Summary: Stephen and Meg's date at Simon Patrillo's fashion show...

Erik, the "Date Phantom"

The Fashion Show

"Relax…just relax, and enjoy yourself…" Stephen kept repeating over and over as the long, white limo, slowed down to a curb outside a very loud, and very bright building. He had been disappointed when the limousine had arrived, and Meg was not inside it. The driver then informed him that Miss Giry would be meeting him at the pavilion where the fashion show would be held. It was just as well, Stephen thought to himself, since now he would have a little extra time to prepare himself.

But that time was over, he was now there, and although he couldn't see her, he knew that she was there as well, standing by, perhaps watching the limo pull up and waiting breathlessly…well, probably not breathlessly, but at least waiting for him. And most likely hoping that I don't embarrass her in front of everyone.

"Sir?"

Stephen looked up and realized that the driver was holding the door open for him. He gasped as he saw dozens of photographers, all standing around the limo, each shouting different words at him, and hundreds of flashbulbs going off at once, blinding him as he slowly climbed out of the car.

Oh boy, what had he gotten himself into?

Stephen stood for a moment as the photographers continued to take his picture, each straining to see if anyone else would be climbing out of the limo after him, but much to their disappointment, the door shut and the driver began to pull the car away. The photographers lost all interest then, not that Stephen was surprised; after all, he was nothing in their eyes. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, then remembered what Erik said, and brought them back out, to quickly smooth the suit he was wearing, the suit that Erik insisted he wear for the evening. Did he look all right for such an occasion? Would Meg approve? Where was she, anyway?

She's probably found someone better to escort her, and just couldn't get a hold of me, Stephen glumly thought. He couldn't blame her, after all, if you were stuck with someone like him, wouldn't you do everything in your power to find a replacement?

"Stephen?"

Stephen froze at the sound of her angelic voice, and he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, as he slowly lifted his eyes to see the petite beauty that he was head over heels for, emerge like Aphrodite from the sea of photographers.

The word gorgeous didn't do her justice. She was exquisite. Her reddish-gold hair was done up completely, a few wisps falling about her neck and shoulders, but the whole if it was piled up and adorned with pearls, and crowning her lovely mane was a jeweled comb that looked like a white dove, with soft feathers extended out.

Her dress was also breathtaking. She wore a long, scarlet silk dress, which hung by two thin straps at her shoulders, all the way down to her toes, with splashes of gold and glitter spread about on the delicate fabric. Stephen swallowed as he noticed that there was slit in the dress, that started at the hem and went all the way up to her lower thigh. She had red high heels that lifted her height to his eye level, and she also wore a sheer scarlet wrap, that hung loosely around her arms. As for her face, Meg had decided to go with the softer earth tones, her eyes highlighted by a striking gold eye shadow, and her lips enhanced by a brilliant crimson color.

Stephen was utterly speechless.


Meg had been wringing her hands nervously ever since she arrived. She knew she was early, but she had her reasons. There were plenty of photographers there already, but she knew there would be much more as the night wore on, and to be honest, she didn't want to put Stephen through all that chaos.

Is that what you really believe? Or was it simply because you didn't want those photographers to catch you on his arm?

Meg frowned at the inner voice. She didn't like it one bit. Stephen Dulane may not be what society would call handsome, or fashionable, but he was a really nice guy, and had been such a gentleman to her when she had invited him to dinner earlier in the week. I need more gentlemen in my life, more good men like Stephen, than handsome rogues like Tony. There was no denying that Tony looked the part for such red carpet events; a guy like him would soak in all the photos taken, and Meg would certainly look good on his arm. But Tony, like many other handsome men before him, proved to be yet another undependable, non-committal, scumbag. And Meg was tired of getting her heart broken by such "handsome princes". Maybe she needed to kiss a few frogs to find her prince?

Meg's breath caught as she slowly watched Stephen's limo pull up. The limo had the monogram for New York Chique stenciled on its doors, and the photographers immediately began to crowd around it, their flashbulbs going off like lightning in a thunderstorm. Meg tried to peer past the photographers and their flashing cameras, but she couldn't see through them. She moved closer, hoping to catch sight of Stephen, hoping to help steer him away from the obnoxious photographers, but the second her eyes caught sight of him, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Stephen Dulane, the geeky accountant, didn't look so geeky after all. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, with a black dress shirt and a light gray necktie. The cut of the suit made Stephen look slimmer, and elongated his height, giving him a slightly taller look as well. Meg could not deny it…she was impressed! She had obviously misjudged Stephen; the man definitely had some sort of expertise in fashion.

"Stephen?"

