Neither of them acknowledged it.
That was worse.
“We control access, proximity, exposure,” Char continued, her tone sharpening as she built the structure out in real time. “We decide where he is, who he’s with, what gets seen.”
She paused then, just long enough for the next problem to surface.
Rawlings saw it first. “That looks bad,” he said.
Char’s mouth curved slightly. “Only if we let it.”
My stomach tightened.
“She can’t just follow him around like a damn puppy,” Rawlings continued. “That raises more questions than it answers.”
“We don’t hide it,” Char said, a twinkle sparking in her eyes. “We define it. She’s not watching him. She’swithhim.”
“No,” I retorted immediately, the word cutting through before anything else could form. “Absolutely not.”
“You don’t have to like it,” she replied.
“I’m not doing it.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Charlotte let the room settle into an uneasy silence before continuing, “She’s clean. No history here. No baggage. No existing narrative. It’s perfect.”
Bea sat very still.
Too still.
“I’m not sure that’s the right approach,” Bea finally sad carefully, her voice measured, even, but there was something underneath it. “We could redirect this in a more authentic way. Community involvement, outreach?—”
“No,” Char cut in immediately. “Too obvious.”
“It works,” Bea pressed. “People respond to?—”
“Northbend is not people,” Char snapped. “It’s a market. And they will smell the bullshit before he even steps foot in a Boys and Girls Club.”
Bea’s jaw tightened.
Just slightly.
She knew she was losing the argument.
I looked from Charlotte to Erza, and understood exactly what this was.
Not a conversation. A decision. Made without me.
Something colder settled into place under my ribs, sharper than the irritation that had been there before.
Fine.If they wanted a story, I would give them one.
My gaze shifted, landing on Bea fully this time. She held it, didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, still trying too hard to stay steady in a room that was already moving past her.
And now tied to me.
I let the silence stretch just long enough for it to matter before I spoke.
“So which is it?” I quipped, my voice low with a teasing brow raise. “My place or yours.”