Guilty as Sin - Chapter 1

Here we are with the newest Those Who Wait AU - Guilty as Sin.

Different than Midnight Rain in that this alternate universe is totally new! Sutton and Charlotte have no prior history together. Any place their paths could have possibly crossed has not happened.

• Charlotte deleted SapphicSpark the day before Regan made Sutton's profile

• Charlotte ran into Jack as planned and did not have to seek him out at Topped Off

• Katherine did not cancel coming to the event in NYC with Jack, therefore Sutton did not fill in as his plus-one

  *not Sutton/Charlotte related, but Sutton did not apply to her Roman Archives internship, and is therefore not going to Rome in this timeline

This is a very exciting adventure for me! Embarking on writing Sutton and Charlotte falling in love with each other truly from the start, all over again.

Let's do this.

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

What three qualities about yourself that make you the best choice for this role?

What are your career aspirations?

Where did your interest in politics begin?

What has been the most politically formative moment in your life?

Sutton stared down at the questions in front of her on her laptop screen, tapping the end of her pen on the paper that she was taking notes on.

Then she jumped back, pen clattering to the floor, as a steaming hot mug of tea was placed in front of her, only inches away from her open laptop. Quickly, defensively, she slid the computer halfway across the table, making sure to keep it safe from any overflow from the tea.

She’d developed her somewhat catlike reflexes not from growing up with three brothers, but from growing up with a Regan and an Alex.  

Cutting an exasperated look up at Regan, she clapped a hand over the top of the mug to prevent the sloshing. Then grimaced, as the hot tea splashed against her palm. “Do you mind?”

Regan arched a look down at her as she pulled out the chair across the table and plunked down in it. “Do you mind?” She challenged. “You’re taking up residence in my coffee shop, at a prime table, and you haven’t ordered anything in almost two hours!”

Exaggeratedly rolling her eyes, Sutton wiped her tea-hand on a napkin as she used her other hand to reach for her notebook. “If you want, I can go home–”

“Noooo, don’t be ridiculous.” Regan reached out, stopping Sutton from packing up her belongings. “You win; obviously, you know I don’t want you to go. But I am officially taking my break, and I’d like to steal your attention for the next fifteen minutes. I think you need a break, anyway.”

Sutton frowned, even as she acquiesced with a sigh. “You’re not wrong.”

She had been staring at this same application all evening thus far. The deadline was in three hours, and Sutton had been working through her answers for days, trying to make sure they were perfect.

She figured if she could put her best foot forward in written form, it would pave the way for her to make a better impression in person. That is, assuming she was granted an in-person interview.

“Great, because I already told Emma to come and distract you, and she refused,” Regan asserted, clearing her throat exaggeratedly loudly as she stared over Sutton’s shoulder.

Confused, Sutton turned to find Emma sitting behind her at the counter in front of the windows that looked out onto the street.

“How long have you been there?” She asked, amazed at just how dialed-in she’d been to the application. Because she hadn’t noticed Emma at all, and she already had taken sips from her coffee, and a few bites from her scone.

Emma turned to look at her, looking away from the novel she had in front of her. “About ten minutes or so.”

“You didn’t say hi?” She asked, half-teasing, half-confused.

Emma shrugged. “I know you’re really focused on your applications, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“And now I had to do it all on my own,” Regan cut in.

“The nightmare,” Emma dryly responded.

Sutton slid her chair to the side, gesturing at the chair between herself and Regan to invite Emma to join them.

“Were you on campus?” She asked as Emma settled in at the table.

Emma nodded as she took a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, just had my final meeting with Doctor Woods, now that graduation is nearly upon us.”

Even as Sutton’s stomach fluttered with that nervous feeling that was becoming synonymous with the word graduation, she lifted her mug and tapped it lightly against Emma. Cheers.

“Oh my god,” Regan’s voice pulled both of their attentions. She’d turned Sutton’s laptop to face her, leaning in to critically stare at the screen. “I didn’t realize that you were still working on this application! Is this the only thing you’ve been doing over here this whole time?”

Sutton frowned, defensively. “I just want to do it right.”

Regan lifted her gaze to stare at Sutton, clearly baffled. “You’re going to do great. You just have to shoot through a few responses. I thought you finished this one days ago!”

“It’s not that easy,” she shot back.

At least, it didn’t feel all that easy to Sutton.

