A/N: I'm currently drafting a fanfic based on the current Carla/Peter storyline on Corrie, but as I have found some of my old fanfic drafts, I felt more inspired to upload and re-write some of these first.

This story takes place two weeks following Peter and Leanne's wedding blessing, and Maria has just begun working as Carla's PA in the factory.

February 28th, 2011

Peter sat in the pub, casually twirling the glass of orange juice in front of him. Lloyd and Steve sat across from him, both filling him in on the ridiculous stories from the switchboard at Streetcars. He laughed along with them, not really paying much attention, but welcoming their attempts to take his mind of recent events. He knew they were just trying to make sure he was okay, and if he was honest, it was a rather welcomed change from the normal tea and sympathy with his dad and Deirdre at number 1.

It had been just under two weeks since his wedding blessing to Leanne had ended in catastrophe. A catastrophe of his own planning, he admitted. Outing his shiny new bride's affair with her ex-husband to the entire congregation was definitely the gossip the likes of Norris was salivating about for days after. Leanne had begged him to give her another chance, assuring him that what had happened between her and Nick meant nothing, and that he was the man she loved, but he couldn't believe her. Even as she tried again the following day, as she tearfully said goodbye to Simon, he couldn't bring himself to forgive her for betraying him.

It wasn't until he was convinced by his dad to give her another chance that he found himself running through Piccadilly station, as fast as he could with his crutch; racing against the clock before her train departed for London. But as he found himself on the platform, he came to a grinding halt.

There she was, with him. Kissing him.

Nick flaming Tilsley.

He wanted to say his heart broke at the sight but surprisingly it hadn't. Maybe he was numb to it, but instead of sadness, he felt a sense of anger mixed with relief. He knew she had been lying about how she didn't love her ex anymore. It was as clear as day to him. He could never trust that she wouldn't always want Nick over him.

His eyes met hers, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Her face became awash with regret and as she tried to rush over to him, he turned his back and left the platform, ignoring her pleas and apologies as they echoed across the station.

She had tearfully boarded the train with Nick, and Peter had visited a solicitor's office the following day. He didn't want to wait another day to get the ball rolling on the annulment papers.

He wasn't naive.

He knew they would be back. After all Nick owned The Joinery and Leanne was the manageress. The Platts lived here, and Janice. Peter knew he hadn't seen the last of them. He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of the cold juice, just as the doors to the Rovers opened.

He heard her before he saw her.

That throaty laugh of hers, followed by the sound of her heels clicking along the floor as she entered the pub behind her workforce, arms linked with Maria.

Carla.

The other woman he had called out at the blessing.

He instinctively leaned his elbows onto the table, his fingers circling the rim of the glass as he watched her. She hadn't seen him yet, much to his benefit. His eyes raked over her body, starting from those high heeled boots of hers, up to the curve of her hips, all the way up to the dark hair she casually flicked over her shoulder as she ordered a round of drinks for her workers.

"...oh and a glass of white and a glass of red, please Seany," she drawled out as she pulled the money out of her wallet, "and 'ave a glass for yourself an' all."

"Cheers, Mrs. C. I'll bring them over." Sean replied as he took the notes from her hand.

It was then, as she turned to head into the booth behind her, that she locked eyes with him. The beautiful smile she had suddenly faded; the colour draining slowly from her face.

He smirked at her, and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat before quickly sliding into the booth beside Maria.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle, drawing the piqued interest of Steve and Lloyd. "Sommit we should know?" Lloyd asked, his arms crossed in front of him

"Eh?" Peter responded

"Oh, come on. Let us in on the joke." Steve said, "you've got a right look on your face."

The bookie chuckled into his juice, "oh just remembered one of them silly jokes Simon told me today."

"Oh right," Steve brought his hand up to stroke his chin, "and it has nothing to do with the certain brunette that owns the factory down the road who just 'appened to walk in, does it?" he motioned to the booth behind him with his thumb.

"That obvious?"

Steve pulled a sarcastic face, "nah not at all."

Peter smirked and downed the rest of his orange juice, "Well, think I best make a move, lads! Simon will be driving me dad and Dierdre up the wallpaper by now."

"Oh right, yeah" Lloyd and Steve muttered along, "Simon will be worrying, yep." They both exchanged a sideways glance and snickered.

Peter stood up with an eye roll, "Oh shut it..." Grabbing his coat, he walked past them before slipping right into the next booth. His eyes watching the dark haired woman across from him as the wine glass she had brought to her lips paused, her green eyes slowly raising up to meet his.

"Hello Carla." His voice was low and throaty and sent shivers down her stomach. She took a tentative sip of her wine, before placing the glass as steadily as she could down on the table.

"Hiya," she responded quietly, "How are ya?"

"Top of the world." His gaze moved to Maria, who was glaring at him over her wine glass, "Maria." he nodded at her

"Peter." The hairdresser responded back cooly, causing a chuckle to emit from his lips before turning back to Carla.

"Well listen I won't keep you from whatever scintillating conversation I've obviously interrupted," he stated earning a scowl from Maria, "but I was wondering if you'd be free tomorrow night for a catchup?"

Carla's brows furrowed together, her eyes not leaving his. She inhaled slightly, "umm I don't know if that's a good idea Pe'er..." He smirked in spite of himself, the way she'd occasionally drop the 'T' from his name, just did things to him...

"Oh come on," he pressed, leaning forward on the table towards her, "just a catchup between friends. No ulterior motives I promise."

"You are joking?" Maria cut in, "And what? She's just supposed to trust you after that stunt you pulled at your wedding blessing?"

Peter watched as Carla's head dipped towards to the table, her eyes focusing on her hands in her lap as embarrassment danced across her features.

"Well, that's what I wanted to have a chat with you about. A private chat," he stressed, throwing a sideways glance at the hairdresser. Carla still hadn't raised her head up, so he leaned ever closer, "Carla?" his voice was barely above a whisper, but she raised her eyes to meet his, "Look, you can tell me to do one if you like. But I wanted the chance to talk to you. To explain," at her hesitancy he continued, "and to apologize." She breathed out, her eyes quickly darting uneasily to Maria. "Come on," Peter said, "come to mine tomorrow about half six. I'll make us some dinner. What do you say?"

Carla pursed her lips. Something felt off, but it also felt 'oh-so-right'.

"Okay. Half six it is." She responded, taking a sip of her wine.

"Great," He raised and dropped his hands on the table, as he leaned back and smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow then." He smoothly rose out of the booth, and threw her a winning smile, "Enjoy your drink," He turned and nodded at the hairdresser, "Maria."

"Night then," Carla responded as Peter walked past her and Maria rolled her eyes, and leaned in towards the older woman.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Carla. After what he did to you at the blessing, I'm surprised you would even want to give him the time of day." Maria stated, leaning back into the booth and taking a sip of wine.

"Look, other than Leanne, no one is more embarrassed then I am over what happened in that church, but I do know that I deserved what happened, Maria. I dunno, maybe this is a chance for us to bury the hatchet, you know?" Carla smiled at the woman next to her, "I'll be fine." she reassured her as she reached over and patted the blonde's knee. "Now let's talk about this potential client coming tomorrow: Frank Foster..."

Peter stood outside Number 1, having lit a cigarette and taking a long drag. He smiled in spite of himself. He hadn't expected his first meeting with Carla since their encounter in the church, to go that smoothly.

But ultimately, he knew she had a soft spot for him. She wouldn't have been able to resist the pull he had over her for long.

And he was going to exploit that weakness to get what he wanted.

He smiled as he blew out the smoke from between his lips. Oh yes, he had such delicious plans for the lovely Carla Connor ...