23. Charlotte
— ? —
Charlotte
I walked into The Cove lobby at eight in the morning with my shoulders back and my key card in my hand.
The girl at the front desk saw me first. Her eyes went wide and she looked away fast, then looked back like she couldn’t help herself.
I walked to my desk and set down my bag.
Randy appeared at my elbow within thirty seconds, coffee in hand, face cycling through about six different emotions.
“Okay, I’m either hallucinating from lack of sleep or you’re actually standing at your desk right now like the last week didn’t happen,” he said. “Please tell me I’m not hallucinating because I only had two hours of sleep and I genuinely cannot tell anymore.”
“You’re not hallucinating.” I logged into the system and watched my schedule populate. Full shift. Same hours. “I’m back.”
“You’re back. She says she’s back. Like it’s nothing.
Like she didn’t get publicly fired and dragged through Posy Wetherell’s column and become the most talked-about person in Newport for an entire week.
” Randy set his coffee down and grabbed my arm.
“How are you back? What happened? Who did you have to kill?”
“Nobody died. Madison Ellsworth came to see me. She said the firing was a mistake and gave me my job back.”
“Madison Ellsworth. The Madison Ellsworth. The woman who owns this building and half of Newport and has probably never set foot in a normal person’s house in her entire life.”
“She seemed pretty comfortable in my grandmother’s kitchen, actually.”
“I need to sit down.” Randy didn’t sit down. He just stood there staring at me. “She came to your house. The owner of the hotel drove to wherever you’ve been hiding and personally handed you your job back. That’s insane. That’s movie-level insane. Things like that don’t happen to real people.”
“Apparently they happen to me.”
“Sean is going to lose his mind. He’s already losing his mind.
He’s been in his office all morning looking like he swallowed a wasp and I’ve been trying to figure out why and now I know.
” Randy laughed, loud and delighted. “Oh, this is the best day of my entire year. Charlotte Waltham walks back into the building with her head held high and Sean has to sit there and take it because the owner overruled him.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“I could kiss you right now. I won’t, because there’s already one photograph of you kissing someone at work and we don’t need another scandal, but I want you to know the impulse is there.”
“Noted.” I handed him a stack of folders. “These need to go to housekeeping.”
“You’re giving me tasks? Right now? In this moment of triumph?”
“I’m working. You should try it.”
“Impossible woman.” Randy took the folders with a grin. “We’re getting drinks after this shift and you’re telling me everything. And I mean everything, Charlotte. Including whatever’s happening with the man from the photograph who I know for a fact is still staying in this hotel.”
“We’ll see.”
“That’s not a no.” He walked away looking happier than I’d seen him in weeks, and I turned back to my computer and got to work.
Randy was still hovering near my desk when the clock hit noon, talking about some drama with a guest in Room 12 who had demanded a refund because the view wasn’t ocean enough.
“I’m taking my lunch,” I said, reaching for my bag.
“Now? I was just getting to the good part.”
I was already walking toward the elevator. “I have somewhere I need to be.”
“Somewhere?” Randy’s voice followed me across the lobby. “What somewhere? Where are you going? Charlotte, you can’t just drop cryptic hints and walk away, that’s not fair to me as a person who needs to know everything.”
I pressed the elevator button and didn’t turn around.
“Is it him?” Randy called. “Are you going to see him? Charlotte. Charlotte!”
The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside.
His floor was quiet when I stepped off. I walked down the hallway and knocked on his door before I could change my mind.
He opened it in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly damp like he had just gotten out of the shower. His face shifted when he saw me. Surprise first, then something softer. Something like hope.
I kissed him before he could get a word out.
His hands came up to my waist and he pulled me into the room, kicking the door shut behind us. I pressed him back against the wall and kissed him harder, my fingers tangling in his still-damp hair, my body flush against his.
When I finally pulled back we were both breathing hard.
“Madison gave me my job back,” I said.
“I know.”
“I know you know.” I kept my hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding under my palms. “I know what you did.”
He didn’t say anything. Just watched me with those dark eyes, waiting to see what I would do with it.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to her,” I said. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted you to. You just did it.”
“You told me to stay away. I was trying to respect that while still fixing what I broke.”
“So you went behind my back.”
“I went around you.” His hands were still on my waist, warm through the fabric of my dress. “Going behind your back would be pretending I didn’t do it. I wasn’t going to pretend. I just wasn’t going to make you feel like you owed me anything.”
“Madison told me anyway.”
“That was her choice.” He pulled me closer. “Are you angry?”
I thought about it. Searched for the familiar flare of resentment, the feeling of being managed, controlled, handled without my consent.
It wasn’t there.
“No,” I said. “I’m not angry.”
“What are you?”
“I don’t know.” I traced the collar of his shirt with my fingers. “Surprised, maybe. That you did something for me without making it about you. Without storming in and making a scene and needing everyone to know how much you were sacrificing.”
“I’ve been trying to learn,” he said. “How to show up without taking over. How to help without making it worse.”
“Madison said you looked desperate.”
“I was desperate.” He said it simply, without embarrassment. “You were hurting and I was the reason. I would have done a lot more than sit through an awkward lunch to fix that.”
I kissed him again because I didn’t know what to say. Because the words were stuck somewhere in my chest and the only language I had right now was this. His mouth on mine. His hands pulling me closer. The solid warmth of him against me.
“Thank you,” I said against his lips. “For what you did. For not making me feel like I had to thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. That’s why I am.”
We stayed against the door, his hands still on my waist, my fingers still tangled in his collar.
