V1.01
Angie smacked her forehead onto the L&L countertop for what was quite possibly the seventh time that night. She had messed up. She had messed up, and she had no one to blame but herself.
"3C if you need a cup of sugar!"she had said.
How stupid.
God, she would never live it down if Peggy ever found out!
"Stupid. Stupid, Martinelli…"
She couldn't believe herself. How in the world did she manage to get that, of all things, wrong?
Images of Peggy, features slack in a rare moment of unguarded amazement, helpfully reminded Angie that she'd been able to think of little else at the time. At least until the woman had flat-out refused the idea of moving in once she found out Angie would be her neighbor.
"I'm thinking maybe it's me…"
It had practically been a confession, and Angie regretted even saying it. Especially when Peggy's response essentially amounted to an "it's not you, it's me" line.
At least Angie didn't have to worry about Peggy ever finding out how badly she'd screwed up.
She groaned and smacked her head for the eighth time.
"Well, there you go!" Angie announced happily. "All moved in!"
"Thank you for your help, Angie. Truly."
Angie shrugged and offered a smile, still silently marveling that Peggy had changed her mind and moved in. After the interview with Miss Fry, they'd spent about fifteen minutes transporting a few boxes of the brunette's belongings to their floor, and Angie still couldn't get over how very little Peggy actually owned.
The two made their way into the hall from apartment 3E—Peggy's apartment. Then, with a wink and a wave, Angie made her way next door. She jerked her head at her apartment door when she reached it. "You know where to find me if you need anything." She put the key in the lock. "See you at dinner, English!"
"Angie."
The cautiously curious call stopped the waitress in her tracks. "Yeah?"
"I thought you lived in 3C?"
Eyes wide, Angie looked at the number on her door.
3D stared back at her as her words from the other night rolled around in her memory.
"3C if you need a cup of sugar!"
Angie's jaw worked as she weighed the merits of a lie—assuming she could think of one—and the likelihood of getting away with said lie. "I…"
Peggy waited for an answer. Angie was caught in her stare, piercing and inquisitive.
She swallowed past her nervousness and put on the smile she wore when complimenting Peggy's legs, praying to whoever could hear her that Peggy's initial refusal hadn't been for the reasons she'd thought. "Honestly, English, I must have been so taken in by you that I forgot my apartment number."
And slowly, the piercing look bloomed into that brilliant smile that made Angie feel like she could flirt all she wanted. Her stomach flipped pleasantly at the sight, and her chest felt full.
A final rap of her knuckles underneath the 3D on her door. "3D," she said, her voice heavy even to her ears. She opened her door, and slid in with a saucy wink, "If you need some sugar."