Guilty as Sin - 11 (Patreon)

EDIT: YALL I uploaded the wrong version of this at first, in which I was debating a different version of events.

My deepest apologies!

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

Chapter 11

“Unfortunately, Joe Collinswood is only able to reschedule tomorrow’s appointment for Friday morning. Should I agree and re-book our travel plans to return home Friday afternoon?” Sutton asked, looking up from where she was sitting across from Charlotte’s desk in her D.C. office.

She was rearranging Charlotte’s agenda with her laptop balance on her lap, at the ready to execute this SNAFU.

“Or would you rather I contact his office and let them know you’re unavailable Friday, and to reschedule for two weeks from now, when we’re back in D.C.?”

She tossed that in as an option, but she knew Charlotte was going to want them to stay until Friday. She was going to be irritated at Joe Collinswood for canceling at the last minute and derailing her schedule, but she’d wanted to have a meeting with the D.C.-based entrepreneur-slash-philanthropist for weeks, and she wasn’t going to take the chance that it would have to be put off for even longer.

The anticipation buzzed through her as she mentally predicted Charlotte’s exact response. The slight curling of her perfectly full bottom lip into something that Sutton was sure qualified as a pout, but Charlotte would detest that.

The way she’d then twist her lips to the side as she thought about it for a second, then agreed to the schedule change, after probably sighing.

Sutton knew that it gave her probably too much pleasure, knowing Charlotte this well. Being able to predict her expressions, her reactions.

She’d had to accept that having a crush on Charlotte – one that had been building without her conscious knowledge or agreement for weeks, if not longer – definitely drove her perverse enjoyment of such an insignificant thing.

But when mixed with her innate desire to do a good job? Well, that made Sutton’s pride in knowing Charlotte well and foreseeing her thoughts and her needs unstoppable.

There it was.

Charlotte’s lip poked out in that pout that was weirdly sexy for only a second, before she pursed her lips to the side.

And sighed.

“Let’s schedule for Friday. The last thing I want is for this meeting not to land on the books for another month,” she murmured in distaste.

Sutton managed to bite back her smile at the zing of satisfaction shot through her, and she nodded as she went to email Charlotte’s confirmation.

“Also, I’m not going to need you to accompany me to the event tonight,” Charlotte stated, her voice quiet but very commanding. Firm.

Baffled, Sutton snapped her head up, her fingers freezing on the keys of her laptop. Because she had not predicted that.

She arched her a confused look. “Are you sure?”

Charlotte did not back at her as she nodded. Instead, she was focused on the tabled in front of her, using one of her perfectly manicured fingertips to slowly scroll through a document. “Mhmm,” she hummed in affirmation. “After the meeting with Senator Ross, you’re free to do whatever you want for the evening.”

Sutton stared intently at Charlotte, willing her to look back up at her. Wishing she would. Wishing she could get a read on Charlotte’s expression.

Because her words were positive. From most bosses, that statement would sound like a good thing. Oh, a night off. Great.

But Charlotte’s tone was… it was dismissive, almost? Maybe that wasn’t quite right, but it wasn’t positive. If anything, it was flat.

And it made her feel dismissed.

“I don’t mind going,” she said, frowning intently at Charlotte. “It’s been on the agenda for a couple of weeks, so it’s not exactly like I have other plans.”

She tried to keep her tone light, cajoling.

But it was really hard, with the way her stomach was twisting in revolt.

Charlotte slowly shook her head, finally looking up at Sutton for the briefest of moments. “I’m sure. Enjoy your night off.”

Again, the words seemed like they should be positive, only Sutton felt like they were anything but.

It was Wednesday, so they were going on five days since she’d come out to Charlotte. Since she’d very unintentionally come out to Charlotte.

She’d known Charlotte had been acting… weird… for the rest of the fundraiser, once she found out. But she’d tried very hard to write it off. Tried very hard to tell herself that she was imagining things, that Charlotte wasn’t acting differently toward her.

She’d sat with that for the rest of the weekend, anxiety trying very hard to rear its head, and she’d pushed it down.

Because Sutton knew that she could be sensitive to things, that she could possibly read into things, especially when she felt awkward or uncomfortable.

And she had felt incredibly awkward about coming out to Charlotte like that. Because of Charlotte seeing her be hit on by another woman. It had been a ten-minute rollercoaster, that was for damn sure.

First, she’d been surprised but not unhappy about running into Alia.

Then she’d felt alarmed at giving Charlotte’s sexuality away, somehow. She didn’t know how that could have happened, but she knew from her limited interactions with Alia that she was extremely perceptive.

And then Charlotte’s reaction to Alia flirting with her had made her stomach erupt in butterflies.

Because she’d been so… protective. She didn’t want or need Charlotte to “protect” her, and definitely not from Alia. But the fact that her reaction had been to stick up for Sutton, believing that Sutton was being made to feel uncomfortable, was – it was unexpectedly sweet.

Definitely not a side of Charlotte she needed to see, that was for sure. Not on the heels of her realizing she had a ridiculous crush on her.

And yet.

With every day that had passed since this week had started, though, Sutton was growing less and less capable of writing Charlotte’s behavior off or telling herself that she was reading into something that wasn’t there.

