Thank you all for the kind words and reviews. I'm very happy to be back writing again, and pleased that I managed to find a whole number of drafts of my original stories. :)

The buzzer in her flat went off at 7:25PM. Carla emerged quickly from her bedroom, attaching a hooped earring to her left ear. Reaching the front door she picked up the receiver,

"Hello?"

"It's me, Carla!" Maria's voice bubbled through,

"Come up, love." Carla buzzed her in, unlocking her front door and leaving it ajar for her PA as she went into the kitchen to grab two wine glasses and placing them on the counter. As she grabbed a bottle of red and unscrewed the cap, her eyes fell to the two washed mugs on the dish drying mat next to the sink...

Carla emerged from the bathroom, a white towel wrapped firmly around her body, and another squeezing the water out of her wet hair. She paused for a moment, suppressing a laugh as Peter fiddled with her Tassimo coffee machine. He held a disc in his hand, and was bent over in front of the counter, his hands coming up in frustration, as he tried to figure out where to put the disc, before wrongly assuming it went into the mug.

"Want me to make it?" she asked, giggling as he jumped at the sound of her voice, his body turning as his eyes closed and he held his hand to his chest, letting out a breath. But when he opened his eyes again, he felt his chest flutter, and his pants get considerably tighter. His eyes raked over the body of the woman coming to stand beside him in the kitchen. Her skin still glistening with water from her shower, the smell of her shower gel and shampoo overpowering his senses.

She smirked at him, knowing the effect she had on him and enjoying having the upper hand after the evening prior. She stepped close to him, her hand reaching into the mug and plucking the disc out. She held it up between their faces, her eyebrow raising slightly as she pressed the top of the machine: popping it open to reveal the brewing unit. She placed the disc in the slot, closing the top, and repositioning the mug on the cup stand. With an exaggerated flare, she indicated the start/stop button to him before pressing it, winking at him as she turned around.

"Alright then Vanna White, and just how was I supposed to know that? Have you not heard of just having a French press?" He responded jokingly, his eyes still wandering over her towel-clad form.

Carla reached to the corner of the counter, turning and shaking the French press in her hand, her smirk becoming ever wider as Peter sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "Yeah, okay I didn't look very well for that..." he admitted.

She gave him a knowing look before putting the French press back, and taking out another mug, "you sure you're going to be able to handle the next one all on your own, while I go get dressed?" she asked teasingly.

He smirked at her, "I think I can manage."

His eyes travelled down her body again as she walked around him towards the bedroom, "you know," he called out to her, waiting as she turned back to face him before continuing, "this is the second time I've been here that you've been in nowt but a towel." He stepped closer to her, her body now turning fully towards him, "is this how you normally walk about your flat?"

Her eyes danced playfully, before she shook her head slightly, "No, no just on special occasions," she turned and headed to her bedroom, stopping at the door and turning mischievously back towards him, "most of the time, I walk around naked." She said seductively, flashing him a knowing smile, entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Peter chuckled, turning back to the kitchen; there was that Carla Connor sexiness he could barely resist in the past...

"Hiya, Oh you look amazing, Carla!" Maria stated, snapping Carla out of her trance-like state, and she poured a small bit of wine in each glass, and glanced down at her outfit: a mid-thigh, soft black shift dress, with a low cut V neck that was modestly covered by stitched on detailing around the neckline, black stockings and black suede, mid-shin, high heeled boots.

"Ta, love, now give us a peek then?" Carla said, referring to the new outfit Maria had stepped out to purchase for the evening. Maria opened her coat to reveal a black strapless aline dress, with a black sheer bolero shrug, and nude high heel pumps. "Blimey!" Carla nodded appreciatively.

"Oh you don't think it's too much, you know...?" Maria asked, worryingly looking down at her outfit.

"No no not at all. Listen, I have clinched many a deal with my cleavage." Carla said with a laugh, "not that I'm expecting you to do that, of course." At Maria's perplexed look, Carla continued, "Oh Maria, stop it! You look fantastic! Here, get that down your neck." she handed Maria a mouthful of wine. "Just to steady the nerves, a bit."

