by Haley Cass
Her words brought that heavy guilty feeling back, and Sutton remorsefully looked down in her lap for a moment, before tilting her head back to be able to look at Charlotte. “I’m sorry.”
These meetings had been important to her, and Sutton had known that. She just hadn’t known that she was that important, too.
“Don’t be sorry at all. However, you do have to make it up to me. You owe me dinner.” She nodded, as though it had been decided between them.
“I do?”
Charlotte pointed in the direction of her laptop, “Remember? You and I had . . . dinner plans, and you rushed out? A deal’s a deal, Sutton. Don’t make me a liar to your mother.”
“I – um, I could pencil you in somewhere. When do you want to have dinner?”
Charlotte adjusted her purse over her shoulder. “Tonight, if you’re not busy. I’ll be having meetings straight through the early evening; maybe we could get something after.”
“I – sure,” she wondered if she should be excited about it, considering the fact that she’d been in such turmoil all morning. But she was happy that things could be normal between them. “Do you want to come over to my apartment? I can make something.”
“I’d like that. I’m expecting a tour.”
Which reminded her that Charlotte had never been to her apartment. She was going to need to get home and clean. And go to the grocery store.
“Bye, darling,” Charlotte’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, before she swooped down and pressed a kiss to Sutton’s cheek.
It wasn’t uncharacteristic of Charlotte at all. But it was clearly the first time it had happened since Sutton had felt Charlotte’s lips on her own. Since she’d felt them trail down her body. Since she’d tasted them.
And she completely froze in her chair, hands tightening around her knees, as Charlotte stood back up. Sutton thought maybe she was a little more erratic than usual as she backed away, giving her trademark wave.
“Bye.”
Sutton fell back into her chair, blowing out a long breath. God. She truly needed to get a hold of herself. But how could she when Charlotte was doing things like delaying her meetings to come and see her and giving her those soft cheek kisses?
Then again, those – at least, the cheek kisses – were things Charlotte had always done. And just because Sutton knew for sure that her crush was hopeless, it didn’t mean it would just go away. It just meant that she had to deal with it, while also dealing with the fact that she knew, firsthand, what an absolute goddess Charlotte was in bed. And that she wasn’t going to get to experience it again. Even though she wanted to.
Which . . . was fine. It was totally okay. As long as Charlotte apparently didn’t think that Sutton shouldn’t ever show her face in public again, then she could get over it. Her lingering embarrassment would go away in time.
Mom – 3:04PM
Charlotte seemed… interesting. You know you
can talk to me about anything, don’t you?
Or, you know, maybe not.
Chapter 12
Charlotte leaned over the table in the room they’d taken over in City Hall for the day, her palm on the surface as she pored over the overview of the plans that had been determined today.
Though she’d had the general idea for her campaign over the last month – because never would it be said that Charlotte Thompson wasn’t a planner – and even though she’d been in contact several times with the handful of people that she had on her team, it couldn’t compare to what had happened today, with everyone in the same place and working in conjunction with each other.
It was like having a little taste of the future she’d envisioned for herself, and she couldn’t wait to have it all.
In addition to Dean, who doubled as her campaign manager, she had cultivated a team of people she’d met, worked with, and professionally trusted in the last seven years to help run the financial, strategic, public relations, and technological aspects of her team.
Then there was Aaron Lark, who had been a gift, of sorts, from her grandmother. As someone who had worked closely on all of her grandmother’s campaigns in the past two decades, Charlotte knew she could trust him in his official capacity as a strategist, as her grandmother called him.
Despite the fact that she’d been a little distracted in their earlier hours, given what had been going on with Sutton, Charlotte had spent the past few hours with what felt like electricity in her veins. By all accounts, she should have been exhausted; she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep last night after Sutton had left and then she’d worried over her not responding to phone calls or texts.
Not to mention the fact that her body had still been caught up in the rush of having Sutton in her bed, naked, coming for her. So, it had felt like the blink of an eye before she’d had to get up and get ready for her day of meetings.
And all of the planning and strategizing they’d accomplished had only made her buzz with anticipation, sending a thrill through her that was unique to this aspect to her life. It was in times like this that she knew this was her sense of purpose. That all of her careful plans and control were worth it.
Shaking her hair back, she scowled at the documentation of her meeting with Aaron. Though his official title was strategist, Charlotte knew that his job also pertained to matters that got hands a little dirty. It was during her time with him earlier that he’d discussed the fact that David Verbeck had been sticking his sticky little fingers into her history and into all relevant files on her. Not that he would find anything, Charlotte had assured Aaron.
Her professional record was spotless; Naomi and Verbeck could search in every nook and cranny that they could find, and they would still not be able to find anything on her. Charlotte had been extremely careful about every step she’d taken, academically, societally, and politically.
But it was simply the principle of the matter. Naomi and Verbeck together, despite the fact that they wouldn’t be able to find any dirt on her, was enough to grate on anyone’s nerves.
