Summary: New York Chique receives a new intern...who happens to be Christine's #1 fan! Christine's nerves are growing and growing as Saturday gets closer, and Meg is in an utter panic as she realizes she doesn't have a date for a very important event! Is there someone who can rescue her?

Erik, the "Date Phantom"

Countdown to Date Night

The week was passing by at a snail's pace.

By Wednesday, Christine began to fidget. By Thursday, she was practically squirming. By Friday, she was a complete ball of nerves that seemed to jump at the slightest sound.

"Christine, I hope that's only decaf in your mug," Brian muttered, passing by her cubicle and noticing how she practically jumped when he spoke. What had gotten into her lately?

He remembered her walking into the office the day after Meg's "celebration", and she seemed to be floating on cloud nine. It was different from the other day, when she came into the office wearing that mysterious coat. He threw a few teasing remarks at her, just as he had done then, but this time…she didn't even get the least bit irritated. She simply smiled sweetly at him, and at one point, rose to walk over to his cubicle to pat him on the head. But as the week passed, he began to notice a new change in her…one that seemed to be on edge.

Nervous? Absolutely. Excited? So it seemed. Tense? On Friday, Christine was tapping a pencil against an empty coffee mug at a non-stop quick pace, and it was driving her coworkers insane! "Chris, would you calm down?"

Christine glanced up at Brian, surprised to find him standing over her cubicle. "W-w-what?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "What's bothering you?" he reached down and took the pencil right out of her hands. "I've never seen you like this before…" he began chuckling, thinking that perhaps what she needed was one of his many ill-humored jokes, so that she could tell him to take the pencil that he now held, and where exactly to stick it. That, at the very least, would be normal behavior. "What's up, big date this weekend?"

Christine was leaning back, trying to calm down, but at Brian's next sentence, she practically fell out of her chair. Brian reached out and grabbed her wrist to keep her from doing so, and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Ok, now I know something is up, so tell me!"

Christine was fussing with her chair, avoiding Brian's eyes as much as possible. "There's nothing to tell," she muttered, double-checking the stableness of her chair, before finally sitting back down in it.

"Yeah right," Brian muttered. "Something is going on, something along the lines of a date, isn't there?"

Christine refused to meet his eyes. She chose instead to focus on the computer screen in front of her.

Brian studied her and couldn't help but chuckle. "You should never be your own defense attorney," he laughed, pleased to see Christine giving him a glare. "That's better, that's the girl I know," he teased some more, his laughter growing as Christine, politely, gave him the finger. "Ok! Good to see that you're back to your normal self, at least around me," he teased. "Now, who is the lucky guy?"

Christine paled, and then blushed deeply at his words. "W-w-what?"

"Oh come on, Chris, you think I'm just going to drop the subject?" he poked his tongue out at her. "Is it because you're the 'Happy Single'? You don't want your own coworkers to know?" Suddenly, realization hit Brian, and his eyes went wide as he stared back at her. "Oh my God, it's the coat-guy, isn't it!?"

"Shut up!" Christine hissed at him, looking around, hoping no one else was watching them.

Brian was beaming. "It totally is, isn't it?"

Christine rose from her chair and began marching to the staff lounge to pour some coffee into her empty mug. Brian was right at her heels. "Who is he? What's his name? Besides 'the coat guy', of course. When am I going to meet him?"

Christine rounded on him, her eyes blazing with annoyance. "Meet him? Why do you think I would allow you of all people to meet him?"

Brian was grinning. "Because I'm the closest thing you have to an annoying father-figure in this city," he laughed. "Someone has to measure the guy up, to make sure he's worthy of our little Christine," he teased. "And I may not have naked baby pictures, but it is my right, and privilege, to embarrass you in front of him."

Christine was fuming. "As long as I live and breathe, I will do everything in my power to make sure the two of you do NOT cross paths," she hissed, before stomping over to the coffee pot and pouring herself a hot cup of the recommended decaf.

Brian stuffed his hands in his pockets, chuckling the whole while as he watched Christine fume. "Well, you at least answered my question," he grinned.

