Charlotte’s stomach lurches with the elevator as it comes to a halt at the thirty-fifth floor. The hallway is quiet, morning light filtering feebly through the blinds that line the hallway, the noise of the city street below muffled by the glass as well as the height. She can’t help the trepidation she feels as her heels clack smartly against the tile, every step taking her closer and closer to him.
L.A. had been like a dream. The air had been warm and the sky had been sunny and it was just so unlike New York. The pace was still quick but not breakneck, people were still superficial but less severe somehow. Maybe it was all the sun.
What she had expected to be a week of lengthy meetings inside cool conference rooms with straight-laced business men had turned out to be casual lunches at hip restaurants or eighteen holes with some of Justin’s oldest friends who just happened to be in the business. She never knew a time when her job had been more fun, handing him the necessary paper work between bites of the best sushi she’d ever eaten and providing him with numbers on the sixth hole at the Sherwood Country Club which boasted some of the most spectacular views from a golf course she had ever seen. They’d even managed a beach day out of a meeting with the head designer of his clothing company to discuss a possible swimwear line. And in between all of that, were the smiles and the touches, seemingly innocent to everyone but them. His hand would brush her thigh under the table and her skin would set itself on fire, one look over her shoulder would ignite him like an out of control blaze and the second they were alone they were clawing at each others’ clothes, teeth nipping at exposed skin. Afterwards they were dazed and sheepish, straightening their clothes in slightly awkward silence until one of them would crack a joke and they’d laugh it off.
There was always the silent promise of never again, certain unspoken boundaries set but deeper still was the knowledge that there was no stopping this thing. The guilt had been replaced by something stronger, something wild, a lust that neither of them could deny and while they never sought each other out, never made a consorted effort to come together that didn’t stop it from happening at random points when hormones got the best of their good judgment. And while they’d never shared a bed, never once even entered each others’ bedrooms, nothing stopped them from falling to the floor the second they entered Charlotte’s suite or him from bending her over the dining room table in Justin’s expansive penthouse. The lust was overpowering and potent, suffocating and maddening and while Charlotte feels that this is a poor excuse for her actions it didn’t seem to keep her from relenting when he reached for her.
But that was in L.A. The giddy post-sex high that had clouded her mind the entire week had begun to clear as she settled back into her apartment, unpacked her suitcase, and pulled out what she was going to wear for work the next day. It would be another day at the office, a day of doing Amelia’s bidding. Amelia.
It was then that the ramifications of her actions began to settle in. It wasn’t just one time anymore. It wasn’t just two times, not even three. She knew the number, but she wouldn’t allow herself to even think it. However, she couldn’t stop her mind from replaying each time over and over again, every touch branded into her memory. As the night wore on and her first morning back in the office loomed closer, the tug of pleasure in her stomach at these memories turned to butterflies and then to dread. How was she going to face Amelia? Guilt had never weighed easily on Charlotte. Ever since she was a little kid she’s been unable to handle the stress of knowing she was deliberately doing something wrong and this situation was much worse because not only was she doing something morally reprehensible, but the odds that someone was going to get hurt, and badly, were about as good as Amelia berating her outfit the next morning.
It had to stop. She knew it couldn’t go on, knew it from the first time, the second, the third and every time after that. Thinking about it now she wishes they would have stopped at the first, wishes she would have listened to herself when her better judgment warned that she needed time away from him. But she didn’t, and now here she is and they’re about to have this conversation again, the “we can’t do this anymore” speech. She wonders how he’ll take it. She wonders if he’ll agree. He should, he knew it from the first time too, and the second, and the third. She could tell by every guilty smile, every heaved sigh, every awkward silence.
She tucks the files under her arm and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she steps up to the door of his outer offices and takes a calming breath, her heart beating a little quicker than usual and she forces herself to remain calm as she pushes open the door.
“You’re a dirty bastard, you know that! A real asshole!”
Charlotte’s jaw drops at the scene in front of her, Felicity standing tall in Justin’s doorway, head held high and she doesn’t even have time to think before Felicity slams the door with all her might, the artwork rattling on the walls. Charlotte sputters, her mind stalling and flailing in her head, unsure whether or not to turn and leave or ask what the hell is going on. But before she has a chance to really decide, Felicity’s eyes fall on her and she blinks slowly before a radiant smile pulls at her lips.
“Oh, hey Charlotte! How was L.A.?”
Charlotte watches her slightly flabbergasted as she drops a packet of papers on her desk and takes her seat as if her outburst had never happened. Charlotte’s eyelids flutter as she tries to blink herself into understanding, watching Felicity nudge her mouse, her computer screen coming to life, acting as if she hadn’t just cursed out her boss thirty seconds before.
“That was good, Fee,” Justin says as the door to his office opens and Charlotte’s heart sets off at a canter, watching him perusing the packet in his hands. “But I think you need a little more build before you call me a bastard.” He looks up then, blue eyes crashing with hers and he blinks slowly before a wide grin pulls at his mouth. “Mornin’ Charlie!”
“Uh…” she stutters, still horribly confused as Justin leans over Felicity, resting his large hand on her shoulder as he shows her the packet.
