by Haley Cass
It didn’t work with this woman, though, whose grin widened and she reached for a cup without taking her eyes off of Charlotte’s face. She dug out a marker. “Can I get a name for that?”
There were alarm bells ringing in her head, and instead of answering, Charlotte peeked around at the few other patrons – many of whom didn’t have names on their cups – before she deliberately stared at the cup the other girl was filling for Mr. Spencer, which was also blank.
She pointedly turned back to this Regan woman and she took a moment to scan over her face. There was no way she’d ever hooked up with her; there may have been many women and there may have been some alcohol involved in several hookups, but she didn’t forget a face.
She didn’t think this was someone she’d ever even met with in the past. The woman looked highly entertained, though, and the expression irritated her.
Regan-the-barista followed her gaze. “Oh, Beth never writes the names. She’s new.” She ignored the indignant “Hey!” called out from the woman behind her, as well as the dirty look.
Charlotte merely sighed; she had limited time with Jack Spencer and she didn’t want to waste it. “Charlotte.”
When Regan cackled, Charlotte narrowed her eyes.
“I’m not laughing at your name. Promise,” she assured as Charlotte paid.
She knew to doubt the validity of this reassurance with such mirth dancing in her eyes. Still, she turned to face Jack, who didn’t look nearly as concerned as she did by the behavior that could only be classified as weird.
He shrugged. “That’s my daughter’s friend; she’s always been a high-energy girl.”
It wasn’t comforting because Charlotte still got the feeling that Regan knew something she didn’t. Reading people was her skill and as far as she knew, it wasn’t Jack Spencer’s.
Limited time, she reminded herself. “So, if Katherine won’t be joining you, are you still going to be attending the charity fundraiser while you’re in town?”
She knew he had a plus one; she’d even called the event planner to double check and wheedled her way into getting their seating arrangement changed so that she could sit across from Jack and his plus one.
“Yes. I’ll be there.”
His face was almost comically the picture of displeasure at the prospect of spending the night rubbing elbows with the New York elite. It set her at ease, though, as this was all in his expected profile.
“So will I. The event is actually to raise money for a youth organization I’ve worked closely with; it’s an extremely good cause,” she slipped in, sincerely. The improvement of the free health clinic for homeless teens had been one of her greatest achievements in the last few years.
He gave her a considering look. “I’ve heard of some of the work done there.”
His tone was as positive as she would have expected, but not very open to conversation. She worked around it. “Will anyone be joining you at the function?”
His eyes warmed notably and she knew she’d hit her target. “Yes, actually. My daughter agreed to come.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m sure she won’t find it too boring. You said she’s in grad school right now?”
“Yes. And far better at upholding her social graces than I am; she gets that from her mother.” He turned to accept his coffee from the second girl – Beth – with a small smile, and a generous tip in the jar.
“Order up, Charlotte!” Regan called, placing the cup at the other end of the counter, but not letting it go.
Charlotte kept her expression congenial. “Did you make it special?”
She was met with a wide smile. “Of course. From the heart, with lots of . . . experience.”
That tone sounded the warning bells even louder in her mind, as she reached out to accept her cup, eyes now narrowing the slightest bit. “Sounds perfect, thank you.”
She dropped a tip in the jar, hoping by some nature that her money was going to Beth at the end of the day.
She walked to the station with the sugar, feeling Regan’s eyes on her back. When the bell over the door rang to signal someone coming in, she was stirring in her sugar, and the only mind she paid to it was that she heard Regan call out, “Welcome, my beautiful, bright ray of redheaded sunshine!”
“Hello to you, too, weirdo,” an appealingly husky, feminine voice said back, in a much quieter, calmer tone. Though, Charlotte noted, not a surprised tone. Perhaps Jack was right in saying that Regan was just a strange woman.
Shaking her head, Charlotte turned, first skimming her eyes over Regan dismissively, before turning farther. The woman who’d walked in had her back to Charlotte, as she faced Jack. His daughter, she decided in a moment, even before she threw her arms around his neck.
