Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, I was lacking motivation a bit last week. Thanks again for all the lovely reviews!
"Peter!"
He was enjoying an afternoon cigarette outside the factory when he heard the woman's voice call out to him, he looked up to see Michelle crossing the road towards the factory. It was the first time she'd acknowledged his existence in weeks, so he naturally assumed she was looking for Carla.
"Everything alright?" He asked her, throwing his cig to the ground before stamping it out with his foot.
"Yeah, is Carla in?"
"She's not sorry, she's meeting a client in town. Can I pass on a message?" He asked, using his friendliest tone of voice.
"Nah, it's fine, I'll text her." She shot him a cold stare as she walked away and Peter sighed, he didn't see himself winning Michelle over anytime soon.
Heading back inside the factory, he tried not to let Michelle's frostiness get to him. Honestly, Peter wasn't all that bothered whether Michelle liked him or not, but he knew her dislike for him was a sticking point for Carla.
It had been a few days since their reunion in the office and their 'date date' was planned for Friday night. Unfortunately, Friday was still three days away, and despite his elation at Carla's willingness to give him a second chance, he was becoming increasingly frustrated by how difficult it was to get her alone. Annoyingly neither of them had their own place; number one was like Piccadilly Circus most of the time, and Roy didn't have what you'd call an active social life, he was on his sofa with a cup of coco most nights. As luck would have it though, Carla had mentioned that tonight he'd be out with his bat-watching pals. Seeing it as the perfect opportunity to get Carla alone, Peter had decided he was going to suggest he came round that evening and cooked them a nice dinner.
The next couple of hours dragged as Peter impatiently awaited Carla's return. He hovered around the factory floor at a loose end, before heading into the office and beginning a game of Solitaire on his computer. It was shaping up to be another smooth week in the factory, so far Peter had tried to be more hands on with clients and had sat in on a couple of meetings. However, today's meeting Carla had insisted on taking alone. The guy was an old business associate of Carla's, and she reckoned given their prior relationship, she'd be able to win him round easily over a couple of drinks. Peter thought she was probably over-exaggerating how well she knew him in order to avoid making Peter feel bad about the fact that wooing clients with alcohol wasn't something he could do. But he wasn't disheartened, Carla was always going to have certain advantages over him when it came to wooing clients – being in possession of a pair of breasts being one of them. Peter didn't think that him being unable to share a whiskey with a potential client was any less of a disadvantage than being unable to flirt his way to a contract.
Carla finally arrived back at around 4:30pm, entering the office with a smile on her face.
"Meeting went well then?"
"Yep." She stumbled slightly on the way to her chair.
"Took a few drinks to seal the deal did it?" He asked with a smirk.
"Oi." She rolled her eyes, "I'm not drunk, I've had two glasses of wine."
Peter didn't believe her but decided to stop teasing.
"So, did you get the contract?"
"I sure did."
"Congratulations."
"Bit annoying though, he wants to sign first thing tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Blimey, he doesn't hang about."
"Yep. So, it looks like it's going to be a late one for me." She sighed as she began to log on to her computer.
"Carla it's almost 5pm, why didn't you tell him you needed more time?" He asked her, his dreams of a romantic evening in Roy's quickly fading away.
"Because it doesn't work like that Peter, he's a client and you do what the client says."
He scoffed, "Like you've never said no to a client before."
"What's the big deal? I used to work late in here all the time, you know that." She looked at him suspicion in her eyes.
"I just think you deserve to finish at a regular time tonight."
"Why?"
"Because I think you deserve a rest," he folded his arms and scoffed unconvincingly, "why do you always assume I have an ulterior motive?"
"I didn't assume you had an ulterior motive, but now I think you do."
"You implied it."
"Peter, I don't have time for this, I have a contract to draw up." She turned towards her computer and pointedly avoided eye contact with him.
"Alright, fine. You mentioned this morning that Roy was going to be away this evening and-"
"Ah!" She interrupted. "There we have it."
He held his hands up, "I wasn't suggesting anything untoward, I just wanted to cook us some dinner."
She visibly softened. "Peter, that's really nice of you, but what if he came back early?"
"Carla." He sighed, exasperated. "I just want to spend some time with you."
"I know, so do I, but I'm not ready to tell people yet."
He folded his arms.
"Don't sulk Peter."
She walked over to the blinds, peering out onto the factory floor before closing them.
"And you don't think that looks suspicious?" He said sarcastically, gesturing towards the now obscured windows.
She walked over to where he sat and leant on the desk beside his chair, he spun the chair slightly so she could step between his legs.
"I know it's frustrating." She began. Unable to resist, he placed his hands on her outer thighs, stroking them gently. "It would be different if one of us lived on our own. I just need to do this in private for a while. I need to know that it's going to work before I face the wrath of my friends and family."
He laughed slightly, "You make it sound like they'd disown you."
She looked down at him, her hands automatically reaching for his hair, she ran her fingers through it as she spoke. "To be honest, I'm not too worried about Johnny and Roy. Johnny doesn't exactly have the right to start preaching to me now, and Roy is the least confrontational person I know. I don't think it would take much to win him round. It's mainly Michelle." She sighed.
"Oh, speaking of Michelle, she was looking for you earlier."
"Yeah, she texted me, she wanted to go for a drink tonight. Did she come in the factory?"
