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
Charlotte showered for about an hour as if the water could wash the stain of what she had just done. Or allowed Edward to do to her.What happened was very uncharacteristic for both of them. Edward always thought things out, analyzing the hows and whys of everything he did. And Charlotte... well, she had always been more impulsive, but not with men. She had had a few flings here and there during college, but nothing serious. She couldn't allow herself to go out with anyone when her heart had always belonged to someone else.And yet...Tonight he had reduced her to a lover, someone he could visit while drunk, and face no consequences for his actions. In her heart, she wanted to believe Edward hadn't planned for the evening to go that way, and he hadn't requested anything from her, either. But what happened was demeaning to Charlotte all the same. It had been a long time since she felt such hatred for herself, for being so stupid and impulsive an
The Art Museum Gala was a pillar of Atlantian high society, held each year to fund the conservation and restoration of their evergrowing collection of historical pieces. The latest addition to the museum had been a collection of a famous European painter who had spent some time in Atlanta during the Reconstruction era, and it was a very big deal. Charlotte wasn't too familiar with the art world in general, but she had attended the Gala every year, even taking some time off work to come back to the city when she was studying in Savannah. Her father had donated a lot to the museum when he was alive, and even though what she could donate now would never amount to that, she wanted to keep the tradition alive. Everyone who was anyone in Atlant attended, and each year it had a theme. Last year it had been the purple ball, in honor of some tapestries that had been added to the museum's collection. This year it happened to be a costume ball again, which made it even mo
Charlotte couldn't stop looking at herself in the mirror. The dress fit her like a glove, tight in all the right places and hugging her curves to perfection as if it had been made for her. It shimmered in the light; when she moved, she shone. The red-stoned necklace was an excellent complement to the dress. The doorbell shook her out of her self-contemplation, and she hurried to the elevator as fast as her six-inch heels could carry her. Floyd was waiting for her just outside the lobby, and when he turned to look at her, his mouth formed a perfect O. "Well, what do you think?" Charlotte said, twirling. "You look amazing," he said. Linda had done a good job with his clothes too. His black frac had long pointy lapels with a high neck, which went well with the puffy white shirt he wore underneath. With his hair combed backward, he looked quite vampiresque too. "Thank you," Charlotte said. "For everything." "Nothing to thank me f
Charlotte didn't understand what was happening. Who had suggested her for the auction? Because she definitely hadn't volunteered for this. She stepped out of the bathroom only to see that everyone was murmuring about her. "Who is she?" "They should move on to the next one. She must have left." "Is that the same Astor who's that guy's lawyer?" Mary appeared seemingly out of nowhere and gently grabbed her arm. "Charlotte? Are you OK? They're calling you to go on stage!" She seemed very excited about the whole thing, while Charlotte stood there, petrified. "How?..." was all she could say. "Mister! Here she is!" Mary waved her hand in the air, trying to get the director's attention. The spotlight that had been shining on him quickly moved to where Charlotte stood, as the crowd near her parted, making way for her to go to the stage. Charlotte began to move mechanically, trying to ignore the wh
I wanted to share and answer a few of the questions I’ve been asked by readers who have personally shared their feedback with me about The Lady and the Scoundrel. Is Charlotte Astor a flawed protagonist? Why did you choose this for her? The short answer is yes: Charlotte makes mistakes. A flawed protagonist refers to a lead that doesn’t have all the good qualities expected from a hero, which also doesn’t mean that they’re not good people. I chose to make Charlotte flawed because I wanted to take a different route to create her. A lot of the novels I’ve read online choose to make their female protagonists the epitome of what some people consider all the good qualities a woman should have: they are kind, relatable, selfless, sometimes to a fault. They let their antagonists step all over them until later on in the story, they gain confidence and step up to the situations life puts in their way. Charlotte,