Justin can’t believe this is happening to him right now. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined. Well…not lately anyway. When he woke up this morning, his back killing him from his fourth night in a row in that death trap of a guest bed the pounding of hammers striking in beat with the pounding in his head he thought surely his day was doomed from the start.

Operation Redecorate is in full swing, six or so construction workers starting at six a.m. for the past two days and this morning was no different, waking up to three decorators standing outside his door talking about sand-colored paint as opposed to taupe. He had just ignored them on his route to his and Amelia’s room, more so Amelia’s than his these days, but all his clothes were still in the closet. Ignoring everything was the only thing really left in his power to do. He’d showered and dressed, looked at himself in the mirror and realized for the third day in a row he’d neglected to shave but couldn’t be compelled to care. He and Amelia had their first fight of the day over breakfast, which was quickly becoming part of their new morning routine, and he’d trudged off to work, where messages and meetings and boredom awaited him. And on top of all that he hadn’t seen or spoken to Charlotte all week. He was beginning to wonder what he could have possibly done this time.

So imagine his utter and complete surprise at this spectacular turn of events.

“What…what are you doing?” he questions even though he doesn’t really care all that much as Charlotte’s hands finish undoing his belt and she flicks open the button of his trousers, easing the zipper down slowly.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asks innocently as her hand reaches inside to grip him through his boxers, fingernails tickling him slightly as she begins to guide him through the slit.

If he would have known that admitting total and utter defeat would have Charlotte on her knees behind his desk he would have went on a whiney bitch lament a long time ago. One minute he’s sitting there, saying how his life is just totally fucked and there’s no possible way it can get any better and the next…

“You’re really gonna-”

He can’t even finish his sentence watching in utter disbelief as her lips close around the head of his cock and he thinks no more. Its short, almost embarrassingly so and he feels bad that he doesn’t warn her, hearing the slight gurgle in her throat when he comes but she doesn’t pull back, doing her best to swallow and he thanks God for her in that moment. When she finally does pull back she looks up at him slightly out of breath with a sort of amused smile, wiping her mouth as casually as possible with the back of her hand.

“I thought you guys usually made us work a little harder,” she teases lightly even though she feels just as embarrassed as he looks, his ears turning red as he reaches to situate himself back in his pants.

“Yeah well…” he mumbles, buttoning and zipping his pants. “It’s been awhile.”

She makes a soft sound of pity in the back of her throat before patting his knee and standing, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress and she looks good. Ridiculously so and he’s not sure if it’s the post-orgasmic high or what but the mere sight of her makes him giddy.

“Do you have any water?” she asks shifting slightly, her tongue sliding out to lick her lips and he’s mesmerized for a moment before clearing his throat and sitting up in his chair.

“Yeah in the fridge over there,” he gestures towards the bookcase and she nods tucking her hair behind her ear awkwardly, slipping from between him and the desk.

It’s a short distance but long enough for him to catch the slight rhythm of her hips, the sway of her dress hypnotic and he’s never quite realized how slender her ankles are, the curve of her calves smooth as they reach the back of her knees, the thickness of her thighs concealed under the swaying hem of her dress. She’s got on some killer heels today. Since when did Charlotte buy designer?

“You look good,” he says before his mouth goes dry when she bends over to pluck a water bottle from the fridge.

She straightens, glancing at him over her shoulder in what she tries to pull off as a casual way and he can’t help but find himself turned on by it. It’s innocent, almost coy and the way she’s trying to make the fact that she just sucked his dick in the middle of his office while his secretary was at lunch less awkward makes him want her all over again.

“Thanks my feet are killing me,” she offers somewhat feebly, her head ducking like it always does when he compliments her.

Justin laughs then, watching her small hand close over the lid, struggling to open it. He’s just about to offer his assistance when she gets it loose, the clicking of the cap detaching from the plastic ring sounding over the soft drone of his radio. She takes a sip, swishing the water around in her mouth a little before swallowing and he doesn’t envy girls but he’s so grateful for this one. He knows he doesn’t deserve her, that she deserves more than this, more than something quick and dirty on her lunch hour but he’s just selfish enough not to want to let her go. The thought of her with someone else is enough to make his skin crawl, his palms to break out in a sweat. He can’t have her but he sure as hell doesn’t want anyone else to have her either.

And just like that the nagging insecurity is back, the one that has been pestering him since Saturday at dinner. It’s plagued him at night when he’s tried to sleep, prodded at him when his mind wandered at meetings and gnawed at him with every unreturned text over the past several days. What was she doing when she wasn’t bending over backwards for Amelia or just bending over for him? Did she go out and meet secret friends, maybe hook up with an old colleague for drinks or was she on her knees behind a desk in a financial building across town?

“Hey,” Justin says and Charlotte turns to look at him, her cheeks full of water before swallowing and he waits a beat, debating whether or not to ask.

“Yes?” she questions, screwing the cap back on the bottle and setting it on top of the fridge, placing one hand on her hip and he bites his lip, watching his hand smooth across the calendar on his desk.

“Did you…I mean…what you said about your old job…before,” he says slowly, chancing a glance up at her and her brows are drawn in confusion. “You know, about why you quit…that was the truth right?”

