Judge's List by John Grisham

I’ve said too much and I don’t want to talk about the case.”
    The phone eventually stopped vibrating. Allie put it in his pocket as if he would never touch it again. The crab salads were served and the waiter poured more wine. As if on cue, the clouds rolled in and the sun disappeared.
    “Chance of scattered showers,” Allie said. “As I recall from my weather app, which is still on my phone, which is tucked away in my pocket and untouchable.”
    “Ignore it. If it rains it rains. We’re not going anywhere. A question.”
    “Sure.”
    “It’s almost three on a Friday afternoon. Does your boss know where you are?”
    “Not exactly, but he knows I’m off with my girlfriend for the weekend. And Cleopatra?”
    “I don’t care. And she doesn’t either. She’ll be gone in a few months.”
    “And you, Lacy? How much longer will you be there?”
    “Oh, that’s the great question, isn’t it? I’ve stayed too long in a dead-end job and now it’s past time to leave. But where do I go?”
    “It’s not a dead end. You enjoy your work and it’s important.”
    “Perhaps. Maybe occasionally. But it’s not exactly heavy lifting anymore. I’m bored with it and I probably say that to you too often.”
    “It’s just me here. You can tell me anything.”
    “My deepest, darkest secrets?”
    “Please. I’d love to hear them.”
    “But you wouldn’t tell me, Allie. You’re not wired that way. You’re too much of an agent to drop your guard.”
    “What do you want to know?”
    She smiled at him and sipped her wine. “Okay. Where will you be one year from now?”
    He frowned and looked away. “That’s a punch in the gut.” A sip of his own wine. “I don’t know, really. I’ve been with the Bureau for eight years and love it. I always figured I’d be a lifer, that I’d chase the bad guys until they put me in an office at the age of fifty and kicked me out the door at fifty-seven, the mandatory. But, I’m not so sure now. What I do is often thrilling and rarely boring, but it’s definitely a younger man’s job. I look at the guys who are pushing fifty and they’re burning out. Fifty is not that old, Lacy. I’m not sure I’ll be a career guy.”
    “You’ve thought about leaving?”
    “Yes.” It was tough to admit and she doubted he had ever said so before. He sniffed his wine, drank some, and said, “And, there’s something else. I’ve been in Tallahassee for five years and it’s time for a change. There are more and more hints of transfers. It’s part of the business, something we all expect.”
    “You’re getting transferred?”
    “I didn’t say that. But there might be some pressure over the next few months.”
    Lacy was stunned and tried hard not to show it. After a moment she was surprised by how unsettling it was. The thought of not being with Allie was, well, inconceivable. She managed to ask, calmly, “Where would you go?”
    He casually glanced around, the way savvy agents learn to do, saw no one even remotely interested in them, and said, “This is on the quiet. The director is organizing a national task force on hate groups and I’ve been invited to sort of try out for the team. I have not said yes or no, and if I said yes there’s no guarantee that I would be chosen. But it’s a prestigious group of elite agents.”
    “Okay. Where would you be assigned?”
    “Either Kansas City or Portland. But it’s all preliminary.”
    “Are you tired of Florida?”
    “No. I’m tired of lost weekends chasing cartels. I’m tired of living in a cheap apartment and not being sure about the future.”
    “I can’t handle a long-distance romance, Allie. I prefer to have you close by.”
    “Well, as of now, I have no plans to leave. It’s just a possibility. Can we talk about you?”
    “I’m an open book.”
    “Anything but. The same question: Where will you be one year from now?”
    She drank some wine. The waiter brushed by, stopped long enough to top off both glasses, and