It was almost 12pm by the time they finished eating the food Logan prepared. Logan had insisted they eat on the rooftop where he had a private pool and an outdoor dining area, and Charlotte certainly enjoyed the cool breeze up there. The food was unexpectedly good too, made even better by the second bottle of wine they opened up. This time they were actually able to drink it instead of mop it from the floor.
Now that she had some food in her, the wine didn't make Charlotte dizzy, though it did loosen her tongue a bit.
"Thank you for dinner," Charlotte said. "But I think it's time we discuss what I came here for."
"What is there to discuss? I understand you enjoy my company and want to spend time with me. I do too. With you, that is," Logan said, smirking at Charlotte.
"Can you stop with the jokes for ten minutes?" Charlotte said, a little annoyed.
"I wasn't joking."
"Mr. Hamilton." Charlotte stood and pull
Charlotte had an inkling as to where Logan was getting to, but she wanted him to say it. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Let's be real. I'm not a member of your elite Atlantian society. As a relative newcomer, they don't hold me in such esteem as they would with you or any of your clique members. The police have a suspect who's providing them with a fairly fast and easy case, which will give them good publicity. I think we need to switch the direction we're taking here." "How so?" "We need to find who did it. I want the bastard who did this to María to pay. But the first person we need to look into is the person who ordered it done. And that happens to be Julie. In a way, I guess, I'm still to blame for this. If María hadn't been working for me, she wouldn't have been used as a pawn in Julie's horrid, twisted game." That had also been in Charlotte's mind. She hadn't mentioned it before because she had to insist on what they c
The news was going to break eventually, but Charlotte had hoped they'd leave her out of the news at least until she got to tell Floyd and her mother about it. And now the two of them must be calling her at her house, and she wasn't even there. She took deep breaths and grabbed a tiny sandwich from a tray a man was passing about. "Miss Astor?" someone said from behind her. It was Stuart, but she barely recognized him. He was dressed in an expensive tailored suit, and his formerly messy hair was combed back. "Stuart," she said. "You look good." "Thank you," he said. He even sounded more confident. "This is the team we've assembled to deal with the press, and there's another team investigating the victim's family. Mr. Hamilton told us you would be leading them." "Yes, of course," Charlotte said, a little taken aback. She technically had said that she'd use the firm's team, but she wouldn't argue. The more the merrier, and the faster t
When she got to the office, Janet greeted her with a smile, which could never mean something good. "The boss wants to see you," she said to Charlotte, loud enough so people passing by could definitely hear. "Thank you, Janet," Charlotte replied ever so politely. Instead of stopping by her office to leave her purse, she headed straight to Floyd's office. The secretary that had been gone on maternity leave for a while was back now. "Charlotte! How are you?" she said in a thick southern accent, her voice about an octave higher than normal. Lisa was her name, Charlotte remembered. She had dark spots under her eyes and her complexion looked like she could use a little exposure to the sun. "Lisa, you're back. Is Floyd in?" Charlotte said. Lisa had always been kind to her but seemed a little afraid of her as well. "He said I should let you go in the second I knew you're here," Lisa said, giving Charlotte a sad smile as
Charlotte called Detective Fontaine from her office, but he wasn't at the station, so she left a message asking for him to call her back. She really didn't have a lot to do until she met with Logan's team, so she decided to finally call her mother. She had been dreading talking to her since the incident at Mary's party, but she knew she'd have to talk to her eventually, so she might as well get it over with. Her mother picked up after the first ring. "Sarah Astor speaking." "Mother." "CHARLOTTE MARIE ASTOR!" Using Charlotte's middle name never meant good news. "How are you doing?" Charlotte said in a nonchalant tone. She wasn't going to acknowledge that anything was wrong. "How do you think I'm doing?! We were all worried sick about you. First, you bring this Hamilton man to the party out of the blue, where he causes a scandal, and now you're working on his murder case? MURDER!? You brought a murderer to our
Charlotte met with Stuart and the press team, who seemed a bit lost as to how to get the right news people to talk to them. It was clear that the media was intent on portraying Logan as the bad guy, so they weren't really receptive to hearing the other side to him, yet. First, the press had to exploit this narrative, and then, they'd possibly listen to the other side. Charlotte knew their strategy well. She had minored in journalism, and she had gotten a glimpse at how the news world worked. Besides, she had dealt with them before, and she had a few tricks up her sleeve. She gave the team some tips and dropped several names of people who would talk to them. She also recommended they focus on newspapers instead of television. Reporters from the written press were more likely to be unbiased, and because they didn't require such immediacy as television did, they were more inclined to take more long-term risks, like publishing an article that didn't align with the current
Charlotte had to admit it wasn't too bad inside the helicopter once they were in the air, but the first few minutes of them rising in place and the swooshing away were some of the most terrifying moments of her life. They were all wearing helmets, but she could swear Logan was laughing at her all the while. In about an hour and a half, Stone Mountain came into view. A beautiful lake surrounded the peak, and then she saw the house where they were heading to. It was an enormous mansion, sprawled against one side of the mountain. Before she realized it, the helicopter was losing altitude and she felt like she was losing her sanity. It took all the strength she had not to scream as the helicopter descended and gracefully stopped on the roof that served as a helipad. When they got out, Logan helped her out, pretty much picking her up by the waist and setting her down on the floor. She felt a little wobbly and almost tripped, but he caught her just in time. The helic
Lunch outside meant lunch right next to the cliffs overlooking the lake, and while the view was beautiful, Charlotte purposely stayed away from the edge. She wasn't normally afraid of heights, but she still wasn't sure she was entirely surefooted after the helicopter ride. The sun was high on the horizon, and she and Logan sat beneath a ceiling of vines that covered a wooden deck. "Who was it?" Logan said all of a sudden, once he was done with his food. Charlotte was still at it, enjoying the salmon and yellow rice. The food was superb. "Who was what?" she said. "Who asked you to step away from the case?" She wasn't sure how much of the truth she wanted Logan to know, but after she had asked him for the truth, in turn, she also felt like she had to act accordingly. "My mother, to begin with," she said. "Floyd. And Edward." "Edward?" Logan's curiosity seemed to have been piqued at the mention of h
Charlotte's heart sank. She remembered when just the thought of seeing Edward sent her into a flurry of excitement. Now, he was probably here to admonish her yet again. Seeing him only made her remember the irreparable chasm that had opened between them. She opened the door halfway and peeked outside. It wasn't polite to leave him out in the hallway, but she didn't want to let him in if he was just going to try to convince her to drop Logan's case. When she saw him, she gasped. "Are you OK?" she said. His eyes were bloodshot and he was holding on to the doorframe for stability. He was either drunk or very, very tired. The former seemed more likely, though. His disheveled hair and loose shirt and tie reminded Charlotte of the time they went to a wedding together when they were right out of school. Back then, she had found it amusing and attractive to see him look so unpolished when he was someone who cared so much about his appearance and formalities. No