Christine grumbled something under her breath. She knew that he had used his whole teasing tactics in order to get her to admit she was going out on a date, and it was with the coat-guy—Erik!

"But seriously," Brian said, his laughter dying down slightly. "This guy must be something special; I can remember the last time I saw you go out on a date! I would like to meet the guy—"

"Oh no," Christine shook her head as she poured cream and sugar into her coffee. "Your tactics may have worked with getting me to spill some information to you, but they will certainly work against you with meeting him…besides, this is just a first date!" And one that I hope will lead to many more…

Brian was still grinning. "It was a risk that I believed was worth taking," he sighed. "But if that first date does give way to a second, please consider my offer."

Christine lifted an eyebrow at this. "Offer?"

Brian nodded his head. "Susan and I won a four pack of New York Knicks tickets back in October from some radio show. There's a game in two weeks, and I think it would be the perfect environment for all of us to get to know one another."

Christine paled just slightly at this. A perfect, and very public, environment. Christine remembered the discomfort she had noticed in Erik when they were in Times Square, and inside the restaurant. She could never force him into that sort of situation again, and taking him to Madison Square Garden, where he would be surrounded by a thousand screaming strangers, as well as television cameras…no, she would not do that to him.

Oh gosh, get a hold of yourself; you still have to get through your first date with him. Don't start planning the wedding yet!

"Christine?"

Both Christine and Brian turned their heads to see Karen, the receptionist, standing in the doorway of the staff lounge, with a young woman standing by her side, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Christine, this is Laura Collins, she's our new office intern, and she just told me she's a fellow Harvard alum," Karen explained.

Christine brightened at this news, more so because it was a welcome distraction from Brian's questions. "Laura, very nice to meet you," Christine grinned, stepping forward to shake the girl's hand.

Laura's eyes widened even more. She had bouncy, curly red hair that she was trying to control with a ponytail; she wore wide, black-rimmed glasses, the kind made famous by librarians, a bright blue sweater, and a blue plaid skirt to match. Save for the red hair, she reminded Christine of herself when she had come to New York to work as an intern.

"Miss Davis, I just…oh wow!" Laura gushed, shaking Christine's hand heartily. "Oh it is such an honor to meet you! I major in journalism too, and you are my favorite writer by far! The professors still talk about you, how you are definitely one of the best journalists the university paper has had in the past decade! And when they told me I would get to come here, to New York, to intern at New York Chique…and I discovered that YOU worked here…oh, I just couldn't help but scream!"

Brian couldn't help but chuckle. "Maybe we should only have decaf in the staff lounge from now on?"

Christine threw him a glare, before smiling once more at Laura. "Thank you, although you flatter me too much, I wasn't that good—"

Laura gasped in shock, and shook her head wildly, her ponytail bouncing from side to side. "Oh no, it's the truth! Professor Quinn raves about your talents all the time!"

Christine frowned at this. Ah yes, bad boyfriend #5, the doting journalism professor who fed me that line, and who turned out to only be interested in my bedroom talents…

"Well, don't believe everything you're told…or read," Christine muttered, before leading the girl back towards her desk. "Now, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Laura spent the next half-hour gushing over how much she admired Christine, about articles that Christine had once written for the university newspaper, and she even mentioned how she had discovered, while doing research, that Christine had submitted a short story to a literary magazine that the school had produced one spring. "I never knew that you wrote anything outside of journalism, so I was quite surprised upon finding it! And I know I have been filling your ears with praises, but I can't help it, it was a fantastic story! You have such talent Miss Davis, I can't begin to describe—"

Christine had to cut in. "Laura, believe me when I tell you that you are too kind, and I do not deserve as much praise as you have been giving me." Laura opened her mouth to protest, but Christine lifted her hand in hopes to silence the girl. She was truly flattered by the young woman's admiration, but she hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise since Laura had started talking! "Let's take the focus away from me…" Christine said with a smile, "and talk about your hopes with working in New York and interning here."

