Those Who Wait Read online

  would like?

  Sutton, 10:17PM

  She thinks I need to get out more, I guess. And

  she thinks that I should, um, go out and hook

  up with someone.

  Charlotte, 10:20PM

  And that’s not what you want?

  Sutton, 10:21PM

  I – well, no. Not that I don’t want to ever meet

  someone, it’s just . . . I’m not wanting to go out

  and find a hook up just for the sake of hooking

  up. You know?

  Charlotte, 10:23PM

  Unfortunately, that is where you and I differ.

  Which is a shame, I might add.

  Sutton’s eyes widened as she triple-read that. Did Charlotte mean what Sutton thought she meant? She had to. After all, she realized with a pleasant swoop in her stomach, Charlotte had seen her profile and decided to write back.

  For a moment, she thought about what that might mean. Entertained the idea that maybe this gorgeous woman had seriously been interested in hooking up with her – and to say it was a major rush was an understatement.

  Then the thoughts dissipated, because what that also meant was that Charlotte was someone who – as Sutton was sure many women on this app were – only wanted a hook up. Which . . . Sutton really didn’t think she could do, no matter how ridiculously hot the woman’s picture was.

  After a few moments of wondering whether or not she should just leave their interaction to end right then and there, because – well, she’d flat out said she didn’t want a hook up, and Charlotte clearly did, so she couldn’t imagine Charlotte wanting to keep wasting her time.

  But . . .

  Biting her lip, she was very grateful Regan wasn’t here to witness this.

  Sutton, 10:25PM

  Do you? Do this very often, that is.

  Charlotte, 10:28PM

  Are you insinuating something?

  Oh, God. This was why Sutton could never go out and meet a woman in real life; she couldn’t even talk to one online without putting her foot in her mouth.

  Sutton, 10:29PM

  No! No, no. I was asking because I was just,

  well, curious about how this usually happens?

  Sutton, 10:30PM

  I mean, you seem . . . like you know what to do,

  in situations like this. Unlike me, clearly.

  Sutton, 10:30PM

  God, that was probably a very silly thing to

  ask. You can just ignore me.

  Charlotte, 10:32PM

  Oh, sweetheart. I don’t typically make it a point

  to reveal the inner-workings of my interactions on

  here, you know. A true lady shouldn’t reveal

  her secrets.

  Charlotte, 10:33PM

  However, I could make an exception for a pretty

  woman in need. I only need to know one thing . . .

  Sutton’s heart beat just a bit faster at that, as she flushed and bit her lip. A pretty woman in need. She knew she’d been correct in wondering if Charlotte had done this before; she definitely knew what to say to make Sutton lap up every word.

  Sutton, 10:34PM

  Which is?

  Charlotte, 10:40PM

  Just to be completely clear, there is no chance

  of you being interested in – as your first message

  said – a hook up? Because I absolutely will not

  abide showing my hand in that case.

  Sutton hesitated. She thought of being that kind of person, who could go out and hook up with a gorgeous stranger and have that be it. No feelings involved. She was so very nervous about her first everything with a woman that maybe having sex with a stranger and getting it over with would be easier.

  Then again, she’d already learned in life that easier was not always better.

  Sutton, 10:42PM

  I can confirm that I don’t think I will be prepared

  to hook up with anyone any time soon.

  Charlotte, 10:45PM

  Well, then, disappointed as I may be, I am now

  willing to answer what you’d like to know. Do

  you have specific questions in mind?

  Sutton, 10:46PM

  Do you only use this app for hooking up?

  She regretted it as soon as she sent it. Why would she think it was all right to ask that to this random woman?

  Charlotte, 10:48PM

  Yes. Though in the name of honesty, I am

  always upfront about my not-serious intentions.

  Sutton, 10:49PM

  Okay. But what happens then?

  Charlotte, 10:52PM

  I do hope you aren’t asking me to explain the

  proverbial birds and the bees, sweetheart. I was

  under the impression you wanted this to be PG . . .

  She rushed – by no means did she intend for this to become a makeshift first time foray into dirty messages. Well, first time for her. She had doubts about Charlotte.

  Sutton, 10:53PM

  No! No, I know how . . . that . . . works. I meant,

  like, how do you go about doing all of this? When

  a woman messages you, what happens then?

  Charlotte, 10:56PM

  Well, it’s all fairly straightforward, no pun

  intended. We chat a bit here and make plans to

  meet up. Typically at a bar or perhaps a club –

  always somewhere public. We spend a bit of time

  out to make sure we’re . . . compatible. And from

  there, I see if they’d like to go back to my place

  for the night.

  Charlotte, 10:57PM

  Not to boast, but they usually do.

  Sutton, 10:57PM

  Oh, I can imagine.

  Her cheeks burned when she realized what she’d written.

  Charlotte, 10:59PM

  That was smoother than I expected. Offense

  entirely unintended.

  Sutton, 11:00PM

  None taken, as it was actually inadvertently

  done.

