Guilty as Sin ch 6 (Patreon)

I loved seeing people's reactions to the end of chapter 5! It was such a fun little twist to write - I mean, we have to get this ball rolling (at least a little bit, right?)

... let's roll into chapter 6 -

---------------- Guilty as Sin ----------------

Chapter Six

Charlotte frowned down at her desk in her office, swamped with work. She dropped her neck back, circling it around to attempt to relieve some of the tension that had built up in her shoulders.

God, so much tension. Which was odd, because it wasn’t like she had that much on her plate; not any more than her new usual, anyway.

But she couldn’t deny that she felt it – this constant, thrumming, demand for a release. It felt more intense right now than it used to in the past, though.

Again, which made no sense, because… she flicked her gaze from her computer screen to glance over her desk.

Which was absolutely pristine. Honestly, the polished wood of it sparkled from the sunlight that streamed in through the window behind her. Not even a speck of dust. Gone were the days when papers and other bureaucratic bullshit littered all over her workspace.

In fact, her office had never looked better.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure any place she’d ever personally maintained had ever looked better. Even her home. Her home was always neat and tidy, but it was largely due to the fact that Charlotte didn’t spend much time there. She didn’t put much time or energy into decorating, most of the space was fairly impersonal save for a few photographs in her bedroom. She’d had a few pieces of art that she’d purchased hung up, some that had been gifted to her.

But her work space? In the last month, it had turned into something… warm.

Coming to the office was never a hardship for Charlotte, but it was almost a comfort, now. With her degrees, the photograph of her grandmother, and a lovely painting that had mysteriously appeared – but complemented everything else in her office immaculately – hung on the walls, and the fresh, pleasant scent that permeated these four walls…

She inhaled deeply. Yes, it was lovely.

It smelled clean, sure. But it was more than that.

There was something deliciously pleasant about Sutton’s perfume that faintly stayed with her whenever Charlotte walked by her desk on the way to her own office. Not in a cloying way or even in an overpowering, too much way.

It was subtle, but it lingered in the best way possible.

Settling into Charlotte, in every breath she took in. Especially after this past Monday, when she’d gone through her emails with Sutton. When she’d invited Sutton to actually sit in her office, next to her, behind her desk.

As if summoned by her thoughts, she heard a quiet but firm tapping of knuckles against her office door. Tap, tap… tap – two quick, one hesitant, Sutton’s calling card, Charlotte had come to learn. It was like Sutton knew she had something to discuss with Charlotte, knew that it was well within her rights to ask Charlotte for a minute of her time, but then wondered if she was interrupting something.

Glancing up from her screen again, she fixed her gaze on the closed door. “Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sutton said as she opened the door.

Just enough to slip in, before she quickly shut it behind herself.

Well, that was odd.

Curiously, Charlotte leaned back in her chair, eyeing Sutton as she frowned. “Is everything all right?”

Sutton’s cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes were so intent, so bright, as she stared back at Charlotte. She dug her teeth into her bottom lip, something she did often – Charlotte couldn’t help but notice because it was damningly distracting.

Her long red hair was down and loose over her shoulders, which was, again, odd.

Sutton wore a variety of hairstyles over the last month. A long braid down her back or pulled over her shoulder seemed to be something she favored. But she’d also wear a high ponytail, sometimes a sleek twist. If her hair was ever down, it was styled in some half-up, pulled back way. She was always very office-ready. Charlotte greatly appreciated it. Even though Sutton was fresh out of college, even though this was technically her first real job, she appointed herself as a professional adult.

But, admittedly, she also appreciated Sutton’s hair down like this. There was nothing inherently unprofessional about it, not really. It just…

It was so stunning.

Sutton wore one of her black skirts that cut off just about her knees – wait. Okay, no, this was also different than her usual. Much like how she styled her hair, Sutton’s clothing choices were always – always. – office appropriate.

But this skirt wasn’t one of the several she’d worn that brushed right at the top of her knees. No, this one cut off several inches higher.

Huh.

Blinking herself out of staring, Charlotte felt an answering… awareness starting right in the pit of her stomach.

