by Haley Cass
“Ah, yes, I can recall,” she murmured, easily thinking to her first and only interaction with Jack. Granted, it had been torpedoed by her also meeting Sutton face-to-face, but still.
“But I figured that I could help a bit,” Sutton stood proudly, a hint of excitement in her tone. “And give you some personal information that you might not have and maybe make some introductions for you.” A deep blush spread over Sutton’s cheeks as she was quick to add, “Not that you need my help, because I’m sure you could do it on your own. Because you’re, well, you.”
Her voice was soft and she was peering at Charlotte through her eyelashes in a way that she could feel down to her toes. She’d had people believe in her ambitions and ability to get where she wanted to be in life. But her grandmother’s mentoring and her family’s general encouragement didn’t feel quite like this.
That feeling warred for a moment with her instinctive want to turn down the help. It was a fiercely independent streak she’d had for far longer than she could remember; it was one thing to cultivate a team to work with, because Charlotte wasn’t stupid and she knew she could get virtually nowhere in politics alone.
It was another entirely to rely on someone who wasn’t on your political campaign or a member of your family to work with. Especially someone you were trying your damndest to maintain a normal distance from.
“I want tonight to be worth your time. Not just . . . something you ended up coming to because of me, and not getting anything out of it,” Sutton finished, brushing her hands over her stomach in the way Charlotte recognized as one of her little anxious habits.
More than anything though, she hated the uncertain look written all over Sutton’s face. It was surprisingly easy to say, “It wouldn’t be a waste, Sutton. At the very least, I’d see you on New Year’s,” she teased.
No, she didn’t typically accept help from most people, nor did she think she needed to.
But this was Sutton.
“I’d be happy to have your help. At least until you believe I can charm some stubborn politicians and socialites on my own.”
The smile that slid over Sutton’s face made her heart skip a beat. She wanted to reach out and place her hand over Sutton’s to stop her fidgeting and just to feel that thing between them.
Her hands remained at her sides.
“I think you probably really wouldn’t have any issues with that,” Sutton’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, and the quiet tone had her unconsciously swaying a bit closer.
Okay, she couldn’t help but let her eyes flicker to those full, pink lips. Subtle lipstick, Charlotte noted, most likely smudge resistant.
“I appreciate your vote of confidence,” she murmured back, and she wondered when exactly Sutton moved even closer to her or if she was imagining that.
“It’s hard to not be confident in your abilities,” she sounded nearly breathless and Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from flickering her eyes back down to her mouth.
“Sutton? What are you doing back here?” Jack’s voice from behind her startled Charlotte enough that her heart started pounding in her chest, and she barely refrained from jumping back guiltily.
Not that she had anything to be guilty of, she reminded herself, taking a split-second to regain her composure. Because the last thing she needed was for Jack Spencer to stumble across her just as she was seconds away from giving in to kissing his daughter against the wall in a dark hallway in his home.
Especially when she shouldn’t be doing it at all.
“Dad!” Sutton’s eyes were wide and despite the fact that it was dimly lit, she could see the flush on her cheeks. She licked her lips before she asked, “What are you doing back here?”
Damn if the suspicious look on Jack Spencer’s face as he looked between her and Sutton in this dimly-lit alcove off of a back hallway as they’d been holding hands didn’t make her stomach knot up.
She slowly blew out her breath and fixed a small smile on her face as gray eyes slowly flickered from Sutton to her. “I was just finishing up some work in my office.” He gestured vaguely down the opposite end of the hallway that they’d come from.
They were standing so close she could feel the deep breath Sutton took in. “Us, too! That is to say, um, Charlotte and I were talking about one of the initiatives she’s been thinking about . . .”
Sutton trailed off, coughing a bit, and Charlotte almost wanted to smile at it – especially because, since when was Sutton so quick on thinking on her feet when put in such a situation? – but Jack was still giving them a clearly suspicious look.
She merely straightened her spine and resolutely did not inch away from Sutton, no matter what their proximity said about them. Charlotte did not flinch away from a situation, especially when she hadn’t been doing anything wrong, she reminded herself. Another minute, and maybe she could have been –
Fixing on a smile, she nodded. “Yes, we were actually discussing the policy I’ve been planning to enact this winter season, providing more shelters and sustenance for the homeless population in the city. Very similar to the policy you have in assisting the low-income population in Boston.”
The best lies, after all, came from a truth, and that initiative was a truth.
After a few long moments running his eyes over the both of them, he scratched at his chin and nodded. “Right.” He drew his hand through his hair before blowing out a deep sigh. “Well, if you’d like I could send along some of my foundations for enacting that policy; they were somewhat difficult to get entirely approved and I imagine you will run into even more red tape in New York. Sutton can bring them back for you.”
The smile that she’d kept plastered to her face nearly fell in genuine shock. “Really? That would be incredible. Thank you so much, Mr. Spencer.”
“It’s no trouble. And you can call me Jack,” he offered quietly, before looking between them again with a look that was more perplexed than anything.
But for this once, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Then thank you, Jack,” she corrected, her smile melting into one much more real.