  Charlotte, 11:03PM

  You’re an . . . interesting woman. Unfortunately,

  however, it’s getting late, and I have to get to

  bed. I have an early morning tomorrow.

  At least it wasn’t a complete disaster; Charlotte seemed to be amused by her if nothing else.

  She could do with getting to bed as well, she realized as she stifled a yawn. She had to grade the first assignments of the semester for her professor by Monday, plus her own paper to start working on, as well as going to see her sister.

  Sutton, 11:05PM

  I don’t think I’m quite as interesting as you

  are. But I should be going, too. Thank you, for

  this. You know, not mocking me like you

  undoubtedly could have.

  Charlotte, 11:08PM

  That’s not really my style. But it was more

  entertaining for me than I might have anticipated.

  Goodnight, Sutton.

  Sutton, 11:09PM

  Goodnight, Charlotte.

  Chapter 2

  “As everyone here already knows, we’re celebrating tonight that one of our very own will be announcing her campaign for the House of Representatives special election!” Dean Walker, mayor of New York City, proclaimed, holding up a glass of champagne, as he made eye contact with her from across the room.

  Charlotte shook her head slightly, even as a pleased grin tugged at her lips. She’d halfheartedly asked Dean to refrain from making a toast, but she couldn’t deny that she got a little thrill from it all.

  “Though we will be inevitably sad to see her go, I can think of no one else who should be better suited to the position. Charlotte, I speak for myself and on behalf of the entire staff, when I say that we support you and believe in you unequivocally. So, though it means you’ll be leaving us at the end of it all, here’s to a successful election!”

  He lifted his glas
s, cheerfully followed by the myriad of others who joined in with shouts and claps in her direction. She accepted them all with a nod and a smile, lifting her glass to them before taking a sip.

  The entire mayoral staff was there, joined by a few of their fellow civil servants on the city council for the celebration. It wasn’t often that they held a party in their actual office but Dean had deemed it a special occasion.

  He made his way toward her, lightly brushing off the cuffs of his suit. Despite the fact that it was after-hours, he detested being seen as less than pristine.

  She quirked an eyebrow toward him, a playful smile on her lips. “That was quite a touching speech.”

  “I believe the words you’re looking for are thank you.”

  She laid her hand that didn’t have a light hold on her champagne flute on his arm. “Thank you.”

  Despite her banter, she meant it. Dean had been her boss for several years now and in those years, he had become someone she could trust.

  Someone who managed to maintain her respect, even after she’d seen him come running out of her brother’s apartment in nothing but striped boxers after sighting a mouse. That alone was a feat to be proud of.

  Dean was a true friend, one of the only she’d made thus far in the game of politics.

  It was why she’d been somewhat reluctant and even nervous to tell him about her plans to campaign for the recently empty House of Reps seat. She’d told him only a few days ago, because she could not stand that feeling of guilty nerves in her stomach; it wasn’t something she was familiar with and she’d wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible.

  “What? Did you think I thought you’d stay in our corner of the world forever? You should know better,” he’d told her when she’d informed him that she thought he would have been a little more shocked at her wanting to leave.

  Charlotte did love the work she was doing now; Dean was one of the most level-headed, progressive, and change-effecting mayors in the history of the city. And as the Deputy Mayor for health and human services working for him in the last few years, Charlotte had been able to implement programs and develop actual systems to help people. To actually make change.

  Despite her love of her current position, however, it was only a footnote in the grand plan she had for her future. And Dean knew very well what her ambitions were.

  She’d been in politics since she was old enough to be employed. She’d graduated from Yale with dual pre-law and political science degrees. She’d then completed her law degree at Columbia – just in case – as she obtained full time employment at the governor’s office. From there, she’d then been appointed Deputy Mayor. Even before that, she’d had countless internships with various departments in Congress throughout college. And she’d been interested in politics – the rise and fall and the rush and the adrenaline – since she was a child.

  How could she not be, when her family was so deeply rooted in it all? She couldn’t have grown up with the first female President of the United States as her grandmother without being dramatically influenced.

  Charlotte planned to follow in her grandmother’s footsteps since she truly understood what it was that her grandmother did. She intended to be voted as the President of the country, and she intended for it to happen at a younger age than it had happened for her grandmother. And regardless how much she enjoyed her life right now, there was no doubt that running for a notable elected office had to be her next step.

  With a deep breath, she took another sip of champagne. She could feel a pleasant buzz from it, even as she nudged Dean with her shoulder to get his attention. “You’d better make an even better speech if I win the seat. I expect some tears to fall.”

  “If? Where is the confident Charlotte I know and tolerate?”

  “The Charlotte you know and love, brat.” She elbowed him, smiling despite herself. “And perhaps you should get your glasses, as I am right here. Confident in my abilities, yet realistic about the odds,” she corrected mildly.

  She was confident that she would put up a good fight for the suddenly vacant seat in the House of Representatives. Confident that she had a very real chance at winning the special election for it; she wouldn’t go forward with the time and energy it was going to take to run a campaign, otherwise.