Especially as she drew her gaze upward and found that the buttoned up blouse Sutton wore had several buttons undone. Several buttons she typically did not wear undone.

Clenching her jaw against the desire that worked through her, Charlotte determinedly moved her eyes up to hold Sutton’s, and held there. Resolutely not shifting down again.

“Sutton,” she repeated, her voice low and firm, as she pressed, “Is everything all right? What’s going on?”

Sutton walked farther into her office. “I need to know if you find my performance satisfactory.”

Charlotte’s lips tugged into a confused frown as she arched an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t we just discuss this the other day? You know I do.”

Sutton slowly flicked her tongue out, sliding it over her bottom lip. Charlotte’s resolve to only look into her eyes was broken as she was ensnared by the movement.

And Sutton continued to walk toward her. Rather than come to a stop on the other side of Charlotte’s desk, she bypassed that and walked around it. Following the same path she’d taken earlier in the week, when going over Charlotte’s email.

Charlotte’s heart pounded harder in her chest, as she turned her chair slightly to angle a look up at Sutton. Her grip tightened slightly on the arms of her chair, but she kept her cool.

“We did,” Sutton murmured, that sweet voice dipping an octave lower.

“Then–”

Anything Charlotte could have possibly thought to say immediately fled her mind. Gone. Disappeared. Poof.

Because Sutton dropped to her knees, her chest brushing against Charlotte’s legs.

Her breath caught in her throat, as she clamped her legs tightly together. She was instantly made aware of how her clit was already throbbing.

What the fuck.

Her breath shuddered out of her. “Sutton, what are you doing?” She whispered, trying to keep her voice as even – and quiet – as possible. “You can’t – I don’t – this is wildly, unbelievably inappropriate.”

Sutton shook her head back, that flame-red hair catching in the sunlight, making it positively come to life.

Mesmerizing.

She reached up and placed her hands – so soft and warm – on Charlotte’s thighs. Her bare thighs, and since when were her thighs bare? She didn’t wear anything to work that was nearly this revealing.

“I want you to use me, Charlotte,” Sutton murmured, her voice rasping on the words. “Don’t you remember?”

Had Charlotte ever had a sip of water in her life? Her throat didn’t feel like it.

“I – not like this,” she managed, shaking her head.

Desperation worked through her, but she wasn’t sure what the desperation was rooted in. Was it the desperation of wanting this or wanting to pull herself away? Both?

“It’s okay,” Sutton assured her, sliding her hands up Charlotte’s thighs.

The touch felt like heaven, in spite of the fact that Charlotte knew it was actually the road to hell.

“It’s… not,” she barely was able to whisper.

“No one will know,” Sutton whispered, her hot breath washing over Charlotte’s inner-thighs.

Her inner thighs, because she’d opened her legs. When did she do that?

But she had, because Sutton’s hands slid lower, not quite touching her, but so close.

And… Charlotte threw a helpless look at her closed office door. This wasn’t okay. She knew that. This was not okay. It wasn’t right.

Then she felt Sutton’s plush, soft lips press against her inner-thigh, following the path of her hands, and a weak, broken moan worked out of Charlotte’s throat as she dropped her head back against her chair.

“Use me,” Sutton echoed again, keeping her lips pressed against Charlotte.

Her tongue brushed over Charlotte’s skin, and she groaned again. She had no resolve left. None whatsoever. One of her hands stayed gripping the arm of the chair as she slid the other into Sutton’s hair, pulling her more firmly against her, and –

Charlotte woke with a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest and her clit pounding between her legs.

“Jesus,” she swore under her breath, staring up at her ceiling.

The rays of morning light were starting to shine through her shades, as she’d apparently passed out in bed while reading one of the briefs from a meeting she had to attend next week and hadn’t had the forethought to close her curtains.

She remained laying there on her back, her blood absolutely thrumming through her veins.

Every single cell in her body felt alive with the arousal between her legs.

So strongly, she could already feel how wet she was, how desperately wanting she was for a release.

For the release her dream had promised.