"I don't know if I'll ever be as confident as you are going into meetings like this." Maria said, sipping on the wine

"Oh, trust me it took me a long time to get to this stage." Carla said, sipping on her own wine

"Nah, Liam always said you always had this confidence about you whenever you went into a meeting. Even when the two of you were close to losing the deal, you'd lay on the charm and hit it out of the park."

Carla smiled at the ground, "Yeah well, it were all part of the front, weren't it? Confident on the outside maybe, but underneath I were bricking it."

"Yeah, Liam said that and all..." Maria gave Carla a reassuring smile, "shall I ring us a taxi then?"

Carla smiled and nodded, finishing her mouthful of wine before pulling a small compact and her lipgloss out of her purse. Applying it quickly to her lips, She put the items back in her purse, and grabbed her coat off the back of the sofa. Maria put her mobile in her purse, "two minutes."

"Alright," Carla grabbed the files off the desk, "got the sample?" Maria nodded, holding up the carrier bag with Underworld's patch on it. "Good. Right, well," Carla nodded gestured towards the door, "I guess it's show time!"

Some two hours later, saw Carla and Maria sat on Frank Foster's sofa, Carla leaning over towards the wingchair where Frank was sitting leaning towards her, while Maria sat watching them go over the figures Carla had drawn up. Carla was sure that Frank was sweet on Maria, but the former hairdresser saw differently. Sure, Frank was definitely flirty with her in the office, but she also knew, having had a phone conversation about her new job at Underworld with Michelle the night before, that he also tried the same thing on with her sister-in-law. She took a sip of the wine Frank had poured them, watching the way he kept glancing up and scanning Carla's profile.

Hitting on two of Carla's PAs in the span of a month? She could understand if he had a type and couldn't help but try the same moves on both women, but her and Michelle couldn't be more different if they tried. Different hair, different body types, different personalities...Carla and Michelle were more alike, and even then, other than hair colour, they too were very different. Maria narrowed her eyes, as Carla laughed at something Frank had said, and he responded with a chuckle of his own, rubbing his hand along the skin of Carla's almost bare shoulder.

Maria had been around the block enough to know when a man was playing games: trying to make the object of his desire jealous by instead hitting on her friends...and she was more than sure that was exactly what Frank Foster was trying to do. Except tonight, his game had changed. Tonight his eyes were only on Carla.

'I wonder why?' she thought suspiciously. She looked at the man before her. He wasn't a bad looking guy; seemed pleasant enough, funny at times, successful, and most importantly, not Peter flamin' Barlow. Maybe Carla just needed a nudge...

She cleared her throat, "uhh sorry Frank, but I was wondering if I could use your washroom?"

"Oh, of course," Frank responded, "down the hall, second door on your right."

Maria smiled as she stood up, placing the glass on the side table, "be back in a tick."

Carla smiled after her, before turning back to the order figures.

"Top up?" Frank asked, holding the bottle of red towards her glass.

"Um no, I shouldn't." She responded carefully; she was craving it for sure, but she was trying to keep her promise to herself to cut down.

Frank sat back in his chair, leaning very close to the factory boss, "because of last night...?"

Carla's head shot up, her eyes meeting his. "What about last night?"

Frank looked gently into her eyes, "At the mixer," he said, "I was worried about you, you know? You must have kicked back a few too many glasses too quickly. You were pretty umm free-spirited."

Carla swallowed, her face losing some of its colour. "How do you mean?" she asked quietly. 'Oh flaming hell Connor, how much of show did you make of yourself...'

Frank smiled and leaned ever closer to her, "well, you were talking to Rory, and then you went to make a phone call. And when you came back, you came up to me in a rather flirtatious mood, and you winded up asking me out to dinner."

Carla looked momentarily horrified, "I did what?" 'No, that's not possible. I wouldn't have, would I?'

Frank chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, "hey it's okay, I totally get that you were a little inebriated and probably don't remember."

