Guilty as Sin ch. 7 (Patreon)
Downloads
Content
Aaaand we're back...
Now that the cat (... Charlotte's sexuality, of course) is out of the bag, let's get things rolling
---------- Guilty as Sin ----------
Chapter Seven
Sutton couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She really, truly couldn’t believe it.
After she seemed to be making headway with Charlotte in leaps and bounds, now she was facing such a ludicrous set-back, only a day later. One step forward, two steps back.
She was in D.C. – because Charlotte wanted her to join her on her trip! Finally! Charlotte was finally realizing that Sutton could be a value add for her, it seemed. She’d, apparently, just needed a little push in the form of, well, Sutton learning about her sexuality by mistake.
Regardless of how she ended up here, she was here. And she was determined not to let Charlotte down. She’d been the model assistant in her first month, and she’d continue, now.
Except for the fact that she couldn’t even freaking check in to the hotel she’d booked last night!
Yes, she knew the booking had been somewhat last minute. She’d only met with Charlotte yesterday evening – Saturday – for dinner, and hadn’t been able to book her hotel and flight until she’d gotten home, less than twenty-four hours ago, at this point.
But what kind of hotel said they had availability and let her book a room, only to inform her that they, actually, over-booked, and didn’t have space for her?
And it wasn’t like she’d booked somewhere of ill-repute; the Fox and Hyde was a very well-respected 5-star establishment, for god’s sake. And –
“Ms. Spencer?” the woman working the hotel check-in desk’s voice reached her.
She snapped her head up from where she was sitting in one of the plush chairs in the lobby, her laptop balanced on her knees, for the last twenty-five minutes, desperately searching to find some lodging that offered availability for this week.
At the small smile on the woman’s face as she approached, Sutton felt the vague flutter of hope spring to life inside of her. Maybe they’d somehow realized that there’d been a mistake? Sutton did have a room booked, after all?
The hope was dashed as soon as the woman – Tasha – reached her, and Sutton could see the apology etched onto her face, even before she spoke. “Again, I am so sorry for the inconvenience.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sutton returned, mustering up as much of a graceful smile as she could manage.
Despite her frustration and stress, though, it truly wasn’t Tasha’s fault their online booking system had fucked Sutton over.
Tasha’s smile notched into something a little warmer, accepting Sutton’s comment with a nod. “Yes, but I understand it’s a situation far from ideal. Especially given all of the hubbub this week.” She vaguely gestured around to the lobby that was, indeed, bustling at eight P.M. on a Sunday night. “I’ve reached out to our affiliate property, about twenty miles away, and they don’t have any availability, either. You’ve, of course, been refunded for the single night deposit that you put down when you booked. And I worked with our general manager to get you this, as a token of our apology here at Fox and Hyde.”
She handed Sutton a thin enveloped, embossed with the hotel’s logo, which she haltingly accepted.
Before she could question what it was, Tasha explained, “It’s an all-day package for our spa service. Rated best in the area. You have two free massages and facials, as well as access to all of our amenities – including the pool, sauna, cold plunge, and hot tubs.”
Sutton accepted the envelope, managing another smile though she could feel how meager it was. “I appreciate it.”
Which… sure, it was good customer service. But it did nothing to solve her problem.
“Feel free to continue to enjoy the complementary Wi-Fi. Let me know if there’s anything else I can assist you with,” Tasha finished, aiming another one of those sympathetic looks Sutton’s way, before she turned to go back to the check-in desk.
“Thank you,” she returned, before blowing out a breath and falling back against the chair.
She reached up, scrubbing her hands over her face. This was so – wonderful. Just, wonderful.
Charlotte was barely starting to believe in Sutton, entrusting her with bigger responsibilities, and she was going to now find out that Sutton had somehow fucked up one of the most basic tasks of booking a hotel!
If that didn’t completely torpedo Charlotte’s fledging trust in her, Sutton didn’t know what would.
She felt her phone starting to buzz in her pocket, and she quickly fished it out, relieved to see Regan’s name flashing across the screen.
“Have you found anything?” She asked, hopefully, as soon as she answered.
Regan tsk’d at her. “What kind of greeting is that for your lifelong best friend?”
Sutton rolled her eyes despite the fact that Regan couldn’t see it. “Oh my god,” she faked enthusiasm, “Regan! How have you been? It’s been so long since we last spoke barely a half hour ago.”
Regan cackled. “That’s more like it, thank you.” She sobered, then, and Sutton’s stomach sank impossibly lower just before Regan’s voice tinged with apology, “I couldn’t find anything for you on AirBnb. I mean, nothing trustworthy enough for a hottie like you to stay in by yourself, anyway. What the hell is going on there, again? Is there some sort of reunion concert I wasn’t aware of? Do I need to figure out how to get down there to see it?”
A dry, exasperated laugh bubbled up as she dropped her head back against the chair and stared, dismally, up at the ceiling of the lobby. “It’s the confluence of poor timing. There’s a huge summit this week,” Sutton knew, because Charlotte had several very busy days ahead. “And there’s a tech conference all week as well, with the heads of companies not only all over the country, but internationally. And, apparently, there are several school summer programs here for two weeks.”
As a result, there were countless accommodations made for not only all of the heads of state and execs, but also all of political and corporate security, entourage, and assistants that came along with them. The slightly less expensive and prestigious hotels a little farther out were booked through most of the schools.
Most of whom had, presumably, booked out their accommodations far earlier in hotels and AirBnb’s than Sutton had.
And all of it resulted in leaving her… screwed.
