Zeke was in a quandary. He looked across the table at Clio, at her beautiful face. It was the only face he'd dreamed of for as long as he could remember. He could still recall with vivid clarity the feeling he had as she walked across the vast lobby of her building toward him when she turned twelve, that feeling of simultaneously thinking he could fly away if he wanted to, and wanting to run to the bathroom and barf his guts out. He'd been sitting in a chair waiting for her as she emerged from the elevator with her father, dressed in her special birthday outfit, long hair cascading down her back, just glowing as she came toward him as he waited with the butterfly bracelet he'd chosen for her.

He remembered being aware of his mother hovering behind him, and hoping she wouldn't say anything stupid at an inopportune time, anything that would force him to sink into the ground and die of embarrassment. Clio, whose father was Pete Santangelo, surely never had to worry about anything like that, he remembered thinking.

And now they were here, at the fabled Rainbow Room, sitting with their Champagne Cocktails and caviar appetizers after their wonderful sushi dinner at Masa's, getting ready for a night of dancing. Clio looked absolutely ravishing in her shimmering pink dress and heels, and smelled like heaven, and Zeke knew he was the envy of the room to have her on his arm.

Could life be any better?

Well, yes, it could, couldn't it? Zeke knew that Clio was here with him because she was devastated about Archie Spencer, and determined to move on with her life. He knew that one sentence from him about what really happened could erase that line of misery from between her brows, could lift the cloud of anguish that hovered over her.

But he'd given his word to Archie that he wouldn't tell.

And besides, if he told, Clio would take herself, with her heavenly smell and beautiful face and glorious body away from him. She would take all of her perfection and gloriousness back to undeserving Archie, and just when he, Zeke, who'd been waiting for her all his life, had gotten her, too.

It just wasn't fair.

"Zeke? Don't you think so?"

"What?"

Zeke tuned back in to find Clio looking at him in amusement, her adorable pink mouth curved up in a little smile, dimple popping in her cheek as she blinked her dark brown eyes at him, long lashes curly perfection in the dim light of the Rainbow Room.

"I asked if you didn't think they lit these places with this kind of dark, incandescent uplighting on purpose to make everyone look good?" Clio shook her head at Zeke. "What are you thinking about? You're a million miles away."

Zeke smiled back at Clio. "You must be right, because you look amazing." He put on his best Cary Grant smirk. "Just stick with me, baby, I'll take to you to the bright lights of Hollywood, just you wait and see." He leaned forward and chucked Clio's chin gently.

Clio sat back and laughed, a bright, bubbly sound that turned heads their way from the other tables.

"You're terrible at that, truly," she said, shaking her head again.

Zeke made a point of looking hurt as he took a sip of his champagne. "You'd better be nice to me, or I'm not taking you to Hollywood, I don't care how gorgeous you are."

Clio made a face, scrunching up her nose. "I wouldn't make it there, anyway, it's too slick? I'm such a fuddy-duddy, you know?"

"You mean you're too nice?"

"I guess." Clio considered. "I don't have much of a head for subterfuge, you know?"

Zeke covered her hand with his. "I do know, and it's one of the things I like most about you." He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it. "How about we dance, what do you say?"

Clio nodded. "Thought you'd never ask. Let's go."

So he escorted her out to the slowly revolving dance floor and took her in his arms. Clio was a tall girl, but Zeke was a tall boy, so they were perfectly matched, and they moved and twirled smoothly about the floor to the sounds of the swing band as the cityscape of New York City spun 360 degrees around them.

"You are the most beautiful couple in the room," an older woman in pearls told them as they danced by her and her escort.

"Oh no, but thank you so much," Clio responded with a smile, tightening her grip on Zeke's shoulder.

Zeke put his cheek against Clio's hair, resolutely pushing thoughts of Archie out of his head. This was his night, his and Clio's, dammit.

But Clio was Archie's girl.

No! Clio belonged to no one, she was no one's property, Archie himself would be the first person to say so, wouldn't he?

Besides, they'd broken up, that's why Clio was here with him, in his arms, dancing.

"Zeke?" Clio's breath was warm in his ear.

"Yes?"

"Thank you so much for bringing me here. This is so fun."

Zeke tightened his arms around her, the girl of his dreams, momentarily. "It's my pleasure, Miss Clio, you know that."

They continued to dance, even some of the faster numbers. They'd gone to school together since pre-school, and had learned all kinds of dances in phys-ed, even the old fashioned ones like the foxtrot and the Charleston.

"I think Miss Mabel would be proud of us," Clio cried as they clapped at the end of the dance, slightly out of breath. Miss Mabel had been their dance instructor.