Laura blushed deeply, but her face lit up with a big smile. "Oh gosh, where do I begin? Well…I've always had a passion for writing, especially journalism. Many people thought I would want to do hard-hitting news, and strive to work for a major newspaper, but actually…" she blushed and played with the ends of her skirt as she said this. "During my freshman year at Harvard, I got the flu, and I mean it was horrible, I was as sick as a dog, I couldn't get out of bed for a whole week, I had stuff coming out at both—" she stopped herself when she realized that this part of her conversation was completely irrelevant…and rather disgusting. "Anyway, my roommate lent me old copies of her favorite magazine, which happens to be…" she grinned, "New York Chique. And I was flipping through it, reading the different lifestyle articles, looking at the fashion photos, all that stuff, finding it fun, but honestly not thinking much more…and then I paused when I came upon an article written by someone known as 'The Happy Single'."

Christine paled at Laura's news. The magazine strived to keep her identity a secret, but somehow this college senior had learned the truth.

"Oh don't be alarmed, please!" Laura gasped, reaching out and grasping Christine's hand. "It wasn't easy, making the connection. In fact, no 'normal' person would have made it, I just happened to be a nerd for your work, which is how I realized that you…and The Happy Single…were in fact, the same person."

This puzzled Christine. "What do you mean, exactly?"

Laura blushed once more as she explained. "I don't know if you remember this, but…there was an editorial you had written for the university paper, talking about how society pressures women to act less intelligent than their male peers…and complaining about the women who actually do fall prey to these pressures, and act like…what was the phrase you used? Like 'peroxide bimbos who show more cleavage than intelligence'."

Christine blushed and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Needless to say, Carlotta had been the inspiration for that article.

"Anyway, there were several phrases that you had used in that editorial…that I also recognized in your column in New York Chique. That was how I made the connection, and my suspicions were later confirmed when I learned that you were doing some sort of journalism job in New York City, but no one seemed to know with whom you worked for. Knowing that the identity of The Happy Single is a big secret, well…I just put two and two together."

"Clever…" Christine sighed; she actually felt pleasant surprise at the way Laura had pieced it all together. "Sounds to me like your route would be investigative journalism."

The redhead's eyes went wide, wider than the rims of her glasses at these words. "Oh gosh, I…I don't know about that," she blushed deeply. "I just…I really admire your work. I think it's inspirational to women everywhere, I mean, I used to be one of those girls, a girl who believed that my self-worth lied in who my boyfriend was, or what I was doing on a Saturday night, but your articles were just so…so strong and passionate! And that's what I want to do; I want to help inspire people, especially young women in high school and college."

Christine couldn't help but smile with pride at the young intern. "Well…I have to admit, I do feel inspired now, after hearing you," she grinned. "Alright, well, I'm going to look at the portfolio that Karen said you brought, and your first assignment," Christine explained, while scribbling a message down on a post-it note, "is to take this folder, with this message, to editing; it's for our December issue which is scheduled to come out next week, so I'm really behind," Christine bit her lip. "Anyway, take this down to them, and while you're there, get to know the people in editing, since they'll be the ones you'll interact with the most. Oh, and find out from them what their thoughts were on those photo negatives that I gave them."

Laura grinned and nodded her head, just feeling so excited at her first assignment for New York Chique, and for helping Christine Davis. She took the folder and post-it note, and quickly walked down the hallway in the direction Christine had pointed, a skip practically in her step.

"Looks like you have a fan club," Brian grinned, emerging from his cubicle.

Christine groaned at the sight of her friend. "Not now, ok? That conversation is over and done with, and as for your…invitation…I don't want to make any plans for the future, because I don't want to jinx tomorrow!"

Brian cocked an eyebrow at this. "I wonder what young Miss Collins will think, once she learns that her idol, The Happy Single, is actually going out on a date."

Christine glared at Brian. "I can still help women feel inspired and empowered and unashamed for being single…AND go out on a date," she argued, wishing she had something to fling at him.

The teasing smile that Brian always held for her drifted away then, and for the first time in a long time, Christine was reminded how much older he was. "Chris…" Brian pulled over his desk chair until he was sitting next to her. "There's no shame in being single, or in a relationship. I don't have to tell you that," he murmured with a tender smile. "And despite all my teasing, I really do hope that this goes wonderfully for you."