On Monday, when they’d traveled to D.C., Charlotte had barely spoken to her. Even when they’d arrived at Charlotte’s apartment, they’d only talked about work, and it was all very terse.

Hell, even Sutton staying at Charlotte’s apartment had been weird, which made no freaking sense, because Charlotte had assured her weeks ago – after the first time she’d stayed here, and they’d bonded – that Sutton staying in her guest room made sense.

It did make sense for them, and they’d fallen into a really good pattern. Both in terms of working together and becoming friends.

For the last three days, though, Charlotte had made Sutton feel like she was an interloper. Like she’d invited herself here and couldn’t read the room.

Only, she hadn’t invited herself here. She worked here. And she wasn’t the one acting differently.

And it was hard to confront Charlotte, because she wasn’t being mean. She wasn’t being rude. She was… she was just acting like someone’s boss. Theoretically, it should be fine.

But the reality was that Charlotte was being weirder and less personable with her than she’d been even before they’d started bonding! Charlotte had been friendlier to Sutton during her first month of work than she was being, now.

Sutton was supposed to be going to the dinner party tonight. They’d devised a whole plan weeks ago, when they’d put it on the schedule.

How Sutton would use the hour after dinner while Charlotte was talking business with a few target contacts to chat up their assistants and be super friendly – actually, in Charlotte’s words, she’d wanted Sutton to “use that sweet, earnest face of yours to make sure they trust you, and know you aren’t duplicitous.” She’d grinned at Sutton slowly, in that ridiculously charming way that made her heart skip a head. “I should absolutely take advantage of this face,” she’d gestured to Sutton, running her gaze over her, “To my advantage.” – so they could compare notes afterwards, and make sure Charlotte wasn’t getting the runaround.

She hated this feeling in the pit of her stomach. This feeling of… rejection. Which made her feel insane, because Charlotte was her boss, and could decide whether or not she needed Sutton at a function.

Still, she couldn’t help but ask, “What about the plan?”

“It was a silly idea; I need to be able to read everyone’s expressions on my own. If I’m getting lip-service, we’ll know soon enough,” Charlotte dismissed, and there was a final edge to her voice.

Everything inside of her twisted into tight knots as she fell back against the chair, completely deflated.

***

Sutton couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her, as she flicked her gaze toward the door of Charlotte’s apartment, hearing someone walk by the door.

But Charlotte had been gone for hours. It was a dinner party, and it had started at five, for arrivals and pre-dinner drinks. Dinner was to be served at six. Even factoring in the post-dinner socializing and schmoozing, she typically would have left by eight-thirty, maybe nine.

Sutton had reviewed the guest list meticulously in preparation for the event – that obviously didn’t even matter, because she’d been unceremoniously uninvited – but… no one going to this gathering was a big drinker, or a late-nighter. It was a relatively small guest-list, obviously curated for the evening.

But it was after nine, and Charlotte was still not back. Which was fine, because she was a grown adult who owed Sutton nothing.

Only… she couldn’t help but feel like Charlotte was staying out deliberately later than she normally would so that she could avoid having an actual conversation with Sutton. She’d been working with Charlotte now for a couple of months; she knew what was typical behavior for her.

Staying super late to a small event that was relatively low-stakes was not typical.

Which just made her feel so… weird. Restless. Uncertain.

“Sweetheart, that was the third time you’ve sighed like that in the last fifteen minutes,” Katherine commented, her concern evident in her voice. “Is everything all right?”

She snapped her attention back to her phone. “Um, yes. Everything is fine.”

Aaaand she winced, because everything was not fine, and her mother could absolutely read her like a book.

Damage control.

She took a different tactic, quickly, before her mom could try to dig in. “It’s just… work stuff. Everything is fine, just stressful. That’s all.”

Even in her mom’s silence, she could hear her doubt. After a few seconds, though, she let out a thoughtful hum. “Well, if it’s work-related, you can always talk to me about it. Or, depending on the nature of the stress, your father. You know he would love to discuss politics with you.”

Sutton breathed out a laugh, forcing herself to stay present in this conversation. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

Lying right through her teeth. But she thought it sounded a little more convincing, at least.

Especially because her laughter at the suggestion was very real. She could only imagine sitting down to have a chat with her dad, under the guise of “work” only to tell him that it was about her interpersonal drama with Charlotte.

Oh, he’d listen and try to advise, but… ha.

The only thing funnier was the idea of laying it all out for her mother.

Who would take a lot of umbrage about the fact that Sutton was fairly certain she was being iced out by Charlotte because she was queer. Especially because her mom didn’t know Charlotte, too, was queer.

Yeah, her mother would rein hell upon Charlotte Thompson, and it would be very, very ugly. And likely very, very public.

She shuddered at the thought.

Clearing her throat, she decided that the best thing to do right now was make sure there was zero possibility of that happening. “Sorry to cut the call a little short, but there are a few emails I still have to answer before it gets too late.”

“Okay, hon. I love you.” There was still that skeptical note to her mom’s voice, but

“Love you, too. Talk to you soon.”

She hung up, tapping her phone against her palm as she cast a look around her room.

Er… around Charlotte’s guest room. That was temporarily “hers” three or four days a week when they were in D.C. Anyway –

Her eyes landed on the small desk that she’d organized, her laptop closed on top of it.