Meg couldn't help but grin as she caught his eyes, pride shining forth at the obvious efforts he had gone to in order to make her feel proud to have him as her date. If anything, it was extremely humbling for Meg; he was doing this so that she wouldn't feel embarrassed, but she did feel embarrassed…embarrassed that she had doubted him.

"You look great!" Meg grinned, coming forward and eagerly wrapping her arm around his.

Stephen was still staring down at her, his face pale, his eyes wide. "T-t-thank you…" he stuttered, before quickly clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up. He remembered the careful instructions Erik had given him, and replied, in a clear voice, "And you look beautiful."

Meg felt her cheeks flood with color by his simple compliment. She had been told in the past that she looked lovely by other dates, but…this time, it just felt so much more genuine. "Thank you," she whispered, that nervous feeling returning once more. Although this time, the nervousness was for completely different reasons. "Well!" she said, forcing her nervousness to go away. "Shall we?"

Stephen swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes very briefly. Confidence, confidence is key! "Lead the way, mademoiselle."

Meg found herself blushing again, but she couldn't hide her smile. In fact, she was smiling up at him the whole time they walked down the length of the red carpet, completely unaware of the photographers around them.


"Do you really think this is a good color?"

Erik didn't once look at Stephen, he just kept walking around him, looking pensive, his fingers tapping his chin has he observed Stephen in the recommended suit.

Stephen fidgeted slightly. "I just…gray seems awfully…dreary, don't you think? I mean, to a fashion show—"

"This is charcoal gray," Erik interrupted. "And dark colors look good on you."

Stephen blushed slightly. He had never really thought about what colors looked "good" on him before.

"I think the black shirt would be better than the white," Erik murmured, before moving behind Stephen to retrieve a men's black dress shirt, which was hanging on a doorknob. "Yes…" Erik continued to murmur, holding several neck ties that were draped over his wrist to the shirt. "Yes, the black shirt with the gray tie."

Stephen frowned slightly. "Another gray color?"

"It's light gray," Erik explained. "And it will look good with the shirt and the suit, trust me."

Stephen nodded his head, deciding to not argue with "the expert". So far, all of Erik's advice seemed to be working for him, and Stephen had no sense whatsoever when it came to men's fashion; he would leave it all in Erik's hands.

"I'm just still amazed that the friend you mentioned, the one who works in the men's clothing store, was able to get this suit over here so quickly!"

Erik took the suit jacket that Stephen had shrugged out of, and handed him the black shirt to change into. "Edward is another former client of mine; he understands how nerve wracking it is for most men when it comes to dressing for a date," he found himself chuckling at this. So many people would never have thought about how nerve wracking it could be for men, when it came to dressing up for a date. Everyone always assumed it was just a woman's worry. "Edward has been very kind in helping me suit up other clients. I just had to call him, give him your address, and the measurements you gave me—and thank you, by the way, for not lying," Erik added, as he handed Stephen the light gray tie. So many former clients of his had lied about their size, and thus many of the suits Edward had sent, never fit. "Just understand that this suit is on loan. Do everything in your power to keep it spotless, and make sure that you, that's right, you, return it to the address that I have given you, by eight, tomorrow morning."

Stephen nodded his head, although he was already feeling some heavy pressure. He could be such a klutz; it was not unusual for him to drop food on himself. How was he going to keep this suit spotless? He was nervous enough as it was!

Erik took a step back to look at Stephen one more time, as the accountant slipped on the suit coat once more, and buttoned it up. "W-w-well?"

A smile began to spread across Erik's masked face. "Perfect," he grinned.

Stephen paled for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief. "R-r-really?"

Erik nodded his head. "You look great, and you will certainly impress her," he grinned, but then his smile was quickly replaced with a serious look. "Now…let's go over tonight."

Stephen's relaxed expression quickly changed back to one of nervousness. Looking the part was only half the battle; he had to show Meg that he truly wanted to be the man she was proud to call her boyfriend…


"Ah! Meg!"

Meg looked up and grinned as she heard her name being called. "Simon!" she cried, waving her hand to the tall, lanky Italian that was quickly approaching. "That's Simon Patrillo," Meg whispered into Stephen's ear. "He is both our host, and guest of honor tonight."

Stephen nodded his head, as Simon quickly approached, holding Meg's shoulders in his long, bony fingers, and leaning forward to give her a kiss on both cheeks. Meg did the same, before leaning back and smiling up at him.

"Oh thank God you are here, darling," Simon groaned, rolling his eyes. "I have had Jason Cartwright in my ear since the party started, blabbing on and on about Paris Fashion Week," he let out a loud groan of disdain. "He's seriously considering about making a whole line based on the 1980's 'glam rock' scene! Couldn't you just die!?"

Meg bit her lip to hold back her giggle. Simon was certainly an eccentric. "Simon, I would like you to meet Stephen Dulane," Meg introduced, smiling up at Stephen.

