You're Serious
The idea had been a playful suggestion, a way to needle Carla just enough to make her bristle—just enough to see if she’d rise to the challenge. But Lisa hadn’t expected the way Carla had paused, the way her gaze had flickered, as if she were genuinely considering it. And that was how Lisa knew she had her.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of business as usual, but there was an undercurrent of something else now, something that buzzed between them like an unspoken dare. Lisa went about her tasks with an easy smirk, catching Carla’s eye whenever their paths crossed, watching for that tiny hesitation in her movements, the momentary flicker of uncertainty. It was rare to see Carla Connor caught off guard, and Lisa was thoroughly enjoying it.
When the workday finally wound down and the factory floor emptied, Lisa lingered, waiting. Carla had made a show of going about her routine as if nothing had changed, but Lisa could see the tension in the way she held herself, the way she hesitated before locking up her office. Finally, when the last of the workers had trickled out, Carla turned to her with a raised brow.
“Well?” she said, arms crossed. “You still here for a reason, or do you just enjoy wasting my time?”
Lisa smirked. “You agreed to a fitting.”
Carla scoffed, but Lisa caught the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I didn’t agree to anything.”
Lisa stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “Didn’t say no, either.”
Carla exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “You’re insufferable.”
Lisa tilted her head. “And yet, here we are.”
Carla muttered something under her breath before turning on her heel, leading the way to the back room where the samples were kept. Lisa followed, hands in her pockets, a lazy confidence in her stride. She knew she was pushing, but she also knew Carla wouldn’t have let this get this far if she wasn’t curious—if she didn’t, on some level, want to see where this would go.
Inside the room, Carla flicked on the light, illuminating racks of delicate lace and silk. Lisa whistled low under her breath. “Not bad.”
Carla shot her a look. “I’d hope so. It’s my business.”
Lisa stepped past her, fingers brushing along the hangers, letting the fabric slip between them. “And yet, you’re struggling to sell it.”
Carla exhaled sharply. “You just love getting under my skin, don’t you?”
Lisa turned, smirk deepening. “I think you like it.”
Carla’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she reached for a bottle of wine from a nearby shelf—leftover from some office function, no doubt—and grabbed two glasses. “If I’m going to entertain this ridiculous idea, I’m at least having a drink first.”
Lisa chuckled as Carla poured, the wine a deep red that caught the light just so. She took her glass, tapping it against Carla’s before taking a slow sip. “So, you gonna pick something, or do I get to choose?”
Carla gave her a flat look. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
Lisa shrugged. “Maybe.”
Carla exhaled, then set her glass down with just a little too much force. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Lisa leaned against the counter, watching as Carla sifted through the samples. She pretended not to notice the way Carla’s fingers hesitated over the deep red lace, the way she glanced toward Lisa as if measuring her next move. When she finally pulled it free, Lisa hummed in approval.
“Good choice.”
Carla rolled her eyes. “It’s just fabric.”
Lisa took another sip of wine, letting the moment stretch. “Go on then. Try it on.”
Carla’s eyes flashed. “You’re serious.”
Lisa grinned. “Deadly.”
Carla hesitated, then huffed, shaking her head. “Fine. But if this turns out to be a complete waste of time, you’re the one explaining to the board why we’re suddenly marketing lingerie with—” she gestured vaguely at Lisa “—this nonsense.”
Lisa smirked, watching as Carla disappeared behind the changing screen. She took another slow sip of wine, listening to the faint rustling of fabric, the quiet muttering as Carla shifted behind the divider. The anticipation hummed between them, thick in the air, stretching the silence into something charged.
When Carla finally stepped out, Lisa felt her breath catch.
The red lace clung to her, highlighting every sharp angle and subtle curve. It wasn’t just about the fit—it was the way Carla wore it, the way she held herself, chin high, gaze unwavering. She was stunning, and Lisa would have been lying if she said she wasn’t affected.
Carla crossed her arms. “Well?”
Lisa took a slow step closer, her voice dropping just slightly. “You look incredible.”
Carla scoffed, but Lisa caught the way her breath hitched. “You’re just saying that.”
Lisa shook her head, reaching out to trace a finger along the delicate lace at Carla’s wrist. “Not even a little.”
The air between them was electric now, charged with something dangerous and thrilling. Carla’s eyes flickered to Lisa’s lips, just for a second, before snapping back up. Lisa smirked.
“Looks like we found our model,” she murmured.
Carla exhaled, then downed the rest of her wine. “This was a terrible idea.”
Lisa’s smirk deepened. “And yet, here we are.”