She absolutely did not have any work to do; she’d finished everything she could possibly be responsible for hours ago, when she’d been trying to keep her mind occupied.

Frowning down at her phone, warring with indecision, she debated whether or not she should call Regan.

Navigating conversations about Charlotte with her had become somewhat difficult. Not only because of Regan’s merciless teasing about Sutton’s crush, which she’d been unable to hide from her best friend. But also because Regan – much like her parents – didn’t know about Charlotte’s sexuality.

She truly did trust Regan implicitly; she knew that despite her penchant for being very chatty and a bit of a loudmouth – self-proclaimed – that she would never betray her confidence. Sutton’s, not Charlotte’s.

But it didn’t feel right to Sutton to share.

First, because it would bring Regan’s teasing to a whole new level. God, that was a big part of it.

Moreover, though, it really wasn’t Sutton’s right to tell anyone. Charlotte was closeted for a reason. For an understandable reason, unfortunately. She wanted Charlotte to know, without a doubt, that anything she disclosed to Sutton was held in confidence.

Even though it made the conversation a little trickier to navigate, she called Regan, anyway.

And she frowned at her phone when it rang more than four times.

Regan wasn’t working tonight, and she hadn’t told Sutton about any possible plans during the week. Regan was always chomping at the bit to talk. So –

Just before she was convinced the call was going to ring through, Regan answered.

“Sutton! Hi! Hello,” she spoke quickly, her voice a little breathy.

Baffled, she asked, “Are you okay?”

“What? Huh? Me?” Regan responded, absolutely confoundingly.

“Obviously…?” She racked her mind, trying to figure out what Regan would be doing, before deciding that she had so much on her plate trying to figure out what was on Charlotte’s mind, she had no energy trying to decode Regan, someone that she’d never had to decode. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on…?” Regan echoed in a murmur. “Uh. What’s going on…”

A genuine concern swiftly cut through everything else she’d been wrapped up in. “Regan, please tell me if you need help. If you broke something in the apartment, even if it’s my grandmother’s vase, you can tell me. If you tried mushrooms again even though you had a god-awful experience last time, you can tell me. In fact, if you aren’t already at home, please tell me, and I’ll call you a car to get you back.”

She really couldn’t think of another reason why Regan would sound so cagey.

“I didn’t try mushrooms again,” Regan denied, immediately. “And I definitely didn’t break your grandmother’s vase. I’m not an animal.”

The scoffing offense in Regan’s voice was very comforting to hear, and she let it settle through her, even though she remained suspicious.

“Okay…? So. What are you doing?”

“Right now, I’m not doing anything,” Regan stated, with a certainty in her tone that rang all of the alarm bells in Sutton’s mind.

“You’re being extremely weird. Like, way weirder than normal.”

She knew Regan’s baseline weirdness very well, and this was so not it.

“Sutton Victoria, I’m genuinely, seriously, truly fine,” Regan insisted. “And I can turn the tables right back: you aren’t fine, I can hear it in your voice. So, what’s going on with you? Wait, shouldn’t you be at some dinner thing tonight?”

She huffed out a breath, wanting to argue the point, but also knowing that if Regan had something going on but wasn’t being forthright with her, it very likely was a deeper-level issue. One Sutton wouldn’t be able to help resolve in a quick phone call.

And her issue was a bit more time sensitive.

“I…” She worried at her bottom lip, wondering how to approach this, before settling on just stating the facts. “You know how I told you about what happened last weekend? At the event I went to with Charlotte?”

Regan barked out an amused laugh. “Oh, you mean how you ran into that hottie from SapphicSpark and she hit on you and then you came out to your boss? Yeah, it rings a bell.”

“Right,” she muttered, dryly. “Well… long story short, this week so far has been really – weird,” not she settled on.

“Weird… how?”

“Weird as in it’s like – like I’ve been benched or something. Like I’ve done something to be put on some sort of probationary punishment. She’s not bringing me to events that I would have gone with her to just last week. Like you said, I should be at that dinner party tonight. She’s super short with me whenever we do talk. And even then, it’s strictly about work. There’s not even the semblance of small talk.”

In the last few weeks, they’d – they’d bonded. Charlotte had been the one to tell Sutton about her lack of friends, and how she’d come around to the idea that for them to really work cohesively together that they’d need to have a friendship.

Sutton had done literally nothing to deserve this abrupt switch!

“Hold the fucking phone. Is she being homophobic?!” Regan’s voice hit a new decibel, and Sutton had to jerk her phone away from her ear, even as she continued, “This is insane. Isn’t her brother, the one you said she’s close to, super gay?”

“He… is,” she confirmed hesitantly, feeling the need to hedge around the topic, as to not get close to disclosing something she shouldn’t, by accident.

“Do you think she’s got, like, crazy internalized misogyny? One of those women that’s fine with gay men, but gets weird around queer women? Like any woman that’s into other women are going to fall over themselves for her or something?” With every word Regan said, she clearly became more and more worked up. “This is absurd!”

Sutton was vehemently shaking her head, willing Regan to tire herself out. The genuine absurdity of it made her want to laugh, hysterically, far more than Regan could know.