"Now, when you meet any of Miss Giry's friends, make sure you give them that good, firm handshake, and also make sure that you look interested in whatever they are talking about. I don't care if they're holding a conversation on bathroom floor tiles, look interested and pay attention! Because no doubt, they're going to test you. They're going to realize that you're not 'one of them', and try to intimidate you with some strange question in regards to fashion; don't let them get to you! Be calm, be polite, and most importantly, put all the attention on the star attraction: Simon Patrillo."

"Simon," Stephen smiled, calling on all his confidence. "It's a pleasure to meet you, and an honor too."

Simon looked a little surprised by these words, but smiled all the same as he shook Stephen's hand. "Why thank you," he smiled, glancing at Meg out of the corner of his eye, and seeing her smiling proudly up at Stephen. "And are you in the fashion business?"

Meg paled just a little and opened her mouth to speak, but Stephen confidently answered for himself. "Only from the financial side of things," he joked softly. "But I have always been in awe of fashion; it certainly is an art form that does not get the rightful credit or critique that it deserves."

Simon was grinning, and folded his arms across his chest. "Truly? Would you be so kind as to give me some examples?"

"While you were changing clothes, I jumped on your computer and did a quick web search on Simon Patrillo. The man has an outrageous fashion sense, and loves to use wild, outlandish colors, and many of his gown designs copy those of ancient Rome and Greece. According to the web search, his last big show received little praise, due to his designs not being considered 'daring' enough, by high fashion standards. While his gowns revealed much in the way of leg and arms, there was no plunging neckline, no exposure of the torso, and the fabric was considered 'frumpy' looking. This is no doubt a sore spot for him, as that very fashion show took place in Paris, during last year's Paris Fashion Week, so tread carefully, if this issue or anything like it, arises."

"Well," Stephen began. "It seems that high fashion is becoming a bit of a cliché. For so long, it seems that the attitude of 'less is more' has ruled the runways. So when a person comes forth with a vision to bring some 'old world regalness' back to design, it frightens those critics who are so used to the way that things have been."

Simon's eyes widened at Stephen's words. "My thoughts exactly!" he exclaimed. "Once upon a time 'that' was the thing, but it's boring now! We need something new, and as funny as it sounds, 'old' is the new 'new'!" Simon's eyes were sparkling as he grinned at Stephen, before glancing back to Meg…who was staring up at Stephen, her mouth hanging open from the shock of the entire conversation. "Meg, darling, where did you find him?"

Meg shook her head, realizing that she was being spoken to. "I…w-what?" she shook her head again and tried to focus her attention on Simon.

Simon just grinned. "You both have just become my special guests tonight! I want you both sitting up in the front, and Stephen—" Simon grinned, before turning and walking to greet more people. "I want to hear all your thoughts when the show is done!" he blew Meg a kiss, before turning on his heel and leaving them as quickly as he had approached them earlier.

"Being confident, looking relaxed, sounding interested in the topics of the evening, and coming across as if you not only know what you're talking about…but that you also care, will do wonders for your date. Trust me, you'll be one step away from sweeping Miss Giry right off her feet."

"How…I…" Meg was stuttering.

Stephen felt his cheeks flush with color, but he also wore a proud smile on his face. He couldn't help it! Normally, he would be a nervous wreak, and he didn't really know what he was talking about…but somehow, just after a few words, it all seemed to come out naturally, and Stephen really was showing some interest in the fashion show now.

Meg was still amazed, and finally was able to jolt herself back to reality. "I never realized…" she murmured in awe. "I didn't know you had such a keen eye for fashion."

Stephen blushed at her words and ended up giving her a rather bashful smile. "Keen eye? I don't know about that—"

"No, it's true!" Meg interrupted. "You have honestly made Simon's night! Last time I saw him, he was in such a foul mood, still grumbling about those bad reviews, but here you come…someone he doesn't know, someone who I thought was outside the fashion industry," she added with a slight grin. "And…you just blew him away! He needed to hear what you said more than anything else, and it didn't even occur to me until just now!"

Stephen was grinning widely. He was very happy that he had been able to help both Meg and her friend. "Simon seems like a very nice guy," Stephen sincerely mentioned. "Some guys just need that boost of confidence, though, especially when they are down."

Meg smiled up at him, and felt a warm feeling wash over her at his words. "Come on," she grinned, tightening her arm around his and pulling him just slightly. "Dinner is about to start."


The night was going surprisingly well! Dinner had been relaxing, much to Stephen's surprise. He was nervous at first, about Meg watching him eat (he knew he didn't have the best figure in the world) but, thankfully as Erik had observed, Stephen didn't have horrible table manners. He never spoke while chewing, he never gorged his face, he kept his elbows off the table, he didn't play with his food, he knew the proper methods of how to use a knife and fork…it was just that when he sat down at the table, he momentarily panicked when he noticed multiple forks!

