Tempting the Crown (The Crown 1)

“Are you sure? Did he say what city? How long it took him to get there? Anything like that?”

I rolled my eyes. “He did bring me a gift.”

“He did?”

“A box of liquor-filled chocolates. It was sort of an apology gift.”

“That’s a new one.”

“They were actually really good.” It was a childish reaction to defend the gift.

“No, I mean the gift. I don’t remember him doing that before.”

I looked at the agent. I hated it when he compared me to the other marks. The women before me Vaughn had used. Only to them he hadn’t been Vaughn. He was Jake or Scott. Edward one time. It made my head spin thinking of all his identities. The stories he must have told. The careers he invented. I imagined each one played into the interest of the woman he seduced. He learned about what they liked. He studied their families. He took them to bed.

“Anything else?” I looked at my phone. It was time for me to walk to the shuttle.

“I’ll follow up tomorrow.” He turned off the recorder.

“I’m going to New Bern for Thanksgiving,” I informed him. “I assume I get a break for the holiday, or do you want to have pumpkin pie with my mother?”

He chuckled. “You are quite the smartass, Miss Charles.”

My stomach cinched. Vaughn had said that not long ago. He always called me “smartass.”

“Good night.” I walked toward the shuttle. “I’ll see you after Thanksgiving.”

“Good night, Miss Charles. Enjoy your holiday.”

The leaves rustled at my feet as I crunched over them. The wheels of the shuttle squeaked to a halt and I climbed aboard.

I hadn’t forgotten I had the apartment to myself tonight. Greer and Preston were on a date. She described it as a chance for them to get to know each other again. He had decided that Greer wasn’t as toxic to his career as he thought. No one in the Senate seemed to have even noticed they were dating.

I was in no position to give her relationship advice. So I kept my mouth shut and told her I’d be fine on my own. I had exams to grade. Exams that were mostly composed of essays. I needed quiet if I was going to get through them. Tonight it was better that I was left alone.

I held the bar overhead on the Metro. I commuted home on autopilot. I didn’t notice the signs anymore, or strain to listen for the crackled announcements. My body had learned how to count the minutes from Tenleytown to Adams Morgan. My legs carried me up the stairs to the street level without prompting. I was a part of the crowd now. One of the many D.C.’ers. I blended in in my Keds.

I didn’t think it would happen, but over time my appetite came back. I had lost five pounds from the grief. Tonight, I made a small pot of pasta and poured a glass of wine while I pulled up the submitted exams online.

I sat at the kitchen counter prepared to station myself here for the night. There was a basic rubric for grading. But I had added two bonus questions that gave students the chance to present their own take on legal philosophy. There was no true right or wrong. The questions were completely subjective to my interpretation, but I wanted to give them a challenge. Something that would allow them to think spontaneously, not just regurgitate answers they had studied from case history. Jessie was in favor of the system, while Gregory had argued I was being too tough on the students.

The pot started to boil and I rushed to turn the heat down on the burner. The water and olive oil splashed over the sides.

“Shit,” I murmured. The droplets burned my skin.

And then I heard it. A clamor. A crash that came from the balcony. It was probably one of the cats that wandered from next door. I had caught them trying to stalk our bird houses.

I turned the stove off and walked to the door. I slid it to the side and stepped onto the rooftop.

“Shoo,” I hissed. “Get out of here.” I scanned the chairs and the bird house stand for the cats.

It was quiet. It was dark. I couldn’t see well, but I noticed the shadowy figure in the corner. Tall and broad.

“Oh God,” I whispered.

My skin crawled with panic. I didn’t have anything to defend myself. I didn’t have my phone to call 9-1-1. It was inside on the counter.

I backed up, trying to reach for the door, but my movements felt slow and clumsy. I wanted to get inside and lock him out when the man stepped from the darkness. He walked toward me, the shadow covering half his face, encasing the rest of his body in blackness.