“Is she your only child?”
Sutton nodded before she let out a soft sigh. “I would’ve had more, but—” She cut herself off, blinking as if keeping herself from saying too much.
Only nothing could be too much. Not for Charlotte. With every single word Sutton said, Charlotte found herself sitting more at attention.
“But?” she urged.
Sutton hesitated before she shook her head again. “It’s not important.”
“Of course it is, if it is to you.”
Sutton stared at her for a few moments, mouth slightly open, and Charlotte held those blue eyes with hers. In much too short a time, Sutton’s eyebrows furrowed, and she cleared her throat. “No, this is a business meeting.”
Charlotte had to bite the inside of her cheek. “Right.” She had agreed to it, after all. She gestured for Sutton to continue.
And continue she did. Sutton pulled out her iPad, a brand-new voice recorder, a notebook, and two pens. The page she flipped to in the notebook was already covered in her neat and tidy handwriting, and she tapped her long fingers against it.
“All right, I’ve done a bit of research in the last week around how to best write this manuscript. Obviously, we need to start with my getting your information. I figure that we can, at least for the first bit, do our info sessions, and then I can write a bit in my off days to see which style we’d prefer.”
Charlotte gamely nodded. “You’re the creative genius; I will defer to you.”
Truthfully, this biography had not been her idea, nor was it something she’d particularly wanted to do. In fact, she’d turned it down multiple times when she’d first been approached during her campaign.
She had no idea how to properly do this.
“You deferring to me… that’s a new twist for us,” Sutton murmured as she uncapped a pen. It seemed she didn’t realize what she’d said—that is, until her eyes widened as she cleared her throat and deliberately stared down at the notebook.
Charlotte leaned back in her chair, saying her thanks to their waiter for delivering the water, wine, and chef’s special that was always prearranged for her, even as she kept her eyes on Sutton. A slow smile tugged at her lips.
Oh, yes.
Sutton closed her eyes, shook her head slightly, and pursed her lips. “So”—she reopened her eyes—“I want to know: Would you rather go chronologically or by topic?”
“I think topical would suit best, for my memory purposes.”
Sutton nodded. “I thought so, too. I have a plethora of areas to cover…” She hesitated, her gaze landing on Charlotte. “Though I should ask how personal you want to get. I know that—” She paused, clearing her throat in an adorably awkward way. “You aren’t— Your personal life… It used to be… private.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but smirk. “And here I thought we didn’t know one another.”
Sutton’s eyes rolled, and Charlotte reveled in it for a moment before she relented, speaking softly, “My private life is still relatively private. But I suppose that’s why I chose you for this… I will need to be a bit more open.”
Sutton’s mouth ticked into the smallest of smiles before she nodded. Their eyes caught and locked… and then Sutton’s phone vibrated again.
Charlotte observed the small smile before Sutton turned her phone to show her. The adorable little girl with Sutton’s unmistakably bright blue eyes smiling through the screen… it was only the second time she had seen the young girl, but every time she did, it felt like a punch to the stomach.
Sutton had achild. A daughter. A very adorable one at that.
Then her eyes flicked to Regan, who was holding the phone, making a ridiculous smile as the two of them held up bowls of ice cream.
Charlotte arched her eyebrow. “How in the world did Regan end up here with you? Did she pack herself in your suitcase?”
Sutton laughed before she started to explain. “She might’ve. Honestly, moving here it was—it was a hard decision, but… well, it was right for me, Layla, and Lucy. But after…” She trailed off, her eyebrows drawing together, a look in her eyes that seemed so conflicted and pained, it made Charlotte ache. It was gone a second later. “After my divorce, I was really struggling here by myself, and I couldn’t move across states with Lucy, so Regan and Emma became my saviors.”
“Regan and…Emma?” Charlotte drew out, in disbelief. She hadn’t met Emma much thirteen years ago, but she remembered faces well enough to have a clear picture, and she knew that they hadn’t gotten along. “I must be thinking of a different Emma.”
Sutton chortled. “You’re not. Emma Bordeaux.”
Charlotte leaned back in her chair and stared. “I would have never seen it coming.”
