Emily watched Damian rise and move to the door and take his phone from the pocket of his jacket. How was that going to ease her mind or address her deception?

He returned to sit on the coffee table in front of the love seat. "When I found out that you had…blocked my number, I had a talk with Samuel then I had a longer talk with Alex. He sent me some emails and text messages that he had saved."

Damian began running his finger on his phone's screen, pulling up data. He adopted a higher, effete tone of voice as he began reading.

"Cutie pie Damian…" He looked up at Emily and pointed to himself "…isn't so cute anymore."

"That's a matter of opinion," he mumbled, as he returned to the screen.

Back to Alex's voice, he read "I always thought the two of you would be good together…"

"Stop making fun of him," Emily interjected heatedly.

Damian looked up. "I'm not making fun of him. I like Alex. I just can't do justice to his diva wisdom with my own voice. Now, may I continue?"

He got a pained look as he read Emily's reply message "Nah, he's cute but just a kid."

In Alex's voice he countered, "Junior and I are at our sexual peak (sigh)..."

Damian looked up quizzically and shrugged his shoulders and Emily lifted the corners of her mouth, thinking there was nothing more adorably clueless than an unassuming straight guy.

Damian continued…"Men are at their most potent in their late teens and early twenties and women don't reach their peak until around 30…If anything, honey, you're too young for him."

He looked up at Emily again and said "I'm willing to overlook your youth and inexperience and just say I hope I'm around when you're 30."

He lengthened his gaze and said "Alex knows you well. He guessed about that time that you would have begun figuring out ways for us to be together and he contacted everyone he thought you might contact. My God, Emily, all you had to do was tell me."

Emily shrugged her shoulders with a tiny rueful look.

Damian tore his eyes from her and continued "He got a text from Samuel 'Okay, you're right. I've heard from Emily. Why is she so worried about Damian's eating and sleeping habits' to which he responded, 'Just go with it. She'll get to the point soon. She needs someone as good and nice as Damian and he needs someone as hot and lovable as she is….time to turn that boy into a man."

Damian rolled his eyes when he read Alex's assessment of him and after the comment about Emily said, "Well he was right about that one. You see, Emily, you're not being deceptive if no one is fooled. The only one who was being played was you. But Alex meant well. And I don't care what you might have done to put us in that room together. I'm just glad you were clever enough to do it. "

Emily's shock began to morph into relief. She pulled her legs closer to her body, making room on the love seat for Damian.

He took the seat and draped his arm around her raised knees.

"Samuel didn't take that well," Damian said and read on, "I'm supposed to help Emily hook up with Damian? Why him? I'm nice."

"And Alex answered, 'sure you are but what can we do? The lady made her choice."

Damian read that line again to himself, as if seeing it for the first time and turned toward Emily, "except you didn't really make a choice, did you?"

Without giving her time to respond, his mind began racing. Emily hadn't wanted him. She'd just reacted to the suggestion made by Alex. That explained why she said she wasn't sure why she'd made a plan. It wasn't so much Darwinian, as Hannah had said, but Pavlovian.

Oh, God, I've got to get out of here, Damian said to himself, suddenly feeling as though he was smothering.

He said abruptly to Emily, "So if you're feeling better about things, I should be going."

"What? You're leaving? Why?" asked Emily with confusion and hurt creeping into her voice.

Damian stopped short. He'd almost done the same thing to her that others had done. "Man up, McGinty. Go back and talk to her. It won't be easy but you're not leaving here until you've given her the reassurance she needs."

He perched on the coffee table again and held her hands. "Emily," he began hesitantly, "you're not the only one with a perfect memory. It was a truly great weekend. It was wrong of me to try to force you into more."

He put his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her just a little closer, though not too close, as he was still itching for a dignified escape from this room and the girl who didn't return his feelings.

"I'm taking nothing from you. You are now and for who knows how long into the future the girl of my dreams."

Damian planted a quick kiss on Emily's forehead and rose to leave. Just a few more feet and he would be free to find a dark, lonely corner…or better yet, an Irish pub, with gallons of ale…

Emily rose from the couch. What have I done that he can't forgive me? she asked herself. To Damian she called "Why are you mad at me?"

He stopped again (so close). "What?"

Emily stood behind him. "When you came in, you said you were livid. If it wasn't over the computer mess, what else did I do wrong?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It isn't important."

"Yes it is," said Emily, moving to stand between him and the door, "What is it?"

He sighed, looking beyond Emily to a spot on the wall. "I had high hopes for us. But then you wouldn't talk to me and then blocked my number. It felt as if you didn't ca….I guess it was obvious. I should have accepted the weekend for what it was. Maybe I am still a kid. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Damian tried to move around her and reach for his jacket when Emily put her arms around his waist. "No, I'm sorry," she said, "for making you doubt my feelings for you."