“Right there,” he says, pointing on the page. “You should start to yell there.”
“Okay,” Felicity says, grabbing a pen and marking on the sheet. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Justin says with a grin, patting her shoulder and his eyes fall on Charlotte again. “Don’t get any ideas, we’re just running lines,” Justin says, turning to saunter back into his office and it takes her a minute to realize his double entendre.
“Oh, I’ve called you much worse than bastard,” Charlotte says with a smirk, and she shivers as he throws back his head in a laugh.
“Get the fuck in here,” he says, turning towards her as he reaches his desk, leaning against the front of it and she swallows hard, stepping into his office. “Get the door,” he adds simply as she steps inside and she gives him a warning look. He returns it innocently, simply nodding his head towards the door, turning and shuffling some things across his desk.
She turns somewhat reluctantly and peeks out at Felicity who’s pouring over her script, completely oblivious to anything else around her. Charlotte supposes she should consider herself lucky that Fee doesn’t realize how strange it is for Justin to invite her in and then ask her to close the door. She shakes her head before pressing the door shut with a soft snap. Justin isn’t stupid enough to try anything with Felicity right outside, and this would give her the opportunity to talk to him, to tell him once and for all that this thing between them had to be over. They needed to be friends. Just friends.
She sighs, turning back towards him and jumps, finding him a breath away, a look of pleasant amusement on his face. “What brings you here this fine morning, Charlie Beth?” he questions, his hands slipped easily in his pockets, eyes roving over her slowly and if she hadn’t seen it a thousand times right before he grabbed her and kissed the shit out of her, she wouldn’t even know that is exactly what he’s thinking about.
“Um…I have some stuff for you to look at,” she says slowly, her voice almost a whisper and he can’t help but grin at her caution.
He’d wondered how she’d react to being in New York again, figured she’d be a little jumpy because she was always jumpy where Amelia was concerned. He winces internally, pushing down the quick pang of guilt that lacerates him. He’d come home Sunday night, jetlagged and down trodden, the idea of business as usual on Monday morning nearly crushing him. L.A. had been the kind of business he’d given up recording for, the free exchange of ideas about Grateman’s tour, set lists and stage layouts, talks of distribution and touring with Kalayah, ideas for his summer line. All the things that he enjoyed, not call sheets and account management, not begging for more funding and kissing ass to get ahead.
“What stuff,” he asks with a sigh, holding his hand out and Charlotte provides him with the file in her hand.
“Budget stuff.”
“Of course,” Justin mutters, flipping through the pages, disinterestedly. His eyes flick to her, taking in the way her dress hangs on her small shoulders, the belt cinched around her waist accentuating the swell of her hips. He licks his lips. “You look good.”
“Huh?” her eyes widen, shifting slightly as his eyes crawl over her, traveling from her hips down her legs.
“Your dress,” he says, his eyes lingering on her breasts for a moment before tossing the file onto the sideboard. “I like it.” He smiles at her blush, enjoying the color on her cheeks and he can feel that pull in his stomach.
“Thank…thank you,” she stutters softly, looking at the ground as she tucks her hair behind her ear, her heart swelling under his praise.
“Green’s a nice color on you,” he presses, taking a cautious step forward and she looks up, her eyes slightly wide. “Brings out your eyes.” His fingers brush her cheek and he grins widely at how her eyelids flutter.
“Justin,” she says, laughter in her voice as her cheeks flame and she tucks her chin away, avoiding his touch in a bashful way and he laughs. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“What?” he asks, slipping his hands in his pockets and regarding her amusedly, enjoying the tension.
“This.”
“What?” Justin asks again, looking around in mock confusion. “Me complimenting you?”
“No, you know what I me-”
“You could compliment me,” he suggests, as if he hadn’t heard her, trying to force his grin down and she sighs. “You could say ‘Justin that suit looks very nice on you.’”
Charlotte sighs, unable to control her smile at how adorable he is. And he knows it, grinning widely at her. She rolls her eyes. “Justin that suit looks very nice on you,” she intones, capping it with a giggle and another roll of her eyes.
“’The tie is both classy and fun,’” Justin prompts, looking down at himself as he smoothes his tie down his chest and now Charlotte can’t help but laugh.
“The tie is both classy and fun,” she parrots, watching him amusedly.
“’The shirt looks comfortable and classic, a nice color, offsetting your skin tone beautifully,’” he teases and Charlotte lets out a scoff of a laugh.
“You are ridiculous,” she says and when he pouts she sighs. “Oh Jesus – ‘the shirt looks comfortable and classic, a nice color offsetting your skin tone beautifully.”
“and it would look better crumpled on the floor…”
“And it would look better…” She gasps her eyes widening. “Justin!” she scolds in a heated whisper and he breaks into near hysteric laughter, clapping his hands together. “Felicity is right outside,” Charlotte stutters watching her feet shuffle embarrassedly.
A knock sounds on the door and they turn at the sound, Charlotte jumping noticeably and Justin laughs again.
“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head and Felicity’s coppery head peeks in through the door.
“Hey, I’m gonna hit Starbucks. Bee ahr bee.”
