Guilty as Sin chapter 2

And we're back!

Look at me, writing things before the last 10 days of the month... ;)

I honestly just love this story, and am very excited to share it with you all!

Without further adieu...

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

Chapter Two

Charlotte just barely managed to hold back her bordering on inappropriate groan as she bit into the bagel Caleb had brought her for an early lunch.

Brunch? Was it still brunch? Did people brunch on weekdays? People with jobs?

Whatever this meal counted as was inconsequential. Because what it truly was, was Charlotte’s only sustenance all day.

Her brother sat across from her desk, lounging in the over-stuffed chair as if he lived here.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she murmured dryly, after swallowing her food.

But, really, Caleb was slouched down low in the seat of one chair, with his legs propped up on the other, crossed at the ankles. As if this were his office.

“Thanks, I will,” he smartly shot back, deliberately wiggling around in the seat. “Besides, you’re going to talk to me like that while you’re sitting there scarfing down the food I bought you – unprompted, by the way – like you haven’t laid eyes on a morsel in months?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes back at him, and almost – almost – put her bagel down to make a point.

As it was, she was too hungry for that, and Caleb was one of the only people she would ever let watch her eat this like she was a pig at a trough.

Also as it was, she didn’t have the luxury of time to make a point.

At her old job at the mayor’s office, she would have. Granted, she’d managed her last job like a well-oiled machine. Once she’d been hired, she’d doggedly worked to carve out a rhythm, and she’d chased that rhythm until she’d made it her bitch. There had rarely been days while working for Dean that she’d been too busy for lunch.

Right now, as she was striving to carve out her place in Congress, that was… less of the case. Not only would this have been an increase in her workload, and a huge change in terms of travel to adjust to, but… Charlotte had taken over the elected seat of her predecessor. She was trying to find and settle into a rhythm, meanwhile everyone around her had already done that.

As it was, she was making the most of her district work week.

“You know I’ve been busy,” was all she muttered back. “And I know it was Dean that told you to bring me something to eat.”

He shrugged, an indignant expression moving over his face. “So? I’m still the one that went out of my busy day and came here to do it.”

“Yes, you’re a local hero.”

Caleb dropped his mouth open in offense, gesturing around the office. “Actually, I’m a federal hero, now.”

Charlotte didn’t dignify him with a response.

Caleb hummed, tapping his chin in faux-thought. “You know, given how crazy busy you’ve been, it’s really almost as though… hmm…”

She shot him a glare, exasperated. “Yes, I get it; I’m hiring an assistant. You know this.”

“It’s only taken two months,” he scoffed back. “And I’m trying to recall… huh… who said you should have made this a priority weeks ago?”

“If this is going to be our conversation right now, then you can take the bagel back.” Her food-deprived stomach protested as she deliberately folded the paper back over the bagel to offer it to Caleb.

“Dramatic,” he sighed back. “Fine, I’ll get off the I-told-you-so train.”

“Deeply appreciated.”

Because there was only so many times Charlotte could acknowledge that she’d been wrong. And she had; she’d grudgingly admitted to Caleb and Dean a couple of weeks ago that they were… right. She really did need an assistant, in spite of her best efforts.

She’d put off hiring one, and they all knew it. There were excuses she could make as to why she didn’t yet have someone in the role – and she’d made them already, for over a month.

She was incredibly busy, being the main reason, and that wasn’t a lie. Who had the time to personally oversee the hiring of an assistant when they were traveling back and forth to D.C. half of the time, and were in meetings nearly all day otherwise?

But she knew that Caleb knew the real multi-pronged truth, even if it hadn’t ever been stated aloud.

That – first and foremost – handing over the control of her day-to-day was not easy for her. In fact, the very thought of it made her stomach cramp. Charlotte didn’t like even the idea of someone else reviewing her emails, deciding what was priority for her, answering messages on her behalf… her assistant, whomever it would be, would be making decisions in lieu of Charlotte making them for herself.

Giving that control to someone else – she shuddered at it.