Christine looked down at her lap, before lifting her eyes to her friend's and smiling. "Thanks, Brian. I appreciate that."

Brian grinned and reached over to give his former mentee a hug. "I still want to meet him, though," he argued, trying to look stern. "Your dad would insist that someone play his part in all this."

Christine rolled her eyes and punched Brian on the shoulder. "Gone was that tender moment," she grumbled, before giggling. Brian joined in her laughter, before rising to push his chair back…but as he was going, he paused, and turned to her once more.

"Hey Chris, is something wrong with Meg?"

Christine paled at these words. Wrong? Was Meg upset? Did Tony attempt to talk to her again? She hadn't seen her friend all week; she had been too busy trying to get her articles finished for the December issue, as well as too busy worrying over her Saturday evening with Erik. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Brian sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I just…I went to her office while you were talking with your #1 fan," he gestured in the direction Laura had gone, "and she seemed to be…in utter shambles."

Christine frowned at this, and quickly rose from her desk, briskly walking towards Meg's office, which was at the end of the hall, and which overlooked a spectacular view of downtown New York. Meg's personal secretary looked extremely frazzled, the woman's hair was sticking out in all directions, her desk was an utter mess, and she seemed to be juggling several tasks at once.

"Joanne, is Meg in?" Christine asked, hating to bother the already over-stressed secretary.

"Oh!" the older woman gasped, before patting her chest to calm herself down. "I'm sorry, Christine, you startled me," she attempted to tuck one piece of fallen gray hair back in place. "And thank God you're here…Meg is in absolute need, please, please go in at once and speak with her!"

Christine didn't need to be told twice, she quickly entered the office, and gasped as she took in the sight.

There were clothes, literally, everywhere! On the floor, hanging off the sofa, the desk, even one of the light fixtures. In one corner of the office, were several old boxes that once contained take-out from a variety of restaurants, while in another corner, were several piles of expensive shoes. The floor was also littered with crumpled wads of paper, and Christine noticed that the desk was covered with different brands of make-up, and surrounded by different handbags.

"Meg?"

Meg was nowhere to be seen when Christine first entered the office, but suddenly, out from behind a closet door, the petite copper-blonde poked her head out, startling Christine completely. "Oh Chris! Thank God you're here!"

Christine's eyes widened as her friend ran out from the closet door she had been hiding behind, wearing only a flesh-colored strapless bra, a white slip, and nude stockings. Her reddish gold hair was up in curlers, and she was clearly experimenting with make-up: one side of her face had soft, earth tones and a pale pink blush, while the other had a more striking fuchsia color, that deeply contrasted the dark blue eye shadow that she wore over one eye.

"Good God Meg, what on earth…?"

Meg rolled her eyes and grabbed Christine's hands and pulled her towards a giant mirror that lay opposite of Meg's desk. "I am frantic for some advice," she moaned, grabbing several dresses that had been thrown on the ground and tossing them into Christine's unsuspecting arms. "You remember Simon Patrillo?"

Christine thought for a second. Why did that name sound familiar?

"Simon Patrillo…as in Patrillo Fashions?" Meg muttered in utter annoyance.

"Oh, yes, now I remember," Christine lied. Unlike Meg, she was never into the fashion scene. She dressed professionally and had attended a few events in support of the magazine, but she rarely went to any of the fashion shows that some of their clients threw. "So that explains it," Christine whispered to herself, looking at all the different outfits strewn across the office. "Does Simon have a show coming up?"

Meg froze, and stared at Christine as if she had grown a third arm right out of the top of her head. "CHRISTINE!" she practically screeched. "THE SHOW IS TONIGHT!"

Christine's ears were paying the price for her ignorance. "Ok, ok, sorry, dumb question," she apologized, hoping that anything would calm her friend down. Meg was a wonderful editor-in-chief; she always did what she could to make the clients of New York Chique happy, and she always took it upon herself, both as editor-in-chief, and as the daughter of a famous fashion icon, to attend any fashion event that went on in New York City. "Alright, so Simon Patrillo's show is tonight, and you obviously need help with trying to decide what outfit to wear…"

Meg groaned, and without another word, turned away and collapsed on top of a heap of clothes that already covered her office sofa. "If only that were the problem…" she grumbled, looking absolutely miserable.