She could see his face over her shoulder, melting into a warm smile, and for a moment, she saw the man he must be around his family. A loving father, clearly. That was a nice surprise; it was rare for her to see such genuine affection in this world. Her own parents included.
She took a sip of her coffee as she turned her attention to the daughter. She was barely on her tiptoes as she had her arms wrapped around his neck in a hug – she was tall. A few inches taller than herself, without a doubt.
And no wonder, as she took in legs encased in tight jeans. Long, clearly lithely muscled legs that went on for miles, apparently. Charlotte took a deep breath in through her nose even though she didn’t stop herself from continuing her gaze up and over her ass.
Which was just as phenomenal to look at as her legs were – or better.
Her eyebrow quirked slightly in interest before she shook her head at herself. She was thankful that she knew that she was discrete, because checking out the daughter of the man she wanted to win over – who always appeared to have somewhat traditional ideals – that was not a smart plan, no matter how subtle the checking out was.
But still. Damn.
With a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the counter, ignoring Regan whose gaze she could still feel. Slowly, she walked closer. Close enough to hear the daughter with the fantastic ass say, “I’m so happy you’re here,” as they pulled back from their hug.
Regan pointedly cleared her throat from behind everyone. “I’m happy we’re all here.”
“What are you on today?” The exasperation was clear in Jack Spencer’s daughter’s tone as she turned.
And it was only as she turned that Charlotte’s eyes caught on the long braid pulled over her shoulder. The long braid of soft-looking, smooth, shiny gorgeous red hair. A shade that not many people had, but a one that seemed familiar to Charlotte.
Even if she’d only seen it in a picture.
Her heart started to pound uncomfortable as her gaze darted up at the woman’s face, and – oh, yeah. There was no mistaking it, even from the few pictures she’d seen.
A well-defined jaw, skin that was just as flawless at it had been in the picture, with full pink lips, and a softly sloping nose. But it was the eyes that made her breath catch. The picture hadn’t been able to do them justice, the brilliant blue that they were.
Eyes that landed right on her, staring wide in shock.
A shock that Charlotte refused to mirror on her own face, keeping her features schooled, even as her mind felt like it was absolutely screaming.
Charlotte always had a backup plan or managed to figure one out quickly. Jack Spencer goes missing? She finds out how to track him down. Jack Spencer’s daughter turns out to be Sutton, the woman who not only knew about the sexuality that she kept very private around other politicians, but knew the ins and outs of Charlotte’s sexual experiences . . .
It was enough to make her head spin and for the first time, she felt a small jolt of panic dart through her. This was so far from her realm of what to expect, that she found herself speechless for a few seconds. Which, alone, was enough to startle her into action.
Shaking her head, she made sure her smile was kept in place.
Thankfully, though, Jack stepped in. “This is my oldest dau
ghter, Sutton.”
“Sutton Spencer,” she murmured, the name flowing smoothly from her lips.
She didn’t take her eyes from Sutton’s face. Sutton, who was still staring at her, eyes wide, cheeks blushing a profuse red. God, of course Sutton blushed like that. In another situation, Charlotte might have found it cute.
Actually, she did find it cute.
But this was certainly not the time or place. She wished she could mentally communicate with Sutton to just . . . get through the next few minutes, without outing Charlotte or saying anything that implicated anything.
“Charlotte?” Her name fell from Sutton’s lips in a soft, mystified question.
She wanted to squeeze her eyes closed for a few moments, just to gather her thoughts at whatever train wreck this was turning into. But she didn’t – couldn’t – and instead, she finally dragged her eyes away from Sutton, and looked at her father.
Who looked between the two of them. “You two know one another?”
He settled the question on Sutton, who coughed as her cheeks were still stained red. “I – um – yes. Kind of. I mean, we . . .”
