The Maverick Part 24

"Great. Antone's is a nightclub on Fifth Street."

When they arrived at his building, Griff carried