Let alone the trust component.

The person that filled this position would have to be someone she trusted implicitly. Someone whose instincts and intelligence and social savvy were on par with her own.

That was very, very difficult to know about a person through an application and a couple of interviews. Everyone put their best foot forward during an interview, of course; how was she to really know the truth of them?

And if they got the job and fucked up, then it reflected poorly on her. That alone was enough to make her drag her heels as much as she had.

Which was without even touching the other kind of trust this was going to require.

Blowing out a deep sigh, she frowned and turned her attention back to the tablet in front of her.

Caleb popped his head up from where he’d dropped it back to stare up at the ceiling of her office, narrowing his eyes as he craned his neck and obviously tried to peer down at the tablet. The tablet that, indeed, was where she’d reviewed applicants and made notes on them thus far.

They were nearing the end of the week, and she’d truly made the most of it by already having called in her favorite interviewees to meet in-person. She didn’t have time to lollygag on this anymore, and she wasn’t going to waste any time.

If someone couldn’t fit in this interview with only a couple days’ notice or if they felt they needed more time to prepare, then they were clearly not the right fit for this role.

Deliberately, she reached out and locked it.

Caleb huffed out a breath at her. “Didn’t you say that you had a strong application from…” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, darting his gaze exaggeratedly around the room. “You know. One of those homosexuals?”

Charlotte could not have rolled her own eyes harder if she tried, before she nailed him with an intent glare. “See, you can’t even say the word without sounding utterly ridiculous. You may physically pass as straight on the outside, but the second you open your mouth…”

She arched an eyebrow at him as she smirked – because this had been a conversation she and Caleb had debated about since they were teenagers, coming out to one another. Caleb had been shocked by her telling him she was a lesbian. Charlotte, on the other hand, hadn’t been surprised in the least about Caleb.

She’d seen him drooling over the pool boy since middle school.

He held up his hands. “Hey, now. I wasn’t trying to closet myself; I was just trying to match the vibe in this office.”

Clenching her jaw, she dated her eyes to her door, ensuring that it was – indeed – closed. Before she breathed in a deep, calming breath and refused to let her cheeks heat at the comment. “All right, you’re saying that as if I’m some self-hating queer politician, trying to take away LGBTQ rights. I’m not… closeted. I’m private.”

It was a distinction Charlotte had started to make for herself in the last few months. Something that, surprisingly, had started to matter a lot to her.

It actually pained her to think of herself as closeted.

Because she had no shame in her sexuality, and even if she couldn’t quite “live out loud” right now, she wouldn’t change herself. She didn’t wish she wasn’t a lesbian.

She simply had to make deliberate, intentional choices. The choice to pursue her career with everything she had was one she’d make over and over again, even though she knew that she was walking a fine line.

But just because she wasn’t walking in the Pride parade or doing interviews talking about her sexuality didn’t mean she was truly closeted. At least, that was how she thought about it.

It was how she had to think.

Caleb’s unerring, direct stare screamed bullshit at her, despite the fact that he tightly rolled his lips and held the verbalization of the word in. She appreciated it, given that they’d had this conversation several times in the last six months.

Something told her that Dean had given him the final, stern say-so to make him stop ribbing her about it.

He coughed, pushing through. “All I’m saying is – your choice should be a no-brainer. Hire whats-his-name! Tom, that’s it.”

Charlotte shook her head before she took the final bite of her bagel. “I’m not hiring someone just based on their sexuality.” She stated, firmly, as soon as she could. “I can’t believe I have to even say that to you.”

“I thought the issue was when people didn’t get hired because of their sexuality…?” In fairness to Caleb, he didn’t actually sound like he was trying to be a thorn in her side by the question, appearing genuinely confused.

She waved her hand. “It’s all under the same umbrella. You think I should hire someone queer–”

He cut her off, nodding intently as he shot her a duh look. “So that if they figure out that you’re a huge lesbian, then it’ll be in solidarity. Hush-hush.”