What was coming next for her in life, for the first time, didn’t feel simple to her, at all.

For the first time in her life, she needed to get a job. Like, a real job.

She was about to graduate with her master’s degree – in less than a week, now – and time was ticking for her to definitively plan her next step.

And the reality was that… it was scary. Finally being out in the real world, without having a solid plan in regard to what came next, was terrifying, actually.

She had a few tentative ideas about the future. About her future. But she’d never been out of school, before. Never longer than a few months, anyway, for a holiday break.

It was time for her to be an actual adult and experience life beyond the confines of academia.

And until she had that solid plan figured out, she needed to get a job.

That had always been the deal with her parents; they would support her, financially, as long as she was in school. But if she wasn’t, then she needed a job to support herself.

She had absolutely no problem with that! Obviously, Sutton knew how lucky she was, to be fortunate enough to have parents that not only had the financial means to support her as she’d meandered into adulthood, but parents that loved her and wanted to support her while she found her way.

It was just… how did she really know what her way was? What if she made a mistake in choosing her way?

With the future barreling toward her, this was the thought that was constantly circling through her mind.

“I already told you, bitch, that you can just come and work here!” Regan scoffed at her, exasperatedly.

Sutton was grateful, though, as it pulled her out of her ruminating thoughts. Which, honestly, was a big reason why she was doing this at the café and not at home. Because lately – as graduation drew nearer and nearer – Sutton’s mind was clogged with these rushing thoughts.

She was even more grateful, because Regan’s comment made her really laugh for the first time in hours.

“And I already told you – absolutely not, in a million years.” The absurdity of the very idea of working with Regan at Topped Off was genuinely hilarious to her.

Regan tossed her hands in the air, indignant. “Why not! It could be great! You and me, back together!”

Emma chuckled darkly as she turned to stare at Regan. “And… when have you two not been together?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sutton agreed.

Regan rolled her eyes. “I was obviously embellishing for effect. But it really could be great! Especially because Mina is moving in a couple of weeks, and she has fulfilled a very vital role for me, here. You could be that role-filler.”

Sutton hummed, wrapping her hands around her cup. “Yes, and I’m very sorry you’ll be losing her. But I truly think I would be the absolute worst replacement.”

In fact, she shuddered at the very idea.

Even taking away the reality of working at Topped Off – there was absolutely nothing wrong with working at the café, but Sutton couldn’t imagine herself getting through the morning or evening rushes with any semblance of grace.

Even taking away the idea of working with Regan – sure, it would be fun, but Sutton could only envision it going very, very badly in so many ways, for both of them.

But Mina was Regan’s favorite per-diem, part-time worker. She was Regan’s ringer; the person she called in first whenever someone called out from a shift, trying to get coverage. Mina came in and covered shifts at all hours of the day, on very little notice.

Just the thought of that lack of consistency literally made Sutton’s stomach churn, and she shivered in disgust. She arched a challenging look at Regan across the table. “Do you really think that schedule – or lack thereof – could possibly work for me?”

Sutton loved her consistency. Even more than that, she loved her sleep schedule.

Regan sighed heavily, as she slumped down in her chair. “No. Even at slumber parties, you always made everyone follow the lights out by eleven rule.”

Emma snorted in laughter, as she shot Sutton an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

Sutton shrugged, leaning back in the chair as she crossed one leg over the other. “I’m a very serious rule-abider, and always have been.” She sniffed, defensively. “Besides, I’m tired at night. And in high school, I had track meets in the mornings!”

Regan dropped her hand to Emma’s shoulder, regaining her attention, as she very seriously informed her, “Do you understand how difficult of a job I had, taking up the mantle as her best friend and biggest defender in the face of our friends at sleepovers?”

Emma slowly lifted her eyebrows and pointedly slid away from Regan’s touch, even as she sarcastically responded, “Yes, I can imagine how difficult your life was.”

“Besides, Regan,” Sutton drew both of their attention toward her, wanting to head off any potential sniping at each other. “I need something full-time.”

She nodded her head down toward her notebook, where she’d been workshopping her answers to the application questions.

“Fine, yes. But you’ve been obsessed with this specific job ever since Emma sent it to you almost a week ago. It’s an application for a personal assistant to a congresswoman, not the Princess of Alardus. A brand-new member of the House of Representatives, at that. It’s not like she’s a revered senator or something.” Regan waved her hand dismissively in the direction of Sutton’s laptop.