Christine bit her lip and carefully set the many piles of clothes that Meg had thrown into her arms, down gently on a nearby chair, before coming to sit beside her friend. "What do you mean, exactly? What is the problem?"

Meg glanced at her best friend, before turning her head and groaning some more. "You of all people will think so little of me when I tell you…"

Christine rolled her eyes. "No I will not, don't be stupid. What is it, Meg? Tell me?"

Meg sighed and reluctantly turned her head back, preparing herself for Christine's reaction. "I don't have a date."

Christine blinked a few times, before finally responding. "You need a date for this thing?"

"Oh, see!?" Meg threw her arms up and rose from the sofa. "That is exactly why I didn't want to tell you! Because I knew you would react that way!"

Christine was confused. "What way? All I said—"

"Oh come on, Chris! 'You need a date for this thing?' What else could that mean, other than you think I'm spineless for wanting to have someone with me for perhaps one of the most important fashion shows in the history of New York Chique!"

Christine took a deep breath, gathering herself together before answering. "Ok, first off, I don't think you're spineless. Second, I don't think you need to have a date for this show, so if that is the only thing that is preventing you from going, I'm sorry, but I honestly think that is stupid." Meg opened her mouth to protest, but Christine lifted her hand to stop her. "BUT," she continued. "I understand that this is a very big event, not just for you, but for the magazine, and I am sorry that I didn't understand right away how big this thing was…and, I also understand that appearances do mean a lot, and for something like this…it would be nice to have someone with you…so, what can I do to help you with this endeavor?"

Meg looked stunned by everything that Christine had said…especially the part about understanding her worries. "You…you want to help me?"

Christine's eyes grew tender as she looked at her friend. "Meg…you're my best friend, of course I want to help you."

Meg sniffed back a few tears that threatened to fall, and ruin her eyeliner, and quickly engulfed Christine in a huge hug. "Thank you," she sniffled, before giggling. "Sorry, it's the stress," she quickly dabbed at her eyes.

Christine smiled tenderly at her friend, before giving her another hug. "You concentrate on picking an outfit, and while doing that, tell me about the date problem." And from there, everything fell into place. Meg had originally planned on attending this event with Tony, but that was before Tony revealed his true colors and dumped her. She then had her secretary find her a substitute date, and it turned out that Karl, from the art department downstairs, was available and would take her. But just yesterday, Karl called in sick with a bad case of the flu, and all day long, Meg's secretary had been making phone calls, trying to find someone who could accompany Meg to Simon Patrillo's show…but no one was available.

"So that explains the paper wads," Christine mumbled, looking down at the littered floor.

Meg nodded her head, as she tried on yet another dress. "Yeah, I kept scribbling down different names, and throwing them on the floor when I learned that they couldn't do it," she sighed, not happy with the dress she had chosen. "Poor Brian, I even asked him earlier, when he stopped by my office. I'm so desperate; I'm asking my married coworkers!" She threw the dress off and looked ready to collapse in utter defeat. "Oh Chris, it's hopeless, isn't it? I should just…I know you're right, I'm not going to allow this to keep me from going, but…" she looked ready to cry.

Christine bit her lip, knowing that they only had so much time before the big event. "Ok, so we've tried all the guys…both single and married…here at the office…"

Meg sadly nodded her head. "I even asked Todd from editing, but he can't, it's his and his boyfriend's tenth anniversary."

"Hey!" Meg turned to see Christine looking directly at her, her eyes wide and her face all lit up. All she was missing was the light bulb to appear overhead. "What about that guy from the restaurant? You know…what was his name…?"

"Stephen?" Meg asked, her own eyes going wide at Christine's suggestion.

"Yes!" Christine grinned. "What about him? He has a connection to the magazine."

Meg's brow furrowed. "The accounting firm?"

Christine shrugged her shoulders. "Makes perfect sense to me, it is a financial matter, so to speak."