Then she wanted to drop her head into her hands, because even if Charlotte did think that queer women would all fall over themselves for her… well, she wouldn’t be totally wrong. Sutton was Exhibit A. Exhibit B was that email she’d received from Vanessa Logan. She could only imagine the other examples she’d be able to find if she was granted a closer look at Charlotte’s social life.

Her closeted social life, that was.

And to cap it all off, she felt offended on Charlotte’s behalf.

“No,” she firmly shot down, barely able to keep her scoff in check. “Charlotte’s not like that, at all.”

“Hmm,” Regan hummed quietly, clearly in brainstorming mode. “And you’re sure you haven’t done anything? Which,” she hurriedly tacked on, “Is not an accusation, my little ginger starflower. I’m just trying to figure things out.”

She didn’t take it as an accusation at all. Mostly because she knew Regan would never jump to putting the blame on her, and also because she’d also wondered if she was the culprit.

But… “No. Things have been off since Monday morning, before I even had the chance to do something wrong.”

She’d combed through all of her communications to make sure.

“I’m really trying to think of ways this isn’t about her knowing I’m bi. But it’s really hard. I mean, she’s still not back from that dinner party, but I can practically guarantee you that if I’d gone with her, as planned, we would have been back an hour ago.”

“Ohhh, maybe this has nothing to do with you! Maybe she’s out late tonight because she met someone,” Regan suggested, and Sutton could hear the way she wiggled her eyebrows.

A laugh choked out of her before she could stifle it. “No,” she denied, simply. “That’s… not… no. She wouldn’t be doing that.”

“She went to a dinner party with some hotshots!” Regan’s exuberance echoed through the phone. “Maybe one of those dudes struck her fancy. She’s hot, and she’s single. How do we know where she gets her rocks off?”

She frowned so deeply it actually ached. “Because I know the guest list from the event. So, I know.”

None of the women attending the dinner tonight were Charlotte’s type, if she was using Vanessa Logan as a litmus. Besides, most of them were married and – at least to Sutton – seemed egregiously straight.

And she didn’t want to think about it anymore. “That’s not happening.”

“Fiiiine,” Regan sighed, heavily. “Okay, so… have you talked to her about it? Kind of seems like that’s the only choice you have left.”

Sutton groaned, dropping her head back. “No. Because there really hasn’t been an opportunity to.”

“You’re literally staying at her home, babe. And working with her every day.”

“And she’s been expertly maneuvering every situation we’re in away from anything personal,” she repeated. “When we’re here together, we get home late from work stuff, and she goes right to her own room.”

Plus… how did she bring this up to Charlotte without sounding weirdly clingy?

Poor me, because my boss hasn’t done anything technically wrong, but the vibes are off.

Yeah, she couldn’t say that. Even if she wanted to.

“Look, if she’s treating you like shit now that she knows you aren’t straight, I will come down to D.C. and personally have a word with her–”

“God, no,” she cut Regan off, sharply, the alarm bells ringing in the back of her mind. “You’re right. I need to talk to her.”

“You need to create the right atmosphere. Set the mood,” Regan suggested.

“Regan, this is not the time to bring up–” she abruptly cut herself off, feeling her cheeks heat at the mere idea of speaking her feelings for Charlotte to fruition here, in Charlotte’s home. “That,” she finished in a whisper.

“Hey, I wasn’t bringing your crush into this, cross my heart,” Regan defended. “I’m being serious. You have to create the right environment so she has to talk to you.”

That felt manipulative, even in theory.

And yet, when Charlotte came home that night and slipped by Sutton’s room without a word in her direction… she knew what she had to do.

***

“The other member of your party has already been brought back, it seems,” Irina, Sutton’s massage therapist, said to her as she led her down a hall.

She gave her a small smile. “Thank you for letting me know.”

Anticipation laced through her veins as they walked toward the room Sutton would be getting her massage in.

The atmosphere, in Regan’s words, was absolutely perfect.

The spa at the Fox and Hyde was – at least, from the very limited view Sutton had glimpsed so far – was as luxurious as advertised. The dimmed lighting, the soft music drifting from unseen speakers, the décor… all of it screamed relaxation.

Charlotte had sent her an email this morning, letting Sutton know that she’d arranged a last-minute breakfast with one of the other attendees at the dinner party last night. In which she’d also informed Sutton there was no need for her to attend.

So, Sutton had done something she wouldn’t ordinarily do, and channeled her inner-Regan. She’d sat at her desk in the D.C. office while Charlotte was out at her meetings without Sutton, pondering.

How could she manipulate a situation to force Charlotte to talk to her?

She needed to get them out of a work setting, that was for sure. But she also thought it would be a good idea not to broach the topic in Charlotte’s home. That seemed… too personal.

A third-party location, somewhere that was private and upscale. Not a restaurant, where they could run into anyone.

Because of Collinswood’s canceled meeting, though, Charlotte’s afternoon was free and clear.

And Sutton had been struck with the thought: she had a voucher for the spa. What better way to lull Charlotte into a sense of calm than by actually making her calm?

Not only that, but Fox and Hyde also had small, private rooms for tea time, right near the spa.

She’d had to do something else she didn’t love doing when she’d called: name dropping. There was no other way she’d be able to get them in on such short notice.

It didn’t make her feel good at all, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And she was desperate, because she was half-sure she was going to be fucking fired soon!

