Perdie waited at the entrance of the elevator on the fifth floor counting backwards from ten. She smoothed out the sleeves of her cobalt blue blazer and checked the collar to make sure the tag wasn’t sticking out. In a surge of optimism, she’d donned matching white lace undergarments too.
She had been issued a new firm cell phone that morning. Luckily, not many questions were asked by the IT department as more than a few attorneys had been known for breaking phones in much more nefarious ways. Still, Carter wasn’t returning her texts and was only responding to impersonal business emails.
Perdie silently swore at herself. What did she expect? They worked together, and he was senior to her. The possibility of this kind of awkward scenario had loomed and she’d gone ahead and let her feelings rear their ugly head anyway.
But it was wrong that he would be so avoidant of her under such unfair circumstances. She couldn’t have eschewed standing him up. It wasn’t like she’d planned for an awful ex to show up at her condo and her friend (and client) to step on a rusty nail.
But also she wasn’t exactly blameless for the whole scenario going down either. Her actions had pushed the dominos into motion.
The timing couldn’t have been worse.
At any rate, she was prepared to be the bigger person and apologize which was not typically her MO.
She made her way through the winding hallway and knocked on Carter’s already open door. He was turned partially away, facing his computer screen, in a soft gray button-up. His hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it, a tic of his, and his face was more darkened with stubble than she’d ever seen. Sexy as always, effortlessly, irritatingly so. But more than all that, he appeared tired as hell. A pang of guilt stabbed her sternum, not that she had any reason to believe his tiredness had something to do with her.
She swallowed hard but stepped past the threshold of the door. “Are you avoiding me?”
His gaze flitted from his computer, eyebrows raised, turning in his chair to face her. She resisted the urge to smooth down her hair or straighten her blazer.
She bit her cheek, but after a moment he answered. “Avoiding would be the wrong word.”
The answer lit her up. Perhaps they were falling into old habits quickly and there wasn’t anything else deeper or darker behind Carter’s sudden radio silence. She smiled, setting into a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “What’s the right word?”
He sighed, smoothing his thumb and index finger over his eyebrows. “You know what? I’m not in the mood to play games with you right now.”
Her throat tightened. Words bubbled up and over. “I wasn’t playing games. I swear to god. It was a freak accident, and as soon as I could, I tried to get a hold of you. If you hadn’t ignored me you would know how much I wanted to see you that night. I would never stand you up on purpose.”
He rocked back in his chair and put his hands out like he meant to soothe her. “Okay...okay. It’s okay.” He took a breath, letting his chair drop. “I’m sorry. I was ignoring you, and it wasn’t right. And I agree. Your behavior was reasonable given the situation. Necessary even. It’s just...” He shifted in his chair, considering his words. “You hurt my feelings. I wouldn’t have forgotten about our date until several hours later. That’s so...”
She waited for him to finish as his words trailed off. She couldn’t ignore the heavy pit in her stomach from seeing him this way. She felt bad. Guilty.
He closed his eyes with a slight shake of his head. “It’s more than that. I’m a sensitive person. I’m beginning to feel like a fool chasing you around. And one minute I think it’s exactly what you want from me and then the next minute you’re giving me a totally different message. Been this way since moment go. And at some point, I have to ask myself: Am I the asshole here? Am I pushing you into something beyond your emotional capabilities? Look, I’m not completely ignorant. I know the effect my physical appearance can have on people. I’ve been benefiting from it my whole life. But I don’t want to push you into something because of how I look. I was really trying to...make a real relationship happen between us.”
Perdie’s eyes went wide and a reflexive panic set in her chest. “Whoa, whoa, a relationship? We barely even know each other. I thought we were going on a date. That’s what we agreed to. A date with maybe some extracurriculars afterwards. You can’t pretend like I’m emotionally stunted when I agreed to the terms you yourself laid out.”
He shrugged. “I’m a guy who wants a real connection. But not at the expense of what someone else wants. I can’t be your go-to sex guy. It’s not in my DNA.”
Perdie let out a breath, her eyes closing. “It’s not fair to expect something out of me that I’m not ready to give.”
“That’s why I’m staying away. It’s not the fact that you stood me up that hurts. It’s the fact that you barely even tried to make things better. You could have at least called on Sunday. It might be nice to know that you care...like...a little bit.”
“Are you kidding? You ignored my emails. Ghosting someone is a pretty clear sign that you should leave them alone, and you ghosted on me. I’m not trying to be some kind of stalker.” Perdie was so used to such emotionally stunted men that she couldn’t even call them twice in a row without getting called crazy. And here was Carter, asking her to try a little harder.
“Stalker? You avoid me half the time. Can you blame me if I might need a little more convincing that you really wanted to see me? You pointed it out yourself: I can persuade you with sex or games or whatever else but that’s wrong. I’m not in the business of tricking someone into intimacy. Or at least, I really don’t want to be. And I can’t pretend it’s only sex I want. And you can’t pretend it’s not. I think that has become pretty clear. But bottom line, I wish you’d have fought for this. At least a tiny bit.” He regarded her steadily. “We’re at a stalemate.”
That wasn’t entirely true. But the situation was messy enough having to work together. There was no challenge in his voice but there was something in his eyes. Like he was waiting for her to object. Waiting for her to tell him he was wrong.
