Carla's heels clicked against the pavement as she clutched a coffee and bacon butty in one hand, and a box of cakes in the other. It had been just under two hours since she opened the factory for her workers, and Frank had still not arrived to work, nor was he scheduled in the diary to be at any meetings that day; this going AWOL routine of his would have really begun to grate on her nerves had she not been in such a good mood. After exhausting her attempts at contacting him, she decided to head to the café and treat the staff to a few cakes for their upcoming tea break, knowing full well that it would throw the gossipy machinists into an inquisitive frenzy as to the possible reason behind their boss's bubbly disposition that morning. She smiled to herself as she took a sip of her steaming coffee; it was a secret pleasure of hers to watch them squirm as they tried time and time again to figure her out.

Her bag began to vibrate, her ringtone loudly piercing the rather quiet sidewalk of the cobbles. She quickly shoved the butty into her mouth, holding it awkwardly in place, and shifted her coffee to balance on the box of cakes as she dug into her purse for the phone, mumbling and grumbling incoherently through the biscuit between her teeth at how she could never find anything in the large tote.

"Need a hand?" a gentle voice called to her. She rose her head from the bag and smiled as best as she could behind the sandwich that rested between her lips.

Peter stepped forward and grabbed her coffee and the box of cakes, freeing up both of her hands so she could continue to dig around in her purse.

"Aha!" came her muffled cheer, as she victoriously pulled her mobile out of the leather satchel, only to be followed by a stifled "damn it!" upon realizing that she missed the call.

Peter chuckled out loud and gently pulled the butty from her lips, watching in adoration as she chewed the piece she had bitten off and swallowed it; a faint blush creeping across her cheeks; "thanks," she said, tucking her phone back into a more accessible side pocket, and taking back the coffee and box of cakes.

"Not important I hope?" The bookie inquired, gesturing to her bag with the cigarette he had clutched between his fingers.

"Just my missing-in-action business partner," Carla responded, leaning the side of her body against the brick wall outside Peter's betting shop, "I tell you what; he best be leavin' a message with a damn good explanation for leavin' me on my own with that lot, and with a big meeting with a potential client in the works in the next couple of days."

"Oh yeah? Frank's gone AWOL again has he?" Peter stated before taking a bite of her butty.

"Eh!" she exclaimed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder and causing him to snicker as he chewed, "that's my breakfast you know?"

"Ever hear of home cooking?" He teased as he held the sandwich up to her lips

"Not that it's any of your business Barlow, but my fryin' pan's on the fritz," she responded, glancing down to where her breakfast was being held just below her nose; with a crooked smile she shook her head at him before taking a bite of the sandwich he held out for her.

"I reckon that's code for 'I burnt it!'" Peter joked with a laugh, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow at her.

Carla swallowed and looked to the ground, "It were a rubbish pan any road…" she grumbled

"It's cooking surface were made of Teflon!" He exclaimed and they both chuckled. He took a drag of his cigarette, gazing at her as she turned her head towards the factory. He took in every curve of her face, every feature; particularly the sparkle in her eyes. He exhaled the puff of smoke and wagged his finger at her, "There's sommit different about you…"

She turned her head back to him, her brow furrowing, "how'd you mean?" she asked, a twinge of defensiveness surrounding her words.

He gestured to his own face in order to explain better, "I dunno, you just look, glowing."

Carla gave a lopsided smile and snickered, "oh that'll be the exfoliating scrub darlin'," she stated with a wink.

Peter chuckled, "and here I thought it had sommit to do with Liam…"

"With Liam?" she asked quietly, a blush rising to her cheeks as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes gently boring into Peter's.

"Yeah," Peter responded, a smile to his face, "I thought maybe you two might 'ave, you know…" he trailed off as he motioned with his hand, the smoke from his cigarette curling and billowing up around his head, "…reconnected."