Charlotte pursed her lips, the thought rolling through her mind not for the first time. She’d thought this through from every angle, and what Caleb was saying did make at least a little bit of sense, and it did hold some appeal.

Within seconds, though, she dismissed the idea, especially when she saw the eager expression on her brother’s face. “You’d probably make him your best friend, and he’ll probably “find out” about me a lot sooner because I have a brother with loose lips.”

Caleb pouted indignantly, “Hey!”

Charlotte wasn’t going to take it back. “Honestly, Caleb, you’re the worst person I can imagine trying to make this argument on Tom’s behalf; you’re the most gossip-loving loud-mouth I know.”

“I’ve kept your secret for this long,” he argued.

“And we both know Grandmother would disown you if that ever changed,” she easily shot back, because it was the truth. Still, after a beat, she gentled her tone, because she knew it wasn’t the whole truth. “Caleb, I know you would never out me, intimidation from our grandmother or not. But… not everything as simple as you see it. I wish it were.”

She sighed, before she rolled her lips together and cut herself off from going down that train of thought.

Going too far down that train of thought – down the train of what-ifs and ideal worlds – was futile. Because this was their reality, and nothing was going to change. Not unless someone changed it.

She intended to be that someone.

But it would be a long process, and Charlotte was committed. There was no need to go down what-ifs and ideal worlds, because the real world – as disenchanting as it could be – was right here in front of them, demanding her attention and focus.

With that thought, she shot her gaze to the clock on the wall above the door, simultaneously balling up the paper her bagel had been wrapped in.

11:49.

“I appreciate the bagel, Caleb, but I have an… applicant coming in shortly. I have to get ready for the interview.”

By ready, Charlotte meant she needed to pull Sutton Spencer’s application back up on her tablet so she could reread the insulting responses and re-ignite the fire they’d lit inside of her last night.

Oh, she’d been stewing on it for the last sixteen hours, but when she was face-to-face with the woman, she wanted it all to be fresh in her mind.

Her brother heaved a sigh, hoisting himself to sit upright in the chair before standing and stretching. “Don’t know why you’re even having more interviews when you already know Tom…” he sing-songed, a teasing grin pulling at his mouth.

She hummed. “And Tom is one of my contenders to move forward to the next step of the process. But this interview is important, too.”

With that, she eyed the wastebin tucked discreetly against the wall, and tossed the bagel wrapper in. It bounced off the rim, before falling right into the bottom of the basket, and she let the satisfaction of that small victory whisper through her.

Yes, she was very much looking forward to this meeting.

She hadn’t told Caleb and Dean about the application last night, mostly because she was waiting to see how it all played out before. She had a dinner planned with the two of them tomorrow night, and she was fairly certain this was going to be a great tale to regale them with.

That was, if Sutton Spencer even showed up.

Charlotte was entirely unconvinced that she would.

First and foremost because this woman seemed like she didn’t have a care in the world, didn’t take anything seriously. She was willing to submit a job application with those responses? To a congresswoman?!

Then again, Charlotte was absolutely certain that Sutton Spencer must believe herself to be impervious to any possible blowback, given who her parents were.

After reading Sutton’s answers, she’d focused on the term political nepo-baby, and had done some quick research. It had been simple to tie the name to Jack and Katherine.

And maybe Sutton was impervious to any consequences. The daughter of an illustrious politician, a family that had just as many deep ties and even deeper pockets to rival Charlotte’s.

But she’d met Jack Spencer, and despite the limited time she’d spent with him, she’d honestly gotten the impression that he deeply loved his children. He was known in their circles to be an involved father, and as someone with integrity and respect. Charlotte, in doing her proper research, had learned that Jack and Katherine Spencer hadn’t even sent their children to private school, given that he was a staunch proponent of public education. By all accounts, he appeared to be someone that practiced what he preached.

Which was why it shocked her to see that his daughter would carry herself in such a way.

She supposed it really went to show you – in the world of politics, you didn’t really know anyone, and very few people were who they seemed. Even fewer people could be counted on to truly live by their preached morals.