“Bummer.” Though Regan’s word choice was glib, she could hear that Regan genuinely meant it. “Both kind of boring, and extremely inconvenient.”
She breathed out a mirthless laugh, followed by a pained groan. “Yes, well, I don’t necessarily find it boring, but I certainly am finding it inconvenient.”
In fact, Sutton was excited for the upcoming week. Until dinner with Charlotte last night, she’d been gearing up for another week in the New York office, sans Charlotte. Meaning, another week of her rote duties.
For the last twenty-four hours, she’d combed over Charlotte’s schedule and gotten herself excited for what was in store.
Heaving a sigh, she forced herself out of the pity-party she’d fallen into. “All right; I don’t feel I have the luxury of time on my side right now. I’m going to keep searching.”
“You’ll call me when you have it figured out?” Regan pressed, an urgency in her voice, as if she was Sutton’s mother.
Honestly, a very similar tone to Sutton’s mom.
Only, her mom would be a hell of a lot less calm than Regan was about the fact that Sutton was – for now – in D.C. without anywhere to stay. Which was also why she wouldn’t be calling her parents.
“Of course,” she assured. “I’ll call you later.”
“Byeee babe. Be safe!”
Sutton dropped her phone into her lap, worrying at her bottom lip as she considered her next move.
It seemed unavoidable at this point.
Inhaling deeply, she sat up straight and rolled her shoulders in preparation, as she scrolled through her contacts to Charlotte’s name. Before she could stop herself, she hit the call icon.
On the first ring, she was already doubting herself.
Why did she need to call Charlotte, actually? After all, this wasn’t going to affect Charlotte, not really. Right? So –
“Hello? Sutton?” Charlotte answered, quicker than Sutton had anticipated.
Granted, what did she think she’d have done? Second-guessed herself, and then hung up after having already dialed Charlotte’s number? Idiot.
Clearing her throat, she answered, “Um – hey.”
Yes, this was off to a great start.
“Is everything all right?” Charlotte asked, after waiting a beat.
“Yeah, mostly. I mean, nothing for you is wrong,” she assured her, needing Charlotte to know that she hadn’t messed anything up for her.
Charlotte didn’t say anything for several seconds, and her quiet was weighted with an expectancy that Sutton found extremely powerful. God, that was the kind of thing she so admired about Charlotte. How had she mastered that?
Propelled by it, she continued, “I really am sorry about bothering you on a Sunday night.” The last thing she wanted to be doing.
“It’s fine,” Charlotte’s tone was unexpectedly patient. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
It was surprisingly… coaxing.
“Well, uh, the hotel that I booked last night? There was some sort of glitch in the system, or something, and they double-booked me. Or, I suppose it’s more apt to say they double-booked someone else’s room. Because when I tried to check-in after my flight landed, it turns out, I don’t have a room here. I’ve spent the last half hour searching every hotel I can find within a thirty-minute drive that’s half-decent, and haven’t found anything with availability.”
“You’d think that the people organizing that tech conference would have looked into whether there were any other events this week before finalizing their plans,” Charlotte muttered, derisively.
She found it somewhat comforting, nodding in agreement. “Right?” Still, it didn’t solve her problem. “Anyway, it means I have to widen my search radius for a hotel. I’m sure I’ll find something.”
She was slightly concerned for exactly how far away from D.C. this search was going to take her, though. Hence the phone call.
“So, I just wanted to call you and let you know that – I am here, and I will figure this out.” She sincerely hoped this didn’t diminish any of Charlotte’s confidence in her. “But I wanted you to be aware, mostly because I imagine that getting a car in the morning might pose as much of a problem as finding a hotel is.”
“Ah,” Charlotte hummed, thoughtfully. “I presume you’re correct.”
“I’m going to be doing everything in my power to get to your first meeting tomorrow morning, on time,” she promised.
“If you have to book a hotel an hour outside of the city, account for potential traffic, and are trying to call a car early enough that you won’t have any significant delay, you’ll likely be calling for that Uber at five in the morning. Every morning this week.” Charlotte’s tone was dry and teasing, but there was a seriousness under her words.
One that had Sutton’s stomach tie in stressful knots. “Yeah, I know,” she acknowledged, and realized a second too late that she’d let her real, genuine glum attitude slip in. Rolling her lips closed in self-reproach for a moment, she then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about that. I just – I’m a little bit frustrated at the situation. I’ll figure it out,” she repeated, confidently.
She would figure it out, even if it wasn’t the most ideal solution; she was sure of that.
“But I wanted you to be aware,” she finished, before holding her breath.
It wasn’t like she expected Charlotte to fire her or send her packing back to their New York office. But she couldn’t help but feel like she’d failed, somehow. And to expect disappointment from that failure.
Especially when Charlotte didn’t immediately respond. Not with disappointment or reassurance or – anything.
As several more seconds passed, Sutton frowned and pulled away from her phone to check if their line was still connected.
Which… it was…
“Charlotte?” She asked, tentatively.
She couldn’t be mad at Sutton, right?
“Sorry, I’m here. Just… thinking,” Charlotte murmured.
Unsure of what to say to that, Sutton didn’t say anything.
After another few seconds, she felt the tight knots of stress in her stomach pull even tighter. Yeah, she shouldn’t have called Charlotte about this.
That was especially reaffirmed for her when she heard Charlotte blow out a deep breath. “The reality is that I wanted you to be here this week because I’d very much appreciate having you in several of my meetings. There’s going to be a lot going on, and having you there to pick up any potential slack and keep things organized would be ideal.”
Feeling heartened by that – that Charlotte truly believe Sutton was going to be of value to her, that she wanted Sutton’s help – she felt a resolve settle through her. “Don’t worry. Even if I have to call my car at five in the morning, I’ll be there.”