"Oh we reconnected all right," Carla laughed, deliberately trying to offset what he was implying, "or he reconnected I should say with my liquor cabinet and passed out snoring loudly and mumbling something or other about Manchester City in the cup finals…"

Peter laughed at her attempted deflection, knowing her well enough to know when she was lying. His feelings for Carla were platonic enough, at first. He stopped her from polishing off a bottle of vodka less than a year ago. He came upon her stumbling out of the factory around suppertime. She had practically knocked him over as she brushed by him on her way to Streetcars and he could smell the alcohol off her; the glazed eyes and slurred speech had only just reaffirmed his suspicions. He popped into the bookie's and explained to his wife that he was following her inebriated best friend back to her flat to ensure she didn't do anything she might regret in the bright light of day. Leanne gave her husband her blessing, her concern for her friend's welfare over the previous few months following Lindsay's siege at Underworld initially had her wanting to tag along; but she knew that dependence and possible addiction to alcohol was Peter's forte, and the last thing she wanted to do was put Carla in a situation that made her more uncomfortable than she already would be.

Upon arriving at her flat, he buzzed incessantly until she let him up. Her eyes were wild and fiery as she threw open the door to find him there, trying 'to poke his nose into her business,' as she so eloquently accused of him. Her attempts at trying to get rid of him fell upon deaf ears and she ultimately relented the half-bottle of voddy she had been clutching to her chest as she sat curled up on the sofa, before eventually breaking down in his arms. He had never seen her so openly emotional before, but with a bit of encouragement, she opened up to him that night in her drunken haze about Paul, Liam, and Tony. It was nearing the 2 year anniversary of Tony's death and despite all her best efforts to hold herself together, she had slowly started to fall apart. She had told him how she felt that her husband's and fiancée's deaths were the universe's way of punishing her for being in love Liam whilst in relationships with Paul and then Tony. It broke Peter's heart to hear this and he wanted to tell her that this fear of hers was not truth, but he stopped himself from voicing it out loud. He knew what she needed was to get her thoughts off her chest before she sobered up enough to build up her walls again, and so he simply sat with her and listened as she bared her soul to him; giving him an in-depth look at the broken and fragile creature behind the tough-as-nails businesswoman façade she wore daily to the world.

After a bit of prodding from him, she also opened up about what had occurred in the factory a few months earlier with Tony's ex-wife; the sick and twisted mind games that she imposed upon her victim that included a terrifying round of Russian Roulette, a game that Lindsay would ultimately lose, but not before inflicting the worst kind of mental anguish on Carla.

As she had tortured her victim prior to the game, Lindsay mocked how Carla had Tony's blood on her hands; that his death was her doing because she did not let him go when she had the chance. And that now she would have those stains there for the rest of her life, 'short as it may be…' she had said with a feral grin before whipping the handle of her gun into the factory boss's temple.

As she told him about Lindsay's mocking, Peter had caught a glimpse of her palms; red and raw from where she had no doubt scrubbed them just minutes before his arrival at the flat. The woman before him had been so beaten down emotionally that he worried what might have happened to her had he not bumped into her in the street that day. He managed to talk her through her sorrow, caressing her hair as she leaned into his embrace. She eventually passed out in his arms there on the sofa and he stayed with her that night, feeling an overwhelming connection with her that he hadn't had with anyone else; not even Leanne.

Upon awaking the following morning and forcing her to down a cup of coffee, he made her a promise to be a shoulder to lean on should she ever feel the need to talk to someone. With the alcohol out of her system, so to was her vulnerability, and her defenses were up quicker than he could blink. However, even though it took a while for her to accept it, he had gotten through to her that night, and she eventually softened to him; calling him on the odd day when she found herself grieving for Paul and Tony and feeling the need to down a bottle of alcohol. He was only too happy to be there for her, and they developed a strong friendship in the following months. He eventually came to rely on her as much as she did him following the tram crash on his stag night, and upon discovering Leanne's betrayal with Nick before their blessing in February. In a bout of irony, Carla had stopped him from downing a bottle of tequila, and had pleaded her friend's case to him. While he agreed with her that it was in theirs and Simon's best interests to give their marriage another try, he kept finding himself more and more attracted to the factory boss as the days went on. His attraction to her scared him, and yet he couldn't bear to distance himself from her. He had originally assumed that she would hook up with Frank; and while he wasn't particularly fond of the bloke, it would certainly have alleviated some of his wife's jealousy and growing concern over her husband's feelings for her single and rather gorgeous best friend. But now that Liam was back, Peter wasn't sure how he was to suppress his budding feelings for the factory boss further. He could see just from the night before how completely in love with each other they were. And judging by Carla's new rosy glow and sparkling green eyes, it was clear they succumbed to their love and lust last night; and as strong as his attraction to her may be, it made him feel so happy to see her so content.