Charlotte blinks a few times before answering. “Yes.” He looks up at her, peering at her through slightly narrowed eyes. “Why?” she asks suspiciously and his eyebrows raise, a ghost of something passing his face before its perfectly smooth and blank, a mask.

“No…no reason,” he says and she frowns.

“Why would I lie to you about that?” she asks, leaning against the fridge and regarding him curiously. He fidgets slightly in his chair but his expression is nonchalant.

“I dunno,” he says with an unaffected shrug but he won’t look at her. “Maybe you were embarrassed?”

Charlotte lets out a small laugh. “Yes because admitting that I went to school for four years for something I ended up hating isn’t embarrassing at all.”

“Yeah but there are more embarrassing things,” Justin says casually and he still won’t look at her, his finger drawing lazy patterns across the desktop.

“Like what?” Charlotte asks, her eyes narrowing and she sees his shoulders tense even though his face remains calm.

“Like…” he pauses and lets his head fall to the side as if thinking offhandedly but his eyes are focused, “an affair…” he throws the word out casually, as if it were just mere happenstance that it was the first thing that came to his mind but his eyes are searching as they meet hers, “…with your boss maybe?”

There is a moment’s pause before Charlotte bursts out laughing. “God how long have you been waiting to ask me that?” she questions, giggling slightly and he frowns.

“That’s not an answer.”

Her laughter stops abruptly. “Oh…well in that case,” she says, her voice calm and her eyes are serious but it breaks into curiosity. “Seriously have you been worried about that for awhile?”

Justin sighs. “I’m not worried,” he insists bristling and scowling down at his desktop. Charlotte smiles softly, pushing off the fridge and taking slow steps towards him. “I just figured…” his voice trails as he sees her coming closer, chin tilting up so he can keep his eyes on her face as she moves to stand beside him. “…you know maybe you didn’t wanna tell me…” he trails again as she nudges his chair back farther from his desk so she can step around his legs. “…because we didn’t know each other then.”

He inhales sharply as she lowers herself into his lap, one arm wrapping around his neck as the other reaches to fiddle with his tie. His arm goes instinctively around her ribs, supporting her back as his other hand moves to hold her thigh, keeping her firmly on his legs. Her nose nuzzles at his and he stiffens, suddenly finding it hard to breathe from the sheer intimacy of the simple gesture, his heart fluttering nervously in his chest. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. What he and Charlotte have going on between them is strictly…what? He’s said it himself that she means more to him than something quick and dirty, that he doesn’t want what they have to be sordid or raunchy. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants it to be some emotion-filled thing either.

“I didn’t sleep with my boss,” she says, her fingers unwinding from his tie and when her eyes meet his it steals his breath. “I’ve never lied to you, Justin.”

He swallows hard, palms beginning to sweat. He purses his lips, giving her a tense nod and she nods back solemnly. They stare at each other for a few short seconds, Justin’s heart thudding slightly off rhythm. She’s so close to him, all over him, body and soul and he can feel her working her way inside him, slipping in through the armor around his heart and it scares him. Having two women in there isn’t the best of ideas and as always the reality of what is actually happening lacerates him at the mere thought of Amelia. His brow creases at the pain, his head turning slightly away from Charlotte and her face goes uncertain.

“Is this okay,” she asks, shifting a little, her arm uncurling just slightly from around his shoulders and his hand tightens on her thigh.

“No… you’re okay,” he says and his smile is only partly forced as he pushes himself not to think about that right now.

“You believe me right?” she asks, her eyes searching his and this time he really does smile, getting used to the closeness of it, enjoying the soft weight of her in his lap, her body warm and soft.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“I wouldn’t do something like that. I got promoted because I caught some pretty substantial errors in a client’s portfolio. Some…” she pauses, a flicker of hurt washing through her eyes but its gone before Justin can think to question it. “Some people just started rumors because-”

“-they were petty assholes?” Justin cuts her off and Charlotte gives him a feeble smile.

“Yeah,” Charlotte says. “I mean don’t get me wrong, Anderson was a nice guy and maybe he was willing but I just... I dunno I don’t do that.”

Their eyes meet for a moment and then they look away, suppressing smiles and forcing down laughs. “Well…I used to not.”

“I’m not your boss,” Justin says, rolling his ankles so they swivel from side to side and the humor leaves Charlotte’s eyes.

“No…you’re worse.”

Justin cringes. “You’re nothing if not blunt, Charlie,” he says with a sigh, shifting awkwardly and Charlotte sighs, turning to press her lips against his temple and that suffocating intimacy is back, causing him to silently squirm but he doesn’t pull away, enjoying the feel of her mouth against his skin, enjoying the tension, the pull towards her warring with the moral urge to pull away.

“I find it keeps us honest,” she says softly against his skin before kissing his temple lightly.

He shivers, his heart warming in his chest at her tenderness and he fights the urge to let his arms wrap tightly around her, to bury his face in the warm clean skin of her neck and just breathe. It isn’t until right now that he realizes that sex wasn’t the only thing he’d been missing out on with Amelia. It’s almost funny to him how he never noticed it until now after one small taste of affection that he had been starving for it.