“Knock, knock,” Dean’s voice cut into her thoughts, and Charlotte looked up to see him pushing the door open. He’d left almost a half hour ago, along with everyone else, as shown by how he’d clearly already gone back to his office and packed up to leave as he was now standing there with his jacket buttoned up and ready. He nodded his head toward the laptop. “What are you looking at?”
She forced away her scowl. “Just the review from what Aaron said.”
Besides, she couldn’t be too upset about it. Not when she had never been more sure in her life that all she wanted for her future was well within her grasp. Naomi Young might want to fight dirty, but if she did, Charlotte was no woman she could easily take down.
“Ah.” He lifted his eyebrows playfully as he stepped into the room. “The questions about your personal life?”
Slowly, she closed the laptop – the plans weren’t going to change and they would be there for her to review all she wanted later – as she rolled her eyes, this time in actual exasperation.
“No.”
After the brief discussion and assurance that her professional life was spot-free, Aaron hadn’t even blinked before he’d asked about what Naomi would be able to find out about her personal life.
Which had given Charlotte momentary pause. Only just a moment, before she’d informed him, shortly, that no, there was also nothing that would be found on her personal life. No, she’d never had any affairs. No, she’d never even had a relationship. No, there would be no angry exes of any sort coming out of the woodwork and wanting to talk to her opposition.
No, she’d never broken someone’s heart. No, she’d certainly never had hers broken. No, she’d never engaged in any rendezvous that resulted in any sort of lasting consequences. There was a reason she had always been upfront about her intentions and clear about discretion.
It was the fact that he was in the business of digging up dirt – as well as the fact that he was a longtime close employee who had h
er grandmother’s trust – that Charlotte knew Aaron was also commenting on her sexual preferences.
But she’d been firm in her confidence that there was nothing to be found. Being a lesbian was no crime, of course, but Charlotte was under no delusions about what repercussions it would have for her future. About how her sexuality would make her political life and plans of success that much more difficult and she was already well aware that she would be fighting uphill battles in the case of her age and gender; there was no need to bring anything else into the mix.
Especially something that had such little bearing on her life as it did.
Dean grinned in the face of her derision about the questioning line of her personal life before he helped her pack up the remainder of her belongings and asked, “Care to join me for dinner? Caleb is working the night shift; we can surprise him with food and catch him up on all of your plans.”
“As appealing as that is, I have plans,” she informed him, before she paused to wonder if she actually did, indeed, still have plans.
When she’d returned for her afternoon meetings, she’d put her phone on silent and tucked it away. Finally able to focus clearly now that there were no niggling thoughts in the back of her mind.
She’d been so distracted this morning, despite being so in her element, because she hadn’t known exactly how much her friendship with Sutton meant to her until she was worried about losing it.
Now, she knew that while things had been smoothed over somewhat, Sutton – sweet Sutton, who was clearly internalizing and blaming herself for last night – was still a little shaken and upset about having sex with her. Charlotte had purposefully pushed to have dinner together tonight in order to rid them of whatever awkwardness might be lingering.
As she pulled out her phone, she saw that she had a few messages from the woman on her mind. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told Dean with confidence that she had plans, as she was half-sure that Sutton was going to cancel. She’d thought Sutton might do so once she had the time to actually think about the two of them spending time together.
Sutton – 5:46PM
You said that you were working past dinner
time, but not when, so I’ll just cook soon and
have it ready for when you’re done.
Sutton – 5:53PM
Not that there’s any rush or anything, obviously.
I mean, your meetings are important.
Sutton – 5:55PM
Plus you already took time out of them to see me
earlier.
Sutton – 6:31PM
So, just, you know, let me know whenever you’re
on your way and I’ll make sure dinner is warm
when you’re here.
Charlotte couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head slightly. Because she would take this awkward-rambling Sutton over an avoidant Sutton any day. Every day.
Charlotte – 7:47PM
I’m leaving work shortly, and very much
looking forward to dinner.
“Plans?” Dean questioned as he handed her purse to her from where it was perched on the chair next to him. Open curiosity was written all over his face.
She arranged her purse over her shoulder before reaching for her satchel – the designer bag Dean himself had given her last Christmas. Her voice was cool and calm in response, “I’m going to Sutton’s for dinner, if you must know.”
After Sutton had left, she’d given both her brother and Dean a piece of her mind. Because even if they hadn’t caused Sutton to panic, it was still the world’s worst timing.
“Oh, plans, with Sutton. And we were just talking about your personal life, weren’t we?”
Charlotte gave him a look, one that meant no nonsense. Because if this was about her typical sex life, she would have laughed with him, but things with Sutton were still too tentative.
“I’m still not going to talk to you about what happened.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “If you recall, it was your brother who wanted to know all of the details. While I’m surprised and vaguely interested, I’m still having trouble connecting the Sutton Spencer in my mind to the bisexual woman who you have apparently now slept with. But I mean… talk about what is going on in your personal life.”