"No, she caught me outside."
"How did she seem?"
"Oh, her usual delightful self." He said dryly. Carla bit her lip. "She'll come round, love."
"I'm not sure she will to be honest."
"You're her best friend, it's her job to support you no matter what."
"Everyone has their limits Peter."
He wondered if it was because he wasn't a woman, or maybe he just didn't have a friendship as close as Carla and Michelle's, but he was really struggling to understand why Carla was so concerned about Michelle's reaction.
"Can I ask you a question?" He asked her.
"Of course."
"Why do you care so much what she thinks?"
She was quiet for a moment, he briefly worried she was going to get angry, but she just looked thoughtful.
"You know when we were married, and you relapsed?" She began.
He nodded, not sure where she was going with this.
"And I put in all my time and effort and everything I had to get you sober and I spent a fortune on rehab only for you to fall of the wagon again?"
He nodded again, this time more stiffly, these casual reminders of their past still uncomfortable for him to listen to.
"There were so many times I felt like giving up on you. But I didn't. Because you're an alcoholic, and being an alcoholic is an illness." Her fingers still stroked his hair as she continued. "Now imagine you're Michelle, and you put in a similar amount of effort to help me get back on my feet after my husband cheated on me, only for me to throw it all back in your face by taking him back. And there's no illness you can blame, just me and my decisions."
There was a long pause.
"Well when you put it like that…" Peter wasn't sure what to say.
"Maybe that's a dramatic comparison, but I was in a bad way when our marriage ended. I was drinking, and neglecting the factory, and being rude to clients when I was in the factory. She handled all of it. And then she came to the flat after work and gave me a shoulder to cry on. I don't think I would've got through it without her. She didn't complain, because she's a good friend, but it can't have been easy for her. There's no way she won't see me giving you another chance as a slap in the face. And it makes me feel guilty."
"But she's going to have to find out eventually."
"If and when I'm confident that this is going to work, I'll tell her."
He reached up and rubbed her arm. "I don't want to put pressure on you, I just wanted to understand. Thank you for telling me."
She smiled at him fondly before leaning down and giving him a quick kiss.
"I better re-open the blinds or they will start getting suspicious."
A few hours later Peter was heading back towards the factory when he once again heard Michelle's voice call out to him. He rolled his eyes in frustration before turning around to face her.
"Are you working late too?" She asked him, eyeing the items he was carrying suspiciously.
He was carrying two bulging plastic bags, as well as a blanket rolled up under his left arm. He'd decided if he couldn't cook Carla dinner tonight, he'd bring it to her at the factory.
"Uh, yeah. Just brought some supplies to keep us going." He hoped this would be enough to get Michelle off his case.
"And a blanket in case it gets cold in there?"
"Oh, this?" He looked down at the blanket in faux surprise, "I'm, um, lending it to Roy."
Michelle raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
"You off out somewhere?" He asked, desperate to change the subject. He nodded towards the bottle of wine she was carrying.
"Well actually, I was bringing this to Carla, since she couldn't get out for a drink tonight, I thought I'd bring a drink to her."
Great, Peter thought.
"Oh right, that's thoughtful of you." He responded, unsure how to proceed. "Do you want to come in then?"
There was no way he could shake off Michelle without making her suspicious, but he knew Carla wasn't going to be impressed when he turned up in the office with her in tow.
Carla's eyes widened as the unlikely pair entered the office together, she first looked at the bags Peter was carrying, then at the blanket, then at Michelle.
"What's going on?" She asked, she sounded worried.
"We bumped into each other outside." Peter started.
"Yeah sorry," Michelle said, "I didn't realise Peter was working late too."
Carla looked at Peter in confusion, he nodded at her hoping she wouldn't blow his cover. She opened her mouth slightly but said nothing.
"I brought you some wine," Michelle continued, oblivious to Carla's confusion, "I thought we could have a drink and a catchup while you work."
"Oh Michelle, that's really nice of you," Carla looked at Peter, and then at the blanket that he still had under his arm, "it's just we've got quite a lot to do…"
"Well you're going to have a break while you eat, aren't you?"
Carla had no choice but to concede her point and so Peter began emptying the contents of the bags on to the desk. He had brought what could only be described as a spread – different cheeses, chutney, crackers, crusty bread, different kinds of tapas, chocolates…
"Blimey Peter! How late did you think you'd both be working?" Michelle asked with a laugh.
Carla's eyes were widening with every item he revealed, he'd also packed several candles but decided it was best to not let them be seen. Michelle had taken a seat in Peters chair and was unscrewing the bottle of wine.
He was at a loss at what to do, Carla didn't really need him there, and Michelle seemed to be happily settling herself in for the long haul as she poured the wine and handed Carla a glass.
"Look, why don't I leave you ladies to it? You can manage alright without me, can't you?" He asked Carla.
"Uh, yeah." She looked at him apologetically.
He knew it wasn't Carla's fault, she didn't know that he was planning on surprising her with a picnic, but he still felt disappointed. He'd been looking forward to finally getting her alone, even if it was in the factory. He placed his hand on the rolled-up blanket that now sat on the desk.
"Here's that blanket you wanted for Roy." He nodded at Carla, who now looked as though she was trying her best not to laugh at his ridiculous lie. He turned around and headed out the door.