Free Obsessed by Jo Gibson

then he’d congratulated her very nicely. But Judy was sure he’d forgotten all about the fact that he had a daughter until she’d appeared to remind him.
    Judy sighed. She didn’t really play a part in Buddy’s life, or Pamela’s, either. She’d never even called them Father or Mother. They’d told her that they preferred to be addressed as Buddy and Pamela, and Judy had never broken that rule.
    At first Judy had tried to get their attention, to prove that she could be a good daughter. She’d made the honor roll in school, she hadn’t caused a speck of trouble, and she’d kept her room immaculate. But Pamela and Buddy didn’t seem to care what she did—as long as she didn’t bother them. Her adoptive parents were strangers who just hap pened to be living at the same address, and growing up had been very lonely for Judy.
    Judy still remembered her thirteenth birthday. Marta had planned a party and all her friends had come, but Buddy had been in Europe on business, and Pamela had spent the entire week shopping in Paris. When Pamela had come home, she’d given Judy a lovely designer outfit, all gift wrapped for her birthday. Judy had been delighted until she’d tried it on and realized that Pamela hadn’t even known her correct size.
    Of course, there were a lot of advantages to living in luxury. Judy never had to cook or clean, and she always had plenty of money. Buddy and Pamela had enrolled her at Vassar, and she’d be going there right after high school. Judy wasn’t delighted about Vassar. Her grades were good, and she could have gone to any college of her choice. But Pamela had patiently explained that Lampert women always went to Vassar. It was the only place for a young woman of her standing to meet other people from suitably similar backgrounds.
    Judy walked down the carpeted hallway and peeked into the kitchen. It was dark. Marta was already in bed. She opened the refrigerator, took out a Diet Coke and carried it upstairs to her room. If Pamela had been awake, she would have insisted that Judy use a glass. Drinking out of a can wasn’t the sort of thing a Lampert did.
    As Judy flipped on the lights to her suite, she wondered what Pamela and Buddy would do if they knew she was working at Covers. Naturally, she hadn’t told them. And they hadn’t even noticed that she’d been gone every night until almost midnight. There were some advantages in hav ing absentee parents. Of course, Marta knew. Judy had con vinced her to sign the parental permission slip that Mr. Calloway had put in her personnel file. Marta hadn’t wanted to do it, but Judy h ad persuaded her by promising she wouldn’t mention the boyfriend that came to stay with her when Pamela and Buddy were gone.
    Judy walked into her living room and used the universal remote to switch on her large color television. Then she sat down in the swivel rocker and kicked off her shoes. Even though it was past midnight, she didn’t feel like sleeping in her king-sized canopied bed. She couldn’t see Michael’s house from her bedroom, but she could from here.
    A touch of the remote control dimmed the lights. Another button opened the floor-length drapes. Michael’s house was right next door, and his bedroom faced hers. She’d sat here almost every night last year, watching him study at his desk, his head bent over his books. Every once in a while, a lock of hair would fall over his eyes and he’d brush it back with an impatient gesture. That gesture had always made Judy smile. Her hair did the same thing when she sat at her desk and studied.
    But Michael wasn’t home tonight. His room was dark. He was with Mary Beth. Judy tried to imagine what they were doing. Michael had said things had gotten heavy. Did that mean what she thought it meant? She’d been at Mary Beth’s house once, a small two-story place with an addition built over the garage that they used for a recreation room. Two white leather couches lined the room, and there was an