"I never, ever, thought I'd do that in public," Zeke declared, pulling at the collar of his shirt as he led Clio outside to the terrace so they could cool off. They couldn't stay out for very long, since it was a frigid January night, but it felt delightful for a couple of minutes to feel the cold air against their warm skin. Zeke kept his arm around Clio's shoulder until he felt her shiver, turning her then to lead her back inside.

"Wait just a second," Clio said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Clio, it's thirty degrees out here, you're going to turn into a--a Clio-sicle," Zeke said with a laugh.

"I want--I want you to kiss me," Clio said softly. "Before we go in, okay?"

Zeke looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

Clio nodded. "Really." She put her arms around his neck and stepped closer so their bodies were touching.

Zeke nodded. He needed no other encouragement. He put his arms around her, and slid his hands up into her hair, leaning forward until their lips touched in the frosty night air on the sixty-fifth floor of Rockefeller Center, with the city spread out and glittering around them.

Clio's lips were soft and warm and inviting, just like he'd known they'd be, and Zeke let out a moan of happiness when he touched them with his. He felt her mouth curve up in a smile when she heard him, and this in turn made him smile, too. He didn't part his lips, not until he felt her part hers, because he didn't want to presume anything, but when he felt her soft tongue darting in and touching the seam where his lips met, he did, just a little, and met her tongue with his, fulfilling a dream he'd had for very nearly his whole life.

Zeke nearly swooned, standing on the deck of the Rainbow Room holding Clio Santangelo in his arms and kissing her. He broke the kiss and went in again from a slightly different angle, moving his hand to cup her smooth cheek, unable to believe he was here, doing this.

Finally, he felt Clio shiver again, and stopped, pulling her even closer.

"Wow," he whispered. "Thank you for that, Clio."

Clio laughed softly, leaning her head on his shoulder, giving him a little shake. "That's an unusual response, but I'll take it, I guess. And you're welcome, Zeke."

"We'd better get you inside for real, I think, okay?" And Zeke was laughing by now as well.

"Okay. Okay."

So they went back inside, arm in arm, to warm up with more champagne and dancing, still laughing together.

And while they were moving to the music, once again, the image of Archie's face came, unbidden, into Zeke's mind once more.

He owed it to Clio, one of his oldest friends, and Archie, one of his new friends, to tell Clio the truth about what had happened at the party, didn't he? That lovely kiss notwithstanding, he, Zeke, knew Clio still loved Archie. She deserved to know the truth.

But he'd given Archie his word. Didn't that mean something? He shouldn't break his word, should he? He was a person of honor, wasn't he? Especially when keeping his word would mean he could be with Clio?

But did he want Clio under these circumstances? Under false pretenses, as it were?

But did he really care? If false pretenses were the only pretenses under which he could have her, wouldn't he take them?

Zeke was getting dizzy, and he knew that it had nothing to do with the champagne or the revolving dance floor, or even his feelings for the wonderful girl he was holding. It was from the gyrations of his mind, pure and simple.

They sat back down and Zeke poured them more champagne, then promptly excused himself to use the men's room.

Clio nodded and happily sat back to people watch while he was gone.

Zeke went and used the facilities, then leaned against the wall next to the beautifully appointed sink after splashing cold water on his face, just to give himself time to think.

If he told the truth, which would be the hard thing, he'd be breaking his word, and, more importantly, he'd lose Clio.

If he didn't tell, if he did nothing, he felt like he'd be losing his honor, and he felt like his being with Clio would be a big fat lie, that she wouldn't really be with him, Zeke, she'd be with fake Zeke, ersatz Zeke.

Oh god, what a mess.

"What's the matter, young man?"

The bathroom attendant, an old man with snowy white hair, who had to be about a hundred, sat in a chair next to the wall, holding out a towel to him, smiling, encouraging him to take it.

"You said something was a mess," the old man told him.

Oh. Zeke hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. He took the towel from the man, thanking him and tipping him for his trouble.

"I'm just having a bit of a dilemma, not sure what to do, you know?"

"Well, I'll tell you what I tell my great grandson whenever he comes to me for advice," the snowy-haired gentleman said, putting his hands together under his chin.

"What's that?" Zeke responded politely, putting the towel in the used towel bin.

"In any given situation, the hardest thing to do is usually the right thing to do," the man said with a beatific smile.

Zeke gave the old man a look of anguish.

"I can see that my words aren't what you wanted to hear, but you have to trust me, I'm right, you'll see." The man with the white hair nodded.

"Great. Thanks." Zeke exited the bathroom feeling as low as he ever had.

What should he do?