Midnight Rain: a Those Who Wait story, page 5
“They’ve been staring at me like I’m insane all afternoon, for starters.”
“Well, what are you doing?” he asked in a way that implied he was entertaining the idea.
“Changing my blazer.” Four times.
Caleb was quiet for a few beats before asking, “Does this have anything to do with Sutton Spencer writing your biography?”
Charlotte tossed her hand into the air. “I told your loudmouth husband to keep that to himself.”
“And he would never withhold that from me!” Caleb laughed raucously in her ear. “Oh, lord. You are going to meet Sutton Spencer today for her to write your biography, and you’re probably standing in that ostentatiously large office and trying on all of your fabulous blazers.”
Charlotte forced herself to stop fidgeting with her fucking outfit, especially because her brother could clearly see what she was doing from states away. “Must you full-name her whenever you say her name?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because it makes you sound crazy. We are just two…” She stared at herself in the mirror, thinking back to a week and a half ago when Sutton had been in this very office. They were simply professional women, with a bit of a personal history.
I don’t know you, Sutton’s words replayed in her head as they had many times in the last ten days.
Charlotte wouldn’t have thought that would sting, but it had. To her, Sutton was the only person who had ever known her intimately.
“We’re just two professionals,” she stated.
Caleb scoffed so loudly, it rang in her ear. “Professional! The last thing you think about Sutton Spencer is professional.”
“It’s been thirteen years, Caleb.” Exasperation rang through her tone. “I can be professional with her.”
“But you’ll want more. You’re opening a door, Charlotte. That’s why your assistants were looking at you like that. Dean told me that you requested Sutton Spencer after you saw her at that thing.” He sobered for a second, before he asked, more quietly, “What are you doing?”
“Having dinner with my biography writer,” she shot back smartly, even as her stomach turned.
The truth was, for the first time in her adult life, Charlotte truly didn’t know what she was doing. She hadn’t really thought it out when she’d requested Sutton to be her writer.
Her thought process started and stopped with this unquenchable desire to not lose Sutton completely before they could even talk or reconnect or, or… she didn’t know.
The truth was that she just did not know what she was doing or what she intended to come out of this. At the very least, she did trust Sutton’s insight and her writing abilities, and that was all she truly did have at the moment.
“Okay…” Caleb trailed off before he cleared his throat. “I mean, you are out now.”
“I’m aware.” She really, really was. She glimpsed at the antique clock on her wall. “Shit.”
She now only had twenty minutes to get to the restaurant… and in this traffic? Charlotte never made a habit of running late, and the last person she wanted to be late for right now was Sutton.
“I have to go. Tell your husband he’s a rat and I’ll talk to you both soon.”
Sutton beat her to the restaurant.
Charlotte almost cursed under her breath, but then her breath caught in her throat. The sight of Sutton sitting at a table in Charlotte’s favorite restaurant, her hair delicately tucked behind one ear, as she typed out a message on her phone was literally breathtaking.
“Senator Thompson! Your table is ready, and the other member of your party is already seated.” The host shook her out of her thoughts. “Would you like me to take you to the table?”
Charlotte blinked a few times, taking herself out of the moment as she shook her head. “I—no, that’s quite all right. Thank you, Arnold.”
That feeling fluttered in her stomach as she approached, the one she’d felt tinges of all day. What was it? It struck her then—nerves. She was nervous! To have dinner with Sutton, even in a professional capacity. Of course.
The idea was so absurd to her, she couldn’t help but chuckle minutely. She’d been nervous on her election night, but it hadn’t felt quite the same. Professionally, Charlotte was solid. She knew she was. Even if she couldn’t get a bill to pass or had she lost an election, she could control those things. She was capable.
Sutton looked up at her then, fingers freezing on her phone, as Charlotte stood a few feet away.
With this new territory, she had to admit the ground was less than stable beneath her feet.
Shaking herself out of it, Charlotte cleared her throat. “Sorry I’m late.”
Sutton waved her off. “It’s only a few minutes; I assume you had some giant filibuster or congressional emergency?”
She was joking. Charlotte hadn’t known what to expect, after their last encounter, but she hadn’t anticipated Sutton’s little jokes. Their last meeting had been charged and entirely unexpected, though in all honesty, Charlotte couldn’t have said what she’d expected either.
As promised, in their contact since, Charlotte had personally reached out to Sutton to set up their twice-weekly meetings, but their conversations had always been very short.
