Page 43 of The Snowball Effect

Regan grinned, bright and victorious. The burst of positivity felt so good, she soaked it up for the first time all day.

For several moments, Charlotte silently regarded her with a critical stare. Finally, she shrugged. “Fine. I will keep this between you and me – but if Sutton asks me if anything is wrong with you, I will not lie to her.”

“I find these terms acceptable,” Regan readily agreed.

After all, she wouldn’t want her best friend to be dating someone that would lie to her.

“Furthermore, regarding your quandary with Emma…” Charlotte hummed under her breath. “I’ll tell you a valuable piece of information my grandmother told me very early in my career.”

Regan perked up, leaning in. “Advice straight from the horse’s mouth?!”

Charlotte shot her a dour look. “You’d do well not to refer to my grandmother as ahorse.”

Reganpfft’d. “You know what I meant.”

“Even so.” Charlotte affixed her with a stern look – one Regan was unintimidated by – before she continued, “In my chosen aspiration, I’ve put myself in the line of fire for public opinion in spades. And people willalwayshave an opinion.”

All right, Regan was following what she was saying. Charlotte had publicly come out only a few months ago while running for Congress, so… yeah. Even if Regan hadn’t read many of the comments about Charlotte on social media, she was aware that many people had something to say about her life choices.

“The trick to never letting that get to you is knowing that if someone doesn’t truly know you, ninety-nine percent of the time? Their opinion says far more aboutthemthan it does about you. Or, in the words of my grandmother: judgments made in ignorance are better left ignored.”

Slowly, Regan leaned back against the chair, letting the words take root in her mind.

It didn’t make her feel better about what Emma said; her feelings were still hurt.

But she had to admit, the perspectivedidhelp shift her mindset a little bit.

She met Charlotte’s gaze. “You know, I’m really glad you came in today.”

“I suppose I am, as well. It’s a good thing you make such a good cup of coffee,” Charlotte acknowledged, toasting Regan as she held her cup up. “Or else I likely would never have returned after my first stop here.”

“Oh, your first stop here when you stalked Jack Spencer?” Regan challenged, grinning with the words. It feltsogoodto finally not feel like she was in such a funk.

Charlotte’s eyebrows furrowed as she narrowed her eyes over the lid of her coffee cup. She didn’t hurry her sip along, though. Instead, she moved at her same, steady pace, leisurely lowering the cup as she cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t quite call it stalking.”

“Whatwouldyou call it, then? When you find out a man’s schedule and rush through the city to coincidentally run into him?”

“Wise business strategy,” Charlotte answered simply. “Also, you and Sutton share far too much.”

Regan gasped, placing a hand over her heart in offense. “That is simply not possible.” She waved her hand as if wiping away that assertion. “Anyway, I think you would have returned after that even if my coffee was shit.”

Charlotte stared back at her, pointedly arching an eyebrow at her. “You believe I would have returned to your coffee shop – twenty minutes out of the way of my typical commute – if your coffee was shit?” She echoed Regan’s words with a deliberate slowness, obviously designed to make Regan doubt her own sanity. “Why, exactly, is that?”

She tapped on the table, giving herself a little drumroll, before she answered, “Because! You wanted to get into the beautifully high-waisted pants of one glorious creature by the name of Sutton Spencer. Who frequents this very coffee shop. Because, along with having the best coffee in the city, her best friend works here.”

Regan pointed to herself with both thumbs triumphantly.

Charlotte chuckled, filled with both exasperation and amusement – Regan was familiar with the sound. “On that note, I think I’ve over-extended my break for the afternoon.”

As Charlotte stood, Regan followed suit. Before Charlotte could leave, she reached out to touch her wrist and stop her. “Thanks for this,” she said, seriously. “It really means a lot to me.”

A small grin pulled at Charlotte’s mouth as she tilted her head in acknowledgment. “What else is the girlfriend-of-your-best-friend for?”

“I’ve never been so glad that I helped you two get together – twice – than I am now.”

Regan returned home that night with a sense of comfort from Charlotte/Elizabeth’s sage wisdom.

She held on to it tightly and stumbled to a surprised stop when she found Emma sitting in the living room. “Weird seeing you sitting out here,” she couldn’t help but comment.

---