Still feeling that haziness from sleep, she lifted one of her hands – that had been tightly gripping into her bedsheets when she’d woken – and started sliding it down her stomach.

Only to pause when she hit the waist of her cotton shorts, completely frozen when the image popped into her mind. The image that had made her this wet.

Sutton’s blue eyes, staring up at Charlotte from where she’d fallen onto her knees in front of Charlotte’s office chair.

Abruptly, she forced her hand to slap back down onto the mattress, curling it into a fist once more.

“Fuck. Fuck,” she whispered darkly.

Pressing her head back, hard, into her pillow, she let out a pained groan.

Pained because, despite how tightly she squeezed her thighs together with unresolved wanting, she was not going to be coming this morning.

No matter how easy it would undoubtedly be right now to slide her hand into her shorts and touch her clit and fall right over that edge, she would not do it.

Charlotte couldn’t control what happened in her dreams, but she could absolutely control what she did when conscious. And she was not going to touch herself and get off on thoughts of her assistant.

Even if she tried to clear her thoughts and focus only on the sensation, she was certain that the dream was so fresh in her mind’s eye that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from picturing Sutton. And that was wrong on so many levels.

Her body ached in rebellion, demanding to be given relief.

“Too bad,” she whispered in verbal reprimand. “It’s your own fault that you’re not going to orgasm today.” Reaching up, she lightly tapped her knuckles against her temple. “If you want to start the day by touching yourself, you better not picture–” She cut herself off just as her lips formed the S. Even saying it aloud felt like a violation of ethics. “That again.”

She was no neurologist, but she desperately hoped that this would reach the cloudy subconscious in her mind that produced her dreams. Perhaps her body would associate the lack of pleasure and release with that dream, and not let it happen again.

Which really sucked, because Charlotte could so use a good orgasm.  

The tension she’d felt in her dream? Entirely due to the fact that she’d felt that same tension threading through her nearly daily.

She hadn’t had sex in nearly a year. Hadn’t had an orgasm brought to her with anything other than her own hand or her own vibrator – guided by her own hand, so… same thing, really – in ten months.

The same ten months that happened to be the busiest, most stressful time of her life. A time where what she’d love more than anything was to have a few mindless hours with a woman. To lose herself just enough in touching and tasting, before experiencing the blissful calm of an orgasm.

She inhaled deeply, before blowing out a tremulous exhale.

If she thought about it logically, the dream made sense.

Her body was craving a release. A real one, one that wasn’t from Charlotte’s own self. A release she wasn’t going to get, because her election was still too recent for her to feel comfortable dipping her toes even into the more discreet, private avenues at her potential disposal.

And Sutton was… undeniably gorgeous. So, so beautiful. By far the most attractive person Charlotte interacted with on a regular basis, and the margin wasn’t even close.

Added to that, she’d walked into Charlotte’s office less than a week ago and said use me. Like, what the fuck?

Of course her mind had combined Sutton with her unresolved desire to come.

Shaking her head, she took in another breath, closing her eyes. She would not linger on this. It didn’t deserve to be lingered on. Lingering on something as meaningless and inappropriate as a sex dream gave that dream far more wherewithal than it deserved.

With that, she opened her eyes once more and reached out for her phone, sliding her hand down along her mattress until she came into contact with where she’d clearly dropped it when she’d fallen asleep.

She unlocked it, noting the multiple email notifications, a text from Caleb, another from her grandmother, and… one from Sutton.

Chuckling mirthlessly, she shook her head. Perfect.

Making a point to herself, she tapped on Sutton’s message first.

Sutton Spencer – 1:27A.M.

Immediately, Charlotte paused, frowning when she noticed the time the text – scratch that, texts – had been sent.

Sutton never contacted her so late. Especially not on a weekend? Why in the world would she have messaged Charlotte so late on a Friday night?

Hey, so… I was working through your emails earlier and I noticed one that… well, I think that this person intended for this to be delivered to your personal email?

I forwarded it to you. I just wanted you to know.

Have a good night.

Actually, I just noticed the time. So, have a good morning!