He continued to study them even as he took a step backward out into the hall. “I should be checking in with your mother about the party.”
Though he didn’t leave.
Even when Sutton nodded. “You probably should.”
He eyed the alcove. “Yes. And you two should get moving along as well. Everyone is starting to arrive.”
His words weren’t commanding so much as speculative. He was definitely dad-Jack instead of politician-Jack right now. Despite being a tough nut to crack when it came to politics, she would rather try to talk shop than engage dad-mode Jack Spencer, who may or may not know that she’d slept with his daughter.
So, she followed his lead and edged back out into the hallway. “You’re absolutely right. It would be a terrible shame to miss even a moment.”
That garnered her a thoughtful smile even as Sutton impatiently brushed by him. “Talk to you later, Dad.”
She could sense his eyes on them as they walked down the hallway, and it took everything she had not to let herself think more about the interaction than taking it at face value. As they turned the corner, her spine relaxed a bit.
It was so easy – too easy – to sway into Sutton a bit, nudging her with her arm. “That went well.”
The cute little furrow between Sutton’s brows didn’t disappear even when she did that thing where she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Yeah,” she agreed, slowly, “It’s just – odd.” Those blue eyes turned to her finally. “He just – he’s never so forthright about politicians he’s unfamiliar with calling him Jack. Or, most people in general when he doesn’t really know them.”
Sutton didn’t move away, instead pressing their arms closer together, and the warmth was so alarmingly comforting.
“Maybe he likes me,” she dared to tease.
Pink lips curled into a smile, even as Sutton shook her
head slightly. “I guess so. Who wouldn’t?”
Eyes narrowed as her stomach betrayed her and dipped with a pleasant warmth Charlotte nudged her again. “Smooth woman.”
“Honest woman,” Sutton corrected as they neared the grand room again, where Charlotte couldn’t yet see inside but she could already hear that there were more people.
Now was not the time for distractions or feelings; it was showtime.
With a deep breath and a familiar feeling sliding through her at the prospect of networking – professional excitement, which was a rush she found headier than almost anything – she quirked an eyebrow. “Can you keep that good luck up with politicians who aren’t your father?”
Her tone was light, deliberately so, and it was an unfamiliar look that lit up Sutton’s eyes. Determination, she thought, filing it away, as Sutton nodded.
People Charlotte didn’t recognize on immediate sight now filled the room, and she’d admit that she was glad to have Sutton for this part. The very beginning, she assured herself, and then she would let Sutton get on with her evening while she networked solitarily.
In a move that surprised her, Sutton’s hand landed on her lower back to guide her as she murmured, “We should start over there,” Sutton nodded to the far side of the room, and Charlotte saw a tall, hulking man. “Perry Bennett. If you don’t get to him early, he’ll be too drunk to remember anything important.”
“He was in the military for years,” Sutton murmured, warm breath washing over her ear and making her shiver as they approached him. “And his oldest son is a Marine now.”
He’d greeted Sutton jovially, loudly – regarding her with barely more than a wary look after their introduction – before Sutton had segued into getting him to reminisce about the time he beat Jack while playing hockey, years ago. It was clearly something he’d loved to talk about, and Charlotte listened with a rapt look on her face, before Sutton cut in at the end, “Right! And Perry Jr. played too, right? How is he doing?”
The man was clearly proud of his son, boasting, “Fucking incredible!”
She hadn’t expected the ease with which Sutton drew her in, “Charlotte, a friend of mine from New York, is actually quite invested in military spending.”
“Yeah?” He was clearly weighing what he wanted to say to her – perfect time to cut in.
By the time they were done talking, she’d had an exchange of business cards and a rather jarring but exuberant pat on the shoulder. And so the night began.
Sutton led her from politicians to businessmen and businesswomen, all the while whispering information and providing seamless introductions – she provided personal and professional tidbits that there was no way Charlotte could have known even from her research:
“Kelly Kingston – even though she’s probably going to be the next choice for the Supreme Court, don’t bring it up. She loves skiing in Aspen, and her daughter just opened a winery – she loves talking about that.”
“Martin Jones – yes, the environmentalist. Talk about the exhibit we saw at the Met; he loves art. He wants to talk shop but everything you discuss is a pointless test until you gain his trust.”
“Sofia Rodriguez – talk up your work supporting immigration at the Youth Center and don’t ask about her family; she’ll think you’re being fake.”
They worked like a well-oiled machine, as if this routine had somehow, someway been rehearsed. When Sutton turned expectant, intelligent eyes onto her at a break in conversation, she was already extending her hand to introduce herself, and continued to walk away with genuine smiles and exchanged information.
They’d only bumped into one of Sutton’s siblings, the youngest, young with the promise to become handsome, with unruly auburn curls and a winning smile. He hurried past them, adjusting his bowtie with a grin. “Sorry, Sutton!” He not-so-subtly told Sutton, “She is pretty!”
