Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

The vulnerability somehow made me trust him more. I couldn’t explain it. I was in his hands in every sense of the word.

The hostess smiled when Vaughn gave his name for the reservation. She guided us through tables until we were seated in a back corner. It was dark and private.

“How was your day?” he asked.

He had dressed in simple charcoal pants and a white shirt. He still had a tan even though it was fall.

“I added eight clients to my caseload.”

“Is that a good thing for you? Sorry, I don’t know much about what it is you do.”

“It’s a little overwhelming,” I admitted. “I didn’t get eight new cases a week back home. This is a different world.” I paused. “But it does mean eight women who need help will get it. And the more cases I take, the more it adds to my portfolio at the clinic. All good things.” I smiled.

“Is that your end game? To build up your resume here?”

“Yes and no.”

He held the wine list close to the candle in the center of the table.

I continued, “When I moved here, it was with every intention to get one of the open spots.”

“And now?” He closed the wine book and looked at me.

“The last few weeks have opened my eyes. I’m embarrassed to say that.”

“What embarrasses you?”

“Thinking about where I started in law school and where I ended up.”

He cocked his head sideways. “I don’t follow.”

“I’ve spent the last few years doing the most boring type of law on the planet. Not following my true interests. Settling for less than what I saw for myself.” I didn’t know where the confession had come from. “And even though I’m helping people now, I realize I wasted time not doing it. I stuck my head in the sand and let other things distract me. I was so naïve.”

“But you’re here now.”

“Yes. I am.”

We sat back in our chairs when the waiter came to take our order. Vaughn ordered a bottle of red wine and dismissed him quickly.

“Any regrets about moving?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.” It was the first time I was confident in my answer since I moved. “I think this is where I’m supposed to be.”

“D.C. has a way of growing on people.”

“What about you? How long have you been here?”

He ran his thumb over his bottom lip and moved his elbows when the waiter returned with our wine.

“Five years. I moved for the job and haven’t thought about going anywhere else.”

I reached for my glass of wine.

“There’s something to be said for finding a place you like.”

He nodded. “If my job moves me, then I’ll worry about that then.”

“Is that a possibility?” There was a needle of fear with that idea. Even if it was too soon to have that feeling.