“Oh jeez,” Charlotte says, her body stiffening and he fights the urge to whine as she pulls out of his lap. “It’s almost one; my lunch hour is almost over.” Justin watches the subtle sashay of her hips as she walks around to the other side of his desk, checking her watch thoughtfully. “I should probably grab something to eat,” she mutters to herself and before he even has a chance to breathe her eyes cut to him. “And if you make one comment about having a hot dog for lunch I will smack you upside your fuzzy head.”

Justin bursts out laughing, wheezing from the force of it. “I was going to say no such thing,” he replies, reaching up to rub a hand over his short hair. “And my head is not fuzzy.”

“Its getting long,” Charlotte says, nodding towards his hair and he shrugs running a hand over it again. “Does Fee have an appointment for you?”

Justin frowns. “I thought you liked my hair longer.”

Charlotte blinks back at him somewhat surprised but recovers quickly. “Yeah… I do.” She gives him a searching look before looking down at her shoes. “Fee’s gonna be back soon. I gotta go.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Justin asks and Charlotte turns back to him, a full smile pulling at her lips until his favorite dimple makes an appearance on her cheek.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

She gives him a quick wink before reaching for the door. “Hey Charlotte.”

She pauses, turning again, letting her hair swing around as butterflies tickle her stomach and he’s risen from his chair, standing uncertainly. He takes a step around his desk and she turns back, meeting him half way in the middle of the room. His face is slightly unsure and she can feel her heart pick up.

“I just…I was wondering…” he looks down at the floor between them and lets out a nervous chuckle that makes her shiver. “I know this is kinda weird and outta the blue but…would you mind…um…taking a look at my…my finances?”

Charlotte blinks back at him. She doesn’t know what she was expecting but that certainly wasn’t it. She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, crossing her arms tight over her chest.

“Yeah,” she says nodding and he lets out a sigh of relief. “Yeah sure. What am I looking for?”

“Well…erm…” he shifts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I kinda just want you to make sure that…um…I’m not broke.” His ears turn red and Charlotte giggles.

“I seriously doubt you’re broke,” she says placing a hand on his shoulder. “Where are the files?” she asks looking around.

“Um…yeah about that…see I didn’t know what you needed so I just called my accountant and authorized you to poke around.”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow. “Poke around?” Justin nods and she stares at him a beat before laughing softly.

“Alright money bags I’ll call over there. Anything you wanna tell me before I start looking at credit reports and what not? Any weird porno or drug habits you’d like to share?”

“Well,” he says solemnly. “I think you should know… I have a problem.” he looks down and Charlotte’s brows draw.

“What?” she asks softly and he chances a glance up at her, his blue eyes doleful and he blinks quickly as if stealing himself. “What… what kind of problem?” she asks, touching his arm lightly and he sighs.

“Shoes,” he breathes out heavily, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes and it takes Charlotte a minute to process. “Jordans, Pumas, Vans. Its…” he shakes his head and his voice cracks perfectly on cue. “Its an addiction.” He brings a hand to his mouth as if forcing back tears and Charlotte scoffs at him, the back of her hand smacking his chest hard and he winces, a brilliant smile lighting up his face.

“You’re such an asshole,” she mutters but she can’t force down her smile, “Okay I have to go,” she says seriously and she stands on her tip toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips that he is completely unprepared for. She giggles rubbing at her lips. “Your beard tickles.”

She reaches up to touch his cheek, her nails scratching lightly at the scruffiness of his beard and he chuckles, that full feeling overtaking him again when she pats his chest. He watches her walk back to the door, still slightly dazed. She’d kissed him so quickly and thoughtlessly, almost as if it’d just been second nature and he marvels at it. Amelia hadn’t done that in…god he can’t even remember. He shakes his head hard.

“Yeah go get that hotdog,” he teases, turning to go back to his desk but he can’t help looking back and he finds her in the doorway, leaning back into the room to reach for the door handle.

“Oh I already had one,” she quips, winking at him quickly before pulling the door closed behind her.

She shakes her head at herself as she leaves his office, every step to the elevators sending a jab of pain through her heels and up her calves. These shoes really will be the death of her. She sighs, taking longer strides, trying to alleviate some of the pressure but it doesn’t help. It does however get her to the elevator faster. She steps inside, leaning her head back against the cool wooden façade and heaving a sigh.

That wasn’t exactly how she’d planned that encounter to go. She’d been avoiding him all week, hadn’t called or come by, hadn’t returned any of his texts because it’s what she always does when she’s upset with him and doesn’t think she can keep her mouth shut about it. She’d been seriously miffed over his text on Saturday and despite her better efforts to logic herself out of her anger she couldn’t seem to keep from being bitter. She knows he can’t give her any more than he already is and she knows that what they have will never be anything more than what they are right now. She knows this. But goddamnit, it doesn’t stop her from thinking he’s a fucking asshole for it.

