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“Yes, I look forward to our meeting in the New Year. Right. Happy holidays to you as well,” Charlotte said diplomatically as she gave a smile to Deena Rogers. Then she ducked into her car before the woman could get another word in.

She didn’t fully relax, though, until Autumn slid into the other side of the car, with the door shut and locked behind her.

“Amazing secretary of education. Terribly, inconveniently chatty person,” Charlotte commented as the car pulled out of the long driveway and into traffic. Safety.

She’d attended a simple brunch on Christmas Eve—for all officials still in the D.C. area for the holidays—hosted by Rogers at her luxurious home. Charlotte had debated attending but ultimately didn’t have any other plans and felt it was always beneficial to network when she was able to.

Especially at a function like today’s, where all working done was just that— networking . Eating food, making connections, with no “official” business on the table.

But she’d planned on leaving the event by three this afternoon. It was approaching five now, making the idea that this was a brunch a laughable one.

Autumn gave a quiet snort. “I would never voice it aloud, but given that you did…” She nodded as she crossed her legs and pulled out her work tablet. “But I believe that completes all of your obligations for the calendar year.”

Charlotte was well aware of this, but she appreciated the confirmation nonetheless. “Thank you. And thank you also for attending. I hope you didn’t feel you were obligated.”

She meant that.

Maya had left the city to go be with her family for the holidays two days ago and would have time off until January 2. Charlotte had offered Autumn the same ten-day vacation, but Autumn had hesitated before dismissing the offer, saying, “You have the Christmas Eve brunch.”

“I promise you, I’m capable of attending a meal alone,” Charlotte had dryly responded.

“I know!” Autumn coughed, looking as though she chastised herself inwardly as she did. “I mean, I know. Of course. But it’s a part of my job description to attend work functions with you, and I’d like to honor that.”

Charlotte wasn’t going to push or point out that while Autumn did attend events with her in official work capacity; usually she attended meetings, not work brunches where work was all unofficially being discussed. Autumn had a flawless memory and kept meticulous note of who said what, then followed up with them without Charlotte needing to remind her. If she wanted to attend the brunch with Charlotte, she wouldn’t argue.

“No, I didn’t feel obligated,” Autumn confirmed as she typed out something on her tablet.

“Well, now that I officially have time off for the next week, so do you.” Charlotte paused, frowning. “Have you heard from Maya? I meant to confirm she arrived safely back to…”

She knew it was somewhere in Pennsylvania, but they didn’t speak about their personal lives very much.

“Philadelphia,” Autumn quickly supplied before she cleared her throat and resolutely stared down at the tablet. “Yes. She made it back. She’s fine.”

Charlotte found herself grinning ever so slightly—just enough that she couldn’t hold it back—at Autumn’s answer.

Honestly, she found Autumn and Maya endearing. Perhaps their relationship wasn’t necessarily something she should encourage, not that she actively was; she had a strict no comment policy that she had been operating on regarding this development in her junior staff. Which was fine, given that Autumn and Maya never did anything remotely inappropriate in her presence.

As far as Charlotte had seen with her own eyes, they’d never even touched. They didn’t even sit next to each other when Maya joined them in the car.

The way they circled one another, though, the way they bantered, the way they one-upped one another while working together was, well, Charlotte might even be tempted to label it sweet .

Then again, she was fairly convinced she only felt that way because of her own love life.

Charlotte was self-reflective enough to be able to acknowledge that she might not feel this way if she wasn’t doing… whatever she was doing with Sutton. She didn’t think she would have any feelings or thoughts, positive or negative, regarding her assistant’s love lives otherwise.

As it was, she did have Sutton.

She wasn’t positive in what capacity she had Sutton, admittedly. She’d never been this person before. She thought they were… dating?

Then again, Charlotte had never truly dated.

The time they spent together felt like dating or what she imagined it would feel like. Would be like.

They had meals together, they laughed, they talked about life, they occasionally did other activities together, and they often ended their time together by having sex. That felt like dating to her.

It was also how Caleb had taken to referring to her time spent with Sutton. “Another date?” he’d ask, wiggling his eyebrows.

The thing was, Charlotte didn’t hate that.