And then, for Sutton to deny any and all accountability for sending those answers?

Charlotte hadn’t even anticipated Sutton would respond to her; she imagined Sutton – with those answers – hadn’t anticipated a response back. She had to believe Sutton had sent that application in just to have a laugh.

But not even to say a simple I was just joking. To try to say that she hadn’t written out the answers at all.

What, Charlotte was supposed to believe that someone had hacked into Sutton’s email – verified – and sought out Charlotte’s job application to write those idiotic and, quite frankly, insulting answers just to mess with Sutton?

Charlotte wasn’t a fool. And she would be damned if anyone would try to play her as one.

The response to Charlotte’s question regarding what was the most politically formative moment in her life…

You, Charlotte Thompson, winning this congressional seat. I took it very personally.

Oh, that answer still rankled, burning through her. The other answers were ridiculous and a waste of her time. But that one hit a little too personally for her to dismiss it so easily.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Charlotte had never so much as laid eyes on this woman, and she was making a jab at Charlotte? Through a job application?

A knock sounded on her door, and she and Caleb both turned their attention to it.

“Yes?” She called out.

Immediately, the door opened just a few inches, and Lynne – her office assistant – poked her head in. “Your twelve o’clock is here. Should I let her in…?” She asked, shooting a quick, questioning look toward Caleb.

He held up his hands, smiling affably. “Don’t mind me, I’m just leaving.”

“Send her in,” Charlotte directed, her tone dipping a little lower than normal as the anticipation of this meeting sluiced through her.

So, Sutton Spencer at least had a little bit of a spine, then. Huh.

Lynne nodded, leaving her door slightly ajar. Caleb, on the other hand, meandered toward the door, but gave her an indecipherable stare. He had recognized the tone.

“I’ll let you get to it, then. See you tomorrow for dinner.”

“Thanks for the bagel.”

She took a deep breath, folding her hands over the desk as she sat up straight in her chair.

Caleb’s eyebrows rose in silent question as he pulled the door open.

And before he could properly step out, a woman rushed in.

Just like that, some of the wind was taken right out of Charlotte’s sails.

Because this woman was…

Unbearably attractive.

There was no other way to phrase it.

Enough so that Charlotte’s stomach clenched and fluttered with immediate interest, cutting right into her determined self-righteousness.

She certainly wasn’t dressed as if she’d come here to make a mockery of Charlotte and this interview process. The gray dress with the subtle design woven into the fabric that she wore was cinched at the waist before ending very appropriately at her knee; it didn’t show any more of her legs than one of the suits that belonged to Charlotte’s suits, but… but she simply had so much more leg to show than Charlotte did!

Underneath, she wore a crisp white shirt, the collar perfectly folded over the top of the dress, buttoned at the wrists. Again, entirely appropriate, but it also spoke of quiet class, and of money – it wasn’t flashy, but Charlotte could spot a designer label.

The image she’d had in her mind of Sutton Spencer was not one of sweet elegance at all. Certainly not a look so preppy.

And the attractiveness factor hadn’t occurred to her, either. Obviously, as Charlotte wasn’t some sort of pervert whose first thought about women was how they looked.

But, she supposed, if she hadn’t been so blindsided by Sutton’s responses, she’d probably have spared a thought to her looks. After all, Charlotte had met her parents; she knew they were very attractive people.

Her long red hair was pulled up into a smooth ponytail, before falling down her back, and her blue eyes were arresting. Crystal clear, and brimming with passion.

“I truly didn’t write the answers on the application that was submitted to you,” she spoke – not loudly, but firmly and insistently, the words bursting forth before Charlotte could get a word out.

Charlotte opened her out mouth to respond, only to realize Caleb was still standing in the doorway, a few inches behind Sutton. She shot him with a look, gesturing for him to close the door.

He slid his gaze up and down Sutton from behind in a look so meaningful that if she didn’t know he was incredibly gay, she’d have believed he was checking Sutton out.

As it was, she knew he was gay, and she knew precisely why Caleb then shot her a look, accompanied by a smirk.