None of that I’ll do everything in my power business; she would do it.
Charlotte released a pensive sigh. “That feels a bit… excessive.”
Sutton frowned, confusion working through her. “I mean – I don’t really think I have many other options?”
After another pause, Charlotte cleared her throat. “Why don’t you stay with me.”
Even though it should have sounded like a question, it didn’t. It sounded like a concession, and Sutton’s confusion only grew.
“Um. Well, I don’t know where you stay, actually, when you’re in D.C.” Charlotte had Sutton book her flights, but never her accommodations; she just assumed Charlotte liked to keep here location as private as possible. “But no matter where it is, I’m fairly certain that they won’t have any extra rooms available.”
Unless Charlotte booked multiple rooms when she traveled? Which seemed odd to Sutton, but if there was anything she’d learned in the last several days it was that she really didn’t know what to expect when it came to Charlotte.
“I’m not staying in a hotel,” Charlotte informed her, a patented amusement in her tone. “I have an apartment, that I can assure you is close enough to the Hill that you won’t be needing to wake up before the sunrise.”
Everything inside of her paused at hearing those words. Her heart even skipped a beat, as she processed what, exactly, Charlotte was saying.
She blinked, blindly, across the lobby, as she slowly clarified, “You – you are inviting me to stay in your apartment? With you?”
Charlotte breathed a dry laugh. “Well, I’m not going to be able to find a hotel for the night… Yes, Sutton, I will be staying in my apartment as well.”
“Ha,” she managed, even as she felt her cheeks and neck and chest all heat in a blush. “Obviously. I just mean – I don’t expect you to do this for me.”
“I have a guest room,” Charlotte breezily replied. “It’s not as though I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”
“Right,” Sutton murmured, still unable to fully wrap her mind around the turn of events. “Are you sure?” She pressed, biting at her bottom lip. “I’ll be able to find somewhere else, and I–”
“Sutton,” Charlotte cut her off, swiftly. “This week, there’s a decent chance we won’t be leaving work until at least seven or eight. If you’re staying an hour outside of the city, you won’t even arrive back at your accommodations until potentially after nine at night. Then, you’ll likely have another hour or so to debrief, go through any remaining work for the day, go over the schedule for the following day. Then, you’ll wake up at – what, four in the morning to get ready for the day ahead?”
There was an incredulity dripping from her voice, something easily dismissive.
And, no, it didn’t sound ideal to Sutton in the least, but… she could do it. She would do it, if need be.
Before she could say as much, Charlotte continued, “There’s absolutely no need for you to put yourself through that when I have a perfectly well-appointed guest room.”
“Right. That, um, does make the most sense,” Sutton found herself agreeing, her thoughts still running rapid circles around in her mind.
“It does. I’ll text you my address.”
***
Sutton was going to spend the night at Charlotte’s apartment.
No, actually, she was spending five nights at Charlotte’s apartment.
Sutton was literally getting out of the car to walk up to the luxury building Charlotte had texted her the address to, and she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what she was doing.
Not even as she was walking toward the door, wheeling her suitcase behind her.
There was an undeniable excitement that thrummed through her at the idea of having this glimpse into Charlotte’s life. At who Charlotte was, beyond the very structured person she was at work.
And there was also an undeniable tangle of nerves that sat low in her stomach at the prospect of sharing a personal space with Charlotte.
Like, her tendency to ramble. She was mostly able to keep a lid on that during work hours. Sometimes it was unavoidable, but… but what embarrassing, cringey situations could Sutton get herself into when sharing space with Charlotte beyond work?!
What would they talk about?
Sutton knew what she wanted to talk about.
Because Charlotte’s sexuality had sat on her mind nonstop since dinner yesterday.
Charlotte was a lesbian.
Charlotte Thompson, congresswoman and her boss, was a lesbian.
Charlotte, the most gorgeous woman Sutton had ever seen in real life, was a lesbian.
She’d tried, very hard, not to let her mind wander Friday night, after receiving the email from Vanessa. In fact, after she’d forwarded it to Charlotte, she’d managed to talk herself out of the belief that Charlotte was queer. Sure, the email seemed fairly obvious, but there was NO WAY.
Only, apparently, there very much was a way. Because Charlotte had come out to her.
Sutton knew that Charlotte’s sexuality changed absolutely nothing. It didn’t make her a different person.
What it meant was that now, Sutton had moved into a higher echelon of trust. Which was huge and amazing, and it made her so – honored.
It was all just so crazy. Within the last day, she’d learned about Charlotte’s sexuality, had been essentially promoted – in terms of responsibilities and trust – to coming to D.C. with Charlotte, and was now about to enter her apartment?!
She punched in the code Charlotte had given her to get through the large glass doors that led into a spacious, modern lobby, before going to the elevator and typing in a different code to access that.
When she stepped off on the tenth floor, she pulled in a deep breath.
She was going to Charlotte’s apartment, where she was going to be staying for the work week. No big deal.
Only a week ago, she was essentially begging Charlotte to let her answer her emails. But yeah, no big deal.
She paused outside of Charlotte’s door. Just needing to take a moment and gather her thoughts, because the last couple of hours had been nonstop. Airplane, getting a car, the fiasco at the hotel, and now… now, she was going to be staying at Charlotte’s apartment.
She was going to get a real, actual look at the woman behind the curtain! At who Charlotte really was. More than anything, the fact that Charlotte was even offering her this meant that she really did trust Sutton, now.
So surreal.
