A rose by any other name...

"It's not a date," Emily insisted.

"He asked you to go out on a Friday night after work. To a gallery and dinner."

"Yea, but," she started to say. "It's some mingling thing."

"And you're wearing a little black dress to work and stockings!"

"I want to look pretty," Emily said.

"Because it's a date!"

"It's not, though," she insisted.

"Well what would you call it then, Em?"

"I don't know..." She lowered her eyes, bit her lip. "Maybe...maybe it is. A date."

"See!"

"Should...should I cancel? I mean, I...I can...if you want."

I swallowed, was suddenly coy myself.

"I mean," she said, "if you don't want me to go out. With him. On a date."

"Em..."

"I can call and cancel..."

"Emily..."

"I just thought, you know, it's been awhile since I've been out. On a date. With a man. And I was kind of...kind of looking forward to it."

"Fuck, Emily!"

"But if you rather I stay home, I don't have to go out. On a date. With a man."

"You don't play fair, Emily."

"No, sweetie, no I don't."