She doesn’t even wait for a response, just lets the door close with a snap and Justin does his best to suppress his grin, an eyebrow lifting and Charlotte can only stare back wide-eyed.
“Well this is an interesting turn of events,” Justin chuckles, taking a smooth step closer to her, just a breath away now and her heart sets off at a run.
“Justin, about what’s going on between us-”
But before she has a chance to get the words out, his hand is cupping her face and his mouth presses to hers slowly, almost cautious, as if she were going to stop him but when she doesn’t it’s more urgent, his lips sliding over hers. Her hand comes up, fingers wrapping around his wrist with the idea of pulling him away, but when his tongue slips past her lips she just holds him there, caught up in the taste of him, so familiar after a week of nothing but him.
“Justin,” she says, panting just slightly, some of her coherency coming back as his lips smudge across her jaw, one large hand coming up to turn her head to the side to give him access to the long column of her neck. “We said this wasn’t going to happen anymore.”
His chuckle vibrates against her skin and she shivers. “Yeah, but then we did it again…” he says, his voice light and playful as his hands smooth down her arms, reaching for her hips.
She fights for composure, his lips smudging against her pulse point slowly making her weak. “Yeah but-”
“…lots of places…” Justin continues as if he hadn’t heard her, suddenly lost in the memories flashing through his brain, the pull in his groin torturously sweet.
Charlotte struggles, doing her best to keep focus, “-its different now that we’re not-
“-like that one time in the car-”
–in LA anymore and–”
“ –and then on the floor. God, we couldn’t even make it to the–”
“Amelia is going to–”
Her words are not halted by his own this time but instead by his reaction to them. His body stiffens, the muscles of his back going ridged and he lets her go, taking a small step back. His brow is drawn, pained by something she’s not sure of, maybe guilt, maybe the fact that she’s trying to brush him off. She’s truly sorry for the loss and habit has her reaching for his face, her fingertips swiping quickly along his jaw before dropping her hand and looking away.
“Justin,” she says softly and watches his face soften as she speaks his name, his hand reaching for her but she holds hers out in protest. “This was a bad idea from the start and you know it.”
Charlotte’s voice is calm, placating and he doesn’t appreciate the kid gloves. He let himself get revved up, let the memories outweigh the consequences and now his body is on fire, fingers itching for her skin, tongue longing to wrap around hers and he can’t remember the last time he felt passion like this. It’s reckless and fearless and surprisingly easy but then again things with Charlotte were usually a lot easier than things with-
“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” he says softly, his hand reaching tentatively for her hip. “Come on-”
“No, you come on,” she says, her voice slightly perturbed as she places a hand on his chest to stop him and Justin sighs. “We’re back in New York now,” she says and he’s mesmerized by the greenness of her eyes, the redness of her lips shaking his focus. She swallows hard, looking down at her hand against the soft blue of his dress shirt.
“You’re…you’re engaged.”
Justin’s hand snatches back from her and he sighs, turning away as he brings his hands up to run over his head, the short bristles of his hair scratchy against his palm. He really doesn’t want to think about this right now. If he doesn’t think about it then there’s nothing to figure out. If he doesn’t think about it then he can just enjoy this. He knows deep down it can’t go on, shouldn’t go on, but he’s not ready to let it go just yet. He consoles himself in thinking that if he’d just been having sex on at least a semi-regular basis that he’d be able to stop himself. When he allows himself to think about it at all that is.
“You know it’s wrong, Justin,” Charlotte says softly and he cringes turning back towards her.
“Charlie-”
“Don’t you ‘Charlie’ me,” she argues and he scowls petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “This…this isn’t good for either of us…we shouldn’t be-”
“But we are,” Justin cuts her off and before she has a chance to open her mouth he lets his fingers wrap around her biceps and bends his knees slightly so they are eye to eye. “Charlotte, we are.”
“We should stop,” she says weakly, trying to remain determined as he unleashes the full power of his soulful blue eyes on her.
“Why?” he asks a little harsher then he intended and when she jumps he lets his hands run up and down her biceps, trying to soothe. “I’m sorry…I just…”
He heaves a sigh, letting his head hang back, trying to understand the gnarled tangle of his emotions, trying to think of a way to explain this to her. He knows what she’s thinking, knows she’s just trying to protect herself and he wants to tell her she doesn’t need to. This isn’t something cheap and dirty and he has every intention of treating her with the respect she deserves. He would never hurt her. Not on purpose. He knows it’s not right, knows he’s probably royally fucking up his karma but he doesn’t want to let go just yet. Not yet.
“I just…I feel like I’m happy for the first time in…God, I can’t even remember.” He chuckles slightly, letting his eyes close as he heaves a sigh and she shivers as she feels it rush against her lips. “I know…” he pauses, peeking at her from under his lashes and his voice is barely a whisper when he continues. “I know this can’t…” he pauses and sighs again, not wanting to say the words. “I know okay.”
“Someone is going to get hurt-”
“No one has to know.”
“She sees everything.”
He snorts. “No…she really doesn’t.”
“Justin,” Charlotte whines with a sigh, bringing her hand up to rub against her face, her resolve cracking and she wishes that he would stop looking at her like that.