Before she could lift her hand to knock, the door swung open, and Sutton jumped back as surprise shot through her. Her knees hit her suitcase, and she yelped, throwing her hands out as she lost her balance.
Quicker than Sutton would have given her credit for, Charlotte darted forward, gripping firmly at her forearm with one hand, catching one of Sutton’s flailing hands with the other to help stabilize her.
Thankfully, it worked, and Sutton managed – barely – to not fall right on her ass. Which was precisely the kind of thing she was nervous about with this arrangement.
“Off to a great start already,” she breathed, feeling the mortification creep up inside of her, as she looked up and met Charlotte’s gaze with her own.
Wide, honey brown eyes were already trained on her face in concern. “Are you all right? I didn’t think I’d scare you so much.”
“I just didn’t expect…” She trailed off, feeling her cheeks flame even hotter. “How’d you know I was here?”
Charlotte’s firm, sturdy – surprisingly strong? – hold on her squeezed on Sutton’s hand and her arm, as if making sure she really wasn’t about to fall over. Before she slowly released her, arching her a look of quiet amusement. “There’s a camera at the entrance that residents can access when their access code is typed in. Like when you used mine. I got an alert on my phone.”
“Oh. Right. Makes sense,” she murmured, rolling her eyes at herself.
Of course this building had multiple security measures; she’d needed multiple different security codes just to get to Charlotte’s front door! Given the location, she imagined Charlotte was far from the only politician in residence.
The amusement alight in Charlotte’s expression grew, even though she could tell she was trying to bite it back. “Indeed, it does.”
That bright look faded, though, a moment later, when Charlotte looked around the hallway, before tossing a glance over her own shoulder at her front door. Something more serious and subdued slid into its place, a look Sutton was very familiar with at work.
When she looked back at Sutton, she seemed all business as she asked, “Ready to come in?”
Reaching for the handle of her traitorous, tripping-hazard suitcase, Sutton nodded. Then tightened her hold on the handle even harder, giving herself an anchor in this moment. “I think that makes more sense than staying in the hall. So, um, yes.”
With a tight nod, Charlotte turned and led her in.
And for the first time today, Sutton was able to have a moment to actually take Charlotte in.
Despite the fact that it was now almost nine at night on a Sunday, and Charlotte was clearly at her own home, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved chiffon blouse with cute little floral patterns on it. Something Charlotte likely wouldn’t wear to work, but… it seemed far too formal to be wearing in her own home on a weekend night?
She carefully closed the door behind her, wondering if Charlotte had changed into that outfit because of her arrival or if this was simply how Charlotte dressed. Alone. At night. On a weekend.
Honestly, Sutton couldn’t really decide what she believed. For most people, she’d have to assume it was because they were expecting company. But for Charlotte, who Sutton hadn’t ever really seen to be relaxed or laid-back, she had no idea.
Even at dinner last night, once they’d ordered their food, the conversation had turned to the hectic schedule for this week.
And Sutton knew – she knew – that she and Charlotte weren’t actually friends, even if she was now in Charlotte’s trust tree. But still.
She’d come so close to admitting to Charlotte that of course she could trust Sutton regarding her sexuality. That Sutton understood what it was like, navigating a coming out process, and that she couldn’t even imagine the pressure Charlotte was under. Because last year, Sutton had to figure out the right time and place to come out to her own family. A family she knew would be loving and supportive, and even so – she’d wanted it to be right.
Let alone trying to come out to the entire country.
But she’d held that comment back, sensing that Charlotte wouldn’t appreciate the conversation taking a truly personal twist. There was a difference between discussing Charlotte and aspects of her life that could have an effect on work – the part of Charlotte’s life that Sutton was a part of. Granted, due to the very personal nature of politics, those aspects could be just about anything about Charlotte’s life.
Sutton wasn’t a politician. Her own personal life and endeavors had nothing to do with Charlotte or their working relationship. She and Charlotte – in the context of their dynamic – were not equals.
And Sutton wasn’t an idiot; she recognized that. So, she didn’t mention anything about herself last night.
“I’ll give you the grand tour,” Charlotte said, shaking Sutton out of her thoughts. “But I’ll admit – it’s not super grand.”
Sutton blinked, ludicrously, back at Charlotte. Though she was standing just inside the entrance, Sutton could very easily see that this apartment was, actually, very grand.
The ceilings were at least ten feet tall, making the space feel large and airy. The entire building was relatively new – built within the last few years – and everything was state-of-the-art; Sutton didn’t even have to see the tour to know that Charlotte’s apartment was nothing short of luxurious.
“By that, I mean it’s not huge,” Charlotte amended, ruefully, as she met Sutton’s stare.
Charlotte turned, slightly, gesturing to the door right behind her. “This is the bathroom – your bathroom, while you’re here. There’s an ensuite off of the primary bedroom,” she explained.
Some of the nervous knots in Sutton’s stomach loosened at that. That was good. That was, actually, great.
She didn’t need Charlotte to know about her contact solution and her nighttime skin care routine.
Charlotte then tilted her head to the right, before she turned and led the way down the short hall. She pointed at another door as they passed. “This is the laundry room. Feel free to use it, of course.”
“Do you have another one of those in your ensuite?” She couldn’t help but ask, jokingly.
Charlotte turned her head to arch an eyebrow up at Sutton. “Ha-ha.”
She breathed out a laugh, relieved that Charlotte had taken the comment as intended. That Sutton really hadn’t been mocking or teasing her; it would be highly hypocritical if she did, considering who both of their families were and the privilege they’d both had access to in their lives.
They passed another door. “This is your room.” Charlotte cut herself off, abruptly, before she cleared her throat. “Well, the guest room. Yours for the week.”
