<div class="floatleft">(http://i1289.photobucket.com/albums/b502/ehlamjanx/carter2_zps845c5db9.jpg)</div><strong>Character name</strong>: Carter Sagle<br/><strong>Who:</strong>Victoria "Vicky"Tucker<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Entry<br/><strong>When: </strong>June 13, late evening<br/><strong>Warning:</strong>None<br/><hr/>e made himself as busy as he could for the balance of Friday, as afternoon slipped by into evening.  He made a trip to the kitchen after realizing that guest after guest had come through, and he had only greeted one.  He made himself a plate of his own shepherd's pie, there was plenty left, then spent some time getting the kitchen into order.   He looked for Vicky to happen by any moment as he tended to placing leftovers neatly in the fridge and double checking things were available for guests should anyone come looking for a snack.  He made sure the pre-printed signs were in plain view so that guests could help themselves.<br/><br/>He made his way back to the studio, passing by the envelopes, there was only one remaining, his own.  A jolt of his own nerves shot through his body as he realized that by now, she likely knew.  It was one final indication that this die had been cast.  Not finding her in the studio meant one last possible likely place that she could be.<em>Bedroom #1</em>.  Butterflies fluttered about his stomach as he remembered back through days and nights sharing long conversations.  He smiled, recalling how pretty she'd look with her sweetly innocent face, her brown eyes were always so full of hope, always so warm and trusting.  He'd catch himself, usually, before gazing too long or be too admiring, but he couldn't deny those moments existed.  She made it easy enough, though, she never let a situation grow awkward, and he maintained his composure as well, and it helped to make their living arrangement seem not strange at all.  She was just too good of a friend, and had helped him through so much.  Now that she was his boss, it added one more layer to the complexion of their relationship.  In ways, she was like a sister or a friend, and there was no escaping the reality that she was his best friends wife.<br/><br/>Only when the whole twist to the B&B was concocted did he really start to see her show the side of her that needed, or wanted, male companionship.  At first, it was a strange notion to discuss, but fueled along by a rare breaking of his own rules and sharing a glass of wine, or three, that night he saw her speak of her hidden desires.  When she described the kinds of things she hoped for, in another man, that he could see himself in what she wished for.  He didn't dare go there, then, though he wanted to when he could see her in that light.<em>Why not me?</em>he found himself wishing he could ask when this other side of her surfaced.  He had gone out of his way to repay her for every kindness she ever offered him.  In a way, it was gratitude, in another, it was because Vicky was just amazing to him, in every way.  Despite his wish to be seen<em>that way</em>he knew damn well that Roman was why not.  Still, the idea that mourning was past, that healing had begun, it was awkward to imagine sweet Vicky exploring her new beginnings with any man.  Let alone the fact that they realized they<em>both</em>shared some unspoken interest in the crazy idea of exploring BDSM evenings with random partners.<br/><br/>His thoughts circled though his mind, the silent rehearsal of his speech had played like an endless loop of conviction of thought, then<em>erase, erase, erase</em>and a reset.<em>"Vicky, I've always..."</em>no...<em>"Vicky, you and I have..."</em>.  He started doing a few push-ups, then pumping the dumbbells before showering.  It wouldn't hurt to be a little bit pumped up before hand, the best impression possible.  He stopped the silent speech rehearsal, the time had come, and he had nothing.  A very thorough shower, a shave, brushing of teeth, meticulous care to details, and there was nothing left to do, but to walk through the house into bedroom #1.  He opted for a pair of black silk boxers, then donned his plush black robe (http://rs1289.pbsrc.com/albums/b502/ehlamjanx/th_zps0f2b6429.jpg~320x480).<br/><br/>In his pocket, he had nothing but the keycard to Roman and Vicky's, or rather, his assigned room.<br/><br/>He slid the card, heard the familiar click, then steeled himself with confidence.  Entering the room, he put on his biggest and brightest smile.  At the worst, he knew he could get Vicky laughing if she was upset with him.<br/><br/>His eyes grew wide as he made his entry.  She was sitting in the chair, dressed neatly in her white satin robe, cinched tight at the waist.  She looked gorgeous in the simple robe, her body just beneath the flowing surface was petite and sexy, though the way she sat, the way the robe was closed, she looked more like she was ready for a discussion than a surprise encounter with a stranger.  He spied his own dossier in her lap.  His smile maintained a crooked pleasantness and he raised his eyebrows, "Suprise!" he said playfully.  He extended his hands out as if to demonstrate,<em>hey, it's me!</em>in a fun mannerism.  His expression was cautious, though far from sheepish.   His heart was thumping in his chest, though he maintained his full conviction that this would be the moment.  His eyes sought to meet hers, and he'd look intently and intensely to her.  The quirky half smile would vanish and he'd look at her, for once, with a deep hope, that this move could be alright.