Sweet Sutton, she realized at that moment, had not only not been with a woman, but was either not out to her family or was not comfortable enough with them to talk about her endeavors on a dating app.
Either way, Charlotte could work with that and she cleared her throat to get their attention. “We met here, once. Regan mixed up our orders and gave me Sutton’s tea by mistake.”
She threw the barista a look, who was watching the exchange with an enthralled smile. It was no wonder that she’d been so excited by Charlotte’s arrival in the coffee shop – as far as she knew by Sutton’s own description, Regan loved this kind of thing.
Regan shrugged, unabashedly. “Yeah, I stepped right into the middle of their meeting, Mr. Spencer. You wouldn’t believe it.”
Finally, at that comment, Sutton’s wide eyes left Charlotte and she threw a glare at Regan. Who, though she clearly pushed boundaries, didn’t say anything farther.
“That’s Regan, always making a mess of situations that she has no business being involved in,” Sutton bit out. Those startlingly blue eyes flickered back to Charlotte. “I . . . what are you doing here?”
It was strange being addressed by Sutton in person. She offered a small smile. “I was getting a cup of coffee.”
“Charlotte works at the mayor’s office. Her grandmother works at the Thompson Foundation,” Jack explained, and Charlotte couldn’t be happier that he seemed rather oblivious to the atmosphere. When she looked back in retrospect, she would also find it amusing that he’d referred to her grandmother as holding her current job running the Foundation as opposed to her presidency title. “She’ll be attending the dinner tomorrow.”
Realization dawned on Sutton’s face, Charlotte watched it happen, and she could see the wheels turning. All of the times she’d talked about meetings, all of the hours she’d kept, it was snapping into place.
She prayed to god that in that realization, Sutton was also seeing why she’d been so pointedly private.
“Oh,” Sutton muttered, staring at her for a moment, before another blush crept up her neck.
Charlotte had hit on this woman, this tall, gorgeous woman standing in front of her. The woman who knew her as a lesbian – who was somewhat of a friend to her. Who was also the daughter of a very important politician, whose favor Charlotte wanted to win. It was a strange, and unpredictable clashing of her worlds. Worlds that she’d never intended to or wanted to bring together.
Her façade didn’t fade at all, her expression still unchanged even as her thoughts ran a mile a minute. What was clear, though, was that she needed to leave before anything was said or done to clue Jack Spencer in to the atmosphere around him.
She stepped forward to offer her hand to him. “It was nice to see you again, Mr. Spencer.”
He shook her hand briefly, returning her sentiment.
Then she turned to Sutton, who met her eyes, looking down at her as long lashes fluttered. “It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.”
Sutton’s voice was soft, almost as soft as the hand she offered. She let herself take a moment to enjoy the warm softness of her palm against her own, long fingers clasping around hers for a brief moment. Only a moment, though.
She cleared her throat and pulled back, composing herself, as she shot Sutton a small smirk. “Don’t you mean nice to meet you again?”
Sutton’s eyes darted to her father. “Um, yes. That.”
“I should be going. I’ve a meeting soon.” It was an easy lie. “Have a good afternoon.”
“Good luck,” Sutton murmured, and Charlotte’s gaze snapped to her. Sutton, for her part, didn’t even realize she’d said it, until her eyes went wide, then closed tightly. “I just – in your meeting. Good luck.”
Charlotte felt her lips tick up into an inevitable smirk, one she often wore when texting Sutton. “Thank you.”
“Bye, Charlotte! It was a pleasure seeing you!” Regan's voice followed her as she started to walk.
With a measured expression, she turned to face her. “A pleasure,” she echoed, and decided resolutely that everything Sutton had told her about Regan was definitely true.
She shook her head as she left the café, and she only allowed herself to look back once the door closed behind her. Sutton was staring at her, still looking shocked – as much, if not more, than Charlotte felt.
Lifting her eyebrow, Charlotte took a deep breath and shook out her shoulders as she walked away.
