Rita had long abandoned the check-in table, and the only sound in the lobby was that of Perdie’s high heels clacking against the hard marble floor. She retrieved her coat from the coat check, tugged the sash tight around her waist, and then leaned against a wall near the door. Waiting.
When Carter appeared, striding towards her like James Bond to a baccarat table, she examined her manicure nonchalantly, fake sipping her scotch. But she tripped on her heels attempting to cross one ankle over another. Shit. She straightened.
“Stalking me again?” she asked, feigning boredom.
He let out a low whistle. “You’re wasted, Bad Girl.”
She shrugged. “So what? It’s a party.”
He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, the gesture prompting her to face him. His eyes were green under the harsh lobby light. “Time to go home, don’t you think?”
“You don’t tell me what you do.” She turned her head away. “Besides, everything’s off between us. I’m over this.” She sneaked a peek at him.
He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that about a million times before.”
She bit back a laugh at her bluff being called out and cleared her throat. “But seriously. Jennifer and Sophia know something.”
“Like what?”
Perdie stiffened. “They said they needed to talk to me.”
“And?”
Perdie crossed her arms tight in front of her chest, attempting to balance her drink on the inside of her folded elbow. “And I told them to stop ruining a fun time. I wasn’t about to get called out at a party. How awkward.”
The corner of Carter’s mouth twitched. “I think I need to help you with your fact-finding skills.”
“Psh. Stop being so good at everything.”
“You don’t even know half the things I’m good at, yet.” His eyes glimmered. Agh. Sometimes all she wanted to do was fight with him. “C’mon, let me take you home.”
She huffed. “You’re not the boss of me.”
She was aware of her juvenile reaction, but a moment of silence passed as they both processed the meaning of her words.
Carter’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he rubbed his hand up and down the white faux fur of her coat sleeve. “I promise I only have the interest of your health in mind. You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, mark my words.”
“Plus, you don’t want me to flirt with Max anymore. Admit it.” She jabbed at his shoulder with her index finger, but his hand caught her own and held it against his body.
Then his voice dropped low and soft as he leaned in near her ear. “Oh, I definitely don’t want you to do that anymore.”
Even with her coat wrapped tightly around her, goose bumps prickled all over her arms and neck. And just like that, her tumbler of scotch slipped from her free hand—crash!—and exploded into shards, amber liquid snaking a path on the marble floor. Carter yanked Perdie against his chest and jumped from the wreckage.
“Okay, yeah,” she squeaked. “Maybe it’s time to go.” She wiggled her way out of his grasp. “But you’re not coming in.”
If he was disappointed, he didn’t let on. Part of her wished he would.
“Doorstep delivery it is.”
Carter located a Slippery When Wet sign tipped up near the lobby bathroom and moved it over Perdie’s broken glass. He ushered her out the door, his hand grazing her lower back.
The temperature dropped in the late hours of the night, but now it was humid too, leaving her chilly and damp. She had to concentrate while walking, her feet smarting with every step on the cobblestone street. One wrong move and she might crack an ankle bone clean in two. “Where are we even going? Shouldn’t we order a car?”
“I’m sober. Parked nearby.” Carter’s steps in comparison were smooth and steady. She admired his gorgeous profile through her haze.
“Shit.” The tip of her heel snagged on an uneven stone. She tumbled as her foot slipped from the shoe. She grasped Carter’s arm on her way to wiping out face-first.
“Whoa.” He caught her by the elbow, helping her upright.
“Fucking heels,” she muttered while disentangling.
“Why do you always wear them if they’re so painful?” He waited next to her while she unsuccessfully used him as a balance bar and attempted to wiggle her swollen foot back into the shoe.
She gritted her teeth, giving up with only one shoe on, the other hanging in her hand, and limped down the freezing ground. “Oh my god, how do I explain this? Hold on, let me pull out my dissertation on European cultural beauty standards for women. It all began in the mid fifteen hundreds when Catherine de Medici—Hey!”
Perdie’s reality shifted upside down as Carter knelt and hoisted her body over his shoulder, her arms and head dangling down his back and his hand squarely pressed on her ass.
Futility, she beat her fists against the muscle of his back. “Put me down, you brute.”
She let out a yelp as his hand landed in a sturdy smack against her behind. “You’re gonna break your goddamn ankle.”
“I’m gonna break your goddamn back. Where are you taking me?” Her head was swimming a bit hanging upside down.
But Carter walked with the ease of a man who didn’t have an entire grown woman slung over his shoulder. “Relax. We’re almost there.”
He led them down a quiet street with a row of parked cars. Bowing, he gently slid Perdie to the ground. When she regained composure, her head was dizzy, and not just from the drinks. She stood lopsided, holding one shoe.