“It has nothing to do with her,” Justin says and Charlotte eyes him hard her hand falling to her side again.
“It has everything to do with her-”
“No, it doesn’t!” he insists and he doesn’t realize he’s raised his voice until he takes in the wideness of her eyes. “It doesn’t,” he adds, his voice even this time and she eyes him skeptically. “This is between me and you.”
Charlotte blinks at him, her heart stalling slightly. “M-me and you?” she questions and he nods, his hands still moving up and down her arms, more slowly now, just feeling the softness of her skin.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, his eyes on her lips, pulling his own bottom one between his teeth, the pull to kiss her so strong.
“And…what…what exactly…” Charlotte stutters, mesmerized by the seductive sweep of his tongue against his bottom lip. “What exactly does that entail?”
“Entail?” he questions, unsure of her meaning, stuttering back to consciousness, his eyes meeting hers for the first time and a warmness settles in his belly.
“Me and you…” she breathes and his eyelids flutter at the way it fans his lips, making him slightly dizzy so it takes him a moment to understand her words.
She wants a definition? He bristles slightly, his hands falling from her arms. What is it with women and definitions? Can’t they just enjoy the moment? Amelia bugged him for years about where they stood and the questions only really stopped once she’d gotten the ring on her finger. He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about that right now.
“We’re friends, Charlie,” he says before really thinking about it, and watches something he doesn’t quite understand bloom across her face.
“Friends?” she chuckles, nodding slightly in a condescending way. “Okay...”
“We are,” he insists, his hands coming up to cup her face and he watches her pupils dilate, her face going stoic and he smiles. “We’re really…” he brushes his nose against hers slightly, letting his breath fan her lips. “close…” his bottom lip brushes against her top one and he smirks at her sharp intake of breath. “…friends.”
His hand slips under her hair, around the back of her neck, his mouth crushing to hers and the want for her washes through his body in warm tingles, traveling from his chest and distributing itself through his limbs, the tips of his fingers and down to the tips of his toes, burning with it. His tongue seeks hers, pushing past her lips and she hums softly in protest, her hands coming between them again, pushing and he wrenches his mouth from hers, perturbed slightly by the interruption.
“But…” she says with a sigh, keeping her eyes closed for as long as possible, holding on to the last shreds of her resolve with all she has. “We’re in your office. We can’t do this here…”
It’s a weak argument and she knows it and the raise of his eyebrow makes her blush, knowing he’s remembering their first time, her legs curled around him on the desk. He’s staring at her steadily, a quiet lust causing his blue eyes to turn a darker shade of navy. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, just waits and lets her make her own decision. Or maybe he’s waiting because he already knows her decision. The small smile tugging at his full lips makes her think it’s probably the latter.
She knows its wrong, knows it with every fiber of her being, but unfortunately those fibers are also longing for him, her body begging for his after becoming so accustomed to getting it over the past week. Her heart is calling to him and right now, in this moment, he’s willing to answer. She knows there will come a time, probably soon, that he won’t and the knowledge pains her already, common sense screaming that she needs to stop this now but a bigger part of her, the desperate part, wants to savor this while she can. She sighs.
“We are so going to hell for-”
She can’t even finish her sentence, his hands reaching swiftly for her hips, and she’s in his arms before she even realizes what’s happening. He swallows her gasp as he lifts her from the floor, right out of her shoes, walking the few steps to pin her back against the door, drawing her legs around his waist. Her forehead leans against his, still slightly dazed as she looks down at him, slightly taller since he’s lifted her. A wave of heat washes through her as she feels his hands work their way under her dress, fingers hooking in her panties and trying to yank them down, feeling him smile as he presses his mouth to hers again and again.
“This is so wrong,” she pants, breathless, her arms circling his shoulders to help support her weight as his hands leave her, the jingling of his belt sounding over the softness of the radio.
“Shhh,” he chides playfully, as his hands work roughly up her thighs, forcing her dress higher and he’s blinded by want, hand coming up to fist in her hair as he tugs her head back, his mouth opening against her throat.
“Fee’s gonna come back and we’re gonna be screwed,” she lightly protests with a chuckle, fingers threading at the back of his neck and even after a week of this she still longs to wrap her hands through his curls.
Her heartbeat increases as a rustle of fabric sounds and she knows his pants and boxers are at his ankles. He lets out a throaty chuckle that steals her breath and she wonders how anyone ever resisted him as he pulls back just enough so that she can see his face, his lips twisted in a crooked grin.
“We’ll just have to be quick then, won’t we?”
She gasps as she feels him smooth against her folds, slicking the head in her wetness before searching for her entrance and slipping slowly inside. Her arms lock around his shoulders, her head falling back against the wood of the door with a dull thump as a deep sigh of satisfaction rushes past his lips. He presses his face to her neck, his hands cupping her ass, supporting her weight as he gives her a slow thrust, savoring the feeling of her body snug around his. Her legs lock around his waist, ankles crossing at his lower back and exhilaration zooms through his veins at the feeling of her pulling him in, tugging him closer and he’s glad that they agreed this should be quick.
