," I laughed, "because you're talking crazy-talk now. I will call you tomorrow morning."

"Typical Madison," Jay chuckled. I could almost see him shaking his head at me. "Every time I put you in the hot-seat, you turn-tail and run…"

"I just don't want to get in an argument over this—over Chris."

"Okay, we can go with that…for the time being. But you're right. My think-tank is running low on fuel. But, yeah, be sure you call me. I'd like to get together with you sometime after Christmas. You need to let me know your schedule."

"Okay…I love you."

"I love you, too…and, Madison?"

"Yes, Jay?"

"I know he hasn't been the greatest friend to you lately, but you practically grew up with Chris. You have a history with him, so just take the stick out of your ass and give the poor guy another chance, huh? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Whatever," I mumbled. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

We exchanged good-byes again and then hung up.

What's the worst that could happen?

My eyes fixed on Chris again as I shoved my phone into my handbag.

The worst that could happen was that I would get stuck within Chris's well-weaved web of lies again. If I dared to let my guard down, I would only end up rekindling my relationship with him; and then he would disappointment all over again. No, there would be no back-tracking. Time had creating such a vast, empty space between Chris and me for a reason. Plus, I had Nick in my life now. I had moved on.

"…'ello, Ms. Reso…"

Not again. Hadn't God torture me enough for one evening?

Jesse was staggering, clearly intoxicated now. He was grinning at me with a dazed expression across his face.

"Hello again, Jesse," I sighed.

"You don't look like you're having a very good time."

"That's because I'm not."

He nodded for no apparent reason and fumbled in his breast pocket for that handkerchief. It took him several minutes to pull it out. He wiped the invisible condensation off his brow and then offered me a somewhat sincere smile.

"Is there anything I can do? Can I get you something?"

"We're not at the office," I forced a smile in return. "You don't have to wait on me hand and foot. Thank you for the gesture, though."

Jesse nodded again.

He stood there and stared at me for several minutes.

"Yes, Jesse, what is it?" I asked, squirming nervously under his gaze.

"Where's, uh, the guy you were with—the 'New Nick, formally known as Chris Jericho?'" he asked, almost losing his footing.

I rolled my eyes and gestured behind him.

"He's dancing."

Jesse whipped his head around in such a humorous way that I had to stifle a laugh. He stared at Chris for a moment and then turned back to me.

"How come he's not dancing with you?"

"You'd have to ask him."

Jesse nodded and dabbed his forehead again.

"Well, I, uh, I have two left feet…but if that doesn't bother you, I'll dance with you…if that doesn't bother you…"

Dance with Rain Man or watch Chris with the brunette tart? I would much rather watch Chris with the tart unless…

I had quickly glanced in Chris's direction, only to find that he was looking at me. That was enough to sway me to the dark side.

"Fine," I replied with a sigh, "Just keep your hands above my waist; and I had better not catch you looking south again."

"Yes'm," Jesse nodded, blushing as he extended his hand.

I groaned as I grabbed the sweaty appendage and rose to my feet.

This was going to be interesting.