“A decision about what?” Alec asked, pouring his beer from the bottle into a mug.
“I’m going to apply to law school this fall.”
“What about the Foundation?”
“Now that it’s adequately funded, I feel okay walking away for a couple of years to get my law degree. I’ll still help in the summers and during any breaks.”
Alec nodded, but she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Why are you wearing your sunglasses and that hat inside?”
Grinning, he shrugged. “I like them. Don’t you?”
“They’re okay, but they make you look like you’re hiding from someone.”
For the briefest moment, his smile faltered and then he slipped off his sunglasses, but not before he lowered the brim of his hat. “Better?”
“Yes.”
He lifted his mug of beer and tipped it toward her. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order.”
She laughed and lifted her wine glass to tap his mug. “I think that’s a little premature. I still have to take the LSAT and get in somewhere.”
“I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Are you going to stay here and go to the University of Montana?”
Violet blinked and then tapped her fingers on the table. “I wish, but my parents are pushing for me to go to their alma mater, and as amazing as that would be, I’m a little nervous about the whole idea.” She took a deep breath and exhaled, nervous about the thought of living anywhere but Montana.
“Where’d they go?”
“UCLA.”
“Wow. That would be a change,” Alec said.
“I know. I’ve lived here my whole life and I think I’d feel totally out of place there.” She leaned back against the booth, contemplating leaving. “I just don’t think I’ll fit in, not that I know from first hand experience or anything. But—”
“But?”
“Going there would really kick start my career. I’d have a lot of contacts…more than I’d make here, and I’d have a better launching pad to make a difference with troubled kids.” She paused. “But it’d be weird to leave Montana, my brother, and Annette. They’ve been the constants in my life since I was a kid…no, since I was born. I can’t remember life without them.”
She chewed her lower lip and then he reached across the table, squeezing her hand briefly. “You’ll be fine. It’s not as bad as you’re imagining. There are lots of different kinds of people in LA, not just the kind you’re thinking.”
She nodded absently. “I hope so.”
“I’m there. Am I that bad?” He smiled softly.
“No.”
“You’ll find friends.”
“I might just stay here. Montana has a respectable law school.” Her eyes flickered away quickly. As dumb as it sounded, she wanted him to offer to hang out when she moved there and at least remain friends, but he didn’t and that said a lot about the path of their relationship. She blew out a forceful breath, trying to redirect her thoughts. Alec didn’t promise a relationship or even a friendship after he left. “Speaking of LA, did you decide when you’re leaving?”
“Friday.”
A pang of something resembling disappointment ripped through her chest, which was completely stupid because they both knew this relationship was temporary. He had to go home eventually. Trying to regroup one more time, she forced her lips to smile, but it felt suspiciously like a grimace. “Right. Of course. The month ends on Sunday.”
“I wanted to stay through the weekend, but I can’t. I need to go back. Pressing work…and all.”
“I can’t imagine how you got your boss to agree to let you leave for this long.”
“True. I shouldn’t push my luck. He’s a slave driver and he wants to meet Saturday morning to catch up on some things.”
“That’s only a couple days away.”
Falling silent again, they stared at each other across the booth.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. “I probably won’t go back to the Foundation again. I have a few things I need to take care of before I leave.”
“Your mom and dad,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
“Something like that.”
“What are you going to say?”
He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “We’ll talk about family stuff.”
“Family stuff,” she mocked, but she smiled so he realized she didn’t have any hard feelings about his evasive answer. “You know what?”
He raised his eyebrows.
She pointed at him, waving her finger back and forth. “You owe me a question.”