She lets out a quiet yelp of surprise as he drives into her quickly. Usually he gives her a little more time to adjust, to just feel him but he’d said they’d have to be quick and with the way her thighs are trembling she isn’t exactly complaining. His hand comes up to wrap in her hair, cupping the back of her head, his mouth feverish on her own and his next thrust is less severe but just as deep, pulling a deep groan from her chest.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough, pulled deep from his chest, his hips bumping against hers savagely, each thrust pulling a grunt of pleasure from her.
“Uh-huh,” is all she can manage and her eyes sink shut as a wide smile pulls at his lips, his face burying in her neck as her head falls back against the door.
They don’t speak then, barely make a sound, soft groans muted against skin and shaky sighs breathed against ears. It’s only been a week but he feels like he knows her body well enough now, knows how to roll his hips just right to make her breathing hitch, knows about the tender spot under her ear that makes her shiver, knows the rhythm that makes her back arch. He’s setting it now, listening to each sharp intake of breath, feeling her thighs tense against his hips and he’s on fire knowing that it’s taking everything in her not to cry out.
He pulls back just slightly, planting his hands against the door behind him and bending his knees just slightly, causing her to slide harder against him. Her head falls forward, a quiet “oh” falling past her lips as her forehead collides with his and she thinks she hears him chuckle just slightly, a low groan pulling from his throat when her ankles cross tighter, pulling him deeper still. His breathing hitches and her breath pants harshly against his lips, his tongue snaking out to wet them as he looks down and through heavy lidded eyes he sees the glint of her necklace bouncing against her breast bone with the force of his thrusts. He stifles a moan against the side of her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin and he can feel the tension in his groin building.
“Are you-”
“Yes,” she breathes before he even has a chance to get the words out and he should have known by the way her fingers are winding in the fabric of his shirt, her thighs shaking.
Her throat closes on a scream as her body begins to tighten, forcing it down, trying to breathe, feeling his nose draw from the crook of her shoulder to just below her ear, his warm breath fanning her hair, tickling her earlobe. She hears his strangled groan, feels his hips stutter slightly in that tale tell sign that he’s practically there and the very idea detonates her like a bomb, causing her to throw her head back, forcing her lips to stay together so all she emits is a strangled whimper. She gasps as she hears his hand curl into a fist against the door, his short nails scraping against the wood before she feels it in her hair, fingers winding in her long locks as he lets out a quiet groan into her neck. His hips stop, pressing as deep as possible as his release rockets through his body, trembling with the force of it and Charlotte is grateful for the door behind her as he slumps against her.
They’re still for several seconds, Charlotte’s breath panting against the shell of his ear, his rustling against her collarbone. He lets out a low groan, a sigh rushing against the side of her neck and his nose, nuzzles just underneath her ear, a smile pulling at her lips as she feels him inhale deeply before pulling back and letting her wobbly legs slide to the ground.
It’s only slightly awkward, both of them grinning sheepishly as Justin bends down to pull up his pants and his boxers, Charlotte shimmying slightly, trying to push her skirt down to a more appropriate length. She bites her lip, scanning the floor for her underwear while trying not to watch as Justin buttons his pants and buckles his belt. But her attention is turned to him when he lets out a low whistle and she looks up finding him examining a pair of hot pink panties – her panties.
“Oh god, give me tho-” she says, snatching for them but he cuts her off.
“’Simply Irresistible’ huh?” he teases, examining the rhinestone letters on the back. “Well, I can’t help but agree-”
“Give me those!” Charlotte exclaims, ripping them from his hand, her cheeks flaming as she bends down. “I had no idea I was going to-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Justin cuts her off, offering her his hand for balance and politely turning his head as she works her underwear back up her legs.
“So this is how this is gonna go now?” Charlotte asks, her voice slightly uncertain as she lets go of his hand, her toes slipping back into her shoe. She wobbles slightly, her hand reaching out for his shoulder and he presses his hand against her lower back to support her as she slips her foot in the other.
“I sure hope so,” Justin grins pecking her temple as he lets her go, adjusting himself between his legs and Charlotte is about to reply sharply but when she looks up and finds him practically strutting across the office, she giggles instead. “Don’t think so much,” he chides, moving back behind his desk and flopping into his chair, wiggling until he’s comfortable.
Don’t think so much? That’s his answer to her? She shakes her head, the frustration welling up again. She wants answers. She wants honesty, with her and with himself. She has this overpowering urge to smack him, to shake him but he looks so damn happy, that goofy ass smile still on his face as he peruses his calendar that it dissipates quickly. She can’t help but smile herself.
“I’m back!” Felicity’s voice calls, muffled by the door and Justin grins as Charlotte jumps. “Why’s this door clo-” Fee cuts off seeing Charlotte standing in the middle of the office and gives them a confused look. “Oh Charlotte, you’re still here?”
“Yeah, she’s helping me with the budget,” Justin says easily, throwing his feet up on the desk. “Did you know she was a finance major?”
“Ew no,” Felicity says, her nose wrinkling and Charlotte chuckles.
“My sentiments exactly,” Charlotte responds and Justin laughs.