She relaxed into a smile. “Yes, actually. I’ve fixed the entire infrastructure of the country.”
“Just in time for dinner.” Sutton sent her a soft grin.
A piece inside of her relaxed, and the feeling of it utterly baffled Charlotte. She hadn’t known what to anticipate at all, and because of that, she hadn’t been able to predict her own reactions.
Then again, she’d often not known what to expect with Sutton in their past, even when she thought she did. Maybe that was a part of her appeal?
It definitely was. Charlotte just hadn’t experienced it in so long.
Sutton’s phone lit up again, and Charlotte watched as blue eyes looked down to skim the words on the screen, a smile tugging at her lips as she did.
“Do you have to respond? It’s all right if you do.” Charlotte wanted to ask, desperately, who it was. Who made Sutton smile like that.
But Sutton shook her head. “It’s just Regan, telling me something Lucy said.”
“Your daughter.” Charlotte tasted the words the same way she had when she’d learned of the daughter in question.
She didn’t know why she’d been surprised; Sutton had always wanted children. It only made sense that she now had one.
“Is she your only child?”
Sutton nodded before she let out a soft sigh. “I would’ve had more, but—” She cut herself off, blinking as if keeping herself from saying too much.
Only nothing could be too much. Not for Charlotte. With every single word Sutton said, Charlotte found herself sitting more at attention.
“But?” she urged.
Sutton hesitated before she shook her head again. “It’s not important.”
“Of course it is, if it is to you.”
Sutton stared at her for a few moments, mouth slightly open, and Charlotte held those blue eyes with hers. In much too short a time, Sutton’s eyebrows furrowed, and she cleared her throat. “No, this is a business meeting.”
Charlotte had to bite the inside of her cheek. “Right.” She had agreed to it, after all. She gestured for Sutton to continue.
And continue she did. Sutton pulled out her iPad, a brand-new voice recorder, a notebook, and two pens. The page she flipped to in the notebook was already covered in her neat and tidy handwriting, and she tapped her long fingers against it.
“All right, I’ve done a bit of research in the last week around how to best write this manuscript. Obviously, we need to start with my getting your information. I figure that we can, at least for the first bit, do our info sessions, and then I can write a bit in my off days to see which style we’d prefer.”
Charlotte gamely nodded. “You’re the creative genius; I will defer to you.”
Truthfully, this biography had not been her idea, nor was it something she’d particularly wanted to do. In fact, she’d turned it down multiple times when she’d first been approached during her campaign.
She had no idea how to properly do this.
“You deferring to me… that’s a new twist for us,” Sutton murmured as she uncapped a pen. It seemed she didn’t realize what she’d said—that is, until her eyes widened as she cleared her throat and deliberately stared down at the notebook.
Charlotte leaned back in her chair, saying her thanks to their waiter for delivering the water, wine, and chef’s special that was always prearranged for her, even as she kept her eyes on Sutton. A slow smile tugged at her lips.
Oh, yes.
Sutton closed her eyes, shook her head slightly, and pursed her lips. “So”—she reopened her eyes—“I want to know: Would you rather go chronologically or by topic?”
“I think topical would suit best, for my memory purposes.”
Sutton nodded. “I thought so, too. I have a plethora of areas to cover…” She hesitated, her gaze landing on Charlotte. “Though I should ask how personal you want to get. I know that—” She paused, clearing her throat in an adorably awkward way. “You aren’t— Your personal life… It used to be… private.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but smirk. “And here I thought we didn’t know one another.”
Sutton’s eyes rolled, and Charlotte reveled in it for a moment before she relented, speaking softly, “My private life is still relatively private. But I suppose that’s why I chose you for this… I will need to be a bit more open.”
Sutton’s mouth ticked into the smallest of smiles before she nodded. Their eyes caught and locked… and then Sutton’s phone vibrated again.
Charlotte observed the small smile before Sutton turned her phone to show her. The adorable little girl with Sutton’s unmistakably bright blue eyes smiling through the screen… it was only the second time she had seen the young girl, but every time she did, it felt like a punch to the stomach.
Sutton had a child. A daughter. A very adorable one at that.
Then her eyes flicked to Regan, who was holding the phone, making a ridiculous smile as the two of them held up bowls of ice cream.
Charlotte arched her eyebrow. “How in the world did Regan end up here with you? Did she pack herself in your suitcase?”