And a nice weekend!

Something uneasy slid through Charlotte, and she quickly sat up, combing her hand through her hair, as she quickly opened her personal email, scrolling down to the one forwarded from Sutton.

All it took was for her to see the name Vanessa Logan, and her stomach completely bottomed out.

On the bright side, this worked better than a cold shower.

***

Charlotte didn’t do anxiety.

It wasn’t a feeling she was overly familiar with, nor did she want to ever become familiar with it. She liked to believe that if she followed the steps she’d laid out for herself, then – what was there, really, to be anxious about?

Even when it came to her election night, there hadn’t been any true anxiety rooted inside of her. At the end of the day, the results would be what they would be. Had she ardently hoped and believed she’d done everything in her power to make it happen? Yes. Had she been a little nervous? Sure.

But it hadn’t gone deeper than that.

Right now, as she sat across from her grandmother in her kitchen, though, she felt the deeply unsettling claws of anxiety hook into her.

Sutton knew about her. She –

Her grandmother cleared her throat, arching a brow at Charlotte over her mug. “What has got you so stressed out on a Saturday morning?”

Charlotte rolled her lips, feeling her cheeks heat in a rare blush – something, perhaps, only her grandmother could make her feel – as she debated what to tell her.

Then again, this was her grandmother. She could tell her anything. And if she ever needed council, it was now.

Wrapping her hands around her mug, she slowly tapped her fingertips against it. “Well. A woman I shared a night with…” She trailed off, aiming a layered look at her grandmother.

Who scoffed, waving her hand. “I understand your subtle meaning. Go on.”

Okay, that was enough to make her smile briefly, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to loosen them. “She sent me an email, referencing the night we spent together. Wanting to, possibly… rekindle a spark.”

“I see.” Her grandmother frowned, placing her tea down onto the table as she reached for her phone. “I’ll have one of our lawyers draft an NDA right now. You can serve her with it within the day.”

Charlotte nearly told her grandmother no, that isn’t the point, before she stopped herself. Instead, she nodded. “Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

She’d believed she’d been covered due to the fact that Vanessa had gotten Charlotte to sign her own NDA, but clearly that was her own naivete. Something Charlotte didn’t often have.

She’d had a fair share of women she’d slept with over the years sign nondisclosures, especially in the last couple of years.

So unbelievably dumb of her not to have done so with Vanessa Logan.

Letting out her own sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Beyond that, though… she reached out via my work email–”

“What an idiot,” her grandmother muttered sharply, thumbs flying over her phone.

Charlotte laughed, unsurprised by her grandmother’s vitriol. “Yes. She didn’t, explicitly, state that we had sex. Technically. But it was implied. And,” she paused to clear her throat, wondering if she was the next person to be called an idiot. “My assistant read it, then forwarded it to my private email.”

Elizabeth slowly placed her phone back onto the table, clearly done with having reached out to one of her several lawyers on retainer. “The Spencer girl,” she muttered, pursing her lips.

“Yes,” Charlotte needlessly confirmed; she only had the one assistant.

Her stomach tingled with that anxiety as her grandmother stared at her, intently. “And… you don’t trust her?” She surmised.

Surprise slid through Charlotte at the question, because that particular topic hadn’t occurred to her, at all.

She sat with it for several moments, trying to sift through her thoughts on the matter. “I don’t know,” she admitted, hating the fact that she felt stupid for it. “I haven’t thought about that.”

She shrugged, heavily, dropping her gaze down to her tea.

“My girl, let me tell you a little secret,” Elizabeth started, waiting until Charlotte looked back up at her before she continued, “Trusting your personal assistant is something that comes with this territory.”

At the very idea of trust, though, Charlotte’s stomach twisted.

And she could tell that her grandmother could read her thoughts, because she huffed out a laugh.

“Now, you know how much I believe you need to keep your true inner-circle close.”

Charlotte nodded. That advice was very simple for her to follow.