Dammit, fight for him, Perdie. Do it. Do it.
But he was breaking off more than she could chew. So, instead, she choked.
She nibbled on her lower lip, mind uneasy. Finally, she cleared her throat. “I sent you the first draft of that complaint for the Fletcher Group. I’ll be on the lookout for your notes.”
Carter steepled his hands on his desk, resting his chin against them. “I expect we’ll be making a few trips out to San Francisco after the holidays to meet with them.”
“Well, at least it’s better than North Dakota.” She regretted the words as soon as they slipped from her lips.
Carter stared at her for a long moment. “Right.”
Perdie scratched the top of her head, voice quiet. “I should go.” She braced her arms on the chair to leave but Carter’s words made her pause.
“I want you to know, I still have your back at work. This personal...stuff between us doesn’t change anything. Okay?”
She stood, pulling at the cuff of her blazer. “Ah, thanks. I guess I’ll—”
“See you Friday?”
“Friday?”
He gave a small smile. “The holiday party.”
Shit. It’d slipped her mind. And she wouldn’t even have a date to take along. Her stomach lurched. “Yeah, should be really fun.”
She turned to leave as Jennifer and Sophia were entering the room.
“Oh, Perdita.” Jennifer’s tone was harsh, but her mouth was curved in a smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I was leaving, actually.”
“Did you get a chance to read the memo I sent around—”
“I’ll get right on it as soon as I get to my office.” Perdie brushed by without so much as a glance over her shoulder.
“Wow. She looks like hell.” Sophia’s voice carried into the hallway.
“Stop being so damned stubborn and let me do the damned winged eyeliner on you.” Lucille chased Perdie from the living room to the kitchen island, wielding her Marc Jacobs black eyeliner like a weapon. They squared off, the island acting as a barrier.
“I’m skipping the party,” Perdie declared dramatically. She posed like a Street Fighter character, ready to jolt. Her winter-white beaded scoop-neck shift dress shimmered beneath the light fixture.
She juked left but Lucille’s reflexes proved quick, anticipating Perdie’s moves. Lucille jumped left too, snatching Perdie’s forearm before she could flee her fate.
“Lies,” Lucille declared. “You care too much about your career to skip the holiday party. Now, let me make you look nice.”
“Don’t you have to leave?”
Undeterred, Lucille dragged Perdie to the couch and yanked her down. “Knox Family Christmas can wait. Now, look up. No, with your eyes. Jesus Christ, sometimes I wonder about you.”
Perdie sighed, giving up the fight, and lifted her gaze to the ceiling as Lucille’s hand closed in on her face, gliding the liner over Perdie’s eyelid in a tickling sweep. Lucille had already finished most of Perdie’s makeup—the foundation, the contrast, the highlight, the falsies, the shimmer. She’d also put Perdie through an hour of hair curling to produce a perfect Old Hollywood S curl.
But for some reason, the longer it took, the more anxious Perdie became.
“Now use the brilliant berry liquid lip with a high-sheen gloss,” Lucille advised like a very stern professor. “You can carry bright colors like nobody else I know, and it would be a tragedy for you to miss out on an opportunity to make Carter Leplan eat his own self-righteous words.”
Perdie tried not to blink as Lucille added finishing touches. Then Lucille gently placed the lipstick and gloss inside Perdie’s vintage silver clutch.
Perdie fluttered her eyes, adjusting to the heavy makeup and lashes, then examined her face in Lucille’s little hand mirror. “You really are good at this.”
“And you look like a perfectly sharp, murderous, little Christmas icicle.” Lucille pinched Perdie’s chin, moving her face a little to the left and then right. “Just like I wanted you to be.” She booped Perdie’s nose with her index finger.
The tune of the doorbell caused Bananas to let out a few muffled whou-whous before the door quietly cracked open.
“I brought champagne. Does your family like champagne?” Noah stepped into the living room, his tall form holding out two cardboard carriers of champagne in offering.
“Everybody loves champagne. But I don’t think we’ll need twelve bottles. Actually, on second thought...” Lucille jumped up and caught Noah in a big hug. His eyes widened at her embrace. She quickly dropped her arms as if caught in the act of a crime, took a carrier from Noah, and set it on the coffee table. “Doesn’t Perdie look amazing?”
Noah bent down to scratch Bananas on the head as he nodded. “Yes. Amazing.” But he was staring at Lucille the whole time.
Lucille picked up her paint-splattered leather duffel and rummaged in the closet for her coat and scarf. “You sure you’re going to be okay without me?” she asked over her shoulder.
Perdie sat primly on the couch, careful not to disturb dress, hair, or makeup. “Believe it or not, I’m capable of being on my own for a few days. Besides, I’ll have Bananas.”
Lucille walked over and kissed Perdie on the cheek. “Text me, call me, telegram me, smoke signal if you need anything.” Then she turned to Noah. “You ready to blow this joint?”
Noah gave a slight bow. “Yes, I look forward to the new experience.”
Lucille grabbed him by the arm, pulling him out. “Buddy, you are gonna love the laid-back, crunchy lifestyle of Asheville. Be safe, P. Have fun tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do...” And she closed the door behind them.