Free To Sleep Gently by Trent Zelazny Page B

disconnected. Dempster looked to where Carly had been standing. She wasn't there but he could still see her, even when he closed his eyes. She had branded herself onto his brain, and that annoyed him. With everything else going on, the last thing he needed was to have some girl thrown into the mix.
    Suddenly Mike's voice came over the store's loudspeaker. "Jack Dempster, please come to the book information desk. Your party is waiting with a message for you."
    He didn't like being beckoned over the P.A. like that. The second he started walking over he saw people looking at him. Now they knew who he was. They were saying to themselves, "That's Jack Dempster."
    Mike was at the computer, typing away. "Hey, Jerky, I'm sorry. Turns out Philip just went to lunch, so I'm actually stuck here another hour. I dunno if you wanna come back or not, but I don't imagine that you want to spend another hour here."
    Dempster had no idea who Philip was. "That's cool," he said. "I've got some other stuff to do. How about we play it by ear. If I can, I'll stop back by, and if things work out, they work out."
    "All right. Again, I'm sorry."
    "Nothing to be sorry about."
    "Hey, how about dinner tonight? You still haven't seen Angela."
    "What are you thinking?"
    "I dunno, we could make something at home." He quickly raised his hand. "Don't worry, I know how you are—nothing too formal. You know that's not our style. Hell, we could even order a pizza or something like that, if you like. Or we could go out."
    Dempster thought on it a moment, then said, "Yeah, all right. That sounds good. I don't have anything going on."
    Mike wrote down directions to the house. Dempster glanced at them, and then stuck the paper into his pocket and asked, "What time you want me there?"
    "When is good for you?"
    "Whenever."
    "How about eight?"
    "Eight it is."
    They said goodbye, and Dempster walked through the store, thinking and wondering—worrying—about the change in fence men, but finding his eyes searching for the intriguing redhead who apparently frightened him. When he didn't find her, figuring it to be a good thing, he made his exit, and met his car halfway across the parking lot. It was nice and sunny out. He fished into his pocket for his keys, and as he did, he heard the two-tap honk of a car horn. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a red Toyota Tercel stopped directly behind him, blocking in his Honda. Behind the wheel, staring at him with those magnetic eyes, was Carly Whittaker.
    "Where are you going?"
    Dempster looked at her. The odd stir of excitement he felt inside angered him. He wanted nothing to do with her, yet here he was taking a step toward the Tercel. "I'm busy," he said.
    "Busy hanging out at Essentials every day?"
    This angered him more, but still he took another step. He didn't want to, he cursed himself for doing it, but it was as though he had no control of himself.
    "I'm fed up with this neighborhood," she said. Her tone was casual. "I'm fed up with this whole town. Nothing to do, always hanging around, waiting for something to happen. And nothing ever happens." She looked at him. "I'm dying for something to happen."
    "So, go do something about it," he told her.
    "Well, I can't do it alone."
    "That's your problem."
    "Don't you wanna give me a hand?"
    "In what way?"
    "In having a good time. Having some fun. Finding something to do that doesn't involve so much damn waiting."
    "Sorry," he said, "I think you're on your own." Yet, still, even as he said it, he took another step forward.
    "You wanna hop in?" she asked.
    "Not especially."
    "Sure you do." She reached across and opened the passenger door.
    "Let's go get some lunch." When Dempster didn't budge, she told him, "It's just lunch. You have to eat sometime."
    Staring at her, he let his eyes ask many questions, though he sadly found that these questions were mostly directed at himself. Before he knew what he was doing, he was climbing into the Tercel and closing the door.
    She pulled away,