Like she—they—were on the verge of something, something Charlotte might not even be able to name, but she could feel it.
But then she’d experienced the last five days.
Sutton hadn’t been her typical self since Christmas.
Most definitely not herself as of the last couple of months, ever since they’d formed this friendship that had turned into something more.
She wasconcerninglynot her typical self.
And Charlotte, alarmingly, couldn’t quite nail down what was different.
It wasn’t as though Sutton had gone radio silent on her, which would have been more than concerning.
At first, Charlotte hadn’t thought much of it. After she’d left Sutton’s, she’d gone home and finished packing her things before driving to New York. Sutton had been planning on spending the afternoon and evening with Regan and Emma. They’d exchanged some texts, which were fine.
The day after Christmas, Sutton had picked up Lucy from Layla’s and had then driven the two of them up to Boston to see her family, so they’d hardly talked.
Also fine; it had been a long and busy day.
Charlotte busied herself the day after that, settling in to do nothing but read Sutton’s manuscript; she both understood how sacred it was to Sutton to share it with her, and she wanted to dive into it anyway. She’d figured, as it was the first official day back with her family for the holidays, that Sutton would be very busy.
But when she’d called Sutton later that night to check in, to catch up, to talk about her book—which Charlotte truly had loved—Sutton had answered but kept things… short.
That had been when Charlotte truly had started to get this gnawing feeling in her stomach that hadn’t left her alone in the two days since.
Sutton had been perfectly friendly. She’d asked how Charlotte had been, what she’d been up to. She told Charlotte a little about her holiday with her family.
But she’d been—off. She hadn’t delved into anecdotes or settled into a real conversation. She hadn’t even wanted to dive into the literal notes Charlotte had taken from her book!
Something was very, very off.
Given that Charlotte had been in New York to meet with some constituents and have a belated holiday brunch with Caleb and Dean, and Sutton had been in Boston, though, there was no chance for Charlotte to be able toseeSutton and discern what in the world had happened.
Until tonight.
She’d been at brunch with Caleb and Dean yesterday. Both of them had been gloriously tan and relaxed from their holiday trip to Bali, which they’d just returned from the day before. Caleb had been teasing her about choosing to stay in the states and work, rather than join them, as she’d been invited to do.
She’d just started to tell them about what was worrying her regarding Sutton when her phone had pinged, alerting her to an email.
“That’syour problem, right there,” Caleb had alleged, waving his hand at her as she checked her work phone. “I’ll bet you anything. Your problems with Sutton are right there.”
Charlotte nailed him with a derisive look as she held her phone up before she’d checked it. “Oh? And how do you figure, wise one?”
Her brother sipped at his mimosa as he shook his head. “You have a very, very rare day off. You haven’t seen Dean and me in person in months. We’re having a lovely holiday brunch, and you’re checking your work emails!” He shot Dean a look before gesturing at Charlotte.
Dean had shaken his head. “I’m not going to get into this. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but I will say it again: I recuse myself from your sibling work conversations.”
“Because, and I will say it if I have to, your own husband is a workaholic,” Charlotte reminded Caleb.
“No oneis as bad of a workaholic as you are,” he shot back with a snort. “If you’re having a problem with Sutton, it’s that. I’ll bet youanything. It was what happened between you two before, hmm?”
Charlotte glared at him, even as she detested the feeling that started creeping into her stomach. “Yes. But only because I wasn’t willing to be in an open relationship before. It had nothing to do with my actualwork.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel badly.” Caleb’s tone gentled, his brown eyes boring into her own. “You’re doing something you love, that you’re passionate about. I just…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you’re right. Like I said, it’s been forever since we’ve caught up. Tell us what we’ve missed.”
Charlotte couldn’t help it, though. She’d glanced down at her phone—deliberately intending to not answer the email at brunch—and had been glad she hadn’t sipped her own mimosa when she saw that the sender wasKatherine Spencer, as that likely would have caused a spit take.
“What in the…” She’d heard her own bafflement, then brief concern, before she reasoned that if something happened to Sutton or Lucy, Katherine likely wouldn’t reach out to her at all.Thatcaused its own potential spiral she’d had to steel herself against.
