Carly's Gift by Georgia Bockoven

more.”
    â€œI should hardly be recovered from the trip by then.”
    Weary of their trivial exchange, he wanted to shout, Then stay where you are, but that bit of self-indulgence would only prolong their conversation. “I didn’t say you had to accompany me home.”
    â€œThat’s thoughtful of you, but I expect once you’ve seen what I have in mind for us, you’ll be staying, too.”
    He pulled the cap off the Mont Blanc pen his agent had sent along with the first million-dollar contract she’d negotiated for him to sign. “Why don’t you give me—”
    There was a quick, soft knocking on the door.
    David turned toward the sound. “Hold on a minute,” he said into the phone. “I’ve got—” He stopped. Did he really want to explain a late-night caller to Victoria?
    â€œDavid?”
    â€œI’m here,” he said quickly. “I’ve, uh, I’ve got a cramp in my leg. Give me your flight number and we’ll finish this conversation when you get here.”
    He wrote the information down, said a hasty good-bye, and headed for the door. As he put his hand on the knob, the thought crossed his mind that it made more sense for Ethan to be standing outside than Carly.
    But it was neither.
    â€œAndrea—what in God’s name are you doing here?”
    She took a small step backward as if she might turn and leave without saying anything. Several seconds passed before she swallowed convulsively and said, “I need to talk to you.”
    David looked past her, down the walkway, and out into the parking lot.
    â€œI’m alone.”
    Cold air swirled around him, making his sweats cling like a frigid second skin. “Does your mother know you’re here?”
    She shook her head. “Please, can I come in?”
    â€œI don’t think that’s such a good idea, Andrea. It’s late and . . .” He left the thought dangling. Was it her reputation he was worried about or his own discomfort over seeing his supposed “daughter” actually standing in front of him? She was plainly upset about something and in need of someone to talk to. “Of course you can come in,” he said at last. “Could I get you a Coke? There’s a machine by the office.”
    â€œNo, thank you.”
    Where the room had seemed small before, Andrea’s presence made it feel like a closet. He motioned to the sole chair. “Do you want to sit down?”
    Instead of taking the chair, she perched on the corner of the bed, her spine rigid, her feet planted squarely on the floor. She had an abandoned, out-of-place look about her, like a flamingo sitting in a snowdrift.
    â€œWhat can I do for you?” David asked, forcing his tone to sound receptive, encouraging.
    Andrea lifted her gaze from her folded hands and looked at him, as if taking his measure and finding him wanting. “I’m not sure.”
    â€œWell, why did you come here tonight?”
    â€œTo talk to you.”
    â€œAbout?” he prompted.
    â€œI wanted to find out what kind of person you are.”
    David frowned— that hadn’t even been in the running. “For any reason in particular?”
    â€œI know about you,” she said, a flush coloring her cheeks.
    David tensed. “You know what about me?” he asked evenly.
    Her gaze bore into him. “I was awake last night when you came to the house.”
    It was stupid to continue to dance around the truth but easier than confronting it. “How much did you hear?”
    â€œEverything.” She used the word like a weapon.
    â€œCould you be more specific?”
    â€œI know you’re my real father.” Glaring at him, she added, “Is that specific enough?”
    He went to the chair and sat down heavily. It took a major effort to appear calm when every time his heart beat it felt as if it were about to leap from his chest.
    â€œHave you talked