“Here we are,” Irina said, drawing up at the last door in the winding hallway they’d walked down. She reached down and opened the door, revealing the interior.

A spacious room with lovely aromatics and even dimmer lighting. A closed door was to the left, and…

Sutton frowned in confusion, turning to face Irina after stepping into the room. “Um – why are there two beds?”

Irina frowned back at her, seemingly just as confused. “This is a couples massage. Your companion should already be here,” she murmured, glancing around the room.

Sutton’s mouth fell open, her stomach dropping out as she shook her head so hard she was shocked the bun she’d twisted her hair into didn’t completely dislodge. “No! No! This isn’t a couples massage. I – I received two massages, not a couples massage!”

Oh god.

This was why she should never take advice from Regan.

Irina’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ah… that is not what was input to the system.”

“The other woman in my party isn’t my companion,” the word fell from her lips, making her feel a little dizzy. “She’s my boss. I can’t – we can’t have a couples massage!”

Fuck. Oh, no.

What if Charlotte thought –

The horror of it shot right through her, ice sliding through her veins.

“Can you – can you put me in a different room? Before she gets here?” Yes, she could hear the desperation in her own voice, but she couldn’t care.

Irina seemed to grasp the situation, at least, as her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. I… see. I apologize for the error.” She pursed her lips in a sympathetic wince. “I don’t believe we have any other available rooms, given the last-minute booking. We can go speak to Meg in reception?” She offered.

Sutton nodded, quickly.

Before she glanced around the room, able to see her plan falling apart around her.

Charlotte was going to come into this room and see the two beds and immediately be suspicious. It would have the total opposite effect from what Sutton was aiming for, here.

“Um… I think I should maybe wait here, so I can explain the mix-up to my boss, in person. Is that okay?”

She needed Charlotte to know that this was an accident. She needed Charlotte to hear it from her that while this might have been a slightly manipulative situation, it wasn’t this crazy.

The literal last thing she needed was for Charlotte to think she’d engineered this or was in some way trying to make a move on her.

She was going to be sick.

Irina nodded. “The room is yours,” she gently assured. “Why don’t you sit tight, and I’ll check on the status of the other rooms?”

“Thank you. So much.”

She dropped her head into her hands as Irina softly closed the door behind her, groaning.

Why? Why did this kind of thing happen to her? She tried, hard, to be a good person. She –

She jumped when she heard the sound of the door next to her, inside the room, open, snapping her head up in alarm.

Only for her eyes to widen, the shock coursing through her, when Charlotte exited the adjoining room.

“Oh my god!” She breathed out, knowing that she was staring but unable to help herself.

She was frozen. Completely frozen.

Charlotte was standing there, having already wrapped herself in the sheet from one of the beds. She wasn’t wrapped in the plush robe that Sutton was wearing, not anymore.

She’d knotted the thin white bedsheet between her breasts, just barely covering her, leaving the smooth expanse of her chest and shoulders bare. Her long, thick chestnut brown hair was gathered up at the top of her head, a few wavy strands falling down against the elegant line of her neck.

“Sutton!” Charlotte gasped, more surprised than Sutton typically ever heard her. “What are you doing in here?!”

She snapped out of her trance, her face on fire, as she looked into Charlotte’s eyes. “I – I – where were you?”

“I was in the bathroom,” Charlotte answered, gesturing behind her.

She looked at Sutton, then beyond her, running her eyes over the rest of the room. Sutton could literally see the dawning in her eyes, before they widened and snapped at her.

“I’d just assumed this was their default set up. Did you book a–” Charlotte seemed to choke on the word “couple” and Sutton had to be grateful for it, because it gave her the opportunity to jump in with her defense.

“No! I didn’t! I promise you, I didn’t,” she swore, the anxious butterflies in her stomach going absolutely crazy.

“I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this schedule change,” Charlotte muttered, tightly closing her eyes.

Sutton could see the tension in her bare shoulders.

“I did not do this, Charlotte,” she stated with more authority than she knew she had, but needing Charlotte to hear her, to believe her.

Those golden-brown eyes snapped open at her tone, widely.

“I didn’t think you were even in here yet; your massage therapist isn’t here!” She lifted her hands, gesturing around them, a little wildly. “I was only staying in here because I wanted to tell you that I didn’t do this. I’m going to leave so you can get the massage I scheduled for you. Okay?”

Charlotte’s full lips pulled into a contemplative frown as she ran her eyes over Sutton’s face. “Okay,” she eventually agreed. “My massage therapist noticed that the hydration station hadn’t been properly restocked, so she left to go take care of that, since I was a little early.”

Sutton accepted that with a nod, her stomach tied in knots over not only this… situation… but because of the last week, and before she could allow herself to take a step toward the door, the words slipped right out from her mouth, “I’m sorry about the miscommunication. But I only even booked this in, because I needed to orchestrate a situation for us to be able to have a talk. I thought… I thought maybe, if you were relaxed and calm, that we could do that.”

Charlotte arched one of her perfect eyebrows at her. “What do you mean? We talk daily.”

Sutton’s mouth fell open, disbelief stealing her ability to speak for several long seconds. “Oh, do we?” She managed out, incredulously. “We have spent at least ten hours a day together this week, and you haven’t once spoken to me for longer than one or two sentences. You talk to me like you barely even know me. Like you don’t even trust me to operate as your assistant, anymore.”