Sutton shot her a disapproving look, even as she pointedly turned to look at Emma. “I still appreciate, by the way, you giving me the lead for this job.”

“No problem.” Emma shrugged. “It feels up your alley, if you’re looking for something transitional.” She gave Sutton a small, conspiratorial smile. “We could leave the world of teaching assistance behind to embark on the journey of being personal assistants together.”

Sutton smiled back. Honestly, she liked the idea of that; it made her feel less alone.

Emma had started her job as the assistant to Allegra Pantone at Olly two weeks ago, and through the grapevine of other assistants at her new job, she’d heard that Charlotte Thompson was looking for a personal assistant.

Sutton had applied for a few other jobs in the last few weeks. A handful of other administrative positions. One at a library – that had been her top contender before this had fallen into her lap.

Regan groaned. “Great, you two can grow even closer as besties, and I’ll be here. Making coffee and being alllll alone.”

Sutton arched an eyebrow at her. “Yes, because it certainly looks like you are desperately wanting for company, now.”

Unbothered, Regan shrugged. “I think it would be great if you got this job, babe, really. Because you seem to be really invested in it, and that’s awesome.” Regan tightly rolled her lips together, her expression telling Sutton that she had another comment still to make.

She waited for it, staring her best friend down.

She didn’t have to wait for long.

Regan blew out a deep breath. “I just have to wonder if this intense fixation over this particular job has anything to do with how stunningly attractive Charlotte Thompson is.”

And there it was.

Sutton’s cheeks flamed with heat, even as she dismissively rolled her eyes. “Give me a break; I’m not applying for a job based on how attractive someone is or isn’t. That’s insane.”

She was telling the utter truth; Regan was insane.

“Besides, there are thousands of incredibly attractive people in the world. You don’t see me following them around, trying to work for them?” She challenged.

“Also, Doctor Martin is not a stunner,” Emma added, helpfully.

Triumphant, Sutton nodded at her. “Thank you!”

Because while her current boss was brilliant, he was very much not a dreamboat.

Regan made a pfft sound. “You worked for him before you knew you were attracted to women, too! You’re waaaay more of a bumbling idiot around women than you are with men!”

Irritatingly, Regan was… not wrong on that front.

Regan leaned in, lowering her voice to that teasing tone as she asked, “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t think Charlotte Thompson is super hot?”

Feeling herself blush even more, Sutton bit the inside of her cheek. “Obviously I… she’s… obviously,” she settled on, before she sent a beseeching look at Emma.

One that she hoped read can you jump in here, please.

Emma merely shrugged. “She is super hot.”

Regan drummed her hands on the table, victoriously. “Thank you for the support!”

Emma shot her an exasperated glare. “I’m just stating a fact; don’t go crazy.”

“Well, I’m not applying to work for her because she’s attractive,” Sutton shut down, summoning her best impersonation of her mother’s authoritative tone.

Needing a break from this conversation, she pushed herself up. “I’m going to the bathroom. And when I come back, I’m really hoping that we can talk about anything else.”

With that, she walked toward the back of the café, pushing open the well-kept restroom door.

She didn’t really have to pee; she just needed a little break. A little reset. With that, she walked forward and washed her hands in the sink.

Honestly, if anything, the fact that Charlotte appeared so ethereally beautiful in photos and videos made Sutton hesitant to apply. Yes, she’d gone out with a few women in the last year. She’d slept with a couple of them. She’d even had a near-relationship for a couple of months. And yet… she still found herself a little tongue-tied around beautiful, charming women.

She was getting better! Definitely better than she’d been a year ago.

But she had a long way to go before she’d be able to look someone as attractive as Charlotte Thompson in the eye and flirt without making a fool of herself.

That was, if her campaign ads were as accurate in life as they were on the internet.

Regardless, it didn’t matter.

Sutton shook her head as she shut off the water and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was down and she was wearing her glasses, because she’d been having a lot of restless nights lately.

“You will figure this out,” she quietly assured herself. “This is something everyone goes through in life, and now it’s your turn.”

Slowly drawing in a deep, calming breath, she turned and dried her hands, before combing them through her hair.

All right. She would go back, hang out with her friends for a few minutes, and then she would finally finish this application. She was calm. She was approaching the future calmly.