“But, as you continue to climb the ladder, you’ll see that there’s a lot of merit in being able to trust those closest to you. And with the less time you’ll have to focus on your personal life and needs, the more you’ll rely on your assistant. Likely, eventually, assistants. There is almost nothing as vital in your life, as you’re building your inner-circle in this world, as having a trustworthy, loyal assistant. I promise you that.” With that, her grandmother took another sip of her tea.

Charlotte weighed her words.

On one hand, the advice made perfect sense; her grandmother always did. On the other hand…

“Isn’t trusting my assistant with work a very different matter than trusting them to know about me? Why would my assistant ever need to know about who I sleep with?”

Especially because she wasn’t fucking sleeping with anyone! Charlotte had chosen to live celibately and this was what she got in return?

Elizabeth let out a scoff. “Your assistant will be with you more than almost anyone else you know. More than anyone else in your life. How long did Cynthia work for me?”

Charlotte knew by the look in her grandmother’s eyes that this was not a rhetorical question. She wracked her mind, easily conjuring up a clear picture of her grandmother’s assistant. “For… at least twenty years?”

She’d been by her grandmother’s side for most of Charlotte’s life, before she’d retired after Elizabeth’s presidency.

Her grandmother nodded in approval. “Twenty-two years. Do you think that she was unaware of my personal life?”

Truthfully, Charlotte had never once thought about that. Why would she have?

Now that she was, though, she slowly shook her head. “I imagine she knew quite a bit.”

After all, Cynthia had even joined family parties on occasion. Charlotte had met her daughter, multiple times. She’d probably spent more time with her grandmother than anyone else on earth, including Charlotte.

“She was privy to everything,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Because, with what I had on my plate, I needed to trust in her to handle whatever task was necessary. And I needed her to do it well, to believe she would execute in the very same fashion I would.”

That all made sense.

It didn’t make Charlotte feel entirely at-ease, but it made sense.

“Now, I don’t imagine you know the Spencer girl enough to have that same trust just yet. And that’s fair, because real trust takes time. But, on the other side of that, it’s been – what, a month? Since she’s worked for you?” Her grandmother tilted her head in thought.

Of course, the steel trap of her mind would keep record of when Charlotte had hired Sutton. A small smile quirked up her lips at the thought. “Nearly to the day.”

“If, after a month, you still don’t believe you could potentially put your trust in her, then perhaps you’d do well to find another assistant.” Elizabeth nodded, firm and sure in her comment, at Charlotte.

Who found that her stomach twisted in dissent at that.

In the last month, Sutton had only performed above and beyond Charlotte’s standards. She’d asked for more responsibility, even. Her work ethic was beyond reproach, and she’d handled every task Charlotte had been willing to give her with aplomb.

But she’d found herself holding back for multiple reasons.

The largest and most obvious was… it was difficult. Trusting someone. Someone that worked for her, that knew her as a Congresswoman before knowing her as anyone else.

Related to that, Charlotte was a control freak – in Caleb’s words, not her own. Which was why she’d only unclasped her grip slowly, bit by bit, on her daily responsibilities.

There was, admittedly, a little bit of pride in it all, too. She’d always been able to manage everything on her own. What did it say about her that she couldn’t shoulder all of her own responsibilities?

She stared at her grandmother, though, letting her comments sink in.

If Charlotte wanted the future she’d envisioned and was working to make happen, she wouldn’t be able to personally oversee every single aspect. If her grandmother couldn’t, no one could. And it would be a fools errand to try.

More than anything, Charlotte refused to play a fool.

With a deep breath, she reached down and grabbed her phone.

Charlotte Thompson – 1:21P.M.I realize it’s the weekend and that I’d given no notice I’d need you on stand-by, but are you available to meet over dinner tonight?

She’d barely put her phone down when it vibrated in answer.

Sutton Spencer – 1:21P.M.Of course, no problem! Just let me know where/when, I’ll be there.

All right, then. Charlotte supposed it was truly time to decide on Sutton Spencer one way or the other.

***

Charlotte sat at the back table of one of her favorite Mediterranean restaurants – upscale, small, private – a few hours later.

