Tempting the Crown (The Crown 1)

We moved on to the second station when I felt my phone buzz.

“Hold on just a second.” I winced. “I’m sorry it’s work.” I stepped outside, aggravated Meg had called.

“Hi,” I answered.

“I’m so sorry to call you on your weekend away, but I thought you needed to know about this.”

“What is it?” I rushed her. I wanted to get back inside.

“Lana Foley hasn’t returned any of my calls.”

“She hasn’t confirmed the Monday deposition?”

“No,” Meg answered. “I’ve left messages on her cell. I emailed her personal accounts and I haven’t heard back for the past three days.”

I exhaled. “Maybe she isn’t somewhere where she can respond.” She was supposed to tell her husband about the baby and the senator before the deposition.

If she hadn’t talked to him yet it made sense she wouldn’t answer Meg’s calls.

“For three days? I think you need to try and see if you can reach her. Maybe she’ll answer if it’s you instead of me.”

“It shouldn’t make a difference. This is her case. If she wants to sue him, she has to show up.” I lectured as if Meg was responsible.

“But what if it’s something else?”

I could see Vaughn through the sliding farm doors of the barn. He was listening intently to the lesson on the next wine. He stood out in the small gathering. I would have noticed him in any crowded room. The way he held his frame. His strong arms. His eyes.

“It’s Saturday, Meg. Saturday.” It almost came out as a whine.

“Have I ever called you on Saturday before?” she prodded.

“No.”

“I’ll text you her number. Can you at least call? Please?”

I shook my head. Lana Foley’s case was chipping away at my time with Vaughn.

“All right. Send it over and I’ll try to call her.”

“Thank you, Emily. I just hope she’s ok.”

“Why wouldn’t she be ok?” I stopped before I let myself finish the thought. “I’ll call you right back.”

I hung up and waited for the text.

Vaughn strolled out of the barn, carrying a tiny cup. “You missed the pear apricot one.” He dropped the sexy smile. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“It’s a client. She’s not responding to us and we have a huge deposition with her Monday. I need to try to make a few calls. I’m sorry.” I looked at him with regret. I knew I was letting the outside world into our bubble.

“I’ll walk you back to the room. You can make all the calls you need to.”

“Are you sure?” I hated it. I hated work. Right now I had some not-so-nice things to say about Lana Foley.

“Of course. I’ll do some work too. I brought my laptop in case.” He tossed the cup into a bin.

“We shouldn’t be working. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“No apologies. Come on. I’ll get you back to the room. Hop on.”