Erik hadn't told him anything about this! Which one did he use? Stephen's face burned brightly when he noticed Meg watching him out of the corner of her eye, as he looked at the multiple dinner utensils with confusion. "This is for the salad," Meg whispered, pointing with her pinkie finger at the outer most fork, so as not to direct any attention to Stephen from the others at their table. "Just work from the outside, in, with every course," she informed, with a tender smile. Stephen felt his insides melt at that smile, and was extremely grateful for her understanding.

Other than that, dinner went quite smoothly. There was polite conversation at the table, and Stephen was introduced to few more faces in the fashion business. They directed most of their questions at Meg, and Stephen did have a momentary fear that he would have nothing to offer the conversation, but Meg would have none of that.

"Stephen holds Simon's views on the new wave of fashion. Older styles are definitely the new 'in'," she grinned.

"Really?" one of the other people at the table asked. It wasn't a question filled with challenge or contempt, but genuine interest. Stephen cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his napkin, before proceeding to give his opinion on the matter, as he had done with Simon. Much to his surprise, the others at the table seemed to be quite impressed.

After dinner, the fashion show was about to take place. Stephen and Meg were greeted by a large security guard-type, who escorted them to "Simon's prized seats", which everyone took immediate notice at, and began whispering amongst themselves as Meg and Stephen took their coveted front row seats. The show began, and Stephen's eyes went wide as the models strutted out onto the runway, wearing colorful, flowing gowns, that did indeed resemble the robes of ancient Greece and Rome, just as Erik had informed him. There were a few other pieces in Simon's collection, but it was obvious that this was his baby. Stephen had never once given much thought to the fashion business…but after tonight, he knew he would never look at it the same way again, and he would certainly think twice before judging it.

The show ended, and the audience clapped wildly as Simon made his curtain call with all the models on the runway. As soon as the lights came back on, everyone began rising from their seats, eager to get to the cocktail party that was immediately following the show.

"That was incredible!" Stephen exclaimed, most earnestly.

Meg's grin was so bright, that the sun, itself, would be shamed by it. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it," she giggled. In the past, when Meg had gone to fashion shows, her dates (many of whom were male models) looked like they would rather be at home, watching the paint dry on the wall. Their boredom was extremely embarrassing for her, and they would normally spend much of the evening either standing by her side, not participating in the conversation, just being a dead weight on her arm and looking all around the room…or at the bar, downing one drink after another.

No, Stephen was quite different, in many ways, but all of which Meg found that she liked more and more.

"So?" both Meg and Stephen jumped as Simon came up from behind them, looking hopeful and excited. "So, what did you think?"

Meg smiled and held her hands out to the designer. "I love it, and I want it for my spring mega issue of New York Chique," she stated with pride.

Simon blushed and then eagerly turned to Stephen. "What did you think, Stephano?"

Stephen was thrown at first by his new "pet name", but found himself smiling at it, knowing that it was Simon's way of showing friendliness and acceptance. "Honestly? It took my breath away, I have never seen anything like that; the colors, the flow of the fabrics, I think if a woman walked into a room, wearing such a gown, everyone would stare at her, in utter fascination…" Stephen's eyes had drifted towards Meg's then, his voice growing softer and softer as he spoke. "And…a man's heart…would simply stop beating…in complete awe at her beauty…"

Meg didn't realize it until Stephen had finished his sentence that she had been holding her breath. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she felt a shiver go down her spine, one that spread warmth throughout her body.

Simon glanced between the two of them, noticing how they were looking at each other, and a large grin began to spread across his face. "I am so glad you enjoyed," he grinned, before placing his arms around them and leading them in the direction of the cocktail party. "You both are always invited to any party, show, gala, anything—that I am throwing in the future. And if I can, I will make sure you get the tickets for anything that I will be at," he stated with a wink.

They had reached the room where the cocktail party was being held, and everyone turned and began clapping again as Simon entered. Simon did a little bow and blew a few kisses to a few cameras that were flashing like crazy. Stephen, not completely comfortable with the cameras, told Simon and Meg that he would get them drinks, and quickly made a dash to the bar, before the cameras could take one more photo.

It was just as well, since Simon was dying to talk to Meg alone. "I love him!" he hissed into her ear. "Stephano is such a breath of fresh air after those other imbeciles you've brought in the past."

Meg felt her face flood with color at Simon's words, but a voice inside her head was completely agreeing with the fashion designer.

"Granted, he's not what I would call 'usual' for the fashion world, but such a gentleman!" Simon continued. "Complimentary, sincere, and so attentive to you," he added.