“Grab that file there, Charlie,” Justin says, gesturing to the sideboard and Charlotte snatches it, doing her best not to let her legs wobble. “Give it a glance and tell me what you think.” He adds as she’s about to hand it to him and she stops, blinking slowly.
“Um…” she stutters slightly, opening the file and glancing at the numbers inside. Her brow furrows. “Good lord, what kind of accountant do you have?”
“I dunno his name is Vinny Tuscano but he asked me to call him Vinny the Fish,” Justin says with a dramatic shrug and Charlotte looks up at him alarmed. “I’m kidding, Charlotte,” Justin says as if she’s stupid and she glares at him. “Is there something wrong in there?”
“Well your revenue is…” Charlotte says, flipping through pages, frowning. “Has your accountant talked to you about your profit margin?”
Justin blinks at her slowly. “Profit margin? That’s the money we’re making right?”
“Yes,” Charlotte responds with a slight laugh. “It looks like your projected budget is really close to what you’re making.”
“Is that bad?” Justin asks, watching her face as her eyes scan the document, an unfamiliar feeling of dread pulling in his stomach. He wasn’t used to being concerned with money.
“No,” Charlotte says slowly, her eyes still combing over the page. “No, not necessarily. I mean, I’ve only glanced at it but it doesn’t seem like you’re in any danger of not breaking even it’s just-”
“Justin!” Felicity hollers from the other room. “Amelia’s on the phone!”
They both cringe, eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before looking away. “Yeah, I got it,” Justin hollers, reaching for the phone.
“Have these looked at,” Charlotte whispers, setting the file in front of him before she goes to leave and Justin nods, giving her a tense smile as he pulls the phone to his ear.
“…and I don’t care if your mother is on her death bed you’re not to use my name to get anything…”
Justin sighs. “Amelia…baby…”
Charlotte cringes as she reaches the door, anger and hurt swelling inside her so fast it almost makes her sick and she fights the urge to turn back and give him an accusatory look. She has to get used to that, has to accept that the pet names and the softness in his voice are going to be something she has to endure if whatever it is they’re doing continues. He’s in a relationship, engaged. Jealousy and hurt aren’t really an option for her, not a plausible one at least. That doesn’t stop her from feeling them. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, forcing her legs to move, stepping out of the door and trying to ignore the slickness still smeared on her thighs.
Justin watches Charlotte go, a sigh pulling from his throat, guilt burning in his chest. Talking to his fiancé barely ten minutes after fucking her assistant doesn’t sit well with him. None of this really sits well with him and the voice in his head that’s been calling him a coward has started to sing a different tune, one that sounds eerily like selfish prick. Maybe Charlotte was right. Maybe they should stop this. He and Amelia have been together for such a long time, they’re engaged for chrissake. He’s risking everything he’s worked so hard to build, fought so hard to keep together, for what? For a quick fuck against his office door?
“Oh good, you’re there,” he hears Amelia say and he hears her sigh rattle across the line. “Did Charlotte ever get there?”
Oh she got there all right. “Yes,” he stutters, clearing his throat, letting his large hand smooth across his desk calendar as the guilt eats at him. “She just left.”
“Justin, darling,” Amelia says heaving another sigh and he cringes. Her calling him “darling” is never a good sign. “You and I need to talk.” Definitely not a good sign.
“What about, sugar?” he asks, trying to keep his voice light as his skin starts to crawl, dread settling in the pit of his stomach.
“Have you checked your email this morning?”
“You wanna talk about my emailing habits?” he questions, spinning in his chair to face his computer, swirling the mouse until it comes to life.
“Ha ha, Justin you’re just too droll,” Amelia says, her voice dripping with sarcasm and Justin can’t help but laugh.
“Droll?”
“Justin-”
“Did you seriously just say droll?”
“Oh would you sto-”
“What are we in a Sherlock Holmes novel?”
“That’s not the poin-”
Justin chuckles, putting on a stuffy British accent. “I say Amelia you are just too droll for your own go-”
“JUSTIN WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME PLEASE!”
Justin goes quiet, his long fingers tangling in the phone cord biting his lip as the playfulness fades and the guilt he’d been trying to mask with it gnaws ruthlessly at his insides. As much as Amelia got on his nerves sometimes, it was conversations like this, where she used stupid words like “droll” that made him really kind of love her, made him slip back into a time when they were just two kids running around New York like they owned the place, back when nothing was complicated and they just loved each other. Before everything got so fucked up.
“You just said please,” he points out, trying to put some of the previous humor in his voice, but regret tastes bitter in his mouth and he hears her sigh. He tries again, “You never say please. I think I should mark this on my calendar-”
“I emailed you this morning with a few links,” Amelia says quickly, her voice firm, showing no indication that she suspects anything amiss and for once he’s grateful she’s missed his less than chipper tones.
“Yes, I see it here,” he says, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear, clicking on the first link.