Meg bit her lip, unsure how to respond. "I don't know, Chris…I mean, I don't really know Stephen that well…"

Christine frowned at Meg's sudden lack of enthusiasm. Hadn't she been desperate to find someone? And now that this opportunity lay before them, she seemed reluctant. "But…you didn't really know Karl that well, either."

Meg fidgeted slightly. "W-well…true, but…but Karl understands the fashion business, and Stephen…well…he…" her voice drifted away.

Christine put her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed by Meg's change in behavior. "Oh I see…Stephen's not 'fashionable' enough, is that it?"

Meg's eyes went wide at Christine's words. "What? No, of course not!"

"Oh really?" Christine folded her arms across her chest. "Then what's the problem? He seems like a really nice guy, you both seemed to have a good time when we all had dinner together, plus, he did knock out your sleazy ex-boyfriend, so—"

"Ok! Ok! I get your point!" Meg grumbled, although she was blushing quite brightly. "I…I just…I haven't spoken to him since that dinner, you know? And…gosh, I just…" she bit her lip and stared out the window. "I don't want him to think I'm using him, he is a nice guy, a really nice guy, and he has done a lot for me…"

Christine walked over to where her friend stood and rubbed her shoulder tenderly. "He seems like a good, upstanding guy. I think he'll understand your need, and besides, we don't even know if he can make it, so let's just call him at the very least."

Meg nodded her head, although she was now feeling more nervous than ever before, and she didn't understand why exactly. She walked over to her desk and punched a key on her phone. "Joanne? I want you to get me the phone number of Stephen Dulane at our accounting firm…"

Stephen looked absolutely miserable.

In one hand, he held his cell phone, while in the other he held his business card, a card that had his cell phone number listed. On the night of their "unofficial dinner date", before saying goodbye, Stephen had given Meg one of his business cards, telling her that she could contact him for anything. It had been a bold move, he knew, but one he felt very confident in making at the time.

But right now…confidence was the last thing he was feeling.

"You need to stop staring at that thing; it won't just ring because you will it to."

Stephen glanced up from the chair he was sitting in, to gaze across the room at the pacing masked figure. Stephen couldn't take it anymore, after several days had passed and Meg still hadn't contacted him, he rushed over to Erik's penthouse, hoping that the mysterious Date Phantom could give him some advice.

"You just have to be patient," Erik advised, although he was the last person who looked patient.

Stephen frowned at this. "But…I did everything you said when we had dinner; I followed your rules, I listened to her, I kept up my end of the conversation, I was polite, I gave her space, I showed confidence—"

"Sometimes it just takes time," Erik interrupted, before pacing over to a window to gaze out at the city below. Stephen noticed that whenever Erik stopped his pacing, he would begin to tap his fingers against something, whether it was his desk, another piece of furniture, or as he noticed right now, the window glass. It seemed that something was certainly on Erik's mind…

"Well…" Stephen mumbled. "How long does it take? I mean, I understand what you're saying, about being patient, and I know it's only been a few days, but…" he bit his lip. "I'm just worried that…that she'll find someone else, someone who is far more interesting and far better looking, and that she'll forget all about me…"

Stephen's words cut to Erik's heart, and he glanced over at the man he was quickly growing a good friendship with, and he felt utterly horrible. I've been consumed with my own worried thoughts about my upcoming…date…with Miss Davis, that I haven't been a good employee…or friend, to Stephen.

"Stephen," Erik murmured before walking over to the small, stout man. "She's not going to forget you, and we will find—"

The sudden, shrill ring of Stephen's cell phone cut off the rest of Erik's words. Stephen nearly jumped out of his chair, and practically dropped the phone, before finally getting a good grasp on it and focusing on the number that was calling.

Erik noticed Stephen's face go pale, and a sweat break out over his brow, as the hand that held the small phone began to tremble. "Oh God…Oh God…" Stephen could barely breathe. "It's her!"

Erik's own eyes went wide at this revelation. It seemed that Stephen's will was stronger than they both thought.

"W-w-w-what should I do?" Stephen gasped.

"Answer it!" Erik hissed, feeling the sweat begin to pool beneath his mask.

Stephen nodded his head, took a deep, trembling breath, before hitting the answer key, and holding the phone to his ear. "H-h-hello?"