Meg's face darkened even more. "M-m-me?" she nearly chirped. "W-what do you mean?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Oh come now, darling, don't play the innocent," he grinned. "Stephano has been by your side all evening, he is obviously doing his best to make sure you are comfortable, whether that's by getting you a drink," he pointed to Stephen at the bar, "or by participating in the conversation."

Meg had to give it to Simon; he did have a point.

"Who was that pet gorilla of yours that I last saw you with?"

Meg blushed and began to fidget. "Tony," she murmured without any pride.

Simon's lip curled in a snarl of disgust. "Ah yes, Antoine," he grumbled. "If I remember correctly, the fool had a few too many, and then proceeded to do some sort of strip tease, while drunkenly announcing he was a better model than all the others in the room, and thus urinated on one of the manikins that was wearing one of my creations."

Meg remembered that night too; it was during the coveted Paris Fashion Week, and sadly, some of the fashion press which had already given Simon's work negative remarks, mentioned how "fitting" it was that someone didn't hold back their true feelings, and treated the creation as the piece of crap that it truly was. After that fiasco, it was amazing that Simon was willing to invite her to any of his shows.

"Well, I'm just glad that he is gone, and that you have found someone who is truly worthy of your arm," Simon grinned, just as Stephen was approaching them with their drinks. "Ah! Thank you, Stephano, but I am afraid I must mingle with others," he groaned with a roll of his eyes. "Party etiquette can be such a nuisance. Anyway, be sure to see me before you leave for the evening!" he instructed, as he took his drink and began to leave their side. "It was such a pleasure, Stephano, truly! Chow!"

"C-c-chow," Stephen murmured, a bashful smile spreading across his face. He couldn't believe how well he had done with making a good impression on Meg's friends! Of course, Stephen remembered exactly what Erik said on such matters:

"It's not about you, always keep that in mind. It's about her. You go out of your way to make a good impression on her friends; they are going to have an even better impression of her. You will have succeeded in making her feel like the queen that she already is."

"Oh no…"

Stephen was jolted from his thoughts by Meg's groan of disdain. "W-w-what is it?"

"Jason Cartwright, and one of his little minions," Meg muttered, as two men slowly began to approach them. "Jason is also a fashion designer, one who truly embraces all the negative understandings of the word 'diva'. He has been a rival of Simon's for years, and is highly regarded by many fashion critics…save for a few."

"New York Chique?" Stephen whispered.

"Exactly," Meg grumbled. "I featured Jason's fall collection two years ago, and I vowed after that strenuous photo shoot, to never have him back."

"Meg!" Jason greeted, his arms wide open, a large smile spread across his face. "Oh Meg, Meg, Meg, it's been so long!"

Meg plastered a smile on her face, and did her best to not show her reluctance, as she stood on tip toe to kiss the man's cheeks. "It's nice to see you again, Jason."

Jason was a tall man, very thin, who looked like a skeleton dressed in his all black suit. He also had a bald head; one that was so shiny, a person could swear they would see their reflection in it if he tipped his head to you. Stephen's first thoughts were Lex Luther from "Superman"; the guy looked like he could be a comic book villain.

"Oh Meg, you look stunning," Jason cooed, admiring her dress. "Valentino? Gucci?"

"Actually, it's one of Simon's designs," Meg informed, smoothing her hands across the fabric. "I thought it appropriate for—"

"Oh, yes, of course, how silly of me, your magazine is one of the few that does admire Simon's work," Jason interrupted, his smile never once faltering, although it didn't take a psychologist to realize he wasn't being genuine. "And that's so quaint of you, coming to his show in his design," he actually patted Meg's head, as if she were a dog! Stephen felt himself bristle…

"Oh! How rude of me," Jason drawled. "This is Luc, my business associate," Jason gestured to the handsome, thin, black man by his side. "Luc is from Paris, Meg, and has been dying to meet you."

Luc smiled and took Meg's hand in his own, bowing dramatically, before kissing it. Stephen's bristling didn't lessen. "Mademoiselle, it is such a pleasure to meet the daughter of the famous Antoinette Giry."

Meg smiled politely, although she honestly didn't trust any friend of Jason's, no matter how charming they appeared. "Thank you," she muttered, before removing her hand from Luc's and turning to gesture towards Stephen. "And this is—"

"Meg, it has been too long since I was last featured in your charming magazine," Jason interrupted again. "I have a new spring collection that would be perfect for it! Oh, your readers would just die! I insist that you feature it in New York Chique's spring fashion mega issue."

