Manipulated by Kayla Melody Page B

what do I say?
                  She wasted fifteen minutes contemplating before she decided that she was stalling. She got up and went.
     
    *   *   *
     
                  “It's open,” came Dan's voice form behind the door.
                  Emma took one final deep, reassuring breath. She twisted the handle, and peeked around the door. “Can I come in?”
                  “That's what 'it's open' tends to imply,” Dan said.
                  Normally she'd have had a sarcastic response of her own, but tonight she was trying to play it cool. Demure, or if not demure, than at least non-confrontational. That part would come later. So instead of replying, Emma just let herself in.
                  She took three steps toward the bed and paused. Dan was sitting up against the headboard, watching something on TV, his white satin night shirt hanging open. She was shocked at how good he looked. His face – which she'd always thought of as too rugged for a computer programmer – had none of its characteristic tension, and even sitting down she could see the traceries of abs on his stomach. His skin was tan and smooth, almost entirely hairless. At twenty-five, he must have been stunning.  At forty, he still looked pretty damn good.
                  He must have noticed her pause, because he was speaking again. “Can I help you with something?”
                  “I – I don't know,” Emma managed, and forced herself into motion again. She made her way around to the other side of the bed, and sat down on the edge. “What are you watching?”
                  “Iron Chef,” Dan said. He wasn't looking at her. In fact, now that she was seated, he didn't seem to remember or care that she was in the room at all.
                  Emma shifted on the bed, swinging her feet and propping herself against the headboard in a mirror of his posture. “What's it about?” she said, although she actually knew. She just needed to be saying something.
                  “Do you remember the Wizard of Oz ?” He said. She nodded, but he was already continuing. “The books I mean, not the movie. The first time Dorthy meets the Tin Woodsman, he's rusted to a standstill, and it's only after she oils him that he turns into the character we all know and love. But, you see, tin doesn't rust  - only iron rusts. Therefore, he must have actually been an Iron Woodsman. Later, in one of the return to Oz books, he gives up the woodsman trade and devotes himself entirely to the culinary arts. Thus is born the Iron Chef.”
                  Emma was staring at him outright, now. That was the most ridiculous lie she'd ever heard – and yet it did make sense in an odd way. Internally consistent, almost plausible, and seemingly created right off the cuff.
                  “Anyway,” Dan said, still seemingly oblivious to her presence save as an audience for his own brilliance, “It's basically nothing like that.”
                  Had that been... a joke? “What?” she said.
                  Dan shrugged. “Cooking,” he said. “It's about cooking. The theme ingredient is squid. Now shut up or get out.”
                  Once again, Emma bit back a retort. Demure , she thought to herself, keep it demure . They sat in silence for fifteen minutes, him watching the show and her watching him, before she found another opening. The show had nearly run its course, and it was time for the chefs to present their dishes to the judges. The celebrity guest judge was a popular Chinese actress, who'd recently exploded into fame in America as well as her home country. “She's pretty,” Emma said.
                  Dan gave a noncommittal grunt. “A little skinny, for my taste.”
                  Emma frowned. As a relatively skinny girl herself, his