Chapter 1
“It’s true,” he continued, “that both you and paintings are layered.”
― Steve Martin, An Object of Beauty
“No!” Peggy said forcefully into her phone as she walked through her building’s lobby, past the mailboxes, finally jabbing at the up button for the elevator. “Absolutely no way that is happening on my watch,” she continued, tapping her foot impatiently for the elevator.
“Is Brandt still on the line? Transfer me.” Peggy spotted someone standing near her out of the periphery but before she looked over, she heard a voice coming through the line drawing her attention anew. “Ah, yes. Senator Brandt. My team seems to be under the impression that you will not be honoring your agreement in regards to the case at hand.”
The elevator chimed and Peggy stepped into it the second the doors opened. She automatically hit the button for the top floor as she listened to Brandt ramble on and on over his excuses, rolling her eyes to herself as she half-listened to his platitudes, studying her nails instead.
She was irritated, hungry and her headache was growing with every added second she had to deal with the moronic civil servants who acted like entitled children giving her team a run-around.
“Yes, I understand that you are on a number of committees. But seeing as it is your job, your duty— Excuse me, I’m quite sure my name is Ms. Carter and not Sugar, or Darling. Listen Senator, you will not bully me into silence or letting you shirk your patriotic duty. You made a vow to your constituents and to the tax-payers of this country. Given my understanding that you are a man of your word, I will therefore consider the matter settled and have my team await your call tomorrow. Lovely, I will have Rose look forward to receiving your call.”
Peggy rolled her eyes again and sighed loudly as the mouthy Senator hung up. “Wanker,” she muttered while she waited for Rose to pick up the line again, seeming to hear someone chuckle behind her. She tilted her head to check but then before she could get a good look, she heard her name being called.
“Ah Rose, there you are. Brandt will call you with the details in the morning. Of course I did. You know I don’t care for politicians’ attitude for being willy-nilly about choosing their responsibilities. He chose this profession. Lobbied for it. Therefore someone needs to hold him to his duties.”
“No I don’t care what he thinks of me as long as the mission is accomplished,” she told Rose as she stepped off the elevator, only now realizing that someone had ridden the elevator with her all the way to the top floor. A man with light colored hair. Which was strange since only her apartment was on the top floor… “Never you mind, Rose. It doesn’t matter. I know my value and anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”
She was so distracted over the latest bump in her latest assignment, and smoothing things over with her team back at headquarters, that she had missed the tools lining the hallway to her doorway and the men in hardhats and masks milling about until she was in the middle of her foyer.
“What in the –” She gasped at the sight of her loft filled with burly men and her furniture covered in plastic sheets, the image beyond comprehension. “Rose, I'm going to have to call you back."
She stood there helplessly as she watched some guy scraping the paint off her walls, another measuring them for some reason, and another already drilling holes.
"Uh, excuse me," she called out. "What in the bloody hell are you doing in my house?"
One of the men, a stout-man with a full tool-belt looks over at her.
"The remodel," he said.
“Remodel? What remodel? Who said anything about a—” Peggy cursed as realization dawned on her. "Stark," she said through gritted teeth.
"Yes ma'am. Are you the tenant? Mr. Stark didn't give you notice that we were starting the work today?"
Howard Bloody Stark didn't tell me at all, Peggy thought.
"Yes, he failed to mention it. Excuse me a moment," Peggy said, moving back into the hallway to call Howard.
"Yeah what do you want? Make it snappy, I'm working on the perfect Bloody Mary," Howard said a moment later.
"Oh I apologize for breaking you away from such important work," she said sarcastically. "What in the bloody hell are you doing to my living space Howard?!"
"Peggy?"
"Of course it's me! Why is there a group of strange men in my apartment?"
"Oh the remodel."
"If I hear that one more time," she said, exasperated. "What remodel? I don't need a remodel, Howard. What I need is a quiet place to come to after my stressful job."
“Definitely needs more vodka.” She could hear Stark audibly drinking what was probably his Bloody Mary on the line. "Relax Peg. I needed a project. And that loft has never quite lived up to the Howard Stark standards. Frankly it’s a real estate embarrassment."
Peggy made a point of looking around the elegant hallway leading to the loft, plush carpeting, elegant light fixtures bracketing large paintings, and large vases of fresh flowers. Granted it was now littered with drills, buckets and tool boxes, it was still one of the most lavish hallways she had ever encountered.
“You’re mad. Or drunk. And all well before noon.”
“Definitely not drunk. This is only my second attempt at refining my recipe. Probably best if I had some Tabasco. You know how I like it spicy.”
Peggy huffed. “And how long is this remodel supposed to take?”
"Good question Peg. Couple weeks. You know construction crews, always giving you a projected finish date and then adding a week on top of it. Sometimes twice."
"Howard!" she hissed, trying to calm herself before she unloaded on him in full view of the workers. "Weeks? What the hell am I supposed to do? I cannot work from home like this. Hell how am I supposed to do anything?"
"Relax. They're only supposed to work while you're at work."
"I don't exactly keep regular hours Howard," she seethed.
"Explains why you're there right now."
"Howard!"
"Then you'll spend a few days at a hotel. You can use my suite at the Plaza. Oh that’s perfect! They've got high tea there. You'll feel right at home."
"No! I want to come home to my own bed Howard. Call the guy in charge and you tell him you will pay him whatever he needs to get this done as soon as bloody possible."