Meg was starting to bristle now. No one, not even her own mother who started the magazine, told her what to do. "I'm sorry, Jason, but I've already asked Simon to feature his collection for that issue." She couldn't help but look amused at Jason's pale face of absolute astonishment. It was the first time since talking to him that she had been able to finish a sentence! "And I think—"

"SIMON'S COLLECTION!?" Jason practically shouted, his eyes still wide with shock and disbelief. Meg's face immediately flooded with color when other people began to turn and look at them. Jason noticed this too, and did not wish to cause a scene…yet. "Meg, you cannot be serious!" he hissed. "Simon is death in the fashion industry!"

Meg squared her shoulders, determined to stand her ground. "Simon received some harsh, and unjust reviews in Paris, but that doesn't mean he is not a genius, and I happen to believe that his collection is—"

"Oh Meg, so naïve!" Jason interrupted again. "Just because you came to his show tonight, doesn't mean you have to give him courtesy, and allow him to be the feature in your magazine!"

Meg was really angry now. How dare he call her naïve! Her magazine was the fastest selling, and most successful women's lifestyle magazine, in all of New York! "I chose to feature Simon's collection because I like it, and I think my readers will—"

Both Jason and Luc interrupted her, yet again, with their wild laughter at her words. Meg bit her lip to keep her emotions in check; she was not going to allow their rudeness to bring her to tears, it would only fuel them more. But she was extremely frustrated with not being heard, or allowed to speak, or—

"Miss Giry is editor-in-chief of New York Chique, and she has a brilliant eye for fashion, and if she wishes to feature something, then who are you to question it?"

The two men stopped laughing and stared at Stephen as if he were a bug they had found in their water glass. Meg, however, felt her chest swell with pride as she heard him stand up for her. "And I happen to agree with her," Stephen stated, taking a bold step forward. "Simon Patrillo's collection is brilliant, and if you had listened to her, half as much as you listened to yourself, you would have heard her say that."

Luc looked absolutely stunned, but Jason was already fuming at being questioned…as well as called out on his rudeness. "And who are you?"

Stephen put on a smile, one that was obviously fake. "Stephen Dulane," he extended his hand towards the so-called fashion designer. "Miss Giry's date."

Jason didn't even bother to shake Stephen's hand; he simply began laughing again at the mention of Stephen being her date. "Oh my, my, my," Jason turned his attention back to Meg. "Were you that desperate to find someone to be your chaperone, that you took the first guy off the street?"

Meg's brow furrowed with outrage at Jason's comment, and she opened her mouth to tell him what she really thought of him, but Stephen stepped forward, determined to defend himself, and put Mr. Jason Cartwright in his proper place. "I happen to be one of Miss Giry's accountants," he informed, pausing to allow Jason an opportunity to laugh, as he predictably did. "And while I may not be an expert in the fashion business, I do know this much…" he leaned in and whispered, "when you say that your collection will cause people to just 'die'…wouldn't that be going against the point of selling it?"

Jason's eyes widened with disbelief. Was this lard of a man making fun of him!?

"I mean, if you think about it, it makes perfect sense as to why Miss Giry would insist on not featuring your collection; she needs her readers to be alive so that they can continue to subscribe to her magazine, not to mention she is a kind-hearted person and would hate to be involved in any way with the death of millions of innocent readers."

Meg bit her lip, but it was too late, a snort of laughter had already escaped. Jason shot her a cold stare, and then fixed Stephen with one, as if hoping it would freeze Stephen right where he stood.

But Stephen continued.

"I can see the headlines now: 'Millions die from mass shock caused by Skeletor's fashion collection, featured in popular New York magazine'."

Meg didn't hide her laughter, she let it out now, and Luc even let a few chuckles slip, before Jason shot him a death glare.

"You think you're funny, don't you? You think you're so smart—"

"I wonder what would do it, don't you?" Stephen interrupted, turning to Meg with a curious expression on his face. "Do you think it will be the fabric or the colors that will kill them? Or the fact that the models are wearing dental floss, as from what I understand, is what your line of clothes basically is."

Jason was fuming. "Listen, you stupid, fat—"

"Oh! Maybe it's the prices? Imagine, $200,000 for a piece of string! I mean, just the thought itself is making it hard for me to breathe…"

"Stop it!" Jason nearly shouted, his face burning brightly as he realized others were now watching…and chuckling to what Stephen was saying. "Who do you think you are? You're nothing, you—"

"Who am I?" Stephen interrupted, his eyes now catching Jason's and causing the bald-headed fashion designer to gulp. "I'm Miss Giry's date, which means I'm already ten times luckier than you," he growled. Meg's smile vanished, only to be replaced by a deep blush at his valiant words. "And as I said before, I'm one of her accountants, who happens to recall that the last issue of New York Chique that featured anything by you, was one if its lowest selling issues."