He looked behind confusedly.

"Leave your jacket there and turn around," she said softly.

He turned to face her and she melted into his chest. "I've been so worried and stressed but I'm so relieved now. Can't you feel the difference? Put your arms around me."

He did as he was told and could feel how soft and yielding and content she was. It was almost unearthly. He lowered his head to rest on her shoulder.

She purred in saying "Alex didn't do anything but remind me how strongly, if wrongly I was always drawn to you." She was quiet another moment then asked, "Do you want to stay with me tonight? I can't promise that you'll get anymore rest than you've had this week, but you'll enjoy yourself more."

Damian made guttural sounds to indicate yes.

Emily looked up at him and said "I'm sorry I made you mad but now that the fury is over, I kind of like the mad Damian... I want the mad Damian. I want the romantic Damian who gives special presents," she said, letting him see that she was wearing the bracelet he'd had engraved for her, "and knows what to say and do."

Warming up to her theme, she continued, "I want the Damian who still sleeps with a doll. But if I'm ever in that bed, Woody will have to find other accommodations."

"That's what Little Emily is for," Damian responded.

She swayed her hips a little, brushing lightly across his front. "Little Emily? I like it."

Damian looked down on her greedily. "Tell me what else you want."

"I want the Irish charmer no one can resist, least of all me. I want your sapphire eyes and big hands all over me," she said, leading him to the sofa.

As she lay back with Damian hovering over her, she continued "I want the age difference, so I can sometimes think of you as a little boy…." She bent her outside leg so it was wrapped around Damian's back then pushed him down closer "….and treat you like one."

Trying to maintain his balance, Damian said hastily "Luckily, compared to me, you'll always be the old woman." (Should I have said older?) he asked himself.

Emily smiled sweetly. "You ever call me that again, honey, and your balls will sit on my knickknack shelf, painted a shiny green, with your name cut into them."

In a moment of glib inspiration, Damian responded "It's the rare woman, indeed, who can increase your arousal while threatening castration. Tell me what else you want."

"I want to be fawked senseless again," she answered, doing her best imppression of his accent. I want all of you…deep…kisses..."

Try as he might, Damian couldn't get comfortable on the sofa. He finally sat up and positioned Emily on top of him.

"I hate this couch," he said, "it's too short for my legs."

"It's supposed to be short," she explained, "it's a love seat. And I like it."

He placed his hands possessively on her rear. "I like this love seat," he said with a mischievous grin. "Anyway, there are a couple of things I wanted to say."

"That's my Damian…get what you want and want more," Emily observed. "Talk to me."

He looked slightly abashed as he began, "Do you remember you first came to me, thinking I had been without sex for so long that it was having a bad effect on me?"

She nodded and he continued "You're a smart woman, Emily, and I'm a good-looking young foreigner...with some money, living in LA." He looked directly in her eyes and asked, "Did you really think I wasn't gettin' any?"

She laughed in delight and said "when you put it that way, it does seem a little ridiculous. I guess I just wanted to think that you needed me."

He answered "I did need you then, I just didn't know it. I know I need you now."

They were both quiet for a moment then Emily said, "Oh my God. Did you do that on purpose?"

"No," he answered, returning to Alex's voice, "but just go with it."

She laughed again and asked "was there anything else?"

"Oh, yes. Since Sunday my computer has blown up with anything I could find on Emily Vasquez."

She moved on his lap so her legs were on either side of him. "Really, like what?"

He answered "video clips from the show, I downloaded all of your music and I have this one folder I've spent a lot of time on."

"Does it have a cute name," she asked.

"In big letters for anyone to see it says 'What I can sing to make Emily twinge,'" he answered. "Bryce has been particularly helpful with that."

Emily was really enjoying herself now. "So you think you've got a winner," she said. "Hit me with your best shot."

Damian put his hands behind his head and stretched out his legs, crossed at the ankles, the picture of laid back confidence, and began in his rich baritone, "You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…"

He had chosen That Lovin' Feelin', a song that had induced twinges in women for decades. Emily leaned her head back, thrusting her pelvis against his, "Oh, McG….mission accomplished."

She stood up. "Keep singing," she said, pulling him up with her, "I have something more comfortable than the love seat."

She inserted bits of harmony into Damian's song, while they shed their clothes on the way to the big plush bed in the far corner of the studio apartment.

As they fell onto the bed, he was singing "Baby, baby, I'd get down on my knees for you…"

They ignored the simultaneous buzzes from their phones. The message that flashed across the screens read

Hey, guys. Guess you've had time to clear the air and make up. Sorry for meddling, except that I'm not. From here on, I'll let nature take its course, but I do hope the two of you are gettin' busy. It would be a shame to waste so much combined talent. Love, Alex