“Goodbye, Caleb.” She arched an eyebrow at him, ignoring Sutton and the energy pouring off of her in waves.

He shook his head. “An important interview, indeed…” He echoed her words from a minute ago, laughing with them as he shut the door.

Clenching her interlocked fingers tightly, she turned her attention back to Sutton, arching her that same look she’d given her brother.

Drop-dead gorgeous or not, Charlotte wasn’t about to let her off the hook. “I believe I told you in our last correspondence that I didn’t want to hear any my dog ate my homework kind of excuses.”

Frankly, Sutton had some audacity to come to Charlotte’s fucking office and say that to her face.

Sutton’s plush, pink lips dropped open, as a look of obvious insult flashed over her face.

“I’m not making an excuse; you think I would have come all the way here to look you in the eye today if the application meant so little to me – if I was treating it as a stupid joke?”

Deliberately leaning back in her chair, Charlotte looked up at Sutton.

She was wearing low heels, but Charlotte could tell that Sutton had several inches on her, regardless. And even if Sutton wasn’t sitting down, Charlotte wasn’t going to let her use any physical intimidation tactics on her. She wouldn’t be standing; she wasn’t intimidated by this girl.

Her baffled indignance seemed genuine, but…

“I don’t know you,” she simply said, shrugging. “All I know is that I received an application through your email address with the most ludicrous and rude answers that I’ve seen throughout this whole process.”

Sutton’s ire seemed to lessen slightly, her wide, blue eyes staring imploringly at Charlotte. “I understand that upon receiving those responses, you felt like I was trying to waste your time or make a joke out of something that is obviously not funny at all, and I’m sure that didn’t make you feel good.” She acknowledged, and there was this earnest edge in her voice…

It hooked something in Charlotte, against her better judgment. Against the judgment that told her it was far more likely to meet someone that was a good liar, that could play a good part, rather than the fact that someone else sent that application on Sutton’s behalf.

“It didn’t,” Charlotte returned, honestly, and she set her jaw at the insult the application had sparked in her. “As for the reason you’d come all the way here – perhaps it’s because you realized I know your father and that, perhaps, you’d face consequences to your actions.”

Sutton’s cheeks turned a bright pink, then, and Charlotte first thought she was blushing.

Before she realized that Sutton was actually pissed.

“Go ahead and tell my father,” she challenged, her tone low and victorious. “Even if you wanted to handle this like you’re a child that wants to – to tell on me to my parents, go ahead.” She tilted the strong, sharp line of her jaw up in the air, confidently. “My father knows that I’d never behave in that manner. And he knows who my best friend is.”

Charlotte rolled her lips tightly, because… damn if she wasn’t being drawn in. There was something about Sutton in the way she held herself, the way she seemed to let every emotion play out as she felt it, that was difficult to ignore.

She steeled herself against it, as Sutton continued.

“I understand it must have felt badly, thinking I was mocking you on my application. But then you turned around last night – and just now! – and insulted me, and my character.” Sutton huffed out a breath, and the hurt, indignant expression on her face was so open, it almost amused Charlotte. “So, even though I’m genuinely humiliated that my friend typed those responses as a stupid joke, and even more mortified that you read them, I need you to know that I do have the character show up here and look you in the eye and tell you the truth. Even if I’m obviously not going to get the job.”

Her last sentence was quiet, both disappointed and intent.

Sutton shrugged her shoulders, heavily, the bluster she’d walked in with minutes ago fading and giving away to something… softer.

She still stood before Charlotte’s desk, but she didn’t get the impression that Sutton was standing in an intimidation tactic, anymore. If anything, she seemed like she was still standing – especially as she interlocked her fingers tightly in front of her – because she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself now that her guns weren’t blazing.

“The real, actual truth is that my best friend – who thinks she’s very funny – wrote those answers as a joke, not thinking they would accidentally get sent in. Yes, I was logged into my email, and it was sent from my laptop; I don’t deny that. But my only mistake was leaving my laptop open.”

