She had nothing to wear. There were three Louis Vuitton suitcases, all opened with clothing scattered everywhere. There was her Michael Kors wrap dress, her Kate Spade cocktail dress, her Lanvin jumpsuit. None of it would work for tonight. Helena couldn't figure out why her dinner plans with MacFarlane were making her this nervous. She could show up in a potato sack and he wouldn't notice. Girls don't dress for guys, because most straight men don't know the difference between the potato sack and the Kate Spade dress. They just want to see tits and ass.

Paparazzi! That's why I'm nervous. Can't look bad for the photogs! One bad picture and I am off this year's Vanity's Fair's Best Dressed List. I must look amazing!, Helena lied to herself. The thought of having dinner with MacFarlane excited her. Just hours ago, she loathed this man and everything he stood for. Now, she was actually excited to see him again.

Settling on her Dior pink halter dress, Helena ran to the bathroom to primp. After 2 hours of showering, shaving, plucking, blow drying, straightening, glossing, bronzing, and perfecting, she was ready. Slipping on her Chanel wedges, Helena made her way to the hotel's lobby. Making her way down the grand staircase in the hotel's lobby, she saw him. He was nervously pacing the lobby in his grey jacket and matching suit pants. He had a white dress shirt underneath, with the top few button open to give just a peak at his chest. Helena smiled. He had paid good money for the trainer that created that chest, so it makes sense for him to show it off.

When he saw her, he stopped pacing. Clearly, Helena was not the only nervous one. He smiled, which made Helena smiled. When she reached the bottom, Seth came over and offered his arm.

"Oh, how sweet." Helena joked.

"What? A man can't escort his date?"

"Please, stop trying to lay on the charm, MacFarlane."

"Fine. You feminists…"

Helena cut him off. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the guy who sang the song about seeing actresses' boobs at the Oscars really has no right to complain about feminists."

Seth laughed. "Touche. However, if I recall correctly, movie audiences haven't been treated to your boobs yet."

"Ok, pump the brakes, buddy. I just forgave you a few hours ago. Don't push it. I am really awesome at throwing drinks at people. I watched The Hills a lot in college."

They both laughed. Their witty banter wasn't forced, it came naturally. When they reached their table, Seth pulled out Helena's chair for her. A waiter quickly came by to fill their wine glasses and leave them with the chef's tasting menu for the night.

Seth looked over the menu. "That's what I love about fancy restaurants. You pay a ton of money and you don't even get to choose what you eat. You are at the mercy of the chef. I hope like hell he isn't having a bad day."

Helena giggled. "I can't be too bad, it's only 20 courses!"

"Well then, we need some more wine and conversation topics. I'll pick the first topic, since I'm paying." Seth looked at Helena with a raised eyebrow. "So, Miss Helena, how does one become GQ Magazine's Hottest Woman of 2012?"

Helena smiled. "Well, I started by blowing the Editor-in-Chief, worked my way down to the minor editors, and to make sure I beat that bitch Rihanna, gave all the interns handjobs."

Seth broke out in the biggest belly laugh. His laugh was so loud other tables were beginning to stare. Once he gained his composure, and apologized to the other patrons for disturbing their meals, Seth nodded his head in approval.

"Well, I never expected that response from you."

"I don't know why you're laughing, I wasn't joking. I had to wear a wrist brace for days after I gave all those interns handies," Helena deadpanned.

Seth tried to keep his giggles stifled. "Well played, ma'am"

Helena was ready with her first question. "Okay, my turn, MacFarlane. And I'm going for the jugular. I don't want to know your life story, because I can Google that. I want to know the nitty-gritty. I want to know the Seth MacFarlane no one else knows. Therefore, for my first question, I want to know how you lost your virginity."

"Jesus Christ, talk about wham, bam, thank you ma'am"

"Shut the fuck up, MacFarlane. I'm not Barbara Walters. Answer the damn question."

"Okay, we just haven't had the first course yet."

On cue, the waiter arrived with the amuse bouche. "Okay, stop stalling."

MacFarlane waited for the waiter to leave and lowered his voice. "Well, I was 19…."

"Shit! Seriously?" Helena gasped.

MacFarlane looked around embarrassed. "Shut up, I know. I was just a really shy, socially awkward guy. She was my first girlfriend, ever. We decided to do it after a night of playing Mario Kart. Stop giggling, seriously. I am confiding in you, damn it."

Helena took a breath to compose herself. This shit was too good.

"Better now? I was a huge nerd, okay? I really wanted it to be good for both of us, but the pressure got to me, so we had to try a few times…"

"Big Man MacFarlane couldn't keep it up?," cracked Helena.

"Shut up. I'm sure your first time was fucking magical. Fucking candles, rose petals, and unicorns fucking everywhere," a wounded MacFarlane retorted.

"I never said it was. In fact, I lost it with Hugh McClearly, in his bedroom, after an hour of studying chemistry when I was 16. Trust me, it was awkward. He couldn't find the right hole to stick it in."

Both starting laughing again. Seth turned beet red at Helena's confession.

The next 19 courses flew by. Both enjoyed the wines, cheeses, pastas, and exotic cuisine native to the island. The conversation flowed like the wine they drank. They talked about everything: industry stories, which producers were major assholes, bad dates, crazy parties and everything in between. Four hours later, the meal was over, but the two weren't done talking. It was like they had known each other for years. No awkward pauses, no subject too taboo.

By midnight, they had worn out their welcome. Both had had more of their fair share of wine and were rather tipsy. After thanking the wait staff and leaving a huge tip, the two made their way up to Helena's room for a nightcap. Neither wanted the night to end just yet.

Helena opened the door to her suite and invited Seth in. She quickly kicked off her shoes and excused herself to the restroom, as all that wine made its way through her system. Once done, she washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. She was definitely drunk, no denying that. But what would be the end game of the night? She couldn't sleep with him, only 12 hours ago she hated his guts. Maybe they could fool around a little bit, some heavy petting. Helena fixed her lipgloss and left the bathroom. She was in no mindset to make good life decisions right now.

She found Seth sitting on her bed, cocktail in one hand and the television remote in another.

"It's on! I found that Downton show! They have all the current seasons here!" Seth exclaimed.

"Good. Now your education can begin. I can't be friends with someone who does not understand the trials of Lady Mary and Matthew. Or appreciate the beauty of Dame Maggie Smith."

Seth made himself comfortable on the bed and patted his hand on the mattress, indicating he would like Helena to lie next to him. She complied, not getting to close. Settling in a comfortable six inches from Seth, he began the first episode. It wasn't long before the alcohol and jet lag overcame Helena and she fell into a deep sleep.