Sutton laughed before she started to explain. “She might’ve. Honestly, moving here it was—it was a hard decision, but… well, it was right for me, Layla, and Lucy. But after…” She trailed off, her eyebrows drawing together, a look in her eyes that seemed so conflicted and pained, it made Charlotte ache. It was gone a second later. “After my divorce, I was really struggling here by myself, and I couldn’t move across states with Lucy, so Regan and Emma became my saviors.”
“Regan and… Emma?” Charlotte drew out, in disbelief. She hadn’t met Emma much thirteen years ago, but she remembered faces well enough to have a clear picture, and she knew that they hadn’t gotten along. “I must be thinking of a different Emma.”
Sutton chortled. “You’re not. Emma Bordeaux.”
Charlotte leaned back in her chair and stared. “I would have never seen it coming.”
“I know, right?” Sutton enthused. “But…” She seemed to realize what was happening with the conversation as she shook her head and cleared her throat. “We should talk outlines. We have a pretty strict schedule.”
Two hours later, they’d made plenty of headway, and it was the first time in a very, very long time that Charlotte didn’t want a business meeting to end. Because it was business, she reminded herself as she watched Sutton slide into a light jacket and stand from their table.
“Where would you like to meet on Saturday afternoon?” Charlotte asked as they walked out, very aware of every time Sutton’s arm brushed against hers. “My office? My home? Or a café, perhaps.”
Sutton hesitated, and Charlotte wished she knew the thoughts rushing through her mind before she said, “I’ll be dropping Lucy off, so I’ll be on the road no matter what. So, maybe at your office?”
Charlotte nodded, relishing the chance to be with Sutton in a more private place. “Where will you be bringing her?”
“Um, Layla, my ex, lives in Bethesda, so I’ll be dropping her off for the night. We had some scheduling issues this week.”
Charlotte had so many questions. Why was this idiot woman not married to Sutton anymore? What had happened? Why hadn’t they had more children? She knew Sutton would have wanted at least two. She loved having siblings far too much to not want that for her own children. How long had they been divorced? How had Sutton dealt with it all?
She was starving for the information, she found. She supposed it didn’t shock her; she was a curious woman.
As they walked to the curb, Charlotte slowed and turned to face her. The slight breeze wafted Sutton’s scent to her, and she allowed herself to breathe in deeply.
It was the same scent.
God.
“Do you need a ride?” she murmured as her driver pulled up to the curb.
Sutton fidgeted for a moment, before she caught herself and crossed her arms. “Ah, uh. No, thank you. I’m parked just across the street. But I’ll see you in a few days?”
“I’ll be there,” she confirmed, as she reached for the handle to the car, hesitating for a moment.
But Sutton turned and started walking over to her car, and Charlotte breathed through a long sigh as she dropped into the backseat.
It was the uncertainty of it all, she decided after the first couple of meetings. It was the uncertainty that had her changing her jacket a handful of times and feeling unsettled.
She hadn’t known what to expect with Sutton. How could she?
She hadn’t known what she wanted from Sutton. She’d been telling the utter truth to Caleb on the phone.
But, in the interim, she had been able to decipher some things that she wanted.
First, she wanted to know Sutton again. She wanted to see everything Sutton had grown into, wanted to witness what the young woman who had so much potential had made of herself.
She supposed that was maybe what had driven her to this in the first place.
But she didn’t know where to start with that, and Sutton didn’t make it easy. Once upon a time, with the Sutton of her memories, it would have been so simple. She would have let Charlotte bring her a cup of impeccable tea and sidetrack a meeting and delve into personal questions. She knew that, as certain as she knew anything.
However…
Sutton was not the young woman she’d once known; that much had become clear within the next few weeks. Time changed everything; Charlotte knew that better than just about anyone.
Sutton didn’t blush or fumble nearly as much as she used to. She also was very fastidious at keeping things professional.
Much to Charlotte’s dismay.
It didn’t matter what topic they were on; it didn’t matter that these meetings were designed for Charlotte to disclose her own information. Charlotte always tried to turn the conversation back to Sutton. She couldn’t help it; the more she saw Sutton, the more she was hungry for the information she’d missed. She wanted to fill in every gap she had encountered over the last decade.
And Charlotte had learned some things, to be fair.
1: Sutton enjoyed living in D.C., despite the fact that she’d never planned to be here.