Charlotte couldn’t quite believe that she’d slept with Sutton, either. Well, she could believe it, as the memory was quite vivid. Quickly, she blinked away the memories of Sutton under her, because that certainly was not going to help her get their friendship back on track.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel a stone quickly sink in her stomach as she corrected, “Don’t say personal life like that.” The way Aaron had said it. “It’s not like there is something sordid going on between Sutton and myself.”
They were friends. Who had sex once. And were trying to breach a fallout from that.
“I didn’t say there was anything sordid happening. I am saying that you had sex with her last night, went to see her over an extended lunch break, and are now apparently going to have dinner at her place.” The speculative look he was giving her made an uncomfortable shiver work up her spine.
“We aren’t having sex again. Sutton could hardly look me in the eye earlier as it is. This is just… dinner. With actual food,” she added on, feeling it was necessary.
He held the exit door open for her and they walked out onto the front steps that were illuminated by the streetlights.
After a few moments, he relented, “Okay, while I do believe you aren’t having sex again, because that’s not quite your style, this is still new territory for you. Going to have dinner with the woman you slept with last night instead of, you know, having sex and planning on never seeing her again.”
She shrugged. Yes, it was new, but, “It’s not as though this is a date, Dean. Which means that anything that had happened beyond the realm of a . . . typical friendship, doesn’t qualify into any sort of category that Aaron need be concerned about.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him, daring him to disagree with her on the matter.
He didn’t and quirked his lips up in a small, wistful smile. “I was just saying. I suppose I’ll go have dinner with Caleb by myself.”
“Oh, what a hardship,” she teased, backing up a few steps. “Thank you for today.”
The Lyft ride to Sutton’s was quick, and she spent it thinking about what Dean had implied. About her relationship with Sutton.
Charlotte was great at setting goals and attaining them.
Her current goal was simple: make Sutton relax into her typical self. As she’d told her earlier, their friendship could be as simple as they wanted it to be. All Charlotte had to do was take that direction, and she was positive that Sutton would follow suit.
Taking on a challenge she’d never faced before was always something she looked forward to and this wasn’t so terribly different. It was a responsibility Charlotte had never had to shoulder before – trying to calm her partner after sex so they could maintain a relationship.
It was, in fact, the opposite of what she’d done in the past.
With that in mind, a different sort of thrill than the one that had thrummed inside her earlier was coursing through her as she walked down the hallway to Sutton’s apartment. This determination combined with the gentle excitement she’d come to associate with hanging out with Sutton, as well as the anticipation that she knew was caused by her attraction. That much was unavoidable after last night, but she figured that it would fade to the background again in due time.
Her gaze slid over the warmly painted hallway, taking in the small personal touches that the apartment doors had on them. Though not in her own Tribeca neighborhood, Sutton’s apartment building in Greenwich Village was secure, neat, and well-maintained. Not that she really expected anything less; Sutton was the daughter of affluent, respectable parents who were undoubtedly doting on their eldest daughter.
She’d been able to see it in the few interactions she’d seen between Jack Spencer and Sut
ton firsthand, and even in the brief exchange she’d unknowingly stepped into earlier between Sutton and her mother.
As she felt that new buzz shoot through her, she approached Sutton and Regan’s door, taking in a deep breath. Before she knocked, she took in their entry with interest. They had a cheerful welcome mat as well as a small, bright yellow fabric bow up in the right-hand corner of the doorframe.
She’d walked Sutton to her apartment building several times in the past weeks, but it was always at the end of getting coffee or finishing taking a walk, and she’d never actually come inside. It just made sense to spend time at her apartment, as Sutton shared hers with Regan.
Just as she was about to knock, the door was quickly pulled open. Had Charlotte’s reflexes not been as disciplined as they were, she would have jumped and possibly squeaked from surprise.
As it was, her eyes widened as her heart thumped in her chest. And rather than come face-to-face with Sutton, she found herself looking at Regan’s scowling face.
Regan, who she’d met on several occasions, and who had always have a bright, jovial, almost scarily over-excited gleam in her eyes. Right now, however, those eyes were staring at her, narrowed, and clearly unhappy.
For all of Charlotte’s ideas for how she and Sutton could slip back into their friendship, she’d failed to take Regan into account. It had been her own foolish miscalculation, because of course Regan knew about last night.
Despite the displeasure at the unforeseen potential complication of the evening, because Charlotte had never before had to deal with the protective friend before, she smiled as pleasantly as she could in the face of clear distrust.
“Regan, it’s nice to see you.”
She wondered how difficult Regan would make this when it became clear after several beats of silence that she wasn’t going to get a congenial response. Then again, it wasn’t as though Charlotte thought of Regan as the type to put on a façade, even for the sake of politeness.
“Charlotte. How stunning.”
Her intonation of the descriptor suggested the very opposite of anything good, and Charlotte grimaced.
