Read Surprise Me for Free Online Page A

matter?”
    “Something like that.” Daniel can’t have this conversation now, out in the open, while he’s walking. It takes too much concentration simply not to pass out.
    “I just walk into the interview with a positive attitude and everything works out?”
    Daniel grunts, puts his head down, walks faster. They cross the quad in front of the student union, only the stone steps—there are twenty-seven of them; Daniel counts them every time—to go before they’re in front of Lathrop Hall.
    “Why don’t you try that yourself, Dad, and tell me how it works out?”

    Daniel hears the anger in his son’s voice but he can’t deal with it now. Nothing matters except getting to his office. He opens the heavy door into Lathrop—finally, inside!—and takes the stairs with long strides.
    The two men reach the second-floor landing together, anxiety fueling the father, anger fueling his son. Daniel doesn’t stop; his focus is lasered on his office door, midway down the hall on the right. If he can get inside, he’ll be fine, he’ll be able to breathe, this thumping of his heart will quiet. He doesn’t see Isabelle leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for him, two white Starbucks cups in her hands.
    But Stefan sees her. “Hey—you waiting for my dad?”
    Oh, his son, of course. Isabelle can immediately see the resemblance—the high cheekbones, the blond hair that furrows away from a broad face. And the ice-blue eyes.
    Isabelle nods, but Daniel can only concentrate on getting his key into the door and the door open. He fumbles with it. Of course he does—his hands are shaking. Stefan doesn’t help; instead he directs his attention to Isabelle.
    “Stefan Jablonski,” he tells her.
    “Isabelle.”
    “You a writer?”
    She hesitates, then: “Your dad and I are trying to sort that out.”
    “Oh, you’re in trouble, then.” Daniel disappears into his office, gone from sight, so Stefan can say, “Can’t you find someone else to help you with that?”
    Isabelle looks at him, stunned. What a strange thing for a son to say. “I don’t want to find someone else.”
    “He’s got writer’s block, you know. He can’t help himself, so good luck with his helping you.”
    “Are you coming in?” Daniel bellows out the office door.
    Stefan turns to go. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    Isabelle watches him walk down the hall, his shoulders hunched against some private trouble she doesn’t want to even think about now. Wow, angry kid.

    “Isabelle!” Another summons from inside the office, and she takes a deep breath, gathers her courage—it’s always hard for her to begin these meetings. What is he going to say? Did he like her pages? Does she have it within her to be a writer? Will he give her what she needs? All those questions are swirling in her brain as she forces herself to walk into the office, the two cappuccinos in hand. She finds him in his customary place, sitting behind his desk.
    “You drink coffee?”
    “I’m not supposed to,” he says as he reaches for the white cup.
    She settles into her corner of the couch. They look at each other. Each samples the coffee. She waits. He pulls her pages from his briefcase and puts them in front of him on the desk. All eating up time. It feels like he doesn’t want to begin, and Isabelle tenses in anticipation.
    “You need to get out of your own way.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Too much head and not enough heart.”
    “Oh.”
    And she’s wounded. He can see that. She flicks her bangs over her eyes, a cover-up, and he curses himself silently. How can he put it so she understands? He tries again. “You need to stop thinking so much when you write and let your instinct take over—that’s when your writing takes off.” And then, more gently: “That’s when you have a voice.”
    She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t…”
    “Here,” he says, “this is good. ‘She chose each house by its degree of difficulty. The more