Out of every scenario she could have thought of, running into Sutton, who happened to be Sutton Spencer, the daughter of Jack Spencer, Massachusetts Senator . . . hadn’t been on any list of possibilities.
Now she had to figure out how in the hell to handle it. Though she fancied herself to have a plan for everything, she truly hadn't thought to have a plan for this.
Chapter 5
Sutton kept her promise to attend the charity event with her father the evening after the disastrously awkward meeting with Charlotte for a small handful of reasons.
First, she’d promised her mother she would take her place for the event after her mom had to cancel in order to make a deadline for her next novel.
Second, she rarely got to spend one on one time with her father and she didn’t want to pass up the opportunity.
Third, Regan had pushed her into it by threatening to go in her place if she canceled on her father.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Regan had excitedly stated that Charlotte had been checking her out at Topped Off. Nothing to do with wanting to see Charlotte again . . .
Okay, so even if she did want to see her again, she was still mortified at her reaction to seeing Charlotte in person. The last thing she needed was to spend time with Charlotte, a lesbian who knew about her sexuality and could so easily make her blush, while with her father.
They hadn’t texted one another since the interaction, though, which left Sutton feeling more uncertain than ever. Clearly, Charlotte kept her political life far separate from her personal life and Sutton – she just hadn’t been prepared for her in real life. At all.
As she arrived at the lavish function hall, she took a second to take it all in.
Once upon a time – when she’d been barely a teenager – lavish events like this, filled with wealthy, important people, had been something she dreamed about. She’d been the only one of her siblings who actually liked to attend parties and formal dinners and fundraisers.
The glamor had faded, though, when she’d gotten a bit older and seen that the wealthy, important people weren’t the people she’d idolized them to be. It had become especially evident when she’d dated Joshua, whose parents had more money than God and had lived in New York, and thus attended and hosted more parties and dinners with these glamorous people in a couple of months than Sutton’s parents did in a year.
Even after her disillusionment, Sutton remained the Sp
encer sibling that enjoyed these events the most, who did the best at remembering who was who, and what she should say.
Hopefully she could do that tonight, even when she saw Charlotte.
With a deep breath to try to calm her nerves, she held her hands against her stomach, pressing into the soft material as if it would help relax her. The dress she’d ended up in was chosen after a debate with Regan, and was a compromise. Sutton refused to wear one of her dresses that wrapped tightly around her hips, cleavage, or butt, nor would she wear one that only reached mid-thigh.
But she’d conceded that she also wouldn’t wear one of her more conservative choices, either.
So, she’d ended up in what was actually one of her favorites. A royal blue color, with soft fabric that was snug over her abdomen and had a modest neckline, but that left her shoulders and arms bare. It belted at the waist, and the skirt fell loosely to just above her knees. She’d flat out refused to wear the shoes Regan wanted her to wear – fucking stilettos, yeah, right – and instead went with flats.
She’d run a straightener through her hair quickly, leaving it down and over her shoulders. Even if she’d wanted to do something with it, she’d had no time. As it was, she’d called her dad and told him that she would meet him at the fundraiser, rather than him picking her up, because it would give her a little more time to get ready.
She was cutting it close, as they were supposed to be inside and seated within the next few minutes. There were only a few people still milling around out on the front terrace, and it was easy to spot her father among them.
Seeing him outside of the large double doors that were open enough to let echoes of conversation spill out, looking vaguely uncomfortable with his hands in his suit pockets, waiting for her made her smile. It didn’t make her apprehension disappear, but it did comfort her, just a bit.
“I’m sorry I’m a little late.”
“Don’t worry about that.” He gave her an appraising look. “Are you feeling all right?”
No, actually, I feel as though I might be sick because you don’t know it, but I’m bisexual, and the woman who has been acting as my secretive online lesbian guru is basically your coworker who is here tonight, and she’s so gorgeous it’s almost painful.