"Peg-"
"I mean it Stark. Don't make me come over there and hurt you."
"Alright, alright woman. Jesus, you'd think you'd thank me for trying to pimp your place up."
"Now!" she growled, hanging up on him.
Peggy took a moment to take a deep breath.
Howard Stark will be the death of me, she thought.
She needed some coffee and a nap but it looked like she would have to wait on the latter. There's no chance she'd fall asleep in all the racket.
By the time she made it back inside her apartment, the guy with the tool belt she met earlier was on the phone.
Good, Peggy thought, looking around her usually, while not pristine but tidy and empty loft, now teeming with bulky guys and debris.
"Uh, Ms. Carter?" the guy called, just as Peggy noticed a blond man carrying large buckets into the room, nodding at her in a wordless polite greeting. He looked familiar, oddly enough. And for some reason she found herself watching him as he set down the buckets and started walking back toward the hallway.
"Yes," she answered slowly, tearing her eyes away from the blond. "It's Peggy actually."
"Right. Marcus Miller,” he held out his hand, “I’m the general contractor. Stark told me you wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible. I'm going to make sure my guys here make this as quick and unintrusive as possible. We'll start with the bedroom, get it finished for you first so you can sleep there."
"Excellent. I appreciate that."
"That being said, you'll want to go pack your bag."
"My what?"
"Bad idea to stay in such a poorly ventilated room while we're working on it."
"What… Well where am I supposed to go?"
The guy looked at her with confusion. "Stark said he had arrangements made for you for the next two days."
Peggy opened her mouth in retort just as her phone started to ring. Edwin Jarvis it read.
“Tell Howard I'm going to kill him,” she said in greeting.
"Duly noted Ms. Carter. I am to pick you up in twenty minutes.”
“Mr. Jarvis, have you any idea why Howard has decided to remodel my apartment out of the blue?”
She listened to Jarvis make a noncommittal sound before sighing. “As you may have heard, Arlene French broke things off with Mr. Stark, quite publicly in fact, and I dare say he’s taking it quite hard.”
Peggy rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. “So because Howard’s latest fling didn’t last more than a nanosecond, he’s taking it out on me?”
“Well,” Jarvis started, full of the sympathy she had expected of Howard’s butler, “he needs a project to immerse himself in as a distraction from other more self-destructive behavior. And quite frankly Ms. Carter, none of his recent tinkering has proven fruitful.”
Peggy sighed, one hand on her hip as she mentally cursed the absurdity of Howard Stark’s stunted playboy persona pulling her out of her home.
“Mr. Stark said you turned down his offer of the Plaza, so I think you'll find the Stark Residence's guest wing a perfect place to spend two nights, as you are already familiar with the location."
"Fine," Peggy snapped. "See you in twenty Mr. Jarvis."
Peggy cursed again, turned on her heel and headed into her bedroom. She was in the middle of packing up her bag when she heard a knock at the door.
"Yes?" she called distractedly.
The door cracked open and she saw the blond man she had noticed earlier. He had extremely long lashes framing his brilliantly blue eyes.
"Excuse me," he started. "Is it okay if I come in? Boss said we were painting this room first so I'm supposed to bring the paint in."
She was surprised by his soft voice and manners. "Yes, of course. Come in."
He was holding two paint cans and a tray and rollers under his arm, all seemingly with ease, setting them down near the doorway. He did seem to be very muscular. Peggy watched as he arranged the supplies to his liking and took a few paint brushes out of the back pockets of his blue jeans.
He was quite young, she noticed, clean shaved, his hair neatly parted. He seemed to have a broad build, but something about it didn’t scream construction worker. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, those gentle features and the muscular build. He was unfairly handsome. And there was something in his face that drew her attention, especially when he looked up only to meet her gaze and then proceeded to quickly blush and look away. It was only when she returned her attention to her task that she realized she was holding her underthings in her hand. Black. Lacy. Her hands must have had a mind of their own because she could have sworn she had just been sorting through her very plain and uninteresting sleep shirts.
She found herself fishing for something to say to him as he avoided her gaze and returned to the painting supplies.
"You don't happen to know if I should be worried about outlandish paint colors on my walls, do you?" she asked.
He turned back toward her and picked up one of the cans. "Casa Blanca," he read.
"You're kidding. Who names these? Humphrey Bogart?"
The man chuckled. She liked the sound of it, the way his eyed crinkled in amusement. Suddenly, Peggy realized that this was the person that had ridden the elevator with her. She recognized the chuckle. For some reason this made him even more intriguing.
"And the other?"
"Accent color," he noted before picking up the other can. "Adriatic Sea."
"Hmm... Doesn't quite add up," she said.
He grinned. "I’ll make sure it looks great."
She had a mind to explain her reference to the famous movie from the forties, but thought better of it. It was no surprise that most people didn’t know all the same old classic Hollywood films she preferred.
"Rogers!" she heard someone call through the apartment. The blond man turned and called back, saying that he'd be right there.
"I promise to make the paint job look perfect ma'am," he said echoing his last assurance.
Peggy sighed playfully. "Well if Stark must paint, I suppose it'll do."
Rogers shrugged with a half-smile. "At least this way you'll always have Paris."
She grinned appreciatively at this unexpected comment, biting her lip and eyes following him as he walked away.