I almost laughed.Well, this should be good."Why not?"
"I just don't," she said. "So forget you saw me, all right?"
Now, I couldn’t help but scoff. Obviously, she was meeting someone, probably some guy for whatever – drugs, sex, a good time. I didn't know, and I didn't care.
Anna was the richest girl in town. Whoever she was meeting, she'd be slumming it, at least in daddy's eyes.
Like the smartass I was, I couldn't resist teasing, "So, does your dad know you're out here?"
She stiffened. "Shut up."
I was grinning now. "So, he doesn't?"
"Will youpleasejust go away?"
I'd seen Anna a few times in the halls, surrounded by friends that weren't nearly as rich as her, but still a whole lot richer than me.
Then again, everyone was.
Me – I was John Archer, a charity case, a foster kid, the unwanted spawn of a woman I barely remembered, except in my nightmares.
But Anna Burke, she was living the dream. I gave her a knowing smile. "So, what are you doing? Slumming it?"
"What?"
I made a show of looking around. "Unless, youlivein the ditch?"
She didn't.Obviously.This stretch of road was just a quarter-mile from the river. On the river, houses were big and fancy – and off limits to the likes of me.
Here, it was a different story. Here, there were open roads and not much else, except wooded lots and the occasional hiking trail.
If a rich chick were going to sneak out of her riverfront home to meet someone on the sly, this was as good a place as any.
Still, I had to scoff. One thing about rich girls, they were never as smart as they thought they were. If she'd been smarter, she would've remembered to bring a coat.
From the shadows, Anna replied, "Yeah. I live here. In the ditch." Her voice deepened, as if mimicking an old man. "So get off my lawn."
I laughed in spite of myself. "Doesn't look like a lawn to me."
"Yeah, well, the gardener's been a little busy."
As far as a joke, it wasn't half bad. And I might've laughed if not for the fact that she probablydidhave a gardener. And a maid. And a fucking chauffer for all I knew.
I gave her a hard look. "What about the driver? Is he busy, too?"
She shook her head. "What driver?"
If she didn't get it, I wasn't about to explain. "Forget it."
"Seriously, John..." She bit her lip. "That's your name, right?" She swallowed hard, and her voice hitched, like she just might cry. "You need to leave."
Shit.
I wasn't smiling anymore.
I wasn't known for being a nice guy, but that hitch in her voice made me ask, "Hey, you need a ride somewhere?"
"No," she whispered. "Just go away, like I said."