She’d only come by because she knew the longer she waited the harder it would be for them to act normal around each other. It wasn’t that she missed him. No of course not. And she’d only done what she’d done because listening to him talk about the stupid renovation and hearing his voice sounding so dull and defeated as he listed every stupid thing Amelia was doing with the place, none of which sounded like anything he wanted or cared about and he just looked so goddamn sad. She hadn’t really thought about anything else but making him feel better. She lets her eyes close, bringing her head forward just enough so it’s slightly jarring when she lets it drop back against the wall with a dull thud. She’d always considered herself to be a fairly smart person. Why was it she was such an utter idiot in this situation?

The doors ding open and she opens her eyes, coming face to face with Felicity who looks slightly shocked then delighted to see her, people nudging past her into the elevator.

“Hey Charlotte!” she exclaims with a brilliant smile and then her face goes slightly slack, her brows raising as Charlotte steps towards her. “Wow cute dress!”

Charlotte blinks back bewildered. No one ever complimented her on how she dressed. Well, aside from Justin but she’s pretty sure he’s biased. “Um…thanks.”

“You and Justin have lunch?” Felicity asks, her face puckering in confusion. “It wasn’t on his schedule.”

“Oh I was just…swinging by,” Charlotte replies and a flash of panic rolls through her at the realization that she spent her lunch hour with Justin alone in his office and had no legitimate excuse as to why.

“Good maybe he’ll be in a better mood,” Felicity says undeterred, stepping into the elevator. “He’s been all mopey mope all week.” She flashes Charlotte a brilliant smile as the doors start to close. “See ya!”

Charlotte doesn’t have time to respond, just turns and nudges her way through the crowded lobby and onto the street, nervousness gnawing at her. She’s usually so much more careful about these things. Its true that the past couple weeks have seen her become more complacent with her current situation. The taboo of what they are doing is starting to wear off the more time they spend together and she guesses it’s only natural that some of the paranoia is beginning to wane. But that doesn’t mean she should be letting her guard down.

She checks her watch, ultimately deciding against lunch and begins her pilgrimage back to Amelia’s office. She walks a block before she breaks down and pays the eight dollars to take a cab back down Fifth Avenue, her toes rejoicing in the cramped confines of her heels. Isabel and Lauren are giggling across their desks at each other when she arrives, their smiles fading slightly as the lay eyes on her. She gives them a quick smile anyway, turning to hang her jacket on the rack.

“Charlotte,” Lauren says cheerily and Charlotte freezes, turning towards them slowly and finding them smiling back at her. Well that’s a strange turn of events. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh…” is all Charlotte can respond with, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Yeah,” Isabel says looking to Lauren and then back at Charlotte. “We were wondering where you got your dress.”

Charlotte blinks and looks down at herself dumbly. This had to be some kind of trick. It reeked of those stupid teen movies where the popular girls compliment the plain, nerdy girl only to insult her as soon as she let her guard down. However, it is also the second compliment she’d gotten on her outfit in the past forty-five minutes and as she runs her hands down her skirt nervously she can’t help but be a little proud of herself. It was an impulse buy really, just something she’d seen and fell in love with on one of Amelia’s fool errands and she really wouldn’t have bought it if it hadn’t been on sale.

“Oh... I got it at Saks,” she says fighting her blush as the foreign words fall from her mouth and a strange feeling washes over her, a feeling of almost discomfort she can’t place.

“We just got back from there,” Lauren chimes, looking to Isabel and Charlotte can hear the telltale crinkle of shopping bags under their desks as they shift in their chairs and giggle.

“Get anything good,” Charlotte asks, not really knowing what else to say. After all Lauren and Isabel had never engaged her in casual conversation before.

“Oh you know, just a few dresses I had my eye on,” Lauren says with a shrug and then her eyes cut to Isabel quickly before turning back to her. “Hey, listen, we’re going again tomorrow…you know…if you want to join us.”

Charlotte, who had been about to sit down, nearly misses her chair, her hands reaching to grip the desktop until she is safely in her seat. She looks at the other girls wide eyed, keeping enough of her composure not to let her mouth hang open thankfully but she can tell by their nervous glances that her shock is evident.

“We just noticed that you’d been showing a…” Lauren pauses, her eyes catching Isabel’s briefly before looking back at Charlotte, “a more concentrated interest in fashion.”

“I have?” Charlotte asks slightly bewildered and the girls both giggle.

“Well, yeah Charlotte,” Lauren says giving her a searching look. “This is the third designer I’ve seen you wear.”

Charlotte’s mouth falls open, looking down at herself in complete shock. Since when did she buy designer? Sure she hadn’t been to her regular shopping haunts in a while but that was only because she was constantly at some department store on an errand and if she needed anything she’d pick it up then. It hadn’t been a conscious decision. She would never intentionally buy designer clothes. Not that there was anything wrong with it she guessed. She had been having an easier time finding things, dresses hanging exactly the way they are supposed to, skirts hugging her curves as opposed to strapping them in. It’s even caused her to have a little bit more sympathy for her Christmas gift from Amelia. It’s a very well made bag and is actually very easy to carry albeit still dead ugly.

