This time her smile lit up her face. It did strange things to the rhythm of his pulse. “The quintessential Small Town, USA, boy next door. I bet they’re very proud of you.”

He gave a sheepish grin. “They are proud of me. My parents have always supported me.”

The waiter appeared with their plates. Seconds after he served them, he disappeared without a word. For a few minutes, they both concentrated on eating. Rick enjoyed the spices with his perfectly prepared medium-rare lamb and the flavor of the rice. Cynthia, who had only taken delicate bites of the bread, dug into her chicken and rice as if it were a contest. He liked watching her eat.

They chatted about family, college, travel. As the waitstaff cleared their plates and replaced them with a fruit plate, Rick brought the topic back to her father. “How long did it take you to find out you were the daughter of the VP?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I used that satellite connection to check email once a week, so I found out four days later. His party put him on that path when he was a junior senator from Virginia.”

“So, he was part of that corrupt nanny state government?”

Cynthia swallowed and nodded. “That’s how I know the scope of it. Daddy fought it hard the whole time. Sent three people to jail. A drop in the ocean. He’s always had ambitions of high office. He wanted to fix things from the top down. He has the charisma to pull it off too. Especially now that he’s the VP. His name is more well-known now—he’s more in the public eye.”

Rick chuckled. “He seems to have earned a lot of respect. From all public accounts, he’s a man of integrity. That’s high praise these days.”

“He absolutely is.” She shook her head. “However, I do not ever get involved. I am not a politically minded person. I’ve seen a lot in the background that makes me rather disgusted with the entire system and both parties.”

The waiter arrived with the check, and Rick asked him to split it in two.

Cynthia picked it up. “I’ve got it.”

“No, ma’am, you don’t.” Even while she scribbled on the check, he said to the waiter, “Put my charges on my room.”

“What room, sir?”

“Four zero five.”

Cynthia held up the bill. “Already taken care of, Rick.”

The waiter took the bill from her and disappeared.

“You don’t need to buy my dinner, Cynthia,” Rick said. “This meal is paid for. If you pay your taxes every year, you’ve already bought my dinner.”

She gave a brilliant smile. “You’re welcome.”

That made him laugh. They stood and walked together to the elevator. He used his key card to access the floor, then pressed the number four. He looked at her. “What floor?”