Dad occasionally took her to McDonald's for dinner, as if she were still a little girl, never thinking to take her to the kind of places he took Patsy..."Anastasia? Elizabeth?" This from a rather puzzled-looking Betty."Look around. Soak in the atmosphere. Get the feel of this place. Stacy's and Betty's don't come here. They go to Denny's. This is where elegant ladies come for fine food and drink. A place where Elizabeth and Anastasia can relax and enjoy themselves. God, I feel better already.". Steve was looking for the connection.Oh my.Steve wasn't wagering just two minutes, I realized. He was playing for bigger stakes. Much bigger.That scared me.That tugged at me.What were my stakes? I took a deep breath and looked around my apartment. It was pretty empty, I realized. Not as spartan as Steve's bedroom, but still. Utilitarian furniture accumulated in bits and pieces through my college years. The scatter of books and papers and a few houseplants. My prized hockey possession—the. More

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