Sutton slowly tilted her head, looking at the tightness in Charlotte’s shoulders. Something she hadn’t noticed before, but… yeah. Charlotte’s body language, and that kind of awkward moment –
Charlotte wasn’t quite sure of her footing in this, either!
Charlotte, who always seemed to have everything in hand – even when she’d come out to Sutton – seemed a little unsure.
Something about that made something soft and warm settle in Sutton’s stomach, taking away most of her own uncertainty. Seeing Charlotte being a little off-kilter was strangely sweet. She enjoyed it.
“I got that,” she assured her, a gentle smile quirking at her mouth. “I promise, I’m not intending on moving in.”
Regan would kill her, after all.
Charlotte scoffed out a laugh, before she took the final few steps into the open concept kitchen/living area. The ceilings in here soared, with gorgeous exposed beams on display. Yeah, it was certainly grand.
There was a couch against the wall next to them, a television affixed to the wall adjacent to it, and a wooden coffee table. The separation into the kitchen looked both smooth but defined, with a long, marble island cutting through, several stools pushed in underneath. The kitchen appliances against the farthest wall shined as if brand new, never used.
“This is great,” she whispered, imagining how amazing it would be to cook there.
Though she had a lot of affection for her apartment with Regan, the reality was that the kitchen was so small, it didn’t really inspire culinary dreams for Sutton. This kitchen, however…
Charlotte softly cleared her throat, and Sutton swung her gaze back to where Charlotte stood, several feel away. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she gave Sutton a tight smile.
“Thank you. My bedroom is down there,” Charlotte pointed her thumb over her shoulder, where there was one more door all the way on the other side of the kitchen/living area. The opposite end of the apartment from Sutton.
Sutton felt a little pinch of nervous butterflies in the quiet that followed.
But Charlotte put a hasty end to that. “Given the time, I’ll likely just be in my room for the night. We have an early day.”
Sutton nodded, quickly. “Good idea. Yeah. Me, too.”
Ugh, she cringed at herself. Why couldn’t she simply have said one of those things?
Charlotte’s full lips tugged into a crooked smile, though. “Right.”
“Right,” she echoed, before clamping her lips shut.
Yeah, she needed to escape this before she did anything else weird while in Charlotte’s apartment. With that thought, she turned and high-tailed it to her room.
Well. The guest room.
***
By the time 11:30 rolled around that night, Sutton had unpacked everything.
She’d hung up the outfits she’d carefully packed for work, making sure there were no wrinkles. She’d discovered that there was also an entrance to the guest bathroom from her bedroom, which was a relief. So, she’d also showered and dried her hair, set up her toiletries.
She’d texted Regan about the situation, though her best friend hadn’t seen the message yet. Which was beyond strange. But Sutton supposed she was grateful; Regan’s reaction to this arrangement was the last thing she needed when she was trying to wind down and force herself to fall asleep.
She’d laid in bed over a half hour ago, though, and found that sleep eluded her.
So, she’d gotten up and organized all of her belongings on the desk in her room. And had then taken another moment to simply admire the space.
Even though it was just a guest room and clearly not the one Charlotte stayed in, it was perfectly appointed. The queen-sized bed was a perfect balance of soft, but firm. The sheets were clearly a high thread count. The closet… the closet was a dream. With built-in lights and shelving, Sutton’s mouth had gaped open when she’d opened it.
There was a sleek desk and rolling chair against one wall, with a television on the other, across from the bed.
It was probably nicer than any hotel Sutton would have stayed in, including the Fox and Hyde.
Huffing out a breath, Sutton summoned the resolve to do what she’d do anywhere else if she couldn’t sleep – go and make a cup of tea.
She assumed she was allowed to use the kitchen, right? Charlotte had told her to use the freaking laundry room, so the kitchen definitely felt like it was in-bounds.
Only, the kitchen was right next to Charlotte’s room. Where Charlotte was likely sleeping, soundly, and an edge of anxiety cut through Sutton at the idea of waking her up. The last thing she wanted was for Charlotte to regret letting Sutton be here.
Slipping on a pair of socks to protect her bare feet from the chill of the pristine hardwood floors in the living room/kitchen, she slowly twisted her doorknob open.
Then she rolled her eyes at herself – none of the doors in this apartment squeaked, just as none of the floors creaked. She’d already marveled over that.
Still, she slipped out of her room as unobtrusively as possible, walking lightly down the short remainder of the hall, before she turned into the darkened living area.
Squinting at the light switch on the wall, because there were five switches on it!, she hazarded a guess to flip the switch all the way to the left, closest to the kitchen area.
The kitchen, indeed, flooded with light. But Sutton couldn’t enjoy her victory.
Because, as she turned and took a step in that direction, she saw Charlotte sitting at the counter, and a shocked, alarmed shout escaped her, before she slapped her hand over her mouth to silence herself.
Heart pounding in her chest, she slid her hand to rest there, next, as she demanded, “What are you doing there?!”
Charlotte tilted her head, far calmer than Sutton was. “Why were you walking like you were a criminal in a cartoon?”
Cheeks flaming, Sutton refused to give into the embarrassment of the accurate assessment. “Because I thought you were sleeping, and I was trying to be polite and be quiet!” She whisper-shouted, using her free hand to gesticulate wildly around them. “I didn’t realize you were sitting right here in total freaking darkness!”
God!
“Well, similarly, I was trying to be polite in regards to you,” Charlotte returned, lifting her eyebrow at Sutton. “By not turning on the lights and potentially letting the light in from under your door. I don’t know how sensitive a sleeper you are. And I wasn’t in total darkness; there’s a light plugged in there.”
