Free Surprise Package by Shirl Henke Page A

first from him. Charis had agreed with her this time. In fact, her friend had urged her to really “kick his butt!”
           Her footsteps came down hard on the snowy pavement as she made her way toward the small restaurant. He was waiting inside the dark interior, looking heart-stoppingly handsome. He wore jeans and that ratty old green sweater, his lucky sweater. You're going to need a lot more than luck to get out of this one, bud.
           When she walked closer she could see in the dim light that he looked tired and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. “Your night must've been even better than mine,” she said without preamble, not letting her guard down.
           He shrugged. A waiter glided up with menus and ushered them to a booth in the back. Although the room was crowded, conversations were muted, blending in a low hum. They removed their coats and hung them on the wall rack across from the booth, then scooted in opposite sides. As they looked across the table adversarially, the waiter took their drink order and beat a hasty retreat.
           “I don't know how to start, Gilly...”
           “How about by telling me where you were last night,” she supplied, shoving the menu aside.
           Jeff rubbed his eyes, which felt as if half the sand under the Coney Island pier was lodged behind the lids. “Look, I know you wanted me to meet your friends, and I fully intended to be there—”
           “Even if you didn't want to meet them? Look, Jeff, I guess I can see the handwriting on the wall. You're never going to level with me about who you are, other than that you're Lyle Brandt's son from Ridgecrest Drive in Scarsdale. I already know that. What I want to know—”
           His head was pounding as he tried to think through how he was going to admit the truth to her when her last words hit him. Lawyerlike, he interrupted, “How do you know about my father—where I lived?” At her blank look, he continued, “I never mentioned my father's name, and I sure as hell never reminisced about fond childhood memories on Ridgecrest Drive.”
           Her face began to heat up. Oh, shit! “Well, I, er, that is, I sort of investigated to see if you were who you claimed you were. Charis said—”
           “You society types sure do like to be certain of a guy's pedigree, don't you?” he lashed out before thinking. “What did you do, hire a discreet private detective to check up on me? That day you just happened to be on campus for a workshop—that was a setup, too, wasn't it?”
           Guilt was written all over her face, but Gilly's own temper was beginning to simmer. In fact, it had just come to a full, rolling boil when he accused her of hiring a private detective. “I probably should've hired a detective to find out about you, since it was obviously the only way I'd ever get the facts straight. You never had any intention of taking me to meet your family, did you? I was just some silly romantic fool to have a fling with, then walk away from, no strings! Well, let me help you out, Jeff.” Abruptly, she slid out from behind the table, practically knocking over their approaching waiter as she whirled around to glare at Jeff. “I'm walking away first—no strings, no regrets.”
           Go after her , a voice deep inside him urged. He almost gave in to it but then sat back down with a sigh and cupped his aching head in his hands. Life was just too damn complicated.
           The baleful-looking Chinese waiter seemed to agree. “You not order now, sir?” he said in halting English.
           “Afraid not,” Jeff muttered, pulling out his wallet and extracting enough to pay for the pot of oolong tea and a generous tip. “Never get involved with high society, my friend.”
           The waiter nodded gravely at the parting “fortune cookie” advice.
     
    * * * *
     
           All afternoon Gilly thought she was