“Madison invited me to something,” I said. “The Regatta Gala. This weekend at the Moore house.”
“Spencer’s been stressing about that for weeks. It’s his turn hosting. Biggest party of the season, apparently. Everyone who matters in Newport packed into one house pretending they like each other.”
“She wants me to come as a guest.”
“Then you should go.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’d enjoy it. And you’d be the most beautiful woman in the room, which is always fun to watch.”
“I don’t have anything to wear. My closet is work uniforms and sweatpants. Not exactly gala material.”
“Let me take care of it.” His voice was warm, easy. “I’ll have something sent over. Something perfect. The kind of dress that makes people stop talking when you walk in.”
“You’re going to pick out a dress for me.”
“I’m going to pick out the dress for you.
Something that fits you the way you deserve to be fit.
” He was smiling as he said it, his hands sliding to my hips.
“I’ve been thinking about it, honestly. What you’d look like walking into a room like that.
What it would feel like to have you on my arm in front of all those people. ”
“You’ve been thinking about what I’d wear to a party you didn’t even know I was invited to?”
“I’ve been thinking about you in a lot of different contexts.” He leaned closer, his mouth brushing my ear. “And if I’m being honest, I’ve been thinking even more about taking that dress off you at the end of the night.”
I smacked his chest and pushed him back. “I need to get back to work.”
He laughed, catching my hand before I could pull it away. “Was it something I said?”
“You know exactly what you said.” I tried to look stern but I could feel myself smiling. “Send the dress. I’m not promising anything about what happens after the party.”
“I’m not asking for promises.” He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m just telling you what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the week.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You like it.”
I pulled my hand free and opened the door. “I have to go. Randy’s probably called search and rescue by now.”
“Charlotte.” His voice stopped me in the doorway. “I meant what I said. About the dress, about the gala, about all of it. I can’t wait to see you there.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s the problem.”
I walked back to the elevator with his laugh following me down the hallway.
***
I was still adjusting the straps when I heard his car pull into my grandmother’s driveway.
The maroon silk fell just right, floor-length and elegant, with a neckline that made me feel powerful and terrified in equal measure. I had tried it on four times since it arrived, standing in front of my grandmother’s old mirror and trying to recognize the woman looking back at me.
His knock came before I was ready for it.
I opened the door and watched his face change. His eyes moved down my body and back up again, slow, like he was memorizing every detail.
“You look devastating,” he said. “I don’t think I’m going to survive the night.”
“You’ll survive. You’re tougher than you look.”
“I’m not sure that’s true right now.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I had a whole speech prepared about how beautiful you’d look in that dress and now I can’t remember any of it because my brain stopped working the second you opened the door.”
“That’s very flattering, but we’re going to be late.”
“I don’t care about being late.” He reached for my waist and pulled me against him. “I care about looking at you for another five minutes before I have to share you with a room full of people who don’t deserve to see you like this.”
I kissed him because he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, and that was a mistake, because once I started I couldn’t stop.
His hands slid up my back and into my hair. My fingers tangled in his jacket, pulling him closer.
He pressed me against the hallway wall and kissed me deeper, his mouth desperate, and I felt the whole evening threatening to disappear before it even started.
“Sutton.” I pulled back just far enough to speak. “We have to go.”
“We really don’t.” He kissed my jaw, my neck, the spot behind my ear that made my knees go weak. “We could stay here. Skip the party. I could spend the rest of the night taking this dress off you instead of watching other people admire you in it.”
“You spent a lot of money on this dress for me to not wear it in public.”
“I’ll buy you another one.” His mouth found mine again. “I’ll buy you ten. We can skip every party for the rest of the year.”
I laughed against his lips and pushed him back with both hands on his chest. “We’re going. Madison invited me personally and I’m not standing her up because you can’t control yourself.”
“I can control myself.”
“You absolutely cannot.”
“I can.” He straightened his jacket and tried to look composed, but his hair was wrecked, his mouth swollen and he looked like a man who had just been thoroughly kissed. “See? Controlled.”
“You look like you lost a fight with a tornado.”
“A very beautiful tornado.” He offered me his arm. “Fine. Let’s go to this party. But I want it on the record that I’m only agreeing because you asked nicely.”
“I didn’t ask nicely. I shoved you away from me.”
“Same thing.”
I grabbed my clutch and pulled him toward the door before he could start kissing me again.
The Moore house on Ocean Drive was lit up like something out of a painting.
White lights wrapped around every column and balcony, spilling down toward the water where the boats were anchored for the regatta.
The lawn was already crowded with people in evening wear, champagne glasses catching the light, laughter rising and falling on the warm night air.
This was Newport at its most polished. Its most beautiful.
We walked through the front entrance together, his hand warm on the small of my back, and I felt the room shift when we stepped inside.
The whispers started almost immediately.
I couldn’t hear the words, but I could feel them. Heads turning. Conversations pausing. Eyes following us across the foyer. The woman from the photograph. The one Posy wrote about. Walking into the Regatta Gala on the arm of the man who had caused all the trouble in the first place.
“They’re staring,” I said quietly.
“Let them stare.” Sutton’s hand pressed firmer against my back. “You look incredible and they’re all jealous. That’s the only thing worth knowing about any of them.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one they wrote a column about.”
“No, I’m just the man who was kissing you in it.” He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear. “And I’d do it again right now if you’d let me, just to give them something new to talk about.”
“Behave yourself.”
“Never.”
We moved deeper into the ballroom, and the whispers followed us like a tide.