“And… why would your best friend write those things, then?” Charlotte questioned, even though she had to admit that she found herself moved. Moved enough that it was impossible to truly steel herself against it.

Either Sutton Spencer was an incredible liar, someone whose eyes and body language read as guileless and open even as she lied through her damn teeth, or she was actually telling Charlotte the truth.

Her typically impeccable instincts told her it was the latter.

Sutton groaned, waving her hand in the air before dropping it listlessly to her side. “She did it because I’d been staring at your application for days, trying to make sure I didn’t write the wrong thing.” Sutton’s blue eyes – so, so blue… Charlotte hadn’t ever had someone look at her with eyes that looked like fucking sapphire before – held Charlotte’s gaze. Searching, even as her cheeks flushed, and Charlotte could just sense that Sutton wanted to drop her eyes to look down at the floor.

But she didn’t.

“Because I was taking the application very seriously; I do take it seriously,” she amended, that quiet passion coloring her tone.

A passion that Charlotte had to admit she found quite… appealing.

Sutton drew in a deep breath, scoffing out a mirthless laugh. “And if I hadn’t stopped my friend, she’d be here in your office right now, prostrating herself in front of you to try and make it up to me. Honestly, you should be appreciative of the fact that I stopped that from happening.”

As Sutton stopped speaking, a little line appeared between her eyebrows as she stared at Charlotte. Uncertainty splashed over her features, like she was truly finished with her explanation now and had no idea where to go from here.

Twisting her lips to the side in thought, Charlotte met Sutton’s stare, unwaveringly. She was undeniably impressed by the spark Sutton had.

She was also undeniably convinced, if she were being honest with herself.

“All right, then,” she murmured, giving Sutton a final nod.

Yes, she’d decided that she believed Sutton enough to continue this process, at the very least.

Sutton blinked those wide, blue eyes at her, teeth digging into her bottom lip. “All right?” She echoed.

“All right,” she confirmed, gesturing to the seat next to Sutton, across from her desk. “You said you had detailed, thoughtful responses to the questions on the application. Now is your chance to share them with me.”

Sutton’s mouth fell open on a quiet and clearly surprised sharp inhale. “Oh. Um. Now?”

Damningly, Charlotte was amused, and she slowly nodded. “It seems like the most pertinent time to do so, no?”

Sutton blinked at her for a few seconds, obviously caught off-guard. “Right. I guess that makes sense. I’m… okay.” She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she seemed to silently give herself a pep talk.

And this woman wanted to work with Charlotte in politics?

After another moment, Sutton rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath, as she shifted to sit in the chair. Well, it seemed she sat on the edge of the chair, as if she wasn’t sure if she should make herself more comfortable in any way.

Quite a different appearance from the woman that had come into her office, guns blazing.

Charlotte found herself leaning in, undeniably looking forward to whatever Sutton was going to say. She was sure it was going to either be terrible or amazing, and she truthfully had no idea which direction it was going to go in.

“The most politically formative moment in my life,” Sutton started, her tone quiet but direct, as she locked eyes with Charlotte.

When Charlotte arched her eyebrows up, intrigued as to where this was going, Sutton continued.

“That was the question I’d been taking the most time to write. Because there were a lot of potential answers to it, you know? I could have written about instances with my dad. Or even when your grandmother was the president,” Sutton gestured toward Charlotte. “I grew up in and around politics, so there were moments I could draw from.”

She paused, seeming to hold her breath for a long beat…

Before she admitted, “But the truth is that – even though my friend wrote it as a joke – you running for this position really was the most formative moment for me.”

Taken aback, Charlotte’s spine straightened, and she eyed Sutton carefully. Trying to make sure that she really wasn’t trying to make a joke or anything.

She didn’t know the last time she’d been so hungry for an answer before, though, because Sutton truly didn’t appear to be lying.

“Ever since I started to see your campaign information months ago, I was really drawn to you.”