Feeling that fire work through her, she tightly crossed her arms and angled her chin down at Charlotte. “I didn’t think that I’d experience some sort of workplace discrimination over my sexuality from you, of all people.”

She was careful not to state Charlotte’s sexuality aloud while they were in public, even in this closed, private room, but she knew that Charlotte obviously knew what she was getting at.

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in clear offense. “Workplace discrimination?” She echoed, skeptically. In a tone that would have made Sutton question herself at nearly any other time. “Are you kidding me?”

Having Charlotte speak to her like that, like Sutton was being crazy, almost made her second guess herself. But… no. She wasn’t wrong, about this. She wasn’t.

Holding tightly to that, in spite of the anxiety that wreaked havoc inside of her, she stood firm. “No. I’m not kidding you. Since the moment you found out I’m bisexual, you’ve been acting differently. Colder. You… you went out on a walk with me to help me get into a better mental health space. We’ve shared stories about what we’re doing after work. We talked. And now… you barely even looked at me all week. You’ve cancelled my going to meetings and events with you.”

And, god, it made her feel all twisted up inside, the distress of losing this aspect of her relationship with Charlotte. She had no delusions that anything would ever happen between them, even while being aware of her crush. But she wasn’t holding out for that, either.

She didn’t want to lose… this. She felt like she was growing, and she felt like Charlotte was a big part of that.

Two months ago, she was uncertain about what her future held or how she would fare. But she felt like she was doing well, and she was enjoying her life.

She stared Charlotte down, imploring her to just be honest, as she quietly asked, “What would you refer to the way you’re acting, then? If I’ve done something, then please – tell me. But, if not…?”

Charlotte worked her jaw back and forth, a muscle twitching next to her mouth with how tightly her lips were pursed.

Finally, she let out a soft, hoarse laugh, one that was devoid of any real lightness or humor, as she brought her hand up and rubbed at her temples. “Fuck.”

The word was breathed out, so quietly, but it still startled her. It was so rare that Charlotte let herself devolve from perfectly polished.

Charlotte took a few steps to the right and leaned back against the edge of the massage table. The tension was still vibrating off of her, but her shoulders slumped slightly, as she looked back up at Sutton. “I suppose there has been some… distance. But not discrimination the way you’re thinking.”

Sutton hesitated for a moment, before she walked over to Charlotte, leaning against the table right next to her. She didn’t really know how she felt, hearing Charlotte admit to it.

Before she could even try to figure out how to put that into words, Charlotte turned her head to look up at her. “Why didn’t you come out to me, earlier? Why didn’t you come out to me when I…?” She trailed off, arching her eyebrow meaningfully at Sutton.

When I came out to you, Sutton could easily fill in that blank.

“Because…” She shrugged. “It was such a big moment, for you. Why should I take a moment that was about you disclosing something about yourself, and then make it also about me?” She asked, quizzically. “Even more than that, to your point when you told me, your sexuality could have possible relevance to me. I’m supposed to be here, right behind you. I’m your first line of defense. So, your life is relevant to me. But I didn’t think my life held the same relevance to you.”

She searched Charlotte’s gaze with her own, baffled.

“And would it have made a difference?” She pushed. “Wouldn’t you still have hired me if you knew I wasn’t straight?”

This had been what she’d been trying to make sense of all week. Charlotte had confided in Sutton about her sexuality and her vulnerable thoughts on life. Why was it different and more complicated, somehow, by Sutton being bi?

Charlotte was quiet, though, for far too long. Before she drew in a long breath, and said, “Probably.”

Shocked, she reeled back, her mouth dropping open in offense. “Probably?!”

Charlotte stared right back at her, clearly unrepentant. “Yes, probably. Because I don’t want to be a part to discrimination. But I wouldn’t have let myself become closer to you, the way we’ve become.” There was a tightness to her voice, a fire and a certainty, and it burned right through Sutton.

And… oh. Oh, wow.

Sutton sat heavily back on her massage table at the revelation. She’d known it, on some level, because of how Charlotte had been acting. But she hadn’t actually…

She hadn’t thought of how much it would hurt to know that.

“You wouldn’t have become my friend if you knew I was bi?” Sutton asked, softly. Trying to wrap her head around it, around how hurt her feelings were over that.  

Maybe – definitely – too hurt.

Charlotte is quiet for a long moment, before she let out her own deep sigh.

“It’s not because you’re queer.”

Sutton nailed her with a hard look. “You literally just said otherwise.”

“Sutton,” Charlotte’s tone was utter exasperation. “You know what a tightrope I’m walking, when it comes to balancing my career and who I am. My biggest secret, the one thing I need to keep under wraps, is my sexuality. Becoming closer to you as a friend – being seen with you and clearly being friendly with you, beyond a clear-cut professional relationship – when I believed you were straight… it’s a lot safer, for me.”

What Charlotte was saying finally started to click.

“People’s perception of us being closer, if they know I’m bi…” She trailed off, the understanding finally dawning on her.

Charlotte sighed again, reaching up and rubbing intently at the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes. “Yes, that’s certainly been a big factor on my mind this week. As two women, we can… get away with certain things. Like, you staying in my second bedroom. I’m, much to my own chagrin, not very high on the political totem pole yet. And as two women that people perceive as straight, it’s really not something our peers will question.”