"Stephen?"

MEG!

It was her, it truly was her!

Stephen looked ready to have a heart attack, but Erik slapped him hard on the back to revitalize him.

"Miss Giry!" Stephen nearly choked from the hard slap. He quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure to his voice. "H-h-how m-may I h-help you?"

Erik bit his lip to hold back his groan. He'd have to teach Stephen that he also needed to sound confident on the phone, as well as in person.

"Hi, Stephen…" Meg sounded hesitant and Stephen bit his lip. Had he done something to make her feel uncomfortable? "I asked my secretary to find your number, and I called your office, but they said you had left early for the day…"

Stephen held back his gasp. She had tried to reach him at work? She had been thinking about him?

"Anyway, I remembered the business card you had given me, and found it in my purse, and I'm so glad I was able to get a hold of you…"

She was glad that she was able to get a hold of him! She hadn't forgotten him after all!

"And…oh gosh, I don't really know how to say this, but…ok, I'll just come out with it," Meg sounded very determined, and Stephen felt as if he were standing on a cliff's edge. "Simon Patrillo has done a lot of work for New York Chique, and he is having a fashion show this evening. I am going to the show, but…" Meg paused, as if she were thinking about her next words. "What I am trying to say is…" she paused again, and Stephen held his breath as the pause seemed to go on into eternity. Even Erik, who was sitting nearby and leaning in to hear the call seemed to be waiting breathlessly for what she would say next.

"Stephen, would you do me the honor of being my date this evening?"

Stephen nearly dropped the phone, and most likely would have, if Erik had not been gripping his wrist in order to keep him from doing just that.

Stephen glanced up at Erik, his mouth going dry, his eyes wide, his entire face perspiring with nervous tension. He was utterly speechless!

"Stephen?" Meg sounded extremely nervous now.

Erik slapped Stephen on the back to get him out of his speechless stupor. "Yes!" Stephen nearly barked into the phone, and then quickly tried to cover up his sudden answer with a loud cough.

There was a long pause, before Meg finally spoke again. "You'll go with me?" there was something in her tone, something that sounded both amazed…and pleased.

"Y-yes," Stephen took a deep breath and concentrated on sounding confident. "Yes, it would be an honor to escort you to Mr. Patrillo's fashion show."

There was another pause, before a sigh of what sounded like relief, filled Stephen's ear. "Great," Meg said, sounding very genuine in her response. "I'll have a limo come by and pick you up at 6. There will be dinner before the show, and a cocktail party afterwards."

Dinner. Cocktail party. Fashion show! Stephen swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as he realized not only would he be out with Meg Giry for practically the entire evening, but that he would be right out of his element!

"Thank you so much, Stephen," Meg murmured into the phone, sounding relieved and pleased. She murmured her goodbye before hanging up, and none too soon, for Stephen's grip loosened, and the phone fell to the floor with a loud thump.

"She…she…she asked me out…" Stephen gasped, rather breathlessly. "She asked me to be her date…to…to a fashion show…"

Erik couldn't help but smile at the whole situation. "That she did…that she did. Congratulations, Stephen!"

But Stephen didn't feel overjoyed, like he was deep in his heart. "N-n-no, you don't understand; it's a fashion show…and dinner, and cocktails! I…I…I've never…how…where…w-w-what…?"

Erik gripped Stephen's shoulders with both hands, and forced the accountant to look directly at him. "Meg said the limo would be coming by your place at 6. That gives us just under two hours to get ready."

"T-t-two hours?" Stephen gulped.

But Erik did not loosen his grip, and spoke quite carefully, and quite clearly. "You will be dressed appropriately, you will be fully prepared for the evening, and you are going to ROCK this date, do you understand?"

Stephen's eyes went wide at Erik's words. In the brief time that he knew him, Stephen never expected Erik to use the word "rock" before, especially when describing a date. But he liked it, and he slowly felt his confidence building back up again. "Rock this date…" Stephen murmured to himself. "Yes…yes, I am going to ROCK this date!"

Erik grinned and patted his new friend on the back. "Let's hurry back to your place and get you ready for the lovely Miss Giry…"