2: She’d written a dissertation on the Romantics. (And she’d eventually given Charlotte a copy of said dissertation. Which was delightful.) She’d also tracked down a copy of Sutton’s book of personal essays entitled Tales of a Literally Hopeless Romantic. They’d been humorous and emotional, though Charlotte had skipped over a few. (“The Benefits of Friendship” and “It’s Not You, It’s Us” and “Ill-Fated From the Start” and “First Time [Redux]” and “Sapphire With Eyes to Match”… which she feared were about herself.)
3: Regan and Emma indeed were married and were happy?! Regan watched Lucy every Tuesday during their meetings.
4: Sutton’s favorite part of the week was picking Lucy up from school on Mondays; their custody agreement saw that Sutton had Lucy from Monday afternoon to Saturday morning.
5: Her ex-wife was a doctor. (But could she face down the Speaker of the House about civil rights issues at seven on a Monday morning?)
6: She was still very close to her parents.
7: She adored her job.
These were some of the facts Charlotte had managed to squirrel away into her memory over the first month of damningly professional meetings.
But before she could get more information out of Sutton, Sutton always seemed to catch herself in the process of divulging another small factoid before aiming a look at Charlotte. “This is about you.”
She learned that Sutton took care to make sure they did not touch in any way. She was very careful as to where she sat in relation to Charlotte.
And Charlotte learned that she had this intense drive to prove herself to Sutton.
She found this as she divulged anecdotes from her childhood, tales from the last decade. She… she needed to prove that she was reliable and good-natured— as much as she could be—and determined.
And, well, she needed to prove that it had all been worth it. That the pain they’d both suffered, the sacrifice she’d made—I’m in love with you. I think you could love me, too, but that you’re just too afraid—had been worth it, for her to get where she was. For her to have made the advances she’d been able to make in the last decade.
She had to prove that to Sutton.
And perhaps to herself as well.
“You were approached then for the first time regarding writing a biography. Right?” Sutton asked, three and a half weeks into their meetings.
It was the sixth meeting—Sutton had to cancel one, when her ex had reneged on taking Lucy for the weekend at the last minute—and they were discussing her successful run for governor in 2024.
Charlotte blinked from where she’d been focusing on Sutton’s right ear, behind which her red hair was carefully tucked. She’d had an errant curiosity to learn if she was still sensitive when kissed just there.
“Well, what are you doing?” he asked in a way that implied he was entertaining the idea.
“Changing my blazer.” Four times.
Caleb was quiet for a few beats before asking, “Does this have anything to do with Sutton Spencer writing your biography?”
Charlotte tossed her hand into the air. “I told your loudmouth husband to keep that to himself.”
“And he would never withhold that from me!” Caleb laughed raucously in her ear. “Oh, lord. You are going to meet Sutton Spencer today for her to write your biography, and you’re probably standing in that ostentatiously large office and trying on all of your fabulous blazers.”
Charlotte forced herself to stop fidgeting with her fucking outfit, especially because her brother could clearly see what she was doing from states away. “Must you full-name her whenever you say her name?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because it makes you sound crazy. We are just two…” She stared at herself in the mirror, thinking back to a week and a half ago when Sutton had been in this very office. They were simply professional women, with a bit of a personal history.
I don’t know you, Sutton’s words replayed in her head as they had many times in the last ten days.
Charlotte wouldn’t have thought that would sting, but it had. To her, Sutton was the only person who had ever known her intimately.
“We’re just two professionals,” she stated.
Caleb scoffed so loudly, it rang in her ear. “Professional! The last thing you think about Sutton Spencer is professional.”
“It’s been thirteen years, Caleb.” Exasperation rang through her tone. “I can be professional with her.”
“But you’ll want more. You’re opening a door, Charlotte. That’s why your assistants were looking at you like that. Dean told me that you requested Sutton Spencer after you saw her at that thing.” He sobered for a second, before he asked, more quietly, “What are you doing?”
“Having dinner with my biography writer,” she shot back smartly, even as her stomach turned.
The truth was, for the first time in her adult life, Charlotte truly didn’t know what she was doing. She hadn’t really thought it out when she’d requested Sutton to be her writer.
Her thought process started and stopped with this unquenchable desire to not lose Sutton completely before they could even talk or reconnect or, or… she didn’t know.
The truth was that she just did not know what she was doing or what she intended to come out of this. At the very least, she did trust Sutton’s insight and her writing abilities, and that was all she truly did have at the moment.