She eyed the bottle of wine she’d ordered, sitting on ice on the table next to them. There was no reason to crowd their table; she’d reserved the entire back row out for the next hour, given the nature of the conversation they’d be having.

But she didn’t pour herself a glass. Nope, that wine was for a potential toast.

She glanced up at just the right time to see Sutton walking toward her.

She was wearing a short-sleeved light blue dress that cinched at the waist, and then had an airy flow down to her knees – something that worked as both casual weekend-wear and still appropriate for the venue. Incredibly fucking cute.

Charlotte maintained her resolve to abstain from the wine, even as she felt her throat run a little dryer.

Perhaps she should have taken a bit more precaution when it came to meeting with Sutton today, after having that dream last night. It was just so fresh on her mind, still. So clear.

She’d absolved herself of any guilt from having the dream. She couldn’t control her subconscious, and she couldn’t help the fact that she was…

Horny.

Such a ridiculous, base word, but, well, there it was. She’d never gone this long without sex since she’d started having it, and it was obviously having some side effects.

Sutton was an innocent bystander in it all – in real-world, not dream-world, obviously – and with the way she presented herself? Yes, innocent seemed very apropos.

She always looked very chic and put-together, but even with her adorable summery outfit today, she looked like the embodiment of someone that would be downright scandalized by Charlotte’s debased thoughts. Subconscious thoughts, but still.

She imagined that Sutton wasn’t homophobic, having been born and raised in such a progressive family. But she also couldn’t help but picture Sutton as someone that dreamed of being a stay-at-home wife and mother to a successful, upstanding man.

Not that those things – progressive and staying at home – couldn’t co-exist, Charlotte knew.

She shook her head at herself as Sutton approached, steeling herself against any unwanted reminders from last night’s dream.

“Thank you for meeting me for dinner,” she started as Sutton reached the table.

There was a flush on Sutton’s cheeks, one that Charlotte couldn’t possibly discern if it was from the humid summer heat outside or because of what Sutton knew about her, now.

“Of course,” Sutton immediately responded, reaching out and gripping the back of the chair opposite Charlotte, as she bit her lip. “I mean, you were very clear when I took the job that it wasn’t some sort of typical nine-to-five position. Which, well, I suppose that it has been relatively typical in terms of workday hours, so far. But just because that’s been the case in the last month doesn’t mean that I believe that will always be the case.”

Sutton’s voice was soft as she rambled, clearly being mindful of her volume while they were in public, even though no one else was around.

Charlotte appreciated that.

She appreciated even more that Sutton’s nervous-sounding ramble, in turn, made Charlotte’s own confidence return ten-fold.

Before Sutton could continue – and Charlotte could see that this ramble would, in fact, be continuing – she cleared her throat and gestured to the chair Sutton had yet to pull out from the table. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Sutton immediately closed her mouth, whatever else might have been forthcoming swiftly stopped as she followed Charlotte’s request and swiftly took her seat.

“I, um – I know I wouldn’t typically be wearing this to the office,” Sutton murmured, her cheeks flushing all over again as she gestured at her dress. “I was out today and didn’t really have time to go home and change before dinner.”

Charlotte waved her off, resolutely not looking at Sutton’s dress again. Especially where she’d pointed at herself, at the smooth skin of her chest.

“It’s fine. Again, it’s the weekend. And you were absolutely correct – this is not a typical nine-to-five, but I still appreciate you meeting me.”

She paused, eyeing Sutton.

Who stared back at her, blue eyes wide and luminous as she stared at Charlotte like this was the first time they’d ever met. Very clearly thinking about the email, then.

She narrowed her own eyes back slightly, before asking, “Is there anything you’d like to ask me about, Sutton?”

Immediately, Sutton reeled back, shaking her head. “No. I mean, I – well. No.” She coughed, adorably awkwardly, into her fist. “That is, unless there’s something you want to, um, discuss with me.”

Even though Charlotte’s stomach tangled in knots at the idea of being vulnerable, of opening herself up to Sutton in any way, she pushed through it. Rolling her shoulders back, she decided to dive right in. “I would, in fact, like to discuss the email you received last night. From Vanessa Logan.”