Charlotte pointed at the cute little mini-lightbulb nightlight that was, indeed, plugged into the outlet on the backsplash behind the countertop behind her. Which, fine, had likely illuminated the area where Charlotte was situated just enough for her to do whatever she was doing, but – still!
“You don’t share an apartment with my roommate and have delicate sleeping sensibilities,” she scoffed, relieved when she felt her heartrate return to normal. “So, don’t worry about turning on the light. You could even use the washer or dryer right next to the guest room, and it wouldn’t faze me,” she informed her, truthfully.
Understanding dawned over Charlotte’s expression. “Ah. Yes, nothing about anything I’ve heard regarding Regan screams calm and soothing.”
Sutton let out an answering laugh. Before she realized… if Charlotte was commenting on Regan, it meant that Charlotte must have listened and taken in all of the little comments Sutton had made over the last few weeks. She didn’t share personal stories super frequently, and they were always short, off-handed comments.
A surprised, pleased flutter worked through her stomach.
As she looked at Charlotte with a soft smile, though, Charlotte looked back at her with a small frown. A little line drew deep between her eyebrows. Sutton couldn’t quite place the look, exactly. Reproachful? Disapproving?
That pleased feeling dissipated, immediately, replaced with uncertainty. “Um… should I have stayed in my room?”
Charlotte snapped her eyes up to Sutton’s, her frown deepening even as she shook her head. “What? No, of course not. That’s ridiculous.”
Her words said that was ridiculous, but her tone…
As if Charlotte could sense Sutton’s thoughts, she added, “Is everything all right? With your room? I did a sweep through to make sure it was guest-ready before you arrived…?”
“The room is great,” she quickly assured her, stepping forward, closer to the kitchen. Hoping Charlotte could see how sincerely she meant that. “I just… am having a little bit of trouble falling asleep,” she admitted.
“Ah,” Charlotte breathed back. “I see.”
“So, I was just coming to see if you had any tea?” She ventured, biting at her bottom lip. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
“I do,” Charlotte informed her, before she offered a self-deprecating smile. “I’m not sure how much you’ll enjoy the selection; it was part of a package Dean and Caleb sent when I signed the lease.”
Sutton’s mind caught on the way she said Dean and Caleb, processing that. Because it sounded like… like Charlotte was saying Dean-and-Caleb, as a pair. A couple.
Oh.
Charlotte seemed entirely unaware of the casual way she’d just dropped that bit of news on Sutton, as she pushed herself to stand up from the counter.
And then Sutton’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt, and it absolutely nothing to do with Dean and Caleb or any man or anyone else. It had, entirely, to do with Charlotte Thompson.
Who wasn’t wearing anything close to her outfit from a couple of hours ago.
No, she wore a short pair of black shorts and a tight, dark green tank top pulled over the generous curve of her breasts. Her – Sutton almost swallowed her fucking tongue – braless breasts.
So. Apparently this was how Charlotte dressed when she believed she was going to be alone.
Holy hell.
Head slid through Sutton, unbidden and powerful.
Yes, obviously, she’d found Charlotte attractive before. She had eyes.
But this… seeing her like this was like seeing a whole new world. A world Sutton hadn’t even dreamed of, but now that she was standing in the middle of it, she wasn’t sure she’d ever forget about its existence.
She was so, so grateful when Charlotte turned her back to Sutton – clearly unaware of the fact that she’d short-circuited Sutton’s brain – to look through one of her cabinets in search of the tea.
Sutton shouldn’t look.
She…
She looked, her eyes falling to the curve of Charlotte’s butt in her shorts, and her breath caught in her throat.
Not only just at Charlotte’s ass, but at everything. At the way her long, glossy dark hair was loose and un-styled, falling in waves down her back. At –
Clenching her jaw, Sutton forced herself to avert her gaze.
Charlotte was her boss. Who was doing her a huge freaking favor by letting her stay here. She wasn’t going to treat her like some sort of object.
… but what an object, a voice that sounded far too much like Regan’s rang through her thoughts.
Frowning at herself in reproach, she pointedly looked down at herself, as if needing the visual reminder that she was wearing something relatively appropriate to stand in front of Charlotte.
And no, she wouldn’t call herself appropriate, exactly. But maybe slightly more than Charlotte?
At the very least, Sutton was wearing a pair of sweatpants, so she won that battle. She, however, was wearing her own thread bare tank top that was several years old and had been put through the washer/dryer a few too many times, resulting in the fact that it didn’t completely cover her midriff.
Blushing, she pulled her ace – where she was absolutely winning over Charlotte in the appropriate attire arena – and gripped the sides of her thin, cotton robe, quickly tugging it closed.
“A-ha, here it is.” Charlotte turned back around – pausing to briefly turn on the electric kettle on the island – as she placed the box of offerings on the island.
Sutton walked forward as if magnetized, closer to this brand-new view of Charlotte. And she knew she was very lucky to have the island concretely placed between them.
She furrowed her eyebrows, studying the tea far too intently. But she had to, because she was so close to Charlotte dressed like this, even if they did have the savior island between them.
Charlotte placed a mug in front of her as Sutton made her selection. Chamomile felt right.
“Do you typically have trouble sleeping?” Charlotte asked, quietly. Curiously.
Sutton darted her eyes up to meet Charlotte’s undeniably surprised by that curiosity. Charlotte wanted to know more about her. She was asking questions. Charlotte – in the last month – hadn’t done that, before. Not really.