“Okay…” Caleb trailed off before he cleared his throat. “I mean, you are out now.”
“I’m aware.” She really, really was. She glimpsed at the antique clock on her wall. “Shit.”
She now only had twenty minutes to get to the restaurant… and in this traffic? Charlotte never made a habit of running late, and the last person she wanted to be late for right now was Sutton.
“I have to go. Tell your husband he’s a rat and I’ll talk to you both soon.”
Sutton beat her to the restaurant.
Charlotte almost cursed under her breath, but then her breath caught in her throat. The sight of Sutton sitting at a table in Charlotte’s favorite restaurant, her hair delicately tucked behind one ear, as she typed out a message on her phone was literally breathtaking.
“Senator Thompson! Your table is ready, and the other member of your party is already seated.” The host shook her out of her thoughts. “Would you like me to take you to the table?”
Charlotte blinked a few times, taking herself out of the moment as she shook her head. “I—no, that’s quite all right. Thank you, Arnold.”
That feeling fluttered in her stomach as she approached, the one she’d felt tinges of all day. What was it? It struck her then—nerves. She was nervous! To have dinner with Sutton, even in a professional capacity. Of course.
The idea was so absurd to her, she couldn’t help but chuckle minutely. She’d been nervous on her election night, but it hadn’t felt quite the same. Professionally, Charlotte was solid. She knew she was. Even if she couldn’t get a bill to pass or had she lost an election, she could control those things. She was capable.
Sutton looked up at her then, fingers freezing on her phone, as Charlotte stood a few feet away.
With this new territory, she had to admit the ground was less than stable beneath her feet.
Shaking herself out of it, Charlotte cleared her throat. “Sorry I’m late.”
Sutton waved her off. “It’s only a few minutes; I assume you had some giant filibuster or congressional emergency?”
She was joking. Charlotte hadn’t known what to expect, after their last encounter, but she hadn’t anticipated Sutton’s little jokes. Their last meeting had been charged and entirely unexpected, though in all honesty, Charlotte couldn’t have said what she’d expected either.
As promised, in their contact since, Charlotte had personally reached out to Sutton to set up their twice-weekly meetings, but their conversations had always been very short.
She relaxed into a smile. “Yes, actually. I’ve fixed the entire infrastructure of the country.”
“Just in time for dinner.” Sutton sent her a soft grin.
A piece inside of her relaxed, and the feeling of it utterly baffled Charlotte. She hadn’t known what to anticipate at all, and because of that, she hadn’t been able to predict her own reactions.
Then again, she’d often not known what to expect with Sutton in their past, even when she thought she did. Maybe that was a part of her appeal?
It definitely was. Charlotte just hadn’t experienced it in so long.
Sutton’s phone lit up again, and Charlotte watched as blue eyes looked down to skim the words on the screen, a smile tugging at her lips as she did.
“Do you have to respond? It’s all right if you do.” Charlotte wanted to ask, desperately, who it was. Who made Sutton smile like that.
But Sutton shook her head. “It’s just Regan, telling me something Lucy said.”
“Your daughter.” Charlotte tasted the words the same way she had when she’d learned of the daughter in question.
She didn’t know why she’d been surprised; Sutton had always wanted children. It only made sense that she now had one.
“Is she your only child?”
Sutton nodded before she let out a soft sigh. “I would’ve had more, but—” She cut herself off, blinking as if keeping herself from saying too much.
Only nothing could be too much. Not for Charlotte. With every single word Sutton said, Charlotte found herself sitting more at attention.
“But?” she urged.
Sutton hesitated before she shook her head again. “It’s not important.”
“Of course it is, if it is to you.”
Sutton stared at her for a few moments, mouth slightly open, and Charlotte held those blue eyes with hers. In much too short a time, Sutton’s eyebrows furrowed, and she cleared her throat. “No, this is a business meeting.”
Charlotte had to bite the inside of her cheek. “Right.” She had agreed to it, after all. She gestured for Sutton to continue.
And continue she did. Sutton pulled out her iPad, a brand-new voice recorder, a notebook, and two pens. The page she flipped to in the notebook was already covered in her neat and tidy handwriting, and she tapped her long fingers against it.
“All right, I’ve done a bit of research in the last week around how to best write this manuscript. Obviously, we need to start with my getting your information. I figure that we can, at least for the first bit, do our info sessions, and then I can write a bit in my off days to see which style we’d prefer.”