Justin’s brow furrows as one of those celebrity blogs comes up and pictures of himself, Johann Lindeberg, and Charlotte fill his screen. It was the day they’d spent at the beach under the guise of discussing a new swimsuit line for his clothing company but in all honesty it was a way to let Charlotte see the Pacific Ocean which she’d never seen before. They’d had a good enough time and honestly by the end of the “meeting” he was almost convinced it’d be a good idea if they did do a swimwear line. They’d gotten back to the hotel, drained from the sand and surf, skin stinging from getting a little too much sun and when Justin had followed Charlotte to her room to borrow some of the aloe she’d had the foresight to bring he’d gotten a chance to see her tan lines.
“Did you click the link?” Amelia asks, breaking his train of thought and he shakes his head as if trying to shake away the memory, but when he shifts uncomfortably in his chair he can still feel the rug burns on his knees.
“Yeah, I did. Me at the beach,” he says absently, clicking through the group of photos watching Charlotte hand him a pen and paper, watching himself and Johann point down the beach, seeing their heads all thrown back in laughter.
“You and Charlotte at the beach,” Amelia corrects and Justin’s blood runs cold. “Click the next one.”
Justin’s hand is shaking hard as he clicks the next link, sending him to another celebrity blog, this time with pictures of him and five or six dancers from his last tour along with Charlotte, all leaving Katsuya in Studio City. Nick and Mischa are laughing and carrying on behind him and Charlotte who have their heads resolutely down. His hand hovers at her lower back. They hadn’t even made it to the hotel that night, him pulling her right over the gearshift and into his lap in the parking garage…
“Justin,” Amelia’s voice is calm, devoid of emotion and he feels like his heart is going to hammer it’s way out of his chest, sure she can hear it through the phone. “Justin, there are six links there, all of which show you and Charlotte together.”
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that she wouldn’t find out? The distance and the anger had kept him from really thinking about the consequences too much but now with Amelia’s voice in his ear, knowing she is just across town and not across the country he realizes everything he could lose. They’d been together for three years. They’re involved in each other’s families, have a home together, share a life together. They’re engaged. And he has been putting all of that in jeopardy for what? A few fleeting moments with a girl who he hasn’t even known a year, who while he considered her one of his closest friends was still just that, a friend…or maybe some weird hybrid version of the term that allowed for the intense connection he feels with her now, but that could just be the sex. Confusion swirls in him and he tries not to think about that part right now. That was him and Charlotte and he couldn’t deal with that when he was trying to deal with him and Amelia.
If there was even going to be a “him and Amelia” after this conversation. Shame and sadness cause his voice to shake slightly but he’s ready to take whatever Amelia has to dish out, feeling he deserves her wrath.
“Yeah, I-”
“Honey, you don’t have to hang out with her,” Amelia says, her voice slightly pitying and he blinks slowly, his mind spinning its wheels, unsure as to what to say.
“Huh?” is all he can manage, his heart still thudding unevenly in his chest as he rests his elbow on his desk, rubbing his forehead wearily.
“It’s very sweet of you to try and include her since she doesn’t have any real friends but,” Amelia lets out a small laugh, “you don’t have to pretend to be her friend. Remember I do pay her.”
She doesn’t know, doesn’t suspect a thing. Relief so intense it’s almost disorienting floods him and he sighs, vowing that he’s going to be better. Going to stop this thing between he and Charlotte, whatever it is. She was right, it can’t go on and he’s not willing to risk what he has, what he’s built, what he’s sacrificed everything for. He’s not ready to let go. He blinks. He’s not going to let go, he means.
“I…I…” Justin stutters, he chuckles at the absurd perplexity of it all. “Yeah I know. I just…I mean it didn’t really bother me. Her tagging along.” He winces, feeling his slight even if Charlotte couldn’t.
“Okay well, I just wanted to make sure you knew that,” Amelia says, her voice somewhat placating and Justin nods as if she can see him. “How was your trip anyway?”
Her voice is offhand and he can hear the rustling of papers in the background. “Good,” he says simply, guilt gnawing at him, caution unwilling to let him say more.
“Good,” Amelia says, her voice jovial and he can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. He loves when she sounds genuinely happy. “Well, I have to go,” she says, her voice disgruntled again and Justin sighs. “These girls, I swear, Justin. Public education in the country is a joke.”
“Lucky you went to boarding school then, huh baby,” Justin teases and laughs when he hears her sigh wearily.
“You’re just full of jokes this morning, aren’t you?” Amelia snaps and Justin licks his lips looking down and shaking his head chastised. “Well I’m glad you’re in a good mood because over the next couple weeks we have a lot of work to do and I don’t want to listen to you whine.”
“When have I ever whined-”
“We have to go to the florist and finalize the arrangements. Charlotte is going to pick up the samples on Thursday and bring them here so you’ll need to clear your afternoon. We’re going to have to meet with the photographer because our wedding announcement absolutely has to be in the Times style section by the end of the month.”
“Oh, who’s shooting?” Justin asks, nudging the folder in front of him with his finger and he hears Amelia’s sigh rattle through the line.
“Annie Lebowitz, Justin who else? I’ve only been talking about this for months. Isabel was supposed to call and confirm her for next week but there was some kind of problem.” Amelia scoffs. “Something about being in Connecticut for her godson’s bar mitzvah… I’m having Charlotte call as soon as she gets back.”