Sutton knew she shouldn’t feel so absurdly honored by that. And yet…
“Um, no,” she honestly answered. On a normal night, she could fall asleep in a blink. “Not unless I’m in turmoil or something,” she explained further with an embarrassed laugh.
Why did she share even more detail? Was it simply because Charlotte was interested in knowing? Because it felt strange to be standing here, in the kitchen with her at midnight and then try to monitor herself? Either way.
Charlotte frowned. “Are you currently in turmoil?”
It was a great thing that she didn’t have a hot mug of tea in front of her yet, because she waved her hands out in front of her in a hasty denial. “No! No, I’m not.” Which was true. “I’m just… in a new place. It was a long day. Surprises abound.”
Not to mention, when she’d laid down in bed she’d been surrounded by Charlotte’s scent. Maybe not her perfume, but her laundry. Which made sense, obviously, because the bedding had clearly been done with the same detergent but…
But Sutton hadn’t ever anticipated breathing in Charlotte while she’d turned her face into her pillow.
And her stomach had tingled and she hadn’t know what to do with it, and – so, tea.
When the kettle alerted them that the water was ready, Charlotte turned and poured it into Sutton’s mug, before swiftly returning it to the countertop.
As she let her tea steep, she frowned at Charlotte’s own half-empty mug. “If you don’t drink tea, what is that?”
“Coffee,” Charlotte breezily returned, shooting a dismissive glance into her mug.
Sutton reeled back, eyes widening. “Charlotte! It’s almost midnight! You can’t–”
As tightly as she could, she clamped her lips shut in self-reproach. This wasn’t her business. Charlotte could do something insane like drink coffee at midnight the day before a super busy work week if she wanted to.
Yes, Sutton had made it her mission since working for Charlotte to make small attempts to improve her life, such as ensuring Charlotte actually ate lunch. But, technically, this wasn’t her business. In fact, it was only her business if Charlotte asked her to fetch her a coffee at midnight, in which case, Sutton would have to do so.
Charlotte laughed, heartily. Something deep and honest, and something Sutton heard far too infrequently. As if Charlotte really did feel the weight on her shoulders, especially at work.
The sound of it made her smile warmly, looking across the counter at Charlotte, who was grinning back at her.
“It’s fine,” Charlotte assured her, before she playfully winked and whispered, “It’s decaf.”
With that, she lifted her mug and took a long sip, as if making her point. As she did, she held Sutton’s gaze.
Sutton stared back, entirely too stuck on that wink, and the way it set off a flutter in her chest.
“Oh,” she breathed out, pointedly looking down at her tea.
What the hell was she doing? What was she thinking?
Get a grip.
Easier said than done while she was in Charlotte’s kitchen at freaking midnight, while Charlotte was wearing that.
“Do…” she had to clear her throat to make sure her voice didn’t tremble or anything. “Do you having trouble sleeping?”
She gathered enough courage to cast a look at Charlotte. She couldn’t be afraid to look at her fucking boss, no matter how attractive she was. But she was treading lightly, wondering how her own inquiry into Charlotte’s sleeping habits would go. Something that had nothing to do with work, just… curiosity.
Charlotte frowned, thoughtfully, before she shrugged. “Sometimes, yes.”
Sutton’s eyes widened in surprised at the honesty of Charlotte’s answer. Frankly, she’d expected Charlotte to deny any aspect of her life that might not be perfect, even if it was just her sleep schedule.
And she was completely riveted by the fact that she’d gotten a different response.
“Not because of turmoil,” Charlotte dismissed with a wave of her hand. “But because…” She sighed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tapped her fingers against the sides of the mug. “There’s always a lot on my mind. It can be difficult, at times, to turn off.”
Sutton really had climbed up in Charlotte’s trust tree, and the knowledge of that was so, so powerful. Aweing, in fact.
Charlotte darted her eyes up at Sutton before quickly looking away and murmuring, “Most difficult these days than not.”
She then pursed her lips closed, shaking her head at herself as her cheeks flushed. Sutton studied her, wondering what that meant.
Granted, she supposed it was just about – what most things were about with Charlotte: work.
“I’m not surprised by that, based on working with you.”
Charlotte blinked back at Sutton, refocusing on her than wherever she’d clearly gone in her mind. “Ah. Interesting to know how easily you’ve read me.”
Not at all, Sutton internally denied. She wished she knew more, actually. She’d wanted to know Charlotte more since before actually getting the job.
“Anyway – to continue in the spirit of honesty – I’m also not used to having someone here at night. So, that’s a very new thing for me.” She arched a look at Sutton, as if making sure Sutton didn’t mistake what she was saying.
And Sutton couldn’t possibly mistake the tone Charlotte used. Shock raced through her, immediately picturing Vanessa Logan in her mind.
Shock that Charlotte would bring that up, for one. But also shock at the idea that Charlotte… was implying that she didn’t have relationships with women?
Obviously, Charlotte wasn’t lacking for company in her bed.
And why would she be?
As soon as she registered that thought, she choked on the sip she’d taken.
“Does that surprise you?” Charlotte questioned, seemingly very interested in Sutton’s answer.
Blushing, she coughed to clear her windpipe, before denying on a gasping breath, “No!” She hesitated, knowing she wasn’t a good liar. “I don’t know. I… don’t know you very well.”
And that, at least, was the truth, and she didn’t even need to bring up Charlotte’s sex life in any way.
Charlotte rocked back on her heels, tilting her head at Sutton. There was an obviously confused frown sliding over her face, as she refuted, “I’d argue, actually, that you know me very well. Especially after yesterday.”