Only, as she walked back into the café, all of her previous calm flew right out the fucking window. She stumbled to a stop in the middle of Topped Off as she saw Regan grinning mischievously, typing on her laptop.

She rushed forward, reaching for the computer and sliding it away from Regan as soon as she was within reach. “What are you doing?!” She hissed, incredulous and annoyed.

“Sutton, stop!” Regan cried, her teasing smile fading as she gasped. She reached out for Sutton’s laptop, desperately trying to grab at it.

Sutton set her jaw, livid, as she held the laptop securely away from Regan. “What the hell were you doing?” She asked again.

Because she knew what screen she’d left up – that empty application screen.

Regan hopped up from the chair, holding her hands out cautiously in front of her. “Sutton, seriously, just stop for a second! When you pulled the computer away, I’m not sure but I think? I think I felt my wrist tap against the trackpad.”

Emma sucked in a sharp, alarmed breath.

Alarmed and terrified, herself, Sutton quickly set her laptop down on the table and stared down – hoping against hope – that Regan was wrong. That she hadn’t actually tapped on anything that shouldn’t have been tapped on.

Application sent!

“Regan!” She cried, dismally, gesturing at her laptop. “What did you do!”

Immediately, she turned her attention back to her computer, as disappointment, thick and heavy, worked through her veins, combining to sink in her stomach like a lead weight.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, frantically trying to undo it. Going back, trying to refresh the page. Could she unsend it?

Nope. She could not.

“Why would you do that?” She asked, cutting Regan a glare.

Regan, for her credit, looked full of remorse. Her dark eyes were wide and apologetic, as she shook her head vehemently and still held her hands up in defense. “I wasn’t going to submit it; I didn’t submit it! It only got submitted because you pulled the laptop away from me!”

“Oh, yeah, my bad,” Sutton acerbically muttered, pulling out her chair and falling into it.

Regan mirrored her pose, hesitantly reaching out over the table toward Sutton, clearly trying to explain herself. “I just was trying to lighten the moment a little bit. Trying to get you to laugh, and not put so much pressure on yourself. I promise. I wasn’t going to do anything!”

At a loss for words, Sutton shot a baffled look at Emma. “You just sat there while she did this?!”

Because – out of anyone – she couldn’t imagine Emma watching Regan do something so absolutely insane without any commentary or judgment.

Emma flushed, looking down at her own lap. “I… regretfully… admit that I found it slightly entertaining. Trust me, I really regret it at this moment, and have to consider it a very large lapse in judgment.”

What an amazing time for Emma to find amusement in Regan’s actions, truly.

Helplessly, Sutton looked down at the answers Regan had submitted.

What three qualities about yourself that make you the best choice for this role?

               I have beautiful hair
               I’ve been answering the phone for decades
               You’re a political nepo-baby, I’m a political nepo-baby… obviously it just makes sense to team up

What are your career aspirations?

               Why, being a personal assistant, of course!

Where did your interest in politics begin?

               I had that Barbie that was the president, so…

What has been the most politically formative moment in your life?

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

“What the fuck,” Sutton breathed, angrily tapping her hand against her notebook. The one that was full of the answers she’d been workshopping for days!

Desperately, she clicked all around the page. She shut out of the browser and started anew, opening the application from the very beginning, thinking that she could maybe start it all over again and explain that this was a joke or something?

Nothing worked, as it recognized her email address.

Besides, even if she could do that, what the hell would she say? Why would a congresswoman grant her a second look, now? Even if Sutton could explain this as a ridiculous accident, even if she could submit her own answers, it was pointless now.

Whoever worked for Charlotte Thompson that would see this application would dismiss anything Sutton would possibly send, after this.

Hopeless and frustrated and just so – ugh, she grabbed the rest of her belongings and quickly started putting them in her bag. “I’m going home. I assume – at the very least – that this tea is now on the house?”

Sheepishly, Regan hung her head. “It already was.”

Regan snapped her head up, then, eyes wide. “I’ll go and find Charlotte Thompson’s office first thing in the morning, and I’ll tell her in person what happened! I’ll explain it!”

“Dear god,” Sutton muttered in horror. She could only imagine how that would go. “If there’s one thing I need you not to do, it’s that. I don’t have the first clue how to bail someone out of jail.”