"So Leanne's birthday is coming up," Her voice jolted him from his thoughts, "the big 3-0. Planning something big?"

"Working on it," he replied with a smile, touching his finger to the side of his nose before taking another bite of her butty.

"Oi!" she exclaimed, again hitting him playfully before prying the sandwich out his hand, "I'm just gonna 'ave to start buying two of these aren't I?" They both snickered before she pushed herself away from the wall, "well I best get back to the grindstone; see if my business partner has decided to turn up."

"Will we see you in the pub tonight?" he asked softly, stubbing out his cigarette in the canister.

"Yeah, may do. I think Liam wanted to go out for a bite so we might hit up the Bistro first." She responded

"Oh," Peter began shifting awkwardly, "well then we'll save you both a seat then, just in case." With a smile he leaned in and placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth before walking into the betting shop, turning and watching through the glass as she sauntered down the cobbles towards her factory.

Carla could see his hunched body over the desk as she walked past the office. It was obvious he was tense, but she knew her business partner well, and had an idea of what would pull him out of his mood and hopefully put a smile on his face as well. She placed the box of cakes on the counter, removing her bag from her shoulder and dished out some custard creams onto a small dish.

"Alright you lot," she stated loudly, turning to face the machinists, "since you all have been working extra hard on this order and are actually ahead of schedule, I'm going to give you an additional 15 minutes for your tea break."

"Blimey, you're in a good mood today Ms. C!" Sean exclaimed as he swiveled on his chair at his desk.

"That I am Seany," she said in a sing song voice, plastering on a large smile for emphasis, "so make the most of it yeah?" She clapped her hands together twice signaling the beginning of their break time. Swinging her tote over her shoulder and picking up the custard creams and her coffee, she headed into the office.

"Mornin' Frankie!" she stated chirpily.

"Morning," came the grumbled reply from her business partner who was now standing next to the filing cabinet and leafing through papers.

"Oh we are in a mood today," she stated, as she placed her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk, "did somebody steal your ball on the playground this morning?" she teased as she folded her arms across her chest and smirked in his direction.

"Funny," He replied before slamming the filing cabinet door closed and sitting back down at his desk, "absolutely hilarious. You should try your luck at stand up," he muttered bitterly.

She could practically feel his rage projecting onto her, and she furrowed her brow confusedly at him, "Why do I get the distinct feeling that your mood has sommit to do with me? That you're angry at me?" she asked as she pressed her palms onto her desk and leaned in towards him, "only I'm sorry, I think if anyone deserves to be angry at anyone this morning it's me."

"Oh it has a nimble mind too!" Frank mocked sarcastically, "If anyone deserves to be angry…" he mumbled contemptuously before snidely asking, "And just how did you work that one out, 'Ms. Businesswoman of the Year?'"

Carla remained silent for a moment, her upper lip curling into a sneer at his deliberate jibe at the state of her business when he bought into it a few months prior. She drummed her fingers angrily on the desk surface before pushing herself up to a standing position. His eyes glanced up to see her grab a file and her diary from her desk along with her coffee.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked her curtly.

"Out," was her snappy reply.

He pushed himself up from his chair as she began to round the desk, "hey!" he ordered her angrily as she opened the door, "we have a business to run here and a huge client coming in two days!"

The machinists immediately quieted down in the kitchenette and craned their necks towards the office to see what the commotion was about. There was a look of pure murder on their boss's face and she whipped around to face her business partner, keeping the door propped open as she jabbed her finger angrily at him.

