Here's Chapter 4 of Lemon's birthday fic. Hope you like it.
I own nothing of Revolution.
The campaign cruised along for Charlie, with everything meshing even better than she'd expected. The art team outperformed itself, creating a variety of print ads that amazed her, along with storyboards for a few commercials that would easily put Pittman's over the Monroe Republic. Her challenge was coming up with the presentation that would knock the socks off the board at MCC. It was a little like cramming for a final exam.
With her mind focused on the work she'd set aside for that evening, Charlie rushed into Nano's Dry Cleaners. She'd have to pick up some takeout on her way home; she was eating entirely too much fattening food, but she just hadn't had the time to cook.
Head down as she snagged the receipt from her purse, Charlie smashed into the back of the customer at the counter. Looking up to apologize, she came face to face with Bass. "I…sorry."
"Maybe you should pay attention," he snapped, turning away.
She had no idea what to say; the tension between them had changed. Forgetting what existed between them once on a hot summer night, all their other meetings had included professional jealousy, certainly, and competitive head-butting, to be sure. Not to mention the heavy sexual undertones that buzzed around them now just like it did then. But now there was genuine anger as well. It radiated off him like an electric current.
With the clerk searching for Bass's cleaning in the backroom, they were alone, and the awkward silence smothered a fidgety Charlie until she could no longer stand it. "I know we're not talking to one another, but you could…say hello."
Huffing out a breath, he glanced over his shoulder. "That would defeat the purpose. Not talking means keeping quiet."
"Okay, maybe I was a little rude the other day." Why was she trying to make nice with him? "Look, we're business rivals, but we were once...anyway, we're neighbors now. We could at least be civil."
He whirled, piercing her with his bright blue eyes. "The term neighbor suggests friendship. Someone you talk to when you're out watering the lawn. We live on the same street. That's pretty much the beginning and the end of it."
So much for making peace. "You are the biggest horse's ass."
"And I'm sick of this, Charlie." When the clerk came in, he grabbed his suit and marched toward the door. "You wanted me out of your way. Good enough. Now stay the hell out of mine."
Once more, the man cut her down in the blink of an eye. Every time he stormed away from her, it left a bigger hole. She'd adored him once, and as much as she thought she hated him, deep down, she knew that wasn't true. Nobody had the ability to cut her the way Bass did. For the past few years though, they'd at least been able to fashion out a mutual respect, even while taunting and trying to best one another. But that moment in the elevator back at the MCC offices had messed everything up.
Freshly laundered suit in hand, she stepped out into the warm, spring air. She'd had nothing but the potential new account on her mind for days. Now all of her thoughts were on the man vying to take it from her.
It was her fault. Something had changed the day of the meeting. A spark of magic from one special night, always simmering just below the surface, had come to life for an instant once again. The moment in the elevator. That one single, solitary moment when she realized he was going to kiss her. One more second with the doors closed and she would have been in his arms. Worst of all, she knew that the teenager that had wanted to be his was still there inside of her.
He hadn't missed her face as he'd stomped out the door. Good. Let her be upset; let it eat away at her. Crawling into his car, Bass scowled. He had no idea why he even cared. He was the one who had stopped it all; he was the one who had wanted it all to end. But there was a tickling at the back of his brain that just wouldn't stop.
After years of not seeing one another, they'd met at a charity ball. The kind of function where everyone screams wealth and the celebrities come out to play. Pittman's had thrown it, then invited top executives from every other agency in town. It was an effort to raise money for a good cause, but it was also a way to make rivals jealous.
He'd come to the ball, not only for the charity, but for the networking such an opportunity provided. Expecting a night of small talk and flattery, he'd planned an early escape. Walking into the grand hall, he'd encountered a sea of people, well-dressed and glamorous, and known his assumptions had been correct. And then, for the first time in years, he'd seen her. And damn it if his heart hadn't beat just a little bit faster.
Despite the actresses and socialites, Charlie had easily been the most beautiful woman in the room. While many women had swept their hair up for an elegant evening look, she wore hers down, dirty blonde waves spilling down her back. He couldn't remember the dress, only that it had been blue, like her eyes. And tight. It had hugged her curves in all the right places, but not in a way that made her appear cheap or easy. Actually, she'd looked like a goddess, like a fairytale princess come to life. And he'd ached for her the way he had one night seven years before.
Then they'd come face to face.
Everything had fallen apart quickly after they'd spoken, and they soon adopted the standoffish relationship that served them for the last two years. Now things between them were even worse.
Pulling into his driveway, he shut off the engine, his hazy mind again replaying the past. Grabbing his suit from the backseat, he stepped out, casting a glance toward the house across from his. Her house. What were the odds that they'd wind up living not just in the same town, but directly across the street from one another?
He'd been hard on her, and he knew it. After their encounter in the elevator, he'd gotten so angry, and he couldn't understand why the resentment still lingered. They'd treated each other that badly for years. But something had happened as they were passing between the floors. Something that might have changed everything and given them back that lost opportunity.
Shaking his head, he turned away and started toward the house. Charlie was not his problem. Whether or not she was hurt or upset was not his problem either. His staff had already delivered the perfect ad campaign, and all he had to do was present it. He needed to focus his concentration where it was necessary and forget her.
But his mind betrayed him. He'd never been able to forget the way he'd felt that one magical summer night.
Let me know what you think if you have a minute. :)