If anything, she hated the idea that dating might be it .

“The Senate will convene January third. Will you be needing anything from me before then?” Autumn asked, bringing Charlotte back to the moment.

“No, that’s your time off. You should enjoy it,” Charlotte advised. “Next year will be a busy one.”

Autumn merely nodded, still looking down at the tablet, and Charlotte studied her.

She had spent more time with Autumn in the last couple of years than anyone else. Since Charlotte had hired her, Autumn had essentially become, in a very professionally complimentary way, her shadow.

That said, Charlotte knew very little about Autumn’s actual life.

She knew about Maya—the existence of her multiple siblings, parents, and many nieces and nephews; a little about her favorite television shows and movies; that she enjoyed crime novels; and that she had a cat. These were all bits and pieces Maya had casually offered about herself in conversation over the last few years.

Autumn was far more similar to Charlotte herself. Maybe even more reserved.

This had come to Charlotte’s attention because of, unsurprisingly, Sutton, who had asked questions about Autumn after Charlotte had arranged for Autumn to bring them the procured keys for the toy store.

It had only been after Charlotte admitted to knowing very little about her professional shadow and had seen the bafflement in Sutton’s eyes that she had questioned herself.

It wasn’t as if she was rude to or overly demanding of her assistants, and she knew that. She treated them well and made sure to allocate her funds competitively.

She also knew that Sutton would be personal with her assistants. Not unprofessionally, but there was no way Sutton would work with anyone and not be on friendly terms with them.

It had made Charlotte want to be better in that way Sutton had, where she never made Charlotte feel bad or like she was doing something wrong. She was just so Sutton —genuinely sweet and well-meaning and caring—that it made Charlotte ache to be on her level.

She cleared her throat. “And will you be heading home?” she asked, racking her brain for the right answer. “To… Rhode Island?”

It was a relief to recall that information.

Autumn turned to look at Charlotte then, eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. “Um. No. I’ll be staying here. In D.C.”

Charlotte nodded, not loving the feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to be the kind of boss whose employee was shocked when they asked what they’d be doing over the holidays. “Right. Any plans?”

The crease between Autumn’s eyebrows deepened exponentially. “Not particularly.” A second beat by before she admitted, “Reading, mostly. Catching up on some shows. Just relaxing.”

Charlotte accepted that admission with another nod.

Autumn carefully studied Charlotte before slowly asking, “What about you? Do you have any plans for the holidays?”

Charlotte felt her stomach flip-flop at the question, thinking about what exactly she had planned, and a small smile crept onto her face. “I have a few ideas.”

Autumn’s own mouth slipped into the smallest of smiles as she turned to look out the car window. “It doesn’t seem we’re heading toward the office. Or to your home.”

Charlotte’s stomach fluttered once more at the observation. Autumn was correct. Typically, after they attended an event, they either went back to work or Charlotte would have Hamish drop them off, heading to whichever one of their homes was closest first. Today, that would have meant Charlotte’s.

“You would be correct. I have other Christmas Eve plans,” she informed her assistant.

Autumn frowned, looking back down at her now-dark tablet. “I don’t have anything on your schedule?”

“It’s personal,” she said as she grabbed the tote bag she’d placed in the car this morning.

Although she hadn’t wanted to be at “brunch” all afternoon, she wasn’t stupid; she knew Deena Rogers, and she knew there would be a good chance she’d be spending more time there than she’d have cared to.

When Sutton had told her last week about not having Lucy with her on Christmas Day for the first time, Charlotte had felt that sadness prick deeply in her own chest. Sutton’s sorrow had resonated through her voice and in her eyes, even as she’d valiantly tried to sound as upbeat as possible, describing the activities she was planning for herself and Lucy on Christmas Eve morning.

Sutton had been awake last night, wrapping some gifts for Lucy, and had called Charlotte. “I’m sure you would never guess, but the RealJam Guitar is not the easiest shape for wrapping,” she’d said sardonically as soon as Charlotte had answered the phone.

Charlotte laughed as she sat up in bed. “I would never have guessed.”

Sutton took in another breath, clearly ready to say something before she’d paused and asked, “Sorry—were you busy? Or going to sleep? I didn’t even think about how late it is. I let Lucy stay up a bit and watch Christmas movies, and I just got her into bed a little while ago and cleaned up the house.”