“We just figured that if you’re shopping at Saks maybe we can help you,” Isabel blurts and Lauren’s head whips, her eyes widening at the other girl who purses her lips and ducks her head embarrassed.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with what you’ve been wearing lately,” Lauren hurries to amend and Isabel nods enthusiastically. “It’s just now that we know that you’ve got some style of your own we can work with you.”

They smile at Charlotte as if this is all a very big compliment and Charlotte smiles back weakly. She tries to think back on the last couple of things she’s bought, the dress she’s wearing, the shoes. The dress she wore last Friday and the one she wore a week or so ago, the one with the green print that Justin had liked. She knows it’s childish but she has the strong urge to shove all of those items to the back of her closet and never wear them again. She never minded the fact that none of the other girls were nice to her, disliked her for the way she dressed, where she grew up, connections she didn’t have. In fact she takes a certain amount of pride in it, seeing every snub and sneer as a constant reminder that she’s not like them, not like-

“Amelia!” Lauren exclaims, her voice laced with surprise as their boss breezes in, shimmying out of her cashmere coat and hanging it on the rack. “I thought you had a meeting with Arthur after lunch.”

“I did,” Amelia says shortly, flicking her hair out of her eyes as she walks briskly past their desks and into her office. “Did you pick up my scarves?”

Lauren and Isabel freeze looking at each other wide eyed. The office is silent, Amelia’s question hanging in the air and the longer it goes unanswered the thicker the tension. The three girls look to one another, seeing if anyone knows to what Amelia is referring. A heavy weight drops in their stomachs when they realize that each one of them is as clueless as the next.

“Hello,” Amelia says, appearing in the doorway to her office, hands on her hips. “Have you all suddenly been struck dumb?”

“They weren’t ready,” Charlotte blurts, her eyes flicking to Lauren and Isabel who look only slightly relieved.

They hear her scoff and then the dull thud of her heels as she walks back to her door. “I thought you said Saks called this morning?” Amelia asks, her eyes narrowing on Lauren who stares back at her unblinkingly. “You said you were going to Saks over lunch did you not?”

“Yes,” Lauren says her voice slightly breathless.

“But they weren’t ready,” Isabel adds, her eyes flicking to Charlotte who cringes.

Amelia’s face puckers slightly, a look of calculated perplexity covering her features. “Why would they call here if they weren’t ready?” She hums, a dangerously casual sound as she turns to walk back into her office.

“You go,” Lauren hisses at Isabel who frowns shaking her head.

“Why don’t you go?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, turning to her computer and swirling her mouse to bring the screen to life. How hard is it to remember a phone call from barely two hours ago? Especially when they were in the store already. She could understand if they were out running errands elsewhere but they were in Saks for crissake. And why they couldn’t just take responsibility for their actions she’d never know.

“Because I have to answer the phones.”

“I can answer the phones.”

“Yeah and when you patch through the wrong person I get yelled at for letting you handle the phones no way-”

“Will you two quit bickering and one of you just freakin’ go?” Charlotte snaps before she can even stop herself and both girls’ heads turn at the venom in her voice. Charlotte ducks her head, taking a deep breath. Where had that come from? “Or call Kirsten. Have her pick them up,” she suggests a little more kindly and Lauren nods, reaching for the receiver and dialing quickly.

What a peculiar sensation, to be listened to and have her instructions followed without the roll of eyes or a quiet scoff of annoyance. Maybe she had been silly to think that not getting along with the other girls would set her apart from them in any kind of meaningful way. All it really did was cause unnecessary tension.

“Charlotte.”

Amelia’s voice wafts through her office door and Charlotte cringes, swallowing hard. “Yes?”

“Could you come here.”

It isn’t a question. Charlotte stands from her chair slowly, snatching a notepad and pen as her feet burning and she wishes she could just take off these stupid shoes. Each step is agony but she somehow manages to walk through Amelia’s office door without wincing, pushing the pain to the back of her mind as she takes the steps to stand in front of Amelia’s desk.

“Shut the door.”

Charlotte blinks slowly, hissing internally as she retraces her earlier steps, walking back to nudge Amelia’s office door closed and the room is silent. The quiet in Amelia’s office always sort of unnerves Charlotte, her being used to the steady hum of the computers or the ringing phone in the outer office, the soft warble of the radio at Justin’s. She grits her teeth forcing him from her mind. She doesn’t like to think about him when she’s in Amelia’s presence, fearing that her guilt would read so plainly across her face.

She turns slowly, taking long strides back to Amelia’s desk in order to reach it faster. She stands before her, hands clasped in front of her awkwardly, her heart thrumming quickly in her chest. She does her best not to fidget, watching Amelia who is immersed in the contents of her day planner. Charlotte suddenly wishes she’d taken the time to stop by the bathroom before returning to her desk because she has no clue what she looks like. She breaks out in a cold sweat when she remembers the way Justin’s fingers had tangled in her hair, combing back through it as her lips had worked over him slowly, how her eyes had watered when his release had caught her slightly off guard. She swallows hard, reaching up to smooth a hand over her hair discretely, then running the pad of her index finger under her eyes, hoping her makeup isn’t too horribly smudged.

“The girls asked you to go shopping with them?”