“Well, honey, it sounds like she’s unava-”
“And we have to book the transportation for the day. I need to know who all from your family needs limousines-”
Justin eyes the folder in front of him, opening it slowly. “Babe, can’t we just get the town car to-”
“And we need to look at decorations. Patti has a few options for us to look at. Next Tuesday works for me so have Felicity clear your schedule. Oh and we need to book the hotel rooms for all the guests. I was thinking the Plaza-”
“Whoa, the Plaza?” Justin interjects, his eyes pulling from the rows and rows of numbers on the page in front of him. “That’s awfully pricey-”
“My parents are taking care of it,” Amelia says offhandedly. “And we need to do another cake tasting-”
“Your parents are taking care of it?” Justin interrupts frowning. “I thought we agreed they were just going to pay for the ceremony and reception.”
“Well, yes dear, but this is part of the wedding and-”
“I thought we agreed to take care of the outside stuff, like the hotel rooms and the car services and what not,” Justin says, eyes pulling to the folder again, wishing he could decipher the information inside and he hears Amelia’s tinkling laugh.
“Darling, we did but Daddy doesn’t mind and the Plaza is so much-”
“Amelia, I’ve told you a thousand times,” Justin says, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache begins to bloom behind his eyes. “I don’t want your parents giving us hand outs. We make more than enough to-”
“Justin, we need one hundred and twelve hotel rooms,” Amelia snaps. “The Plaza-”
“Is too expensive for that many rooms? Yeah I know. Which is why I’m saying we need to do something else,” Justin says, noticing for the first time that the column of numbers titled “Expenses” and the column entitled “Revenue” are almost uncomfortably close in denomination. The line is quiet. “Amelia?”
“Yes, I’m here,” she says, her voice cold and Justin sighs.
“Baby, you know I give you everything I can-”
“My father is willing to pay-”
“I don’t care!” Justin says, his voice raising, his ears going hot as he slams the folder shut. He can provide for his family. He’s been doing it since he was seventeen years old. “I’m not taking a hand out from your parents. We said we’d handle the-”
“Well, I do care!” Amelia yells back and a stab of pain sears through Justin’s head. He needs an aspirin. “I don’t know about the backwards people you grew up with but my friends expect more than the Marriot, Justin!”
“Fine,” Justin says with a sigh, rubbing his temple slowly. “Fine, whatever.”
“Perhaps they can get us a deal at a Holiday Inn down in Hoboken,” Amelia mutters cruelly. “Your people will feel right at home.”
“I said, fine,” Justin snaps firmly and he can hear her bristle across the line. “We’ll discuss this later. Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” Amelia says and Justin fights the urge to let his head drop to his desktop. “Next Friday I’m getting the bridal party together for dinner at Remi.”
“Why?” Justin asks wearily, suddenly very tired but at least the guilt has subsided somewhat.
“Because that’s where we’re having the rehearsal dinner. Bianca wanted-”
“Bianca?” Justin questions, his eyes flying open and he fights the groan of disdain in his throat.
“Yes, Justin she is my Maid of Honor,” Amelia replies condescendingly. “Anyway, I want to make sure they’re going to be able to handle our headcount. It’ll be fun.”
Justin couldn’t imagine how a night out with all of Amelia’s snotty debutante friends would classify as fun.
“So it’s just gonna be me and a bunch of girls,” Justin asks, his voice sullen and he hears Amelia sigh.
“No, of course not, they’re bringing their husbands and boyfriends and what not. You can talk sports and money all you like,” Amelia says, a teasing lilt to her voice and Justin does his best not to grumble.
“Yeah, sports and money. My fave,” he can’t help but saying and he hears a clicking sound indicative of Amelia switching ears, her earrings scraping against the plastic.
“Yes, it should be a nice evening,” she replies disinterestedly. “I’ve got to go, Kristin has just handed me something that’s going to wreck my whole week.”
“I’m sorry,” Justin says automatically, his eyes drawing once again to the folder in front of him, nudging it uneasily.
“Yes, well, I’ll see you at home. I’m going to be late. I’m meeting a few A&R guys for drinks.”
“Fine, fine,” Justin says, heaving a tired sigh. “I’ll see you then.”
“Hey,” she says and he lets his eyes close, not thinking he can handle one more thing. “It’s good to have you back on my side of the country,” she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice and something inside him tugs and tears, his throat closing as a well of emotion washes over him.
“Yeah,” he says softly, guilt gnawing at him ruthlessly and all he can do is love her. “Yeah, it’s good to be home.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to you later,” she says offhandedly and Justin swallows hard.
“Yeah, I love-” but a click cuts him off and the line goes dead. He sighs. “…you.” He finishes to no one and sits with the phone to his ear for a long moment, listening to the static on the line and wondering how the hell he’s gotten himself into this mess.
Author's Chapter Notes:
OKay guys I am SO SORRY this took so friggin long! Coming back from Europe and staying in Jacksonville for like two weeks have me NO time for anything and then once I got home I had to go see everybody and just GAH!!! I know excuses excuses but seriouslytherewasareasonomg hahaha. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!
Story Tags: fiancej desksex affair love hottubsex