Jason gasped at this, and looked ready to faint. Luc even had to grip the bald man by his shoulder to keep him from falling over.

"I also happen to know that Miss Giry is much beloved, not only by people in this city, but all around the world. And if I wrote a comment for the editorials section in her magazine, telling them all about how Miss Giry was so insulted by noted designer Jason Cartwright, well…I think it's safe to say that your so-called spring collection will be safely tucked away on the racks, while Mr. Patrillo's sells like wild-fire."

That did it. One of Jason's eyes was twitching from anger, shock, and horror, and Luc hurriedly steered the designer away, before he could say anything to further embarrass himself (or jeopardize his career), or make a spectacle of himself by fainting in front of all these cameras.

As soon as the bald designer left the room, several people standing around Meg and Stephen began to applaud and approach the two of them, eager to shake Stephen's hand and tell him how they had been longing to do what he did for years. People spoke to Meg too, complimenting her on both her dress…and her date for the evening, as well as telling her they would surely stand by her and New York Chique, and boycott anything that carried Jason Cartwright's name.

Meg smiled and thanked them for their support, but her attention was completely focused upon Stephen.

It seemed she truly had found a winner.


"This is probably the most important part. I know that you love her, and I understand that if everything has been going right, you may feel that the time is right to lean in and kiss her…"

"Kiss her!?" Stephen gulped. Erik had been coaching him all evening as he was preparing for his date, glancing nervously every now and then out of his apartment window for the limo to pull up. "I…I…" he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I…d-d-do you think s-she'll expect me to k-kiss her?"

Erik sighed and ran his hands through his hair. It was the very question he had been asking himself for the past few days as he was mentally preparing himself for his upcoming date with Christine. Lord knew he wanted to kiss her; he was extremely tempted to that night they stood at the doorway of her apartment building. But no matter what, he knew that he had to stick with his principles, they were the only guarantee that he had.

"It seems to me that some women expect a kiss, not necessarily that they're comfortable or ready for it, but that it's supposed to happen, therefore they expect a guy to act out and kiss them. Some women think it's an absolute taboo to even consider kissing on the first date."

"T-t-taboo…" Stephen murmured, fear still gripping him at the thought of kissing Meg. Oh he wanted to kiss her, very, very badly, but it had been so long since he had last kissed a woman, and he was so afraid that he would be an absolute klutz, that his lips would miss hers and end up kissing her chin, or nose, or that they would bump heads…and he didn't want to stare at her with open eyes if they kissed, she would think he was a complete psychopath! Oh God…what about tongues? No, no, if they kissed it would only be a closed lip kiss, right? But…what if the kiss deepened? What if, by some miracle, she enjoyed their evening together and moved to deepen the kiss? What if he opened his mouth to allow her to deepen it, and his breath smelled horrible? Or she thought his tongue was slimy and disgusting? Or he just botched the whole thing up and she would never want to see him again!?

"Stephen!"

Stephen snapped his head up and stared at Erik. "S-s-sorry," he muttered, utterly embarrassed that he had been lost in his own thoughts. "I'm just…extremely nervous…"

"Confidence," Erik reminded him. "You're going to be fine, and what I was saying," he began to repeat again. "Was that, when you're saying goodnight, politely offer her your arm, escort her to her doorway, tell her how much you've enjoyed the evening…and if there is a moment that feels that she's waiting for something…simply take her hand in yours, curl your fingers gently around hers, bow to her…and brush your lips just ever so lightly across her skin. Linger…but don't linger for too long."

"Linger…b-b-but not for too long," Stephen repeated, swallowing nervously again.

"That's right," Erik nodded. "Then rub your thumb, just lightly, over the area that you kissed, smile up at her, straighten yourself up, and carefully walk away from her backwards, your eyes never leaving hers."

"Right, right, ok," Stephen nodded to everything Erik suggested, now realizing he had a new worry to think about: not falling over!

"And of course, you make sure she gets inside safely, before you even think about leaving," Erik instructed, straightening Stephen's tie one last time, just as the limo pulled up in front the apartment. "Alright!" Erik grinned, patting Stephen on the shoulder. "Break a leg!"

Stephen gave a weak smile to his masked friend before turning and nervously heading towards the long white limousine. "That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered.


"I can't remember the last time I had such fun at a fashion show!" Meg gushed, as she and Stephen sat together in the white limo that had brought him earlier.

Stephen smiled, glad that Meg had had a good time, and that he hadn't been an embarrassment for her. Hopefully she would be willing to go on another date with him.

Another date. He had to gather his courage and ask her right now!

"Miss Giry…"

Meg giggled. "Oh Stephen, this isn't the boardroom and we're not in meeting; call me Meg," she grinned.