Oh, the eagerness and sincerity in her voice, and the expression on this woman’s insanely attractive face as she looked at Charlotte buzzed along a very dangerous place in her mind. I’m really drawn to you.

Nearly a year of celibacy was clearly having an effect on her.

Charlotte cleared her throat and her mind, nodding. “Go on?”

She had to admit – there hadn’t been a single candidate she’d spoken with that intrigued her even close to this much.

Sutton tangled her fingers together tightly in her lap. “It’s just that… that we’re really similar, you and I.”

Charlotte felt her eyebrows shoot up on her forehead in baffled shock. Because… what?

From what she’d seen about Sutton Spencer, they couldn’t be more different. From what Charlotte believed about Sutton’s demeanor, to her fashion sense – they were nothing alike.

Her surprise must have been telegraphed over her expression, as Sutton rushed to say, “Not that I really know you, or even, uh…” Sutton’s gaze dipped and looked at Charlotte’s outfit, before flitting around her office. “From what I know about you.”

Sutton’s cheeks blushed, as she shook her head. “What I mean by that is – where we come from in life. Even though I didn’t write that we are both nepo-babies – and I never would have phrased it like that,” she was quick to add, giving Charlotte a serious, imploring stare. “The reality is that we do both come from families that have a legacy to uphold. When people know who our parents or grandparents are, they think that they know us. And it’s… it’s a really unique situation to be in, right?”

Charlotte hummed quietly in acknowledgement, as she slowly leaned back in her chair, letting Sutton’s comment settle in.

“It creates pressure, in a strange way. In a way that I can’t really talk about to any of my friends, because it makes me feel kind of ridiculous. After all, my parents don’t put any pressure on me, and they’ve given me the world, so I’m not complaining. Not really. I just,” Sutton broke off, clearly searching for the right words.

And Charlotte found herself riveted, leaning in a bit as she waited for whatever Sutton said next.

“I think I want to write,” Sutton offered, her tone quiet and earnest and uncertain and thoughtful. There was a little hint of a smile on her lips, something small and sweet, as she admitted, “I’m a voracious reader, and I love crafting stories.” That smile dimmed as soon as it appeared. “But whenever anyone knows who my mother is, it’s – it becomes this whole other conversation. It becomes about something bigger than just me and what I might want.”

A look of sheer consternation settled over her expression, as she tilted her head and stared across the desk at Charlotte. An intent stare. “And I – well, I don’t mean to make assumptions on your behalf, really – but I imagine that given the career you’ve chosen and who your grandmother is, that you’ve had similar experiences.”

Charlotte found herself nodding, Sutton’s words landing somewhere deep inside of her. Gripping tightly. Far more tightly than she ever would have imagined, if she was honest with herself.

“You aren’t wrong,” she murmured, surprising both of them.

Eagerly, Sutton nodded, bracing her hands on her thighs as she leaned in and continued, “What I became so captivated by, about you, is that you don’t seem to question yourself or your path, despite the assumptions or the comments or the legacy, itself.”

Sutton tilted her head, staring at Charlotte so meaningfully. Searching. Clearly trying to understand her, to make sense of her.

And Charlotte, unexpectedly, felt alarmed by the scrutiny, as she leaned back in her chair once more. Gaining even a few inches of distance between them. Her jaw twitched as she clenched it tightly, not answering Sutton one way or the other.

Because… well, she wasn’t the one being interviewed here!

Sutton cleared her throat, dropping her gaze. “I’m not one-hundred percent certain about what I want to do in my life, yet. I think the answer is somewhere in academia or literature – both, maybe – but I don’t want to make the wrong choice and have it reflect on my family or me. I just… I want to know what I want to do for myself before I go further down that path.”

She took a deep breath and lifted her eyes back up to Charlotte’s, her stare certain once again. “And I think that I can learn a lot about that from you. That’s what I found so formative during your election. And it’s also my answer to the first question on the application.”

Confused, Charlotte recalled the question, “As in – you believe that’s the answer for what makes you the best choice for this role?”