Charlotte blinks slowly, her brows drawing in confusion, watching the light glint off Amelia’s golden head as she flicks forward a few weeks in her planner. She looks up when Charlotte doesn’t answer right away and Charlotte can discern no emotion or intent from her features. So she merely nods, smiling awkwardly.

And then Amelia does something truly shocking. She smiles warmly back at her. “I’d suggested they invite you.” Her smile widens. “I knew you’d catch on eventually.”

“I – excuse me?” Charlotte asks, thoroughly confused and Amelia’s laugh tinkles.

“I mean even in those discount department store rags you showed potential,” Amelia says with a sigh tilting her head to the side and regarding Charlotte with a small sense of pride. “We just needed to get you in the right stores. Now look at you,” Amelia says her eyes roving from Charlotte’s head to her toes and she has the sickening sense that she’s being x-rayed. “Lafayette 148 isn’t the best but it fits you well,” Amelia says with an approving nod, her nose wrinkling as she takes in the wide belt at Charlotte’s waist. “And the belt is a nice touch. I suppose if you can’t lose those curves you might as well work with them.” Charlotte feels her cheeks heat, her fingers crushing the fingers of her other hand as she ducks her head. “And the shoes…” Amelia sighs. “Elizabeth and James. Not bad at all Charlotte.” She smiles at her again, a slow knowing smirk as if she’d known all along it’d come to this. “Not bad at all.”

“Amelia,” Charlotte says, chuckling uneasily caught somewhere between pride and sickening dread. “I really don’t know-”

“I know you don’t which is why I suggested Isabel and Lauren take you shopping,” Amelia cuts her off, looking quite pleased with herself. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Thank you Amelia,” Charlotte intones and Amelia replies with a gracious nod watching her for an uncomfortable beat before giving a wave of her hand.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you more about Paris,” Amelia says folding her hands on her desk and Charlotte nods poising her pen over her notepad, thankful that the conversation has turned to something a little less personal. “While I’m gone I want status reports four times a day and I want everything that requires my signature faxed to my hotel room. Isabel will see that I get it.” She narrows her eyes at her office door as if saying she better. “Forward all important emails to my blackberry. Lauren will be keeping track of it.”

“Kirsten is going to be with you?” Charlotte questions, her pen flying across the page, fighting the urge to raise an eyebrow. Kirsten is easily the most skittish of the girls, Amelia’s intimidation affecting her more severely than the rest it seemed, causing her to make stupid mistakes on an almost daily basis. But she is easily the most stylish, the daughter of some fashion mogul and Charlotte is convinced that the only reason she still has her job is because of her connections.

“Yes, God help me,” Amelia sighs reaching up to rub slow circles over her left temple. “I need you to check my reservations and make sure everything is in order before I leave next week. Have I gotten confirmation from Roberto Cavalli yet?”

“No, not yet,” she says and Amelia’s lips press into a thin line. “All of your other seats are confirmed though,” she adds quickly her mind still flailing slightly. “Front row next to the runway as requested.”

“I want you to call again,” Amelia says and Charlotte nods, scribbling it down. Amelia sighs, looking at Charlotte somewhat sadly. “If I would have known that you’d be showing some inkling of style I would have taken you instead of one of the other girls.” She rolls her eyes, “Although god knows what this place would be like when I got back. And it’s best you stay and keep an eye on Justin.”

Charlotte cringes “Right.”

“Also I wanted to discuss with you the details of my bridal shower on Saturday,” Amelia says with a sigh, flicking back in her planner. “Marletta and Suki are serving brunch at eleven but I want you there at nine to make sure that everything gets started on time-”

“Me?” Charlotte blurts as her pen stops, hovering over the page as she looks up at her boss bewildered. “You want me at your bridal shower?”

Amelia blinks slowly. “Well who else would I have there Charlotte?” she asks testily. “Lauren and Isabel are obviously incapable.” She gives an annoyed sigh. “They can’t remember a phone call from not even two hours ago. I mean it might be defensible if they were out to lunch or something but they were in Saks! Which makes it inexcusable.” She shakes her head.

It’s like a smack in the face, her thoughts coming from Amelia’s mouth and it sends Charlotte’s mind stuttering as that hot flash of astonishment rolls through her limbs. There must be some mistake. Maybe she’d heard Amelia say this before and it had simply sat and festered in her brain and in her annoyance earlier it had tumbled into her conscious mind out of irritation. There was no other explanation for her thoughts coming out of Amelia’s mouth almost word for word. That’s surely it. Isn’t it?

“Anyway, I’ll need to you stick around until after the shower to catalog my gifts for thank you cards,” Amelia says waving a hand dismissively.

Charlotte looks back at her blinking a few times to try and focus but her mind is running a mile a minute. She shouldn’t be this upset over this. It was a causal thought and she’d been annoyed. It wasn’t as if she’d said it out loud. She didn’t go around insulting the other girls just because she could. She’s not like that. Hell she’d never even snapped at them…well…until just now. She frowns. Something strange is happening here, something she doesn’t quite understand.

“That’s all I think.” Amelia says when she doesn’t respond and Charlotte nods, still distracted and confused turning to walk back to the outer offices.