Carla dropped her head in hands, Frank smirking at her as she did so, "Oh this is so embarrassing." she muttered. She ran her fingers through her hair, sitting up slowly and pressing her lips together. "Look, Frank-" she began, about to tell him the truth about the 'roofie'

"Look, I just thought, drunken mistake or not, maybe it would be a great time to finalize the contract and maybe get to know each other a bit more as well since we'll be working closely the next few months," he watched her eyes, knowing the wheels in her head were spinning. He knew how much this contract meant to her business; she wouldn't be able to back out of a dinner with him if it meant him signing on the dotted line, "I mean, unless this is just a habit of yours: getting inebriated at work events and flirting up potential clients to keep your business afloat."

Carla stared at him, her eyes starting to harden as her walls came back up, 'Oh, I could swing for him right now,' she thought, 'if it didn't mean losing his business.'

Frank let out a chuckle, placing his hand on her back supportingly, "Oh Carla, I'm sorry, I were only taking the mick! I just, I love how easily I can banter with you; I should have realized it was too soon to make a joke about it, I'm sorry it was in poor taste." he apologized

Carla shook her head, allowing a smile to grace her features, "No sorry, I were just taken off guard." She scratched at an itch that didn't exist beside her nose, "Look, I'm a woman of my word. If I asked you out to dinner, then dinner it is."

Frank smiled, "Tell you what, let's make it a little less formal. How's about we go to that charming pub on Coronation Street. They serve food there, don't they?"

Carla nodded, "Yeah, Betty makes one hell of a hotpot as well." she chuckled

"Sounds great. How's about tomorrow?"

Carla shook her head, remembering her rescheduled dinner with Peter, "I can do Friday?"

"Friday it is!" Frank exclaimed, quite pleased with himself as Maria came back into the room and Carla's mobile pinged.

"Sorry about that, did I miss anything?" Maria asked as Carla reached for her phone.

"Well, I've decided to move forward with the order." Frank said proudly, smiling at Maria before glancing back at Carla who was looking at her phone, a genuine smile spreading across her features, and he felt a pang of jealousy.

Just checking in to make sure you're feeling better.

And that we're still on for dinner at mine tomorrow?

I promise I won't go around in a towel. Wouldn't want to infringe on your style...

Peter

Carla smiled at the text, deciding it best to reply once she was out of Frank's place, instead using the mobile to call for a cab and hearing Maria respond to the news of the order going through

"Oh that's great news! You won't be sorry, Frank!"

Frank kept his eyes on Carla, waiting for her to hang up the call and meet his gaze, smiling when she did, "Oh I know I won't be. Carla and I will be finalizing the contract over dinner on Friday evening."

"Oh, will you now?" Maria smirked, raising an eyebrow at them both.

"Yeah," Carla responded rather awkwardly, "well I'll draw up the contract tomorrow and have it all ready for Friday then." She grabbed her files and stood up, "There's a cab around the corner, Maria. So it should be here in a few minutes. Thanks for your hospitality Frank, and I'm glad we'll be doing business with you!" She held out her hand, and he rose to his feet, taking her hand in his and shaking it.

"Thank you Carla," he leaned in suddenly planting a kiss on her cheek, "I look forward to Friday."

Carla nodded, turning her back to Frank and gesturing to Maria to get up. In the foyer, Frank helped Maria and Carla into their coats, closing the door as their cab sped off down the road, and the smile slipped off his face.

He knew Carla didn't drink too much the night before. He used her fogginess about the night before to lie about her asking him out to dinner. Frank chuckled to himself.

Of course that's not how it happened.

He knew she had something slipped in her drink. After all, he had been the one to do it. Not because he planned on assaulting her when she was unconscious. No, no. He planned on being her saviour. Taking her back to his, looking after her, gaining her confidence...so that when he did eventually ask her out, he would have already laid the groundwork as a man she could, ironically, trust.

But no, Rory had to intervene; and even then, just when he thought he could still step in and be the hero, that man showed up. That Peter bloke: the one who had embarrassed Carla at his wedding blessing two weeks earlier, calling her out for trying to bed him while his bride was playing away with her ex. Frank smirked, remembering the conversation with Julie and Sean a the Rovers when Carla failed to show up for their meeting; her 'loyal' workers more keen to gossip about her than anything, and did they ever give him an insight into the factory boss's life the past few years.

He wondered if it was him that texted Carla. If it was him that put that beautiful smile on her gorgeous face.

No matter, he thought, I will win her in the end. I always get what I want...