Sutton stared back, nonplussed. “I mean, yes, I know you’re a lesbian. But that doesn’t mean that I know you.”
When Charlotte rolled her lips, giving Sutton an inscrutable stare, Sutton could only stare right back in wonder. Did Charlotte actually believe that? Did Charlotte really feel that Sutton knew her very well just because Sutton knew about her sexuality and spent time with her at work?
Even though Sutton wanted to know Charlotte well, she didn’t.
And it made her a little… sad, really, to think that Charlotte might actually believe Sutton was – in any way – close enough to her to know her as a person in any sort of deep level.
Charlotte seemed to come to a conclusion in her mind, nodding slightly, before she informed Sutton, “The truth of the matter – and something I would like to clear up after that Vanessa Logan email – is that you shouldn’t be anticipating something like that, again. It was wildly inappropriate for that to come across your desk, and it will not happen again. Because I’m not… having company.”
She stated the words with such laden meaning, even Sutton couldn’t miss it.
No one would be reaching out trying to get in contact with her, because Charlotte wasn’t having sex with anyone, now. Her shocked thought a minute ago had been right.
“Oh.” Her voice was a little higher-pitched than she’d prefer, and she swallowed and forced a deep breath. “That’s – good to know.”
What? Why would she say that? “Just that, I mean, that nothing will be coming in through my inbox. Because that would be – you know – obviously inappropriate and none of my business.”
Vanessa Logan… absolutely stunning, tall, blonde. Meant for television, that was for sure. She wondered who else Charlotte would go for. She – no.
Pushing on from that before either of them could process anything she’d let fall from her mouth too much, she shook her head. “Um. I also just wanted you to know that… I’m really, really grateful that you’re letting me stay here. And I’m also really glad – and honored – to know about your sexuality. Even if your hand was somewhat forced into telling me.”
She could acknowledge that. The fact that Charlotte hadn’t told Sutton she was a lesbian just because she’d wanted to entrust Sutton with that news.
But still.
“I wasn’t forced,” Charlotte denied, her eyes boring into Sutton’s, intently. “I told you because… I feel I can trust in you. Like I said. If I didn’t believe in you, I could have denied it. Or, more aptly, never brought it up.”
Her heart flip-flopped in her chest, that soft feeling welling up inside of her.
And, once more, she felt the confession of her own sexuality wanting to escape. She wanted Charlotte to know that she understood, that her secret truly was safe. That she wasn’t alone.
But she rolled her lips, swallowing the words down.
Charlotte wasn’t hosting Sutton at her place because they were having some sort of slumber party; she was doing Sutton a favor because she was her assistant, and she expected Sutton to be at her side for work.
“Well, your trust wasn’t misplaced,” she said, instead. Hoping Charlotte could feel how much Sutton meant that.
She reached up and crossed a little x over her chest, only realizing too late that she probably looked like an idiot. She dropped her hand back down, face flaming.
But Charlotte merely looked at her with a small… almost… sweet? smile. Something very genuine, but something Sutton hadn’t yet seen before.
She couldn’t look away.
“Thank you,” Charlotte murmured, her voice so soft.
There was a soft side to Charlotte, Sutton realized in this very moment. It wasn’t something she’d thought of too much in the last month, but she’d, unavoidably, wondered what else there was to Charlotte than the decisive, willful, strong-spirited exterior she presented constantly.
There was a softness underneath. Something just under the exterior. And Sutton could only stare at Charlotte across the island counter, wondering how to see more of that.
After several moments, though, Charlotte seemed to realize what she was giving Sutton insight to, and shifted her gaze away. Looking, instead, over Sutton’s shoulder at the large, decorative clock Sutton had noticed on the wall in the living room – it was the only decoration Charlotte had hanging up. Which was the only thing that kept this apartment from being spectacular on every level.
“Ah,” Charlotte breathed, before she rolled her shoulders and…
It was fascinating, truly, to see how quickly and easily Charlotte shifted – even standing here in her pajamas at nearly one in the morning – into her more guarded self.
“We should probably go to bed,” Charlotte slid her gaze back to Sutton’s, arching an eyebrow at her.
Even though her comment was worded like a suggestion, there was a steel in her tone. Like she was Sutton’s boss, telling Sutton they were both to go to their respective rooms for the night.
Okay, then.
Nodding, if a little disappointed, she carefully wrapped her hands around her warm mug. Then paused, darting a questioning glance at Charlotte. “Do you mind if I have this in my room?” She flushed. “Er – the guest room?”
After all, this place was immaculate. She was fairly certain there had never been any food or drink in the guest room before, at all.
Charlotte shot her a look crossed between bafflement and laughter. “Of course not.”
She shrugged. “You never know. I mean, I think my asking that is no less weird than you sitting in here in the dark in case I’d wake up from the slightest bit of light under my door.”
As soon as the teasing comment left her mouth, she snapped her lips shut. Was it too much? Was –
Charlotte’s full, pink lips tugged into a full, bright smile, then. “Touche.”
Those dark eyes, studied Sutton for another moment, before Charlotte shook her head and turned in the direction of her bedroom.
She, somewhat reluctantly, did the same. Walking back toward the hall where her room was, pausing at the light switch she’d turned on that had started this. When she turned back around – just to see – she found Charlotte standing outside of her bedroom door, having turned to look at Sutton.
And for some reason, it made her cheeks heat and her stomach flip-flopped.
“Goodnight, Sutton,” was all Charlotte said, before she opened her bedroom door and slipped inside.
“Goodnight, Charlotte,” she echoed back just in time for Charlotte to close her door.
.
.
.
.
.
spoiler prevention
.
.
.
.
.
.