In front of her was a gleaming black sports car. Carter retrieved his key fob, prompting the car to beep softly.
He really was James Bond.
She inclined her chin. “I don’t know what’s worse, the big-ass SUV—”
“A rental.”
“Or this tiny-ass Speed Racer, James Bond vehicle.”
“It’s a 911.”
“Can I drive it?”
“I’d prefer to Die Another Day.”
“I didn’t mean right now.”
He opened the door for her, and she folded into the vehicle. “‘Go, Speed Racer, go,’” she sang quietly. The door shut next to her.
Carter revved the car to life, the engine roaring like a chainsaw. His hand enveloped the silver gear shifter, and Perdie stared in fascination when he maneuvered their way out of the tiny space and sped down the empty side street, eventually exiting the peninsula and merging onto the Ravenel Bridge.
Perdie zoned out, hypnotized by the structured white beams zooming past as Carter shifted gears smooth as butter. The boat lights twinkled over the murky waters of the harbor surrounding them.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” The sides of Carter’s lips tugged upwards.
She groaned. “I’ll let you know tomorrow morning.”
“You want to see me in the morning?”
Perdie rolled her head on the headrest. “You always talk about these games we play, but you don’t really like to play games at all, do you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You, like...” she paused, concentrating on her words “...say how you feel.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “I’d grab your hand right now, if I didn’t have to shift gears.”
Perdie scrunched her nose. “Never met anyone like you.”
“That a bad thing?”
“Magic 8 Ball says ‘Reply hazy ask again later.’”
Carter chuckled. “And you say I’m weird.”
“Sixty-nine, sixty-nine,” she squealed as they arrived at Perdie’s gated entrance.
Amusement glinted in his eyes, and he punched the code in. “Thanks, I hadn’t forgotten.”
But Perdie was developing a weird feeling in her chest. The stress, the party, the sex, and most importantly all that mixed-up liquor-drinking had caught up with her. When Carter pulled up in front of her building, she hastily unlatched her seat belt and practically tumbled out of the car.
“Hey, why don’t you let me walk you upstairs?”
“No.” She steadied herself with both hands over the top of the passenger window. “You’ll make me cry again.”
Carter squinted, confused. “Perdie, I don’t under—”
But she was already hobbling up the stairs of her condo. She needed water. Yoga pants. Hell, underwear. And her head was spinning. The cold wind whipped around her.
When she got to her door, she leaned against the wooden railing by the stairs, giving Carter a big wave. “Bye,” she called. His expression remained bewildered but he complied, peeling slowly out of her parking lot when she opened the front door.
She stepped into the empty, dark space, a few bulbs twinkling from the baseboards, and hit the lights. That’s right. Lucille was gone. Nobody was home. Well, except for Bananas, thank god. She called for him, clapping against her thigh until the jingle of his collar broke through the silence in the house. He stretched long and yawned once near her feet, and she scooped him up, plopped down on the couch, and tugged a blanket on top of them.
“Bananas, you’re not gonna believe what your mommy did,” she mused absently as she stroked his head.
The wind was picking up pace and the trees were whirring a mournful howl. She hugged Bananas, suddenly wide awake.
Lucille was worried about Perdie being alone during the holidays for good reason. Namely, the paranoia that was brewing now.
Bam.
She jerked at a tree branch smacking against her window.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
She grabbed her phone, clutching it close as she typed.
P: Creepy noises outside. Freaking out.
Lucille: Oh god, it’s not Hampton, is it? Set the house alarm!
Hampton? Perdie hadn’t even considered the fact that Hampton could show up at any second. What would she do if he did? She’d signed up for self-defense classes once but then no-showed because of late nights at the office.
Perdie froze on the couch, her heart thumping erratically in her chest. Twilight Zone. Everything glared eerily. Nothing was safe. Dammit, why couldn’t she sober up?
She picked up her phone again, squeezing hard. Was she really going to do this?
Carter arrived in ten minutes flat. At his quiet knock, she shuffled over, still in her dress and coat, Bananas nestled in her arms, blanket tossed over her head like Darth Maul. She yanked the door open.
Carter paused in the entryway. “Ah...what happened to you in the span of ten minutes?”
“Lucille’s out of town, and I freaked myself out.”
She moved aside. He padded through the door, inclining his head. “Makes perfect sense.”
“Here, this way to the living room. You want anything to drink?” she asked over her shoulder. Carter shook his head, and they settled into the couch, his long legs outstretched on the worn leather. Perdie curled up on a cushion, still cocooned in her blanket. She let go of Bananas, whose grunty nose began working overtime to suss out the new person in the house. The instant calm of Carter’s presence almost alarmed her.
“So, we’re not going to mention the elephant in the room?” Carter gestured towards the fireplace. With his arm raised, the space on his lap was open for Bananas to crawl in and snuggle up.