Oh, yeah, she did not enjoy the feeling that landed like a stone in her stomach just saying that aloud.

But this was it. This had to be it. Could she really, truly trust Sutton, or not?

Sutton’s cheeks turned a deep pink, and she averted her gaze from Charlotte’s to look down at her water glass. “Right. I thought that might have something to do with you wanting to meet today.”

Before Charlotte could figure out how, exactly, she wanted to approach this – because despite having hours to think on it, she hadn’t been able to completely work it out in her mind, Sutton quickly pushed on –

“I want you to know, though, that I, um, I’m not jumping to any conclusions about anything she might have intimated. About you. I – you know, she could mean anything, really.”

Slowly, Charlotte arched an eyebrow at Sutton, incredulously. That email… could have meant anything? In which Vanessa referenced their night together and the NDA?

“Or she could just be looking to seek out your attention, now that you’re in a position of influence,” Sutton continued, flicking her gaze back up to Charlotte. “I just want you to know that I’m not making any erroneous conclusions from a simple email like that–”

Charlotte decided that ripping off the proverbial bandage would put them both out of their misery. Especially Sutton, whose blush was deepening by the second.

“The conclusion wouldn’t be erroneous, Sutton,” she quietly, but firmly interjected.

Sutton stared at her, full lips agape, for several heart-pounding moments, before she snapped her mouth shut. Then seemed to force herself to blink.

Then continued to blink rapidly, and Charlotte knew she was witnessing Sutton process the reveal of her sexuality in real-time.

It would be amusing, if Charlotte wasn’t also feeling her stomach erupt in butterflies.

“It… wouldn’t,” Sutton slowly, softly stated. “You, I, uh. That means that you’re–”

Charlotte sat up straight, jutting out her jaw. Maybe this was nerve-wracking, but she wasn’t shamed, and she wouldn’t act like it. “I’m a lesbian.”

Sutton released a tremulous breath, eyes blinking even wider.

Charlotte waited for as long as she could manage – at least thirty seconds of silence – before she felt her defenses inch up. Maybe she had been too quick to make assumptions about Sutton’s progressive upbringing?

“If that’s an issue for you–”

She cut herself off when Sutton lifted her hand so quickly, she smacked her knuckles audibly against the table. Even though Sutton flinched in pain, she didn’t pause, shaking her hand quickly in Charlotte’s direction. “No, no. No way. It’s not an issue at all. I’m – I’m happy for you.”

Staring dubiously back at Sutton, she asked, “You’re happy for me?”

Sutton heavily dropped her hand back down to the table, shaking her head. “Not that, I mean, I suppose there’s a reason you haven’t come out. I just… mean… that’s great for you.”

“It is,” Charlotte pushed, arching a look at Sutton. Who was clearly floundering, here, so Charlotte did what she did best – she took the situation over.

Leaning in, she measuredly held Sutton’s gaze with her own. “The reality of the situation isn’t quite so great for me. I’m not closeted; my family knows who I am, and I have no hang-ups about my sexuality. I have hang-ups about how seriously it could impact my career. And now, you are part of a very small list of people who know the truth.”

She aimed a serious, meaningful stare at Sutton.

Who met and held her gaze, unflinching. There was no judgment there, nothing negative. If anything, she looked truly mystified.

“Well, me and Vanessa Logan,” Sutton murmured, before she slapped her hand over her mouth, clearly not having thought through that comment before she’d said it aloud. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, muffled through her hand. “I–”

Charlotte’s surprise at Sutton’s zinger faded, and laughter bubbled up in her throat. “Don’t apologize. You’re quite correct.”

God, the Vanessa of it all…

She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I have clearly indulged in…” How should she phrase this? Keeping in mind that Sutton – regardless of bridging this trust – was still her subordinate? “Short-lived connection with Vanessa.” On that note, she fixed Sutton with a curious stare. “Also, I’m sorry, but what in the world did you mean by that email could have meant anything? What could that email have meant, other than what it actually means?”