She stared up at Sutton, intently. Willing her to read between the lines.

Which, for the first time all week, she felt like she could.

“I see,” she murmured, the cogs in her mind turning. “For the record, though, very few people know I’m bi,” she assured Charlotte. “Like, very few. Up until this time last year, I’d only ever dated men.”

“Regan knows,” Charlotte stated, some humor finally seeping back into her voice.

She let out a light laugh, jostling her shoulder against Charlotte’s lightly. Charlotte’s… bare shoulder.

That laughter cut off in a matter of seconds, stopping in her throat as she stared down at her.

Charlotte’s skin was practically glowing in the atmospherically lit room, and looked so incredibly soft. She could feel how warm she was, even through the arm of the robe she was wearing.

Charlotte’s… was naked, under her sheet. Just like Sutton was, under her robe.

Her robe, that had dipped open, unintentionally, into a deep V that ended just between her breasts.

She swallowed, hard, blinking widely at Charlotte as she quickly adjusted her robe, clearing her throat as she felt herself blush.

Charlotte lifted a very knowing eyebrow at her, her lips pulling into a sly smile. A smile that was entirely too knowing.

The very sight of it made Sutton’s heart pound – she hoped Charlotte couldn’t feel it somehow – and her stomach bottomed out and heat arced through her veins.

Oh, wow.

Okay, so. So, this was how Charlotte looked at other queer women, apparently. Like they were in on something – something delicate, something delicious, something beautiful, something hot – together.

It was different than how Charlotte had looked at her, before. Not in an obvious way, but… the slightest micro-expression could make all the difference.

And it was very, very powerful.

Charlotte wasn’t even hitting on her – not even close – and it was this heady. Like. What?!

“Yes,” she drawled. “This, you see, is how things become more complicated.”

“Uh… yeah,” she whispered, feeling very ill-equipped to handle whatever this was right now.

Sure, she’d been with a woman.

But Charlotte was – Charlotte.

In this moment, Sutton was acutely aware of the fact that having been with a woman would be nothing in comparison to being with Charlotte.

“And it someone came through that door,” Charlotte’s voice was soft, as if lulling Sutton in, but with a firm edge underneath. She gestured to where their massage therapists would enter back through, any second now. “And saw us sitting close like this, wearing very little by way of fabric between us… it would be questionable. But, most likely, they would assume we are two straight women, and would think nothing of it. But if they knew we were both queer… that would be a very, very bad look for me.”

That was a much-needed splash of cold water through Sutton’s veins, and she closed her eyes at the harsh slap of reality. “Right.”

And, even more than that, she felt the sympathy well up inside of her.

No, she wasn’t under any illusions that Charlotte had the same feelings for her that she held for Charlotte. Not that she had real feelings, but just, her crush!

But Charlotte didn’t have the luxury of those feelings. Not for Sutton, not for anyone else.

She didn’t even have the luxury of people speculating about it.

Sutton sat with that, nodding to herself, before she stood up.

“I’m going to leave, before your massage therapist comes back. Um, I booked us one of those private tea rooms, after. But we can just leave.”

Charlotte stared intently back at her, eyebrows furrowed slightly. She shook her head, blowing out a long breath. “No, it’s… fine. I’ll see you there in an hour.”

She reached for the doorknob, turning to look back at Charlotte. Resolutely not focusing on her revealed skin – because that would be bad – but just at her face.

At the slight vulnerability that she’d allowed Sutton to see over the last several weeks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, earlier. But…” She waited until Charlotte looked her in the eye, again. “I don’t regret that we’ve started to become friends. I don’t regret working for you, or getting to know you.”

Charlotte’s big, brown eyes searched hers, before she said, in a voice so quiet Sutton could barely hear her over the soft music playing, “I don’t, either.”

***

An hour later, she opened the door to their tea room, practically vibrating with energy.

Charlotte was already seated at the small two-person table. She’d redressed, but not in the suit she’d undoubtedly worn to work, that she’d then worn to the spa. Instead, she was wearing a floral midi dress – casual, but most definitely designer. Perfect to wear for when they left, out in the D.C. summer heat.

Sutton held her breath as she shut the door behind her, wondering what Charlotte’s energy would be like.

She turned to face Sutton, arching her a look. “You seem to be… excited?” She asked, narrowing her eyes slightly as she ran them over Sutton, as if trying to put a finger on exactly what Sutton’s mood was. “I take it your own massage was relaxing?”

That seemed – promising? It wasn’t terse or cold. There seemed to be a curiosity in Charlotte’s gaze.

“I didn’t have one,” she informed her. “They only had that one room available, so I actually had a facial instead. And I am excited. Because I’ve come up with a plan.”

“A plan?” Charlotte asked, and, yes, her tone was definitely entertained. “What kind of plan?”

Sutton glanced around, ensuring that they were alone.

The large window that overlooked the city made the room seem large and bright and airy, even though it was quite small. The drink and food spread that came with booking this room was already here, artfully arranged. No one else was here, and likely wouldn’t be back for at least forty-five minutes.

She quickly walked over to take the seat opposite Charlotte, as she triumphantly stated, “I just won’t date.”

