They walked the rest of the way across the porch, toward Layla, their shoulders brushing. As a pair. Charlotte squeezed Sutton’s hand in hers as they came to stand directly in front of Layla.
“Nice to see you again.” In lieu of offering her hand, she offered the bottle of wine she’d brought with her.
Her grandmother had taught her long ago that you never showed up empty-handed and unprepared to dinner, whether talking business, politics, or personal endeavors. Sometimes, her grandmother had told her,The personal endeavors will be the most laborious, and you’ll need to be the most prepared.
Though Charlotte was certain her grandmother’s personal endeavors were far, far different than her own situation, the advice remained the same.
Layla reached out to take the bottle of wine from her. “Nice to see you again as well.”
While they were both obviously lying, Charlotte believed her comment had sounded far more genuine.
“Come on in.” Layla stepped back, letting them both enter into the mudroom.
Charlotte started to unbutton her jacket, peering around out of curiosity as she did so. It really was only in this moment that she’d remembered Sutton saying, months ago, that Layla had stayed in the house they’d owned together after the divorce, and it was jarring to realize thatthishad been Sutton’s home.
With the woman who was watching the two of them with a very close, speculative look.
It gave Charlotte a bad taste in the back of her mouth. Then again, she was fairly certain Layla would always leave her feeling that way. The way she’d treated Sutton in their marriage was unforgivable, and Charlotte was pretty good at holding on to grudges, even if she was able to carry them with grace and a smile.
She watched Sutton out of the corner of her eye, wondering how she felt whenever she was here.
But Sutton didn’t outwardly give anything away—something that made Charlotte feel inexplicably, ridiculously proud—as she hung her own jacket up, then reached to take Charlotte’s, exchanging a small smile with her as she did so.
“Mama! I’ve beenwaiting!” Lucy’s excited voice called out moments before her running footsteps approached. She came to a halt as soon as she spotted Charlotte, her eyes going wide. Her smile grew, showing off the gap of her most recent lost tooth. “Charlotte! What are you doing here?”
Charlotte exchanged a brief look of confusion with Sutton—her presence at dinner had been confirmed for the last few days—before she shook it off, grinning easily down at Lucy. “I came to have dinner with you.”
“Yay! Are you coming over to Mama’s after, too?” she asked, positively vibrating with excitement. “Be-because, um, we—I have a new game Mom and Arianne bought me this weekend, and it’ssofun, and we can play it together?”
Before Charlotte could answer, Layla cut in. “Luce, before we make any plans for games, why doesn’t your mama help you with your poster for school?”
Sutton’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The poster that’sdue tomorrowisn’t done yet?” She asked the question quietly, but her displeasure was obvious.
Layla’s own answer was light, though clearly displeased as well. “She was very insistent to me and Arianne thatyouhad to help her finish becauseyou’rethe literature professor. We’re merely surgeons.”
“Yeah.” Lucy nodded sagely as she put her hands on her hips and looked up at her parents. “It’s the project about the books we read together, Mama. The ones where the girl goes into the imaginary world!” She wrinkled her nose. “Mom and Arianne don’t teach about books!”
Charlotte willed herself not to smile. Especially not as Sutton and Layla seemed to have a silent conversation for several seconds before Sutton called up a smile and looked down at Lucy. “Okay, honey, let’s get to it. You have to make sure all your work is done before we have dinner here, just like you do when you’re with me.”
Before Charlotte could move to follow her, Layla cleared her throat. “Charlotte, I thought that while they’re busy, I could show you around the house.”
Sutton paused in the doorway, turning back to Layla with an obviously suspicious look on her face. It was one that Charlotte very much understood as it was clear Layla had set all these dominos in motion to arrange a few minutes one on one with Charlotte this evening.
“I don’t think—” Sutton started, but Charlotte gently intervened.
“I’d love for you to show me around.” She met Sutton’s apprehensive expression with one of reassurance.
If Layla wanted to have this opportunity to size her up under the guise of having a dinner together and giving her a tour of her house, fine. She would soon learn, if she somehow didn’t already know, that Charlotte wasn’t easily intimidated.
She’d been to state dinners, fundraisers with international heads of state, galas with any and all kinds of wheelers and dealers. The conversation at these events ranged from strenuous foreign affairs debates to the banalities of golf, so having an evening with Layla Bilson, MD, was far from nerve-racking.
“Did you just come from work?” Layla asked, looking her over and taking in Charlotte’s well-fitted black suit as she led her through the first level of the house.
“Well, it is a Tuesday evening, so… yes. I’ve had a rousing afternoon debating access to health care.” She arched a considering eyebrow at Layla. “Something I’m sure you have a stake in.”
Charlotte had come to the conclusion that she was going to do her best to remain civil and friendly with Layla… to the best of her ability. Building this relationship with Sutton—something solid and lasting—was her goal, and whether she enjoyed it or not, that goal had to include Layla.
Topics like Lucy and shared political views seemed like the best, safest ones.