She’s unfocused for the rest of the day, the tasks at hand seeming to slip from the forefront of her mind and that unsettled feeling creeps back in. Why were the other girls so cautious around her all of a sudden, their words chosen carefully as if she were going to snap at them for the smallest annoyance? Where was the goofy snapshot of her family at Fourth of July a few years back that she usually kept leaning against her computer screen? She only finds it when she worms her hand underneath the monitor, a thin layer of dust covering the back from where it had lain facedown for god knows how long.

The subway ride at the end of the day is a long one, affording her too much time to think, too much time to realize all the mistakes she’s been making. She’s noticing things, stepping back from herself to be an outsider looking in and what she sees horrifies her. Designer shoes and clothes, lunches and dinners in Manhattan, and the sickening realization that it had all become part of her routine, business as usual. Somewhere between running Amelia’s errands and doing her busywork Charlotte had done something she’d sworn she’d never do. She’s slowly becoming just like her.

She trudges up the six flights of stairs to her apartment and when she steps inside the place seems foreign, like she doesn’t belong here anymore. Here, with the furniture she’d inherited from her grandmother and the walls she’d painted herself after one too many late nights of watching HGTV and she found out that shit isn’t as easy they make it look on television. Here, where she used to clip coupons and dance in her underwear. Here, her favorite place to be before she started this thing with Justin and now her favorite place is wherever he is.

She sighs, closing her eyes as she drops her keys in the bowl on the table next to the door and shuts the door behind her closing herself inside. This place had seen a lot of her mistakes but she can’t help but thinking the ones she’s made over the past several weeks trumps them all. She feels angry, angry with herself and with the people who’ve changed her, kicking her shoes off and ripping her dress from her body, stubbornly pulling on her oldest sweats, her stained college t-shirt. She washes her face, scrubs it clean and ties her hair up before snatching her emergency stash of Hagaan Daz from the freezer.

Who had she become and more importantly how could she have not noticed until now? Looking back, of course hindsight being 20/20 as it always is, she can see the change had slowly been taking its effect, but she’d been too wrapped up in other things. Justin’s face, hands, body, float through her mind and she closes her eyes giving her head a quick shake to rid it of thoughts of him. What had she been thinking, flitting around New York City in Amelia’s shiny black town car going to the fancy department stores, eating at chic restaurants? Those things had never mattered to her before. They don’t really even matter now but the fact that she’s doing them, that she’s doing them without giving it much thought. She refuses to even let her mind wander to what she’s doing with Justin, an engaged man.

She’s changed, she’s not the doe eyed girl from the small coalmining town anymore. It was bound to happen eventually, she concedes to herself but she isn’t sure how she feels about what she’s become. She’s doing things, thinking things, saying things she never would have dreamed of doing or thinking or saying before. She’s been sucked into this world that she’s always kind of despised or at least thought was frivolous and anyone who fell into it was a sheep, or so desperately insecure that they had to adhere to this ridiculous social code to feel as if they belonged.

She wonders which category she has wound up in.

She feels lost and confused, desolate and sad and she does the one thing she knows to do when she feels this way. She grabs her cellphone and presses “send”. Scrolling farther and farther down her brow draws searching and searching and when she comes to the end she immediately feels guilty at not finding the number in her most recent calls. Had it really been that long?

Her mother picks up on the second ring, her voice ringing and happy as if she’d been laughing when she picked up the phone and Charlotte smiles despite herself, an ache tugging in her chest, homesickness causing her throat to close.

“Hey Mom,” she says after a second, looking down and hooking her heel on the edge of the couch cushion, fiddling with the frayed hem of her sweats.

“Charlotte!” her mother exclaims elated and Charlotte bites her lip hugging her knee tighter to her chest. “It’s been a long time, we were starting to worry.”

“I…I know. I’m sorry,” Charlotte says softly, shifting on the couch and biting her lip.

“I know you’re busy honey, I’m not complaining,” her mother responds and Charlotte smiles, her heart aching at her mother’s compassion even though she doesn’t feel she deserves it. “I was gonna call you soon anyway to see how our taxes are coming.”

Charlotte cringes feeling instantly worse, reaching up to rub her forehead. “Yeah I’m…I’m sorry I’m working on them,” she lies haltingly, pulling herself from the couch and zigzagging around her living room furniture to plop down at her kitchen table that serves more as a desk than anything else.

“There’s no rush honey,” her mother says and there’s a slight pause before she adds. “But if you could get it done soon we could use the refund.”

“Is everything okay?” Charlotte asks, feeling more and more guilty by the second, shifting through piles of bills and receipts, nudging her laptop out of the way before finally unearthing the manila envelope her mother hand sent her a month ago.

“Oh everything is fine,” her mother assures her. “We’re just looking to do some repairs around the house. You know the plumbing in the upstairs bath is about to bite it and your father has reached the limit of his expertise.” She giggles and Charlotte smiles at the sound.

“Hitting it with the wrench isn’t working anymore huh,” Charlotte teases, resting her elbows on the table, taking comfort in the simple act of speaking to her mother.