Charlotte had spared a look at her phone; it was past eleven. She had been lying in bed, reading through a few reports, likely going to sleep shortly, but hearing Sutton’s voice for the first time all day had been the most perfect jolt before going to sleep. Electric and soothing, all at once.

“No, I wasn’t busy,” she confirmed, closing her laptop. “And I’m awake.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she’d affirmed. There was nothing she wanted more than to talk to Sutton in that moment.

In most moments, if she was being honest.

It didn’t matter that they’d seen each other the day before. Sutton had finished grading all of her finals, and Lucy had been out with Regan and Emma doing her “Christmas shopping,” where she picked out a gift for Sutton and her aunts treated her to hot chocolate and an annual trip to see Santa. Sutton had spent her free hours by showing up at Charlotte’s, tearing her clothing off, and touching her until Charlotte had begged for mercy.

It didn’t matter that she and Sutton had texted back and forth for a few hours earlier in the day.

It was never enough; she constantly craved more.

They talked until nearly one, when they’d both fallen asleep on the phone with barely enough energy to say good night.

The most memorable part of the call, for Charlotte, had been the period where Sutton had told her what she’d be doing the following day.

“Well, Lucy and I are going to get up early and get pedicures together. And then we’re going to bake cookies for her to bring to Layla’s for Santa. Then we’ll open gifts together. Layla is getting off of her shift at two and is going to be picking Luce up by three.” Sutton blew out a breath, the sadness in the sound alone palpable for Charlotte over the phone. “And then I’ll pick her up December 27.”

“Are you going to go to Regan and Emma’s Christmas Eve party?” Charlotte asked, detesting that tone in Sutton’s voice.

She felt it urgently, settling in her own chest. A feeling she’d never really experienced, this—this need to make something better. To do anything she could to improve this situation for Sutton.

“I don’t think so,” Sutton eventually answered. “Maybe I should, just to get out of the house or try to take my mind off things. But I don’t really want to be around people when I know I’m not really going to be feeling the holiday spirit. I’m going to go over for Christmas dinner, but I think I’ll just spend tomorrow evening at home. Watch a few movies, have an early night. Maybe fall asleep in the living room with the tree all lit up.”

No. Charlotte found in that very moment that she couldn’t abide by that. The idea of Sutton sitting at home at any point during the holidays, feeling low and lonely, devastated her.

She’d spared a look at the gift she had neatly wrapped for Sutton, which was sitting on her bedside table. She’d wrapped it a few weeks ago, but she hadn’t yet made the decision of when to give it to her.

In all honesty, it made her a little nervous, this plan of hers. Showing up at Sutton’s on Christmas Eve, knowing that Sutton had already turned down the invitation to go to her best friends’ party in favor of being alone. A small worry that she would be unwelcome.

But even if that was the case, she would just give Sutton her gift and leave. No harm done.

Because, even more than that bit of nerves, there was this need to be there for Sutton. To be someone who showed up for her even when she didn’t ask. To be the person Sutton could depend on.

That she wanted to depend on.

As her car parked in front of Sutton’s home, Charlotte took a deep breath to settle herself. Her nerves and excitement were born of surprising Sutton on Christmas Eve. Born of the possibility of being with Sutton on a holiday that meant so much to her.

She hadn’t gotten that before.

No, when they’d done this before, she’d been scared. Terrified, really, of the feelings that had popped up right before Christmas. Terrified enough to pull away from Sutton, to have been grateful that she was going home to see her parents so that she could get a little bit of distance.

Stupid. That’s what she’d been.

And while Charlotte Thompson could accept being many things—not all of them positive either—she could not and would not accept being that level of stupid again.

With that in mind, she grabbed her tote and turned to Autumn. “I hope you have a very lovely holiday, Autumn.”

Autumn studied the outside of Sutton’s home before she turned to look at Charlotte. There was clearly a litany of thoughts running through her head, but she just gave Charlotte a smile, a genuinely warm one, not one of her typical work ones. “You, too, Senator.”