It was that easy. Now that she knew what Charlotte’s hang-up was – simple.

Charlotte’s eyebrows furrowed together, as she leaned back. “Excuse me?”

She waved her hand in the air, dismissing the confusion. “You’re worried that someone might know that I’m queer, and be suspicious of you and I being close, being friends. So… I won’t date. Voila.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” Charlotte murmured, shaking her head. “Sutton, that’s – let’s be realistic. I’m your boss; I can’t have you not dating because of me. That most certainly goes into a weird and unprofessional territory.”

“But you didn’t ask me not to,” she countered. “I don’t even know when I’d have the time to date, anyway.”

She aimed a meaningful stare at Charlotte. The reality was, when Charlotte was working, she was working, which meant ten to twelve hour days. At least two or three weeks a month, they were in D.C. for the majority of the week. That wasn’t even counting the weekend events. And that wasn’t even taking into account Sutton spending time with Regan or Emma or seeing her family.

Quite literally, she had no idea when she’d have the time.

“I just date,” she stated again, with absolute certainty. “I mean, you decided not to be on dating apps and to focus on work; I’ll do the same. After all, I wanted to work with you to learn from you,” she joked. But… not really.

“Ah, but you’re forgetting one core tenet that’s actually very important to the point you think you’re making,” Charlotte said, leaning back in.

As if a moth to a flame, Sutton mirrored her. “Which is?”

“I was never on dating apps with the intention of dating.” A little smirk slid into place as Charlotte sent her a look, and Sutton…

Well, she wasn’t standing, but she if she was, she almost certainly would have tripped over her own two feet.

Feeling her face flame, she ticked her lips into a smile, letting out a nervous titter of a laugh.

“Ah… right.”

Charlotte tightly closed her eyes, sitting back in her chair, as if inwardly lecturing herself. Giving council on something Sutton was entirely unaware of.

Finally, she rolled her shoulders back and looked at her again. “I… Sutton, I told you I have a hard time making friends. Which is for many reasons. As you just said, there’s hardly enough time to try to maintain a relationship – however platonic it is. And I don’t,” she rolled her lips, that genuine, vulnerable edge that gripped Sutton right in the chest whenever she saw it on Charlotte, sliding onto her face. “It’s difficult for me to develop a level of trust. To wholly believe someone isn’t being duplicitous, to buy into someone’s honesty.”

She drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair, looking deceptively casual. But Sutton could see it wasn’t. Every time her fingertips hit against the wooden edge, it was measured and deliberate. Every move she made was something she was thinking about.

“I believe that, about you,” Charlotte finally finished, her voice so unbelievably soft. “I’d settled into this friendship with you, with the facts I had about you.”

“This doesn’t change anything, though,” she insisted, needing Charlotte to see that. “But what I think you’ve been deciding is that I can still work for you, but if I’m out and dating and drawing the wrong kind of attention to us having any sort of friendship, then we can’t have that friendship – then, I’m telling you that there’s a fix for that. I won’t be dating.”

It seemed so simple to her, like the easiest fix in the world. If that was Charlotte’s concern, then… she could be unconcerned, now.

“Oh, Sutton,” Charlotte sighed out, shaking her head slightly as a small smile curled at her lips.

She narrowed her eyes in silent question, waiting for Charlotte to elaborate.

She didn’t, though.

“So, SapphicSpark is your app of choice?” She asked, instead, tilting her head to the side as she raked her gaze over Sutton.

She shivered from it, from the appraising look in her eyes.

“Um… well, kind of. Yes.” She rolled her eyes at herself, huffing out a breath. “Regan was the one that downloaded it, and then also signed me up for that speed dating event.”

“Ah, the one where you met Alia.”

“Right,” she let out a slightly embarrassed laugh, reaching up to take one of the small cookies from a tray. “What was your app of choice? When using them, of course.”

Charlotte took a sip of her tea, keeping Sutton in suspense, before she answered, “SapphicSpark.”

Sutton’s eyes widened, even though she knew it shouldn’t be a surprise. But… it was the very idea that – in some way – she and Charlotte had been using the same app, looking for women…

It made her swallow, hard.

“Well, darling, if your choices in women are anything like the Kyle situation, at the very least, I can offer some insight in the female dating pool.”

Darling.

She hadn’t known she’d been waiting to hear that word return, dropping from Charlotte’s lips like honey, until she heard it just now. A relief, so strong, so swift, melted through her, making her smile widely with it, her heart fluttering.

“I thought you weren’t looking for dating,” she teased, hesitantly. “So, how could you help me? If I was going to date any time soon. Which I am not.”

“I know how to read a dating profile in about five seconds, flat. Trust me; there are just some things I’m naturally good at. Gifted, you could say.”

She… yeah, she could believe that. Very, very easily.

She coughed, bringing herself back to the moment. “Um. So, if you think about it, you could say that this is something good for us. Something we have in common, something we can talk about. It might even be something we can bond at, even more.”

Charlotte bit at the inside of her cheek, before she let out a quiet laugh, maybe slightly strained. “I suppose we will see about that.” She shook her head, a different interest sparking in her eyes as she asked, “I do have to tell you that I’m fascinated by the idea of the speed dating. How did that work?”

She smiled back, feeling a sense of calm. This was going to be okay. Right?

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