“Not this time, no,” her mother confesses and there’s a short pause. “Honey, are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Charlotte says, her eyes falling on the pile of papers in front of her, flicking through. Phone bill. Water. Electric. Credit Card. Her eyes widen.

“You sound sad,” her mother says softly but Charlotte barely hears her, her brows drawing as she takes in her last months charges. Had she really spent seven hundred dollars in Saks, a hundred dollars on lunch at Kai, three hundred dollars on underwear in Victoria Secret?

“I’m just…” she says shaking her head and rubbing her face hard. “I’m just stressed. Work you know.”

“Is that woman still being horrible?” her mother asks shortly and Charlotte grins despite herself. “You don’t put up with that Charlie Beth. You quit if you need to.”

“Mom, I can’t quit,” Charlotte says, Justin’s face fluttering through her thoughts against her will. “I’m making good money,” she offers, thinking thank god as she eyes her credit card balance.

“Your sanity is worth something,” her mother argues lightly and Charlotte smiles. “Do you have any idea of what you want to do?” she adds gently, her voice holding a forced casualness and Charlotte can feel herself bristle slightly at the question.

“Not really,” she offers meekly.

To tell the truth she hadn’t really thought about it in a long time. Before she got caught up in all of this mess she had worried constantly over what she should be doing. She doesn’t want to be an assistant forever; the mere thought of doing something so meaningless for the rest of her life makes her skin crawl. She went to college, she worked her ass off and she wants a job that reflects that. But she’d lost that somewhere along the line, caught up in her job and the stress of handling Amelia Domineck’s life which now included her fiancé… She cringes.

“Have you thought any more about your Masters?” her mother questions carefully and Charlotte shifts in her chair. “I was looking online and Stern offers this flexible MBA thingy. It says you can go on weekends!”

“Mom,” Charlotte says with a sigh. She hates having this conversation with her parents. They just don’t get it.

“Not finance,” her mother is quick to amend. “You could try accounting. That would go nicely with your BA,” she coaxes and Charlotte sighs. “I know finance was too competitive Charlotte. I understand what you were saying. I’m not ignoring you. But you always liked working with numbers and you’re so good at it.”

“Mom…” Charlotte sighs again shaking her head.

“Okay, okay I’ll quit harping on you,” her mother concedes. “I’m happy you called.”

“I’m…I’m happy I called too,” Charlotte says shifting and smiling a little. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” her mother tries again and Charlotte nods as if she can see her.

“Just…I’m just dealing with a lot,” she says, biting her lip and fiddling with a pen she found under a pile of papers.

She has the sudden urge to tell her about Justin, to ask her advice like she has with every other boy she’s ever cared about but she knows she never can. She already knows what that advice would be and she’s not ready to hear it yet.

“You work too hard honey,” her mother says, her voice pitying in that way that shows how much she cares and Charlotte smiles. A high-pitched beep sounds in the background and her mother gives a soft “oh” “That’s the roast. Baby, I gotta go,” she says and Charlotte sits up straighter in her chair.

“Oh okay,” she says, a little disappointed but when she looks at the pile of bills and tax forms in front of her she takes comfort that she at least won’t be bored for the rest of the evening. “Tell Dad I love him. And Paul. Not Isaac though.”

Her mother laughs. “Alright I will. Take care of yourself ya hear? Don’t go gettin’ sick and worryin’ your old mama to death.”

It’s Charlotte’s turn to laugh. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll try and call more often,” she says, vowing to call every week, twice a week even.

“You do that baby. We miss you round here,” her mother says.

Charlotte’s throat is thick. “I miss you guys too.”

“Okay I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Charlotte holds the phone to her ear until she hears the click and the line goes dead. She sets the phone down and stares at it, tears welling in her eyes, blurring her vision and she cries. She cries for what she’s lost and what she’s become. She cries because she misses her family and because she’s alone. She cries because she’s falling more and more for Justin everyday and nothing with that is ever going to change. She cries because she can’t pull away and she cries because she feels hopeless, feels like a failure.

After a few moments she pulls herself, wiping her eyes on her sweatshirt sleeve and sniffling a little. There is no use in crying, she thinks. She did all of this to herself. No one forced her to change, no one held a gun to her head and made her buy into this quasi-celebrity lifestyle she’s been leading over the past couple weeks. No one is forcing her to sleep with her boss’ fiancé. She cringes.

She needs something, something that isn’t tied to her job or to Justin, something that can be hers and hers alone. She contemplates quitting but writes that off almost immediately, for monetary reasons she tells herself even though something quiet inside her whispers liar. She heaves a heavy sigh, shifting through the mail in front of her listlessly, tossing aside junk mail and flyers, hoping that going through the clutter on her desk will help her go through the clutter of her life.

She pauses; fingering a heavy cardstock flyer, two people in their late twenties smiling at each other in front of what she knows to be the Stern building in Washington Square. She’s too late for spring semester signups. She already knows this but she needs to do something. Something that doesn’t involve running all over this damn city for Amelia or bending over in front of Justin, even though she’s not ready to give either of those things up just yet. She’s been asleep at the wheel for just a little too long and its time to do this, to make this change. For herself.