Charlotte gamely nodded. “You’re the creative genius; I will defer to you.”
Truthfully, this biography had not been her idea, nor was it something she’d particularly wanted to do. In fact, she’d turned it down multiple times when she’d first been approached during her campaign.
She had no idea how to properly do this.
“You deferring to me… that’s a new twist for us,” Sutton murmured as she uncapped a pen. It seemed she didn’t realize what she’d said—that is, until her eyes widened as she cleared her throat and deliberately stared down at the notebook.
Charlotte leaned back in her chair, saying her thanks to their waiter for delivering the water, wine, and chef’s special that was always prearranged for her, even as she kept her eyes on Sutton. A slow smile tugged at her lips.
Oh, yes.
Sutton closed her eyes, shook her head slightly, and pursed her lips. “So”—she reopened her eyes—“I want to know: Would you rather go chronologically or by topic?”
“I think topical would suit best, for my memory purposes.”
Sutton nodded. “I thought so, too. I have a plethora of areas to cover…” She hesitated, her gaze landing on Charlotte. “Though I should ask how personal you want to get. I know that—” She paused, clearing her throat in an adorably awkward way. “You aren’t— Your personal life… It used to be… private.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but smirk. “And here I thought we didn’t know one another.”
Sutton’s eyes rolled, and Charlotte reveled in it for a moment before she relented, speaking softly, “My private life is still relatively private. But I suppose that’s why I chose you for this… I will need to be a bit more open.”
Sutton’s mouth ticked into the smallest of smiles before she nodded. Their eyes caught and locked… and then Sutton’s phone vibrated again.
Charlotte observed the small smile before Sutton turned her phone to show her. The adorable little girl with Sutton’s unmistakably bright blue eyes smiling through the screen… it was only the second time she had seen the young girl, but every time she did, it felt like a punch to the stomach.
Sutton had a child. A daughter. A very adorable one at that.
Then her eyes flicked to Regan, who was holding the phone, making a ridiculous smile as the two of them held up bowls of ice cream.
Charlotte arched her eyebrow. “How in the world did Regan end up here with you? Did she pack herself in your suitcase?”
Sutton laughed before she started to explain. “She might’ve. Honestly, moving here it was—it was a hard decision, but… well, it was right for me, Layla, and Lucy. But after…” She trailed off, her eyebrows drawing together, a look in her eyes that seemed so conflicted and pained, it made Charlotte ache. It was gone a second later. “After my divorce, I was really struggling here by myself, and I couldn’t move across states with Lucy, so Regan and Emma became my saviors.”
“Regan and… Emma?” Charlotte drew out, in disbelief. She hadn’t met Emma much thirteen years ago, but she remembered faces well enough to have a clear picture, and she knew that they hadn’t gotten along. “I must be thinking of a different Emma.”
Sutton chortled. “You’re not. Emma Bordeaux.”
Charlotte leaned back in her chair and stared. “I would have never seen it coming.”
“I know, right?” Sutton enthused. “But…” She seemed to realize what was happening with the conversation as she shook her head and cleared her throat. “We should talk outlines. We have a pretty strict schedule.”
Two hours later, they’d made plenty of headway, and it was the first time in a very, very long time that Charlotte didn’t want a business meeting to end. Because it was business, she reminded herself as she watched Sutton slide into a light jacket and stand from their table.
“Where would you like to meet on Saturday afternoon?” Charlotte asked as they walked out, very aware of every time Sutton’s arm brushed against hers. “My office? My home? Or a café, perhaps.”
Sutton hesitated, and Charlotte wished she knew the thoughts rushing through her mind before she said, “I’ll be dropping Lucy off, so I’ll be on the road no matter what. So, maybe at your office?”
Charlotte nodded, relishing the chance to be with Sutton in a more private place. “Where will you be bringing her?”
“Um, Layla, my ex, lives in Bethesda, so I’ll be dropping her off for the night. We had some scheduling issues this week.”
Charlotte had so many questions. Why was this idiot woman not married to Sutton anymore? What had happened? Why hadn’t they had more children? She knew Sutton would have wanted at least two. She loved having siblings far too much to not want that for her own children. How long had they been divorced? How had Sutton dealt with it all?
She was starving for the information, she found. She supposed it didn’t shock her; she was a curious woman.
As they walked to the curb, Charlotte slowed and turned to face her. The slight breeze wafted Sutton’s scent to her, and she allowed herself to breathe in deeply.