Stephen smiled, taking that familiarity that she was offering as a good sign. "I…I just…I wanted to thank you for inviting me to come with you," he murmured.

"Oh Stephen, it's I that should be thanking you! Like I said, I can't remember seeing Simon happier, and the way you handled Jason!" she burst out laughing. "Oh I've been dying to yell at him for years! But I never could because I didn't want to jeopardize the magazine's reputation."

Stephen smiled, his cheeks flushing brightly at her compliment. "I can't stand rudeness, and no one should ever be rude to you," he softly stated, his voice quite sincere.

Meg blushed and smiled at his sweet comment. They were nearing her apartment and she knew that they would have to say goodbye soon. She couldn't believe how much of a good time she had had with Stephen Dulane. The man clearly was a pleasant surprise, a breath of fresh air from her other boyfriends; she didn't want to wait until another fashion show came to New York to see him again…

"Thanksgiving is next week…" Meg began.

Stephen was surprised by her change in subject…not that he really had a subject. "Yes," he replied. "Are you traveling anywhere for the holiday?"

Meg shook her head. "I normally just spend it by myself, watching the parade out of my apartment window, eating catered turkey…" she really hoped he would pick up on her hints.

"Oh," Stephen murmured. He had some family in New Jersey that invited him for the holidays, but it always felt more like they were doing it for charity's sake, not because they really wanted him there. After all, he was the only one who didn't have a family of his own…

Meg began to feel silly for even bringing the suggestion up. "Well, I hope that you have a nice holiday with your family—"

"Would you like to have Thanksgiving with me?"

Meg's eyes went wide, as did Stephen's, when he realized he had said the words. Stupid, stupid, stupid! That could have come out so much better—

"I'd love to."

Stephen looked at her with surprise, and felt his heart do a somersault at her response. "G-great," he stuttered, but a happy smile was already spreading across his face. "Um…I'll call you, early next week, and give you the details then."

Meg smiled and felt herself blushing. She was eagerly looking forward to their holiday date.

The limo stopped just outside her apartment building, and she giggled as Stephen took Erik's advice, and leapt out his door, before running around and beating the driver to open Meg's. She smiled up at him, thanked him, and took his offered arm. Stephen took several deep breaths as he escorted her to the door, calling upon all the confidence he had in order to not faint dead away from his nerves.

"Thank you again, Miss Giry, for tonight."

Meg blushed, but smiled at his politeness. "And thank you, Mr. Dulane, for making the evening truly wonderful."

There was the pause—just as Erik had said!—and Stephen swallowed the lump in his throat as he noticed that Meg was looking at him, probably wondering if he were going to kiss her…

Stephen bowed then, taking Meg's hand in his, and holding it near his lips. He hovered for a moment, and realized then that she had stopped breathing. Without another moment's hesitation, he lightly brushed his lips across her hand, and heard her intake of breath in that simple gesture. He already knew that her skin was softer than silk…but tonight, as he tasted it for the first time, Stephen didn't think anything could be more heavenly.

Linger, but don't linger too long. Stephen did just that…lifting his lips from her skin, allowing his thumb to brush over the area where he had kissed her, before finally lifting his eyes, smiling up at her, and straightening himself up. "Goodnight, Meg," he murmured, bowing one more time, as he released her hand…before giving it an affectionate squeeze—something Erik didn't tell him to do, but that felt right to do—and began to walk backwards, praying that he didn't make a fool of himself by tripping.

Meg's hand was tingling, and she smiled as he began to walk away, realizing that he was the sort of gentleman who would, of course, wait for a lady to go inside before turning his back on her. She couldn't recall the last time a boyfriend had done anything like that for her. And she couldn't let such an outstanding man like him walk away without him knowing that she truly appreciated everything…about him.

Stephen froze as he realized she was quickly walking towards him, worried that perhaps he had done something wrong…when he realized she was leaning up and brushing her lips against his cheek. "Goodnight," she smiled, before turning and hurrying inside the warm shelter of her building.

Stephen's cheek was tingling, and he fought every urge to throw his hands up and whoop to the heavens! Once she was out of sight, he turned and practically danced to the limo, the driver watching with him with amusement.

Stephen dug for his cell phone, which was buried deep within his jacket pocket, and immediately began dialing Erik's number. "Erik!" he nearly shouted. "Erik, she kissed my cheek! She had a good time! She said she loved tonight! She wants to spend Thanksgiving with me!"

Erik was trying to catch everything Stephen was saying, but despite it all, he was grinning proudly. He knew Stephen Dulane would do well; he truly was Prince Charming in peasant's clothing.

One date down, Erik thought to himself. Now he had to focus all his energy on himself for his own date, tomorrow. I wish I had my own Date Phantom to instruct me…