“Oh, hello.” Carter stroked the dog’s round head, as Bananas let out a loud snoring-sigh.
A warm feeling washed over Perdie, but she shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Sometimes I get anxious when I’m drunk. I know I ran out of your car but—”
A rumble of a laugh came from Carter’s chest. “No, not that. That.” He gestured towards the fireplace again, and Perdie squinted.
“Oh. Yeah, that’s a painting we commissioned. It’s not that uncommon in Charleston to hang family portraits.”
The oil painting featuring Lucille, Perdie, and Bananas posed Renaissance style above the fireplace mantel had been there for so many years that Perdie didn’t even think twice about it anymore. It was simply a fixture of their lives.
Carter ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. “Now I know you’re definitely the weird one of the two of us. Although, it’s nice to see the face of the woman I’m so indebted to.”
Perdie let the blanket fall from her head to her shoulders. “I have another favor to ask you.”
“Go on.”
She stood, shedding her blanket and coat to the ground, and Bananas shuffled away, disgruntled by the disruption. “Unzip my dress?” She reached behind herself to show him the zipper. “The zipper’s hidden. Always sticks right by my hips.”
With her body wedged between his legs, Carter’s eyes darkened.
He brought his hands to either side of her hips, squeezing the soft flesh, firm but restrained. “Trying to kill me?” he asked, his voice weary.
“Hurrryyy, get me out of this thing.”
The blunt tips of his fingers brushed against the bare skin between her shoulder blades, pinching the small zipper. Visceral relief pummeled down her body as he pulled the zipper, the material slackening at her breasts and waist. He gave one quick yank when the zipper snagged at the flare of her hips, and then she was free to strip off the rest of her dress.
Before she could step away, Carter’s fingertips caressed the vulnerable skin of her back, gliding up and down. A small moan escaped her lips as he curled his fingers, the callused tips lightly scratching. She swayed on her feet.
“No bra either, huh?”
She grabbed his wrists and spun around, his mouth so close to her breasts he could almost be touching. His gaze roved over her.
Slowly she reached up to the left strap of her dress, letting it slip from her arm. She did the same with the right. The material dropped, exposing her breasts. Her hand clasped the dress below her bust line. His eyes closed briefly, like the vision caused him a moment of excruciating pain.
Her chest fell and rose harshly as she waited for him to touch her. Her eyelids shuttered. Her nipples beaded to aching points.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” she whispered.
Hot breath fanned over her skin at the press of his forehead against her sternum.
“Carter...”
Hands came to grip her waist and he craned his neck, chin resting against her. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m fine.” She grasped his hand, using it to palm her breast. She bit her bottom lip at the tough flesh finally pressed against her own naked skin. With her hand covering his, she squeezed, his fingers retracting against her flesh. Torment flooded his eyes. The need for more. Her unruly body swayed from side to side.
Another strangled groan from Carter. His hand slipped away. “Later,” he said. “Plenty of time later. Please, I’m begging you. Go put some clothes on before you kill me dead.”
Perdie took an unsteady step back as she lifted the dress to her sternum. “Ugh, why do you have to be so...” Her hazy mind searched for the word. “Good. Damn you.” And she stomped off to her bedroom to change.
When she returned, after donning her velvet-trimmed silk robe, she tossed a shirt and pair of pajama pants at Carter.
“Here. The T-shirt’s mine, but the pants belong to some guy Lucille used to hook up with. They should fit.”
Carter undid the cuffs of his shirt, his bow tie hanging loose around his neck in a short bumpy strip. She loved him undone like that.
He held up the T-shirt. “Earth Girls Are Easy?”
She shrugged. “If you don’t know that movie, I can’t help you, bucko.”
He flipped the garment over his shoulder and pointed to the snoring dog, who’d returned to his lap. “Thanks. Although I don’t think I’ll be moving anytime soon.”
Perdie bit back a smile at Bananas snoozing peacefully. “Good news, I shall offer you a reprieve.” She collapsed on the couch, her eyes heavy as iron. Absently she stroked the snoring dog’s head. “He has to go out before bed anyway. He’s fifteen.”
Perdie yawned big as her head fell against the back of the couch. “Gotta grab his leash and put my shoes on...” Another yawn overtook her.
A hand squeezed her knee. “I’ll take Bananas out for the night. Where’s his leash?”
She pointed vaguely towards the door. “Hung up over there.”
The weight besides her shifted, and she cracked an eye. Carter stood, gently placing Bananas on the floor.
“Okay...” she murmured. “But you gotta carry him up and down those stairs. He has a bad back...”
Carter’s voice...footsteps...the jingle of a collar...and then...everything faded to black.