It went without saying that she relished in the blush high on Sutton’s cheeks as she shoo’d her brother along, and in the way she’d toyed at the bottom of her sleeve as she’d quickly explained, “I, um, might have bribed my siblings to mind their own business tonight. Even Oliver. He’d rally for you over Naomi any day though.”
Along the way, she forgot that Sutton was doing this because she felt she’d forced Charlotte into being somewhere or doing something she hadn’t wanted to do tonight. She forgot that she’d expected Sutton to taper off and enjoy her evening with her friends and family.
It was so easy that she didn’t even realize how close they were standing and how much she was enjoying that warmth until they were leaning into one another next to one of the refreshment tables.
“Over two hours, and I swear we’ve talked to half the room,” Sutton spoke conspiratorially, as she handed Charlotte a glass of water.
She couldn’t not grin back, feeling the same rush. “I know.”
As Sutton’s eyes roamed the room, hers were glued to Sutton, enjoying the flush of excitement on her cheeks.
“You’re really good at this,” the words slipped out softly, and she wanted to curse herself because she could hear the affection in them, but it was so true.
“What?” Sutton gestured for her to explain.
“This,” Charlotte gestured around the room. “You know just what to say to who, you remember all of the details. My grandmother is having a party in a couple of weeks. Every year, on the anniversary of her inauguration, she throws this big thing – lots of people from Virginia and D.C., and from all over, really. A lot of who’s who – that my grandmother wants to talk to or get support from, of course,” she added with a wink. “You should come.”
Sutton’s eyes widened and that surprised smile lit up her face. “Really? To your grandmother’s party?”
God, she could only imagine the look she was going to get from Caleb, but it was too late to take it back. “Yes, you should.”
“I’d love that.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but before anything came out, she noticed the commotion behind Sutton’s back. And by commotion, she meant Regan, who was giving her a look she couldn’t quite place. But like most looks Regan directed toward her, it wasn’t extremely pleasant.
It was enough to make her draw back, realizing just exactly how close they were standing, that they were in public.
“Sutton, I haven’t seen you in forever.” Regan reached them, bumping her hip lightly against Sutton’s. She wore a black dress that draped nicely over her body, as she slung her arm over Sutton’s shoulder in an enviably casual way.
“I saw you this morning,” Sutton tossed back, nudging Regan in return.
Regan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but usually at this party, you’re with me and the other girls. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been grilled about what you’re doing?” She fixed Charlotte with a speculative eye, that gleam still making her uneasy. “Might I say, I do love the complementary outfits tonight.”
She didn’t have to look to know that Sutton was blushing, because she thought even she might if blushing was something she did. Because, fuck her, they were complementing one another . . . Her dark blue suit, Sutton in her light blue dress –
And they’d been together all evening, giving one another those easy touches, and Charlotte had to take a deep breath to calm her stomach. It didn’t mean anything, she told herself, to any outside observer they were just friends.
Which they were.
Sutton elbowed Regan in the ribs. “We are not . . . matching,” she muttered even though her eyes fixated on Charlotte’s suit.
Regan shrugged, tightening her arm around Sutton’s shoulder. “Sure you aren’t, babe. Now, hopefully I’m not pulling you away from anything too serious.” Charlotte could swear there was a sharp dig in there somewhere, even if she couldn’t pinpoint it. “But I would very much like to get our group picture and some dancing in before midnight strikes and you turn into a pumpkin.”
“Regan, I told you –” Sutton paused, giving Charlotte a speculative look
.
Sutton had thrown her whole night into helping Charlotte when this was a party she typically enjoyed with her friends and family. That, coupled with the fact that this was the complete opposite of managing her feelings, made her quickly shake her head.
“No, you should go enjoy the rest of the night. You’ve done more than enough for me,” her voice gentled unintentionally as she finished, making eye contact with Sutton and holding it. “Really. I don’t want to take up your whole night. You deserve to have some fun.”
“I was having fun,” she insisted, before biting her lip. “I guess, though, if you want to finish up alone, I could go . . .”
“Perfect. I’m sure Charlotte here is talented enough to finish making contacts all by herself,” Regan piped in with the falsely cheery voice she always used with her. The one that sort of sounded like a serial killer, but Charlotte was fairly certain Regan liked it that way.
“Regan –” Sutton started again and there was something loaded in the look they exchanged that Charlotte wasn’t privy to. It was galling how much she wanted to be privy.
That alone made her stomach clench uncomfortably. “You go have fun with your friends.”
“You heard the woman.” Regan nodded at her. “Come on, you’ve got a full dance card already. Me being the first on the list, of course.”
Sutton rolled her eyes, hesitating as she looked back to Charlotte. “I guess . . . okay. If you don’t . . . well. I’ll be around.”
“We’ll just be across the dance floor. If Stunning Charlotte wants to dance with you,” another unmistakably pointed look, “I’m sure you will make room.”
It was an irrational – and unfair and ridiculous – thought that crossed her mind as to who exactly was on Sutton’s dance card. She forced a smile onto her lips.
“Don’t forget, the Whitman’s,” Sutton mouthed over her shoulder, tilting her head to the other side of the room, where their next “targets” so-to-speak stood.