Free Surprise Package by Shirl Henke

She had wanted him to meet her best friends, the nearest thing she had to family. He knew she also wanted to meet his parents, even though she'd been very careful not to say so directly. Gilly was the sort of woman who expected to be treated that way when a relationship became as intense as theirs had.
           She was entitled to better than his last-minute retreats and unexplained absences. But was he ready for that kind of commitment? He honestly didn't know. What he did know was that Gillian Newsom scared him to death. She represented everything he had left behind after the last fight with his father when he'd left Scarsdale for good and went to see the world courtesy of Uncle Sam.
           Although the Newsoms might have been from a small town in Ohio, they were clearly the same sort of socially prominent, hidebound conservative people as his family. And they were rich. Gilly surely made a very respectable salary working for a big publishing house, but that alone could not have paid for the way she lived. Family wealth must be kicking in to supplement her income. His career plans would put him in an income bracket barely above food stamps. And what about the way he worked his way through law school?
           What would Gilly think?
           Right now, she was his primary concern. He cared altogether too much for her. But I won't be sucked into that kind of life. I hated it, and I'll never go back.
           Would she ask him to? They had never really talked specifically about where or how they would live. She probably assumed that he would fit in with her country club set. He had mentioned the idea of working in the D.A.'s office, but he doubted she realized what that would mean in terms of income.
           Of course, he had never wanted to dwell on those sorts of long-term plans. They reeked of stultifying marriages. After observing nearly thirty years of his parents' life, then his sister and brother-in-law's, he was sure that was not what he wanted. But he was damned if he knew what he did want.
           The telephone sat accusatorily on the bedside table. He started to pick it up and call Gilly. It was ten in the morning; and she was at work, even if she and her society friends had made a night of it. Of course, she might slam the receiver down the moment she heard his voice. “Can't blame her for that,” he muttered under his breath.
           He'd tried to phone her the moment he'd accepted Archie's offer yesterday evening, but her line was busy. He'd borrowed Karl's cell and tried again en route to the job, but he couldn't get through. All he could do was hire a messenger service to deliver his apologies.
           Swallowing a considerable amount of pride, he picked up the phone and dialed.
     
    * * * *
     
           Jeff's voice had sounded strained and tired. “Stop it. You're making excuses for him already!” she scolded herself. He could do that for himself, not her job, man. If he even deigned to try. All she'd ever gotten before was a simple apology with no frills added. Well, if you counted white roses, she guessed there were a few frills. But he couldn't buy his way out of this with flowers. Literally. He had no address for her place in Yonkers. He couldn't send flowers.
           She stood glumly, watching the Christmas shoppers bustling all around her, carrying bags filled with gifts. Ice skaters glided across the rink at Rockefeller Center. The enormous tree, all bedazzled with lights, stood in the distance. A light snow was falling. And she was stalling.
           Let him wait for me this time.
           When he called, she had made a frosty agreement to meet him at a small Chinese restaurant near Rock Center at noon. It was now twelve-fifteen. Charis had walked into her office first thing that morning to check on her and offer advice. Gilly knew she had to confess her deception to Jeff, but there were some things that simply had to come