Regan wrung her hands together, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, Sutton. I really, really am. It was just meant to be a stupid, dumb, silly joke, because I know how stressed you’ve been over this.”

Sighing, Sutton rubbed at the bridge of her nose and reached for her patience. Even when Regan tried it, she always could summon it for her best friend, who always meant well; Sutton knew that. “It’s… fine. Really. I just want to go home, so I’ll see you later.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder and started toward the door.

“I’ll make it up to you!” Regan called out as she reached the exit.

Sutton waved a hand over her shoulder in acknowledgment as she left.

As she walked home, Sutton pressed a hand over her stomach, unable to stop thinking about how much of a fucking fool she looked like on that application.

She supposed, though, that it really was… fine.

Yes, she’d been drawn to this job since she’d heard about it. Yes, she’d been putting a lot of time and energy into trying to write the perfect responses to the questions.

But Charlotte Thompson was going to get a ton of applicants. She’d definitely receive applications from people who actually had relevant experience, unlike Sutton. There was a good chance Sutton wouldn’t have gotten to even the final round of interviews, even if she’d been able to submit her own answers.

And, at the very least, it wasn’t like Charlotte Thompson would see her application, herself. Sutton was sure of that. There would be some other admin staff that reviewed all of the applicants, who would get either some amusement or irritation at Sutton/Regan’s answers, and then promptly designate her to the Do Not Hire folder.

Which was not the worst thing ever.

Sutton had applied for a handful of other jobs already, and she’d keep looking for more. It wasn’t as though her parents were going to cut her off immediately after she graduated if she didn’t have a job; they’d never let her become unhoused or go without food.

As she walked into her apartment, she slid her bag from her shoulder and placed it on the kitchen table, before she fished her phone out of her pocket. She’d felt it vibrate multiple times on her way home, but she’d known it was Regan trying to apologize and she hadn’t wanted to respond, yet.

Yes, she was unsurprised to see four texts from Regan.

She dismissed the notifications; she’d look at them later. For now, she’d let Regan sit in the consequences of her actions for a little while.

When she got to the final notification, everything inside of her froze even as her blood started to rush in her ears.

An email. From Charlotte Thompson’s office.

Re: Application the subject read.

Her stomach sank. Charlotte already had someone working for her in the evenings that had already seen Sutton’s application?!

Closing her eyes tightly, she drew in a deep breath and tightly gripped her phone.

At the very least, it was already over with. Some admin got an eyeroll from Sutton’s application and was thanks-but-no-thanks emailing her to put her out of her misery in a very timely manner.

Still dreading looking at the email, Sutton pursed her lips and pushed herself to just get it over with.

Sutton Spencer –

Really? This is the application I’m receiving from the daughter of a governor? Fascinating.

Your interview is scheduled for tomorrow at noon, in my office. Details listed below.

If you have any character, you’ll show up in person to back your application and these, frankly, inane and disrespectful responses. Unless, of course, you submitted it thinking that you’re amusing, deliberately wanting to be a waste of my time, and you don’t have the courage to look me in the eye.

Charlotte Thompson
House of Representatives

What?!

WHAT?

Charlotte freaking Thompson personally reviewed every application for this job?! That – no… that made no sense!

Her hands shook as her stomach twisted so hard, she thought she might vomit, and she quickly wrote back.

Congresswoman Thompson,

I swear to you, I didn’t submit that thinking that I was being amusing or wanting to waste your time!

Actually, I didn’t submit it at all.

I suppose, well, that I did submit it, but I wasn’t the one that typed it. I swear. It was all a big misunderstanding. I have much better, thoughtful answers that I can submit, immediately, if you’ll reopen the application?

I’m so incredibly sorry about this.

Sutton

She could only stare down at her phone, feeling lightheaded from the anticipation and anxiety. Even as she told herself that there was a good chance Charlotte wasn’t going to respond.

And, if she did, she wasn’t going to do it immediately –

She almost dropped her phone in shock as she received the notification almost as quickly as she’d sent her own response.

Ms. Spencer –

No, I will not reopen the application.

If you want to convince me that you have any substantive thoughts – more aptly, if you are going to continue to stick by your “my dog ate my homework” excuse and not take responsibility for this – you can do it in person.

Tomorrow. At noon. My office.

Charlotte Thompson
House of Representatives

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