Angie had put a little extra effort into getting ready the next morning, and it showed as she looked at her reflection. She'd colored her cheeks with a splash of rouge, the subtle coloring making her eyes stand out. Her hair had been let down from the curlers she'd put in, and sat alluringly about her face.
She'd even brushed and flossed her teeth twice in her nervousness.
With a sigh, she readjusted her skirt. Again, she fussed with her hair. She paced the room once or twice.
Then, when she was just beginning to think she was trying too hard, she heard voices in the hall. Odd, for such an early hour...
"…miliar with the ID and the Ego?" Angie heard as Miss Fry approached her door. She felt bad for whichever sap was on the other end of that conversation. Freud. Always bad news.
"Are they…children's characters?" Peggy's voice sounded through the hall, the note of feigned ignorance not lost on Angie.
But Freud… Angie couldn't help feeling as if her stomach had dropped. Did Miss Fry know what had happened between her and Peggy? As Angie listened to the matron drone on about governing impulses and protection from compulsions, it was hard to imagine she didn't.
"Miss Carter!" Miss Fry snapped in a harsh clipped tone.
She knows! Angie panicked.
"Your laundry?"
Baffled, Angie listened to Miss Fry's brisk footsteps as the woman headed towards the stairs and Peggy's as she haltingly followed.
The dumbwaiter, she realized, and her stomach twisted unpleasantly. The dumbwaiter and Freud.
Peggy was sneaking a man in!
Of course! Angie cursed. The waves of hurt and anger that crashed over her were quick and intense.
She was reminded of her girlfriend in Queens whom she'd dated for nearly six months before the girl's parents had come dangerously close to finding out about them. Angie had quickly found herself kicked to the curb after that, and her ex immediately married and moved to Armonk.
At least Peggy's gay panic had set it quickly, Angie mused. And at least there wasn't any way for her to get kicked out. Unless Peggy told Miss Fry, but she wouldn't…would she?
"Good night, Miss Fry!" Peggy said in the hallway, snapping Angie out of the whirlwind of her panicked thoughts. The Englishwoman sounded entirely too pleased with herself.
"It's nearly 6:00 AM, Miss Carter."
The relief Angie felt as she listened to the awkward laughter in the hall had her chuckling at herself. Of course, Peggy wouldn't bring a man to the Griffith—not after a kiss like that!
A moment passed as Angie composed herself. Her hand had just touched her doorknob to go out and greet Peggy when—
"Howard!" was hissed through the hallway. Again, it was Peggy's voice.
Peggy was calling for a man.
She had snuck a man into the Griffith!
Angie recoiled from the doorknob and clutched her hands near her chest. She worked against the constriction in her throat as tears welled in her eyes, and the sting of betrayal settled in her gut.
Then a knock—three solid pounds, more like—sounded across the hall. "Yes?" Lorraine greeted around a giggle. "You just woke me."
"Not to worry!" said a man's voice. "This is my cousin Peggy! Peggy, Lorraine."
Angie leaned towards her apartment door, trying to figure out what on Earth was happening.
"Don't you think your cousin looks just like Howard Stark?"
"My cousin is a lot shorter."
Angie fancied she could imagine the utterly unamused and sour look on Peggy's face.
"And much better-looking," the man—Howard, Angie knew—defended. "Come on, Peg. We got family business to discuss."
It was the slam of Peggy's apartment door that finally gave Angie the courage to open her own, even if it had taken her several minutes.
I should just…act like everything is normal, she told herself. After all, she wasn't supposed to know about this Howard guy. She wasn't supposed to know Peggy had just gotten in.
She approached 3E, just barely registering something about Bloody Marys over the sound of her own thoughts.
"There's no room service, Howard!" she heard Peggy say. She sounded exasperated, and none-too-pleased. "I'm getting dressed and going to work. So say what you have to say, and it better include when you're leaving my apartment!"
The swell of satisfaction Angie felt as Peggy told this Howard off put a small smile on her face.
"I'm bound for Rio in three days."
Good, Angie thought.
"Before I depart, I need to know which of my inventions you've recovered."
Again, Angie felt her heart drop.
"If I know what the SSR has obtained, I can determine how many are still on the Black Market."
With words like Inventions and Black Market floating around in her head, Angie backed away from the door. She wondered after the mysterious SSR—unable to decide if it sounded more official or suspicious—and what role Peggy played in it.
She needed a moment to breathe.
She needed a moment to wrap her head around what was going on.
Howard. Inventions. Black Market.
"A camera-pen?" she heard Peggy ask incredulously.
"A camera-pen?" the guy mocked. "I was expecting a little more enthusiasm. Any idea how long it took me to figure out lens miniaturization?"
Holy cannoli… Angie's mind whirled. That's Howard Stark!
Oh, Peggy…What have you gotten yourself into?