  However, she also kept in mind that should she win this election, she would become one of the youngest people to ever do so, let alone the youngest woman. As it was still early, it was also unclear as to who she would be running against. Those were two variables that had the potential to either work in her favor or against her.

  The seat had opened up unexpectedly a few weeks ago, upon the untimely death of John Kelvin, who had only just been re-elected. Charlotte’s original plan, the one that she had outlined and kept close to her heart, had been to campaign for one of the open seats in either the next election or the one after that, even.

  Yet, despite the fact that she was young and that she wasn’t as prepared as she would have been for a campaign years from now, she couldn’t deny that this move felt like it would be the best thing for her. She knew without a doubt that she would be able to hold her own against anyone who underestimated her.

  “Well, in the chance that you do not win the seat, I’ll try not to celebrate too much,” Dean informed her as he reached down to the table next to them to pour himself a glass of wine.

  Slightly confused, and more than slightly offended, she turned to face him. “Celebrating my loss? What happened to those pretty words of support from only minutes ago?”

  He shot her a look of apology. “I do support you, of course. But when you leave, whether it be in a few months or in a few years, both myself and the local government will be losing a big asset.”

  She shook her head with a smirk. “You choose the most roundabout ways in order to tell me you’ll miss me.”

  She lightly squeezed his forearm. Dean rolled his eyes at her but brought his hand up to squeeze her hand in return.

  After a few moments, he tilted his head toward their coworkers, who were milling about. Some dancing, some just chatting. All seemed to be having a good time, though she supposed, of course they would be. Free food and drinks, supplied by their boss, who was letting loose at the office in a celebration that didn’t have to do with anything unfortunate happening to precede it.

  “Now, come and partake in the festivities. This party is in your honor, after all.” Dean handed her another flute of champagne, before stepping slightly away to gallantly offer her his arm.

  It was things like that, she knew, that had made rumors buzz about the two of them. Predominantly in her earlier years of working together, though there were still a few people who didn’t entirely believe they were only platonic.

  Charlotte knew that was one of the side-effects of keeping her sexuality a topic that she did not discuss at work. As a result, talk like that – about her love life and any male friendships she kept – would be speculated about the more she rose in the political ranks.

  However, she also knew that a bit of speculation and wonder, as long as there truly was nothing salacious being hidden, was an angle that would prove to be beneficial in her burgeoning career. And she certainly had no scandalous tales involving men of any kind to be hidden.

  With that in mind, she bit back a small sigh as she fixed a smile on and shook her head. “I have to grab something from my desk first. I’ll be out there and asking you for a dance soon, though.”

  “We’ll see if you can keep up.” Dean started to unbutton his cuffs and crisply start to roll them up as he gave her a nod.

  “Excuse you. Historically, only one of us ever needs assistance on the dance floor and it’s not me.”

  He walked away with a wink that made her chuckle under her breath, before Charlotte made her way to her desk. It was far enough away from the center of the office that the festivities were not in her immediate area, which she was thankful for.

  Brown eyes scanned for people as she took her phone out of
her purse. She unlocked the device and scrolled until she got to the app that had been on her mind for days now.

  SapphicSpark had served her very well in the past few years. She’d first made an account when she’d been fresh out of college and looking for a way to find women who wouldn’t know her on a personal level. Who didn’t know Charlotte Thompson, politician. Looking for women who wanted the same thing she did: a short, casual, discreet hookup before moving on.

  Charlotte knew that she already had a long road ahead of her if she was to accomplish her goals and that road had enough obstacles. She had no intention of adding the fact that she was a lesbian into the mix. At the very least, not for years to come. As far as she was concerned, it was unnecessary. Her sexuality had nothing to do with her ambitions.

  Especially given that she had no intention of entertaining a so-called “love life” in the near future, regardless of the gender she was interested in. She prided herself on being able to read people, and it didn’t take a genius to see that people could make foolish decisions when their hearts were involved. Charlotte intended to stay clear- and level-headed for her time in office, whether that office be a member of the House or the Senate or President, or even Deputy Mayor.

  She’d found many a pleasurable night because of this app, and if she was being entirely honest, she didn’t want to give it up. But it was in her own best interest. Now that she’d unofficially announced her intention to run for Congress, the ball was rolling. Within the next few weeks, she would officially begin her campaign, and her name would start to garner more public interest.

  Depending on who would be opposing her, Charlotte had to be prepared for them to dig up anything, even her profile on a gay dating app. Though she would miss the hookups, they were not worth jeopardizing her dreams.

  Last Friday, she had resolved to herself that she would run for the election and she’d decided then that she had to delete the profile. That was when she’d seen that she had a message from a woman whose profile she’d never come across before.

  The woman with the red hair spilling over her shoulder in long waves, with startlingly blue eyes lit up with a candid smile that revealed straight white teeth. It was a picture that was clearly snapped while the redhead had been in mid-laugh. Something genuine, where Charlotte could see the flush of laughter on pale cheeks, and she’d almost been able to hear laughter through her phone.