It was the same scent.
God.
“Do you need a ride?” she murmured as her driver pulled up to the curb.
Sutton fidgeted for a moment, before she caught herself and crossed her arms. “Ah, uh. No, thank you. I’m parked just across the street. But I’ll see you in a few days?”
“I’ll be there,” she confirmed, as she reached for the handle to the car, hesitating for a moment.
But Sutton turned and started walking over to her car, and Charlotte breathed through a long sigh as she dropped into the backseat.
It was the uncertainty of it all, she decided after the first couple of meetings. It was the uncertainty that had her changing her jacket a handful of times and feeling unsettled.
She hadn’t known what to expect with Sutton. How could she?
She hadn’t known what she wanted from Sutton. She’d been telling the utter truth to Caleb on the phone.
But, in the interim, she had been able to decipher some things that she wanted.
First, she wanted to know Sutton again. She wanted to see everything Sutton had grown into, wanted to witness what the young woman who had so much potential had made of herself.
She supposed that was maybe what had driven her to this in the first place.
But she didn’t know where to start with that, and Sutton didn’t make it easy. Once upon a time, with the Sutton of her memories, it would have been so simple. She would have let Charlotte bring her a cup of impeccable tea and sidetrack a meeting and delve into personal questions. She knew that, as certain as she knew anything.
However…
Sutton was not the young woman she’d once known; that much had become clear within the next few weeks. Time changed everything; Charlotte knew that better than just about anyone.
Sutton didn’t blush or fumble nearly as much as she used to. She also was very fastidious at keeping things professional.
Much to Charlotte’s dismay.
It didn’t matter what topic they were on; it didn’t matter that these meetings were designed for Charlotte to disclose her own information. Charlotte always tried to turn the conversation back to Sutton. She couldn’t help it; the more she saw Sutton, the more she was hungry for the information she’d missed. She wanted to fill in every gap she had encountered over the last decade.
And Charlotte had learned some things, to be fair.
1: Sutton enjoyed living in D.C., despite the fact that she’d never planned to be here.
2: She’d written a dissertation on the Romantics. (And she’d eventually given Charlotte a copy of said dissertation. Which was delightful.) She’d also tracked down a copy of Sutton’s book of personal essays entitled Tales of a Literally Hopeless Romantic. They’d been humorous and emotional, though Charlotte had skipped over a few. (“The Benefits of Friendship” and “It’s Not You, It’s Us” and “Ill-Fated From the Start” and “First Time [Redux]” and “Sapphire With Eyes to Match”… which she feared were about herself.)
3: Regan and Emma indeed were married and were happy?! Regan watched Lucy every Tuesday during their meetings.
4: Sutton’s favorite part of the week was picking Lucy up from school on Mondays; their custody agreement saw that Sutton had Lucy from Monday afternoon to Saturday morning.
5: Her ex-wife was a doctor. (But could she face down the Speaker of the House about civil rights issues at seven on a Monday morning?)
6: She was still very close to her parents.
7: She adored her job.
These were some of the facts Charlotte had managed to squirrel away into her memory over the first month of damningly professional meetings.
But before she could get more information out of Sutton, Sutton always seemed to catch herself in the process of divulging another small factoid before aiming a look at Charlotte. “This is about you.”
She learned that Sutton took care to make sure they did not touch in any way. She was very careful as to where she sat in relation to Charlotte.
And Charlotte learned that she had this intense drive to prove herself to Sutton.
She found this as she divulged anecdotes from her childhood, tales from the last decade. She… she needed to prove that she was reliable and good-natured— as much as she could be—and determined.
And, well, she needed to prove that it had all been worth it. That the pain they’d both suffered, the sacrifice she’d made—I’m in love with you. I think you could love me, too, but that you’re just too afraid—had been worth it, for her to get where she was. For her to have made the advances she’d been able to make in the last decade.
She had to prove that to Sutton.
And perhaps to herself as well.
“You were approached then for the first time regarding writing a biography. Right?” Sutton asked, three and a half weeks into their meetings.
It was the sixth meeting—Sutton had to cancel one, when her ex had reneged on taking Lucy for the weekend at the last minute—and they were discussing her successful run for governor in 2024.
Charlotte blinked from where she’d been focusing on Sutton’s right ear, behind which her red hair was carefully tucked. She’d had an errant curiosity to learn if she was still sensitive when kissed just there.
