Free No Return: A Contemporary Phantom Tale by Christine Pope Page A

I’d kill for one right now.”
    I raised my eyebrows, but luckily Randall wasn’t forced into homicide, as the waitress appeared at my elbow and asked what we’d like to drink.
    “Two Dos Equis,” Randall said. “Stat.”
    The waitress—her name badge announced that her name was Lupe—blinked, then smiled. Up until then she had been looking somewhat tired and even sour, but when she smiled she was an entirely different person. “That kind of day?”
    “You have no idea.”
    “In that case, I’ll make sure you get a double order of chips and salsa. And I’ll get those Dos Equis—stat,” she added with a grin as she left us.
    Randall ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m being an ass.”
    “Hey, if you’ve had a bad day—” Seeing him like this was harder than I had thought. After my evening with “the Phantom” and the dream that had followed, I’d been feeling more than a little guilty. I knew I was being silly—all I’d done was dance with the man for five minutes, after all, and I certainly couldn’t control my subconscious—but I didn’t think it was right for me to have felt the attraction I had experienced, not if I cared about Randall.
    The problem was that I knew nothing about love and attraction, really. After our first date, I had thought I was falling in love with Randall, or at least seriously in infatuation if nothing else, but what was my basis for comparison? A few high school crushes that had amounted to nothing? I wanted to be with him, thought of him when he wasn’t around, felt my heart speed up a little when he sought me out with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his and gave me a quick smile during class, but was it really love, or just an extension of my not wanting to be alone any longer? Surely if I were truly in love I wouldn’t have felt the touch of that stranger’s hand on mine for hours afterward, or shivered at the look in his dark eyes as he spoke with me. As for that dream...I didn’t know what to think.
    Randall’s voice brought me back to the present. “Even if I’ve had a bad day, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I just had some bad news this morning, that’s all.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    He hesitated, and then we were interrupted by the arrival of Lupe with our drinks. She set them down, along with the promised chips and salsa.
    “Ready to order?”
    Randall and I looked at each other, guilty. We had barely even glanced at the menus.
    “Give us a couple of minutes,” he said.
    “No problem,” she replied, and left again.
    He lifted the beer to his lips and drank deeply. I took a more cautious sip, then helped myself to a chip with some salsa. The beer tasted okay in combination with the chip, but it wasn’t something I would have sought out on my own.
    “Guess we’d better figure out what we’re having before we get into anything else,” Randall said, and for the next couple of minutes we busied ourselves with perusing the menus, preparing ourselves for Lupe’s return.
    Eventually we decided on carnitas for him and chicken molé for me, gave our orders to Lupe when she returned, then looked back at one other.
    There was an uneasy pause.
    “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay,” I said at length.
    He waved a hand. “No, that’s all right. I’m just simultaneously pissed off, frustrated, and confused, none of which are fun, especially all together.”
    “So what happened?”
    “Stupid bureaucratic screw-ups is what.” Randall took a more reasonable swallow of beer before continuing. “The duplex is paid for, and it’s in my name, but of course I’m responsible for paying the property taxes. They’re kind of hefty, but I just put the money away each month like I’m paying rent until it’s time to pay the tax bill in the spring, and I send it all in in one big chunk.” He frowned. “So this morning I pick up my mail, and there’s a notice from the county assessor’s office that