Sutton tossed her hands into the air, before dropping them heavily to her sides. “I don’t know! For all I know, you spent a night playing board games.”

“I don’t own a board game,” she dryly responded, but was being entirely truthful. She didn’t remember the last time she’d even played a board game.

But she couldn’t help but regard Sutton with growing amusement.

Especially as Sutton’s cheeks colored even deeper. “Well, how am I supposed to know that?”

“Is that what you think? That I leave the office at night and return home to play board games?” She teased.

Sutton pursed her lips, aiming her a look.

Which only heightened her amusement. Frankly, this levity she felt was shocking, but… in a way she felt like a weight was lifted from her, having the truth out in the open with Sutton.

Maybe keeping Sutton at a distance due to trying to maintain the secrecy shrouding her personal life had played a far bigger role in why she’d been unable to relinquish control at the office than she’d thought.

It certainly felt that way right now.

Right now, as she looked at Sutton and felt – more than anything – a very new sense of camaraderie.

Even so, she sobered, and got back to the matter at hand.

“I want you to know that I appreciate how you handled Vanessa’s email. Discreetly and quickly. And that it’s been handled, now.”

Thompson family lawyers had already drafted and sent out an NDA on her behalf.

“I want you to know that I’d never share this, with anyone. Even if I hadn’t signed my own NDA’s when onboarding with you,” Sutton promised, her tone so incredibly, sweetly, sincere.

Charlotte nearly jumped back in surprise when Sutton’s hand landed gently on hers where it rested on the table. Her skin was soft and warm, and unexpectedly very… comforting. She stared down at the touch, unable to keep herself from flashing vividly back to her dream.

Before she tightly shut her eyes and put up a mental block, and slid her hand slowly out from under Sutton’s.

“I can’t believe she reached out to you after you’d signed an NDA,” Sutton muttered, sounding absolutely baffled. “Who does that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she answered, darkly, pursing her lips at the thought.

Before she shook her head, clearing that out of her mind, as well, as she refocused on Sutton.

“So… now you know. Beyond my family and Dean, you are the only person I have in my life that knows. This could lead to other potential complications, in the future. If you did have political aspirations of your own, it could certainly impact those,” she quietly stated, wanting Sutton to think this through.

Sutton stared at her in confusion, already shaking her head. “Political asp – I don’t, I definitely don’t. I mean, even if I did, your sexuality wouldn’t deter me from working with you. That’s…” she chuckled, her cheeks flushing again. “… crazy,” she finished, softly.

The relief Charlotte felt threading through her was surprising.

She supposed she’d already found herself relying on Sutton in the last month, even while keeping her at a distance. The idea of Sutton leaving, especially now that she had made a positive impact in Charlotte’s daily life, after Charlotte had come to start to trust her…

Well, it was alarmingly more disheartening than she’d have expected.

“I still want to work with you,” Sutton confirmed, nodding at Charlotte. There wasn’t a single waver or hint of doubt in her tone, as sharp blue eyes locked onto her own. “If anything, I find you even more inspiring, now.”

“Well, realistically, nothing has actually changed,” she countered, even though she felt herself grinning back. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” Biting at the inside of her cheek, she pushed forward, having already decided that if this went well, it was time to truly open the gates. “I think it’s also about time you start joining me on my trips to D.C. Starting this Monday.”

“Oh!” Sutton’s surprise was evident. “That’s – great. Okay. I’d love to.”

“Great.” Charlotte reached for the wine on the other table, more than ready to pour herself a glass. “A toast to our new… partnership?”

The word tasted incredibly strange on her tongue, but she couldn’t deny that was precisely what this felt like she was embarking on. Yes, she would still be Sutton’s boss, but – per her grandmother’s advice – she needed to let herself rely on Sutton. To actually let her in. To see Sutton as a trusted confidante, someone on her level.

Terrifying.

But also… good?

Sutton’s beautifully wide smile was so bright as it slid over her face. “I’d love that.”

Now all Charlotte needed from Sutton was for her to stop using phrases like use me, and they could be on the verge of something great.

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