Charlotte aimed a look at her as she opened the door, and Autumn let out an exasperated breath as she corrected herself: “Charlotte.”

There it was. “Wonderful. Enjoy some time off.”

With that, she stepped out of the car and swung the door closed behind her.

The gift she had for Sutton was extremely light, but it felt significant in her bag. It was the only thing in there besides a couple of toiletries and a change of clothes.

She knocked on the door, butterflies flitting through her, and she was just ready to see Sutton. Even though it had barely been two days since the last time they’d seen each other, she craved it.

The door swung open, and Charlotte was already, automatically, smiling.

Until she found herself face to face not with Sutton at all, but with a woman she’d never met before. She looked familiar, though, and Charlotte placed her in a split second as they studied each other in a few seconds of silence.

Pretty face with delicate features; wavy, honey-blonde hair; sharp green eyes; curvy build—she was featured in one specific photo in Sutton’s living room. This was Sutton’s ex-wife.

The one who’d cheated on her.

The one who was currently staring at Charlotte with clear surprise. “Senator Thompson?”

Charlotte pursed her lips. “Yes. Hello.”

She— Layla— smiled then, brightly and objectively, and Charlotte could clock that she was attractive. But there was such a sour taste in the back of her mouth knowing how this woman had treated Sutton that Charlotte could hardly muster her own smile back.

She did , given years of training from mingling with the worst politicians the country had to offer. But even then, those smiles were always false niceties. This felt significantly more personal, and she was certain her smile was frosty with it.

Layla was still smiling, though, entirely unaware of the inner turmoil her presence caused Charlotte. Smiling excitedly, even as her eyebrows drew down in momentary confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Sutton,” she said, lifting her eyebrows expectantly.

A dawning took place as Layla nodded. “Right, right. She’s been working on your book. Which I’m very excited about reading, for the record.”

“Amazing,” she said back, frosty smile still in place.

Layla paused for a second at her tone before she visibly shook her head and then stepped back, opening Sutton’s front door wider. “Come on in; Sutton’s with Lucy in her room, but they should be down any minute.”

Charlotte walked through the door and felt that god-awful feeling that curled through the pit of her stomach only intensify at Layla inviting her in. She could not believe someone who had disrespected Sutton as a partner, a wife, and a person would have the audacity to welcome her into Sutton’s own home.

It was insane , this feeling, and she attempted to work through it as she shed her jacket and hung it up. There was jealousy, in the slightest bit, at the baseline that this woman had been married to Sutton, regardless of how their relationship had ended.

Anger, pity, and sheer distaste at the way in which this woman had treated Sutton flooded in, mixing with the jealousy until it was a quagmire of nastiness.

And amid all of it, a part of her had to be grateful that Layla had ultimately ended their marriage in any way because it meant Charlotte could be here. Could have whatever she was having with Sutton now.

It was confusing and ugly and not at all what she’d anticipated when planning this Christmas Eve surprise.

As she turned to continue down the entry hall toward the living room, she caught Layla studying her. “I’ve been a fan of yours since you first ran for Congress,” she said, shaking her head in wonder. “Well, I was a big fan of your grandmother’s, of course.”

“Of course,” Charlotte echoed. In fairness, she had yet to come across a non-conservative woman who wasn’t a fan of the first female president of their country. It wasn’t a very high bar to jump over to gain that bit of her respect.

“I was nearing the end of my surgical residency at New York Presbyterian, and I’d follow along with your debates during downtime on my shifts. It was so gratifying—amazing, really—when you came out a couple of years ago. To know that one of the most promising leaders in the country is also a lesbian? That’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” she accepted, studying Layla.

If this were a different circumstance, she could truly appreciate that comment. In one way, a small way, she did. From an accomplished surgeon who was also a lesbian, Charlotte appreciated it.

But nothing deterred her from the other bigger picture at hand.

“And now here you are.” She gestured at Charlotte as they came to stand at the end of the hallway, shaking her head in amazement.

“Yes, here I am,” she once again echoed. She wasn’t quite sure she had anything positive to say to Layla, and she was fairly certain Sutton wouldn’t appreciate any of the negative comments she had.