Sutton squared her shoulders, rolling them back confidently. As confidently as Charlotte believed Sutton had in her, during this exchange at the very least.

“Yes,” she stated, her tone so sure. “I think I’m the best fit as your personal assistant because, honestly, I have no desire to work in politics,” she confessed.

And it was a confession, especially here in this office.

Charlotte shook her head, eyebrows furrowing in bafflement as she held up a hand. “I’m sorry; you believe your lack of desire to be in the world of politics makes you the best choice for this role?”

Sutton had, insanely, drawn Charlotte in before.

But she was lost again, now.

At least, until Sutton nodded. “I’m not trying to gain political experience to add it to my resume or looking to try to make connections and climb a ladder.” Sutton pulled a cute face as if the very idea made her disgusted, and Charlotte had to contain her smile.

Sutton’s expression sobered, looking more serious than ever, as she said, “Anyone that you’ll seriously consider for this role is going to be organized, punctual, and intelligent, with a degree from a good school, trying to jumpstart their career. I have the degree, I’m organized, punctual, and intelligent,” she listed, easily.

The laser-sharp, ocean blue of her eyes bore into Charlotte’s, and she found herself helpless to look away.

Especially as Sutton’s next words were so colored by pure emotion. “But I’m not trying to jumpstart a political career; I’m trying to jumpstart my life. And I think I can learn a lot about that from you.”

Sutton took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “For my entire adult life, all of my work experience has centered around being a support. I’ve been a co-writer with my mother. I’ve been an assistant to one of the most demanding, respected professors at NYU. I think I can give you everything you’re looking for, everything you need, from someone at your side,” she asserted, angling her head up at Charlotte.

Huh.

For several seconds, Charlotte only stared back.

Because this… well, this was the very last thing Charlotte had anticipated coming out of her meeting with Sutton Spencer.

The knock on her door made them both startle – well, Charlotte as much as she ever startled. As in, she hadn’t realized how intense the eye contact she’d been holding with Sutton had become, and she snapped her head up. Sutton actually startled, jumping as she blushed and turned to look at the door over her shoulder.

“Yes?” Charlotte called, clearing her throat.

Lynne popped her head in, apologetically. “Councilman Derrick is here.”

Charlotte was admittedly surprised, as she flicked her gaze to the clock to see that it was quarter past noon, already. Sutton had been in her office for twenty minutes already?

Huh.

“Let him know it’ll just be another minute.”

Lynne nodded, swiftly closing the door.

Sutton’s cheeks were still a faint pink, as she swept an errant strand of hair that escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “Um… I guess it’s time to go, then.”

Charlotte nearly apologized for scheduling a meeting only – technically – fifteen minutes after she’d told Sutton to come into her office. But in fairness to her, she hadn’t believed Sutton would actually have come, let alone that Sutton would be here longer than five minutes if she did have the gall to show up.

The last thing she’d expected from Sutton was for her to be… her.

“I appreciate you coming here today,” she said, instead.

She stood at the same time as Sutton, extending her hand across her desk.

Sutton reached out and slid her hand into Charlotte’s, her touch soft and warm and making Charlotte’s hand buzz ever so slightly, as she firmly shook her hand. And Sutton was the one that initiated the movement of their handshake as soon as their hands were clasped.

So interesting.

Sutton coughed, dropping her hand quickly. “I appreciate you hearing me out. It was… it was nice to meet you.”

There she went again, with that quiet tone and earnest stare.

“Likewise,” Charlotte murmured, still in disbelief by the fact that it was the truth.

Sutton held her gaze for another beat, before she slowly turned and walked toward the door. When her hand fell on the doorknob, she turned to give Charlotte one last questing look. “Have a good day. Good luck in your meeting.”

Irrefutably amused, Charlotte’s lips quirked into a small grin. “Thank you.”

With that, Sutton Spencer was gone from her office, and Charlotte remained standing, staring after her.

Sutton had been the definition of unexpected. Impassioned and bold and outspoken, to thoughtful and demure and quiet, and Charlotte was fascinated.

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