"If you think that I'm going to sit in this glass box with you after that little outburst you can think again," she stated through gritted teeth before raising her voice to a brutal shout, "don't you ever think you can speak to me like that again Frank Foster or I will really give you something to sulk about." Her eyes were blazing with a fury he had never seen before, and her defiance of his direct order to her both aroused and angered him at the same time. "Now I am going to find a place to do some work, and I will be back when I feel like coming back, alright?" With a final glare in his direction, she turned on her heel, clutching the strap of her shoulder bag tightly, her file and agenda tucked firmly under her elbow, and stormed out of the factory.

"That showed him!" Izzy joked taking a sip of her tea and the machinists snickered to each other before resuming their gossiping.

Frank stood angrily rooted to the spot, staring at where Carla had been not a few minutes earlier. 'How dare she defy me,' he thought angrily as he plopped down into his chair and massaged his forehead, 'she has no idea of what I'm capable of-,' his angry thoughts were interrupted as he glanced to his desk, seeing the small biscuits on a plate that she had obviously brought in especially for him. He closed his eyes in frustration with himself for allowing his jealousy over Liam staying at her flat the night before to get to him. Exhaling deeply, he pushed himself up from his chair, and rushed out of the office.

"I'd start with flowers if I were you!" Sean yelled at Frank's retreating back, but the man simply ignored him. He broke into a jog as he stepped out onto the cobbles, his head darting back and forth as he looked for his business partner.

"Carla?" he shouted glancing towards the Bistro, before turning and spotting her sitting on the bench outside the salon. With one leg crossed over the other and her fingers meticulously scanning through her diary, Frank couldn't help but feel his arousal coming on again. 'God, she is gorgeous,' he thought biting his lip as he approached her. She turned and spotted him and sighed in sheer annoyance as she went to grab her things. "No, Carla please," he pleaded gently as he stood next to the bench, "look I'm really sorry," he began in a voice just above a whisper, "I had a fight with my father this morning and I lashed out at you," he lied, scanning her face for some sort of reaction as she stared off in the distance, pointedly avoiding his eyes, "I really am sorry, you didn't deserve that-"

"Too right I didn't," she interrupted him angrily, finally locking her eyes on his. "You go missing in action for the second day in a row, I try to make light of it and you bite my 'ead off!"

He gingerly sat down next to her before offering her a crooked smile, "you bought me some custard creams?"

She nodded softly, "yeah I know how much you like 'em."

"I like you more," he whispered, his eyes lovingly searching her eyes.

She smirked and chuckled derisively, "oh no. You are not getting off the hook that easily my darlin', not by a long chalk."

"Fine," he stated perking up a little, his hands lightly slapping his thighs, "how's about I buy you dinner to apologize. Tonight, after work in the Bistro?"

"Oh," she scrunched her face up apologetically, "I'm supposed to be meeting Liam for dinner,"

"Perfect," Frank piped up happily, "I'll treat you both! I wanted to talk to him about his business anyways."

"What? Lad Rags?" Carla asked curiously

"Yeah," Frank replied with a smirk standing up and outstretching his hand to help her up, "unless of course I'd be imposing."

"No, no it were just going to be a friendly bite to eat followed by a stop at the pub later." Carla said dismissively as she rose to her feet, before looking around momentarily and sitting back down on the bench, "you know what? I'm just going to enjoy the fresh air for a little while longer if it's all the same with you."

"After the way I acted, I don't blame you really," Frank responded before swooping and picking up her files and diary, "but no work. Just have a nice break and come back when you're ready," he said smiling and placed a kiss on top of her head, taking her by surprise at his display of affection, before walking back towards the factory.

She watched him stride down the sidewalk, before closing her eyes and leaning her head back, exhaling a deep sigh as she did so. She was secretly thankful for Frank to be a buffer that night at dinner. While she was happy to finally be with Liam with no complications, she was also absolutely terrified. It didn't help that the mere idea of her and her brother-in-law on an apparent romantic date would send some restaurant punters into a gossiping frenzy; and that worried her to no end. She didn't need an angry or bitter Maria picking a fight with her when she arrived back on the street the following week.

She smiled and took a sip of her coffee; she knew Liam would be disappointed but she could make it up to him later…