But she wanted this with Sutton, she reasoned with herself. She wanted to know where this could go. She wanted, she thought with alarming clarity, everything Sutton would give her. Anything they could have in a future together, she wanted.

And a future with Sutton would have to include Layla.

Maybe even more alarming in this moment was that no matter the situation—no matter how new or uncomfortable or strange—she didn’t care. If it involved Sutton, involved them being together, she wanted it.

It wasn’t a shock to her, but it was something she hadn’t thought she would be actively reckoning with while standing in Sutton’s home, a foot away from her ex-wife.

She cleared her throat, recognizing that she needed to make the effort. “What will you and Lucy be doing for Christmas this year?”

Layla glanced down the hall to where Lucy’s bedroom was, her smile dimming just a bit. “Um, tonight we’ll be going to see my parents. Tomorrow, my wife’s family is coming over; we’re hosting. There will be a lot of kids—Arianne has seven nieces and nephews, all around Lucy’s age—so I think she’ll have a good time.”

“I’m sure she’ll have fun.”

“I’m hoping so,” Layla murmured with a nod.

She wondered where Lucy and Sutton were, but she felt she couldn’t ask. She wondered if Sutton had known that the timing of plans had changed or if it had been a last-minute change on Layla’s part. She didn’t forget a word Sutton said, and she knew that Sutton had informed her that Layla was supposed to have been here over two hours ago to pick Lucy up. She didn’t speak on that either.

She didn’t really have to speak on anything, as Layla looked back at her curiously. “It’s Christmas Eve,” she said.

Charlotte lifted her eyebrows in question when she realized that was all Layla was going to say and couldn’t help but retort, “And it’s the seventh day of Hannukah.”

Layla didn’t remark on that at all. Instead, she dropped her gaze down to the tote bag that Charlotte had rested on the floor before looking back up at Charlotte with suspicion in her green eyes.

The look alone raised Charlotte’s defenses and told her that Layla had had no idea about Charlotte and Sutton’s personal relationship. Until now, anyway.

On one hand, Sutton’s romantic life wasn’t really something she needed to discuss with Layla. Charlotte knew that Sutton didn’t really consider her ex a friend or a confidante, so it didn’t have to mean anything.

On the other hand…

Charlotte was blessedly saved from having to think too much more about it as Layla’s voice became unquestionably sharp. “Are you and Sutton… working tonight?”

Charlotte arched an eyebrow back, not appreciating her tone. As far as Charlotte could see, it wasn’t Layla’s business what they were doing, especially given that Layla and Lucy were supposed to have left hours ago. “No.”

She wouldn’t lie to this woman; she had done nothing wrong and had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. But she also would respect Sutton and not explicitly expound on their relationship to her ex.

Layla’s look turned even more dubious. “Huh.” She crossed her arms, studying Charlotte closely. “Now that I think about it, were you here on Thanksgiving? Lucy said she played chess with Charlotte , but honestly, I didn’t connect the dots.”

“I was.” She couldn’t help the thrill of the simple admittance. Yes , she had been here. Yes, she played chess with Lucy.

Yes, she had truly rekindled the sexual aspect of her relationship with Sutton that very night, in this very home.

“I hadn’t realized you were so close,” Layla muttered, her face looking nearly as sour now as Charlotte felt hers must be.

Charlotte found herself squaring off with Layla, here in Sutton’s foyer.

Layla studied her through narrowed eyes. “Sutton obviously told me months ago about writing your biography, but she never told me exactly how you ended up finding her to be your author. As far as I knew, she hadn’t been looking for new writing opportunities at the time.”

As far as Charlotte knew—via Sutton—Layla had never read Sutton’s writing, anyway. As her partner and spouse, she would verbally support Sutton or listen to Sutton talk about what she was working on, so she was not entirely negligent. But Charlotte craved it. She loved when Sutton sent her the pieces of writing she was working on, and not at all because they were part of her biography.

It had been something she’d always loved about Sutton. Getting to explore those parts of her mind, the thoughts and expressions she was able to emote in words. Sutton had always downplayed her talent, and she did it even now.

Only a week ago, as they’d been lying in Charlotte’s bed after a particularly intense round of fucking, after Sutton had made her come so hard she’d screamed , she’d asked about what Sutton would write after she finished Charlotte’s book. The work on Charlotte’s book would be coming to an end soon; they had only a few weeks left before they would no longer have to meet, and then Sutton would finish up the writing on her own. It was all going far too fast for Charlotte’s liking.

Sutton had let out a quiet, cute laugh, completely at odds from the woman who had fucked Charlotte’s brains out only moments before. Then she’d said, “Uh, I probably won’t be writing anything. ‘Publish or perish’ is certainly real, but I think your biography is the last big project I’ll work on for a while.”

Charlotte let that settle in for a few seconds before she’d propped herself up on an elbow to be able to properly look at Sutton, still resting her other hand on Sutton’s chest. God, she loved the connection. “If that’s what you want to do, then okay. But, Sutton, you are such a talented writer. I can’t help but think about how you had so many ideas and thoughts about ideas to write, even years ago.”

They didn’t often mention the past. They definitely didn’t mention things like Sutton telling Charlotte about her writing ideas and passions during private moments, moments that left Charlotte utterly riveted.

She felt Sutton’s heart beat a little faster under her hand as Sutton had stared at her with big, blue eyes, cheeks flushing. “I—that’s—I mean.” She cleared her throat before confessing, “I have been working on a book. I haven’t made any moves to even attempt to publish it,” she rushed to say. “It was just this idea I got last year. And I wrote a bit before shelving it, and it’s—it’s just a romance. Nothing big.”

“I bet it’s incredible.” Charlotte had never meant anything more. Sutton was incredible.

“I don’t—” Sutton said, clearly starting to downplay herself, and Charlotte couldn’t abide it.

She’d tapped her fingers against Sutton’s chest. “Sutton, when I read my own life in your words, I… I don’t know how you do it. Because you are writing all of the anecdotes and pieces that I have literally lived through, yet I can see them all through a different lens. It’s—” She let out a disbelieving chuckle. “I feel like I’m a protagonist of some sort. But it’s all because of the words you wrote.”

Sutton had pulled Charlotte down, kissing her intently and passionately, then.

Charlotte blinked herself out of these thoughts as she circled back to Layla’s suspicious gaze. “She wasn’t looking. I sought her out.”

Layla hummed in acknowledgement before clearly attempting to ferret out more information. “And did that happen through some connection at Georgetown?”

She didn’t know what it was.

Maybe it was the way Layla folded her arms and stared at her, all traces of excitement to meet Senator Thompson gone, replaced with something far less enthusiastic in the face of Charlotte Thompson, who was dating Sutton .

Maybe it was in the way Layla settled in with her back against the wall, looking so at home in a home she’d never lived in with Sutton. Her stance was decidedly territorial. As if she hadn’t been the one to treat Sutton terribly as she’d ended their relationship.

Maybe it was because she knew that in the time since Layla had left Sutton and pursued her own relationship, Sutton hadn’t really dated. Nothing close to as serious as they were, Charlotte knew, even though they hadn’t labelled what they were to one another. Maybe it was because of when Sutton had let out a dejected sigh, weeks ago, and expressed that she hated the times she had to spend with Layla and Arianne as a couple because of the way it made her feel. Like the time they’d talked about it months ago, when Sutton had said, so dejectedly, that she had just been a footnote to them.

Maybe it was because of that feeling that bubbled inside of her at Layla, at the attractive, successful surgeon who had cheated on and left Sutton, making her feel so much less than.

Maybe it was because Charlotte might not have known Layla as a person, but in hearing descriptions of her and in this meeting with her, she felt she knew enough about her to finally read what was happening. Charlotte had made a career out of spending time with ambitious people who climbed ladders, making choices and then looking back at them. Maybe it was because Charlotte herself had been in those shoes with Sutton at one point. But it dawned on her in this moment that Layla, despite having left Sutton and remarried soon after to a woman who, according to Sutton, was a good match for her, seemed decidedly unhappy and jealous at the prospect of Charlotte wanting to be with her ex-wife.

It was likely all of this rolled up, bundling together, that pushed her to say, “Actually, no. I knew Sutton years ago. When she was in grad school. I knew even then that she was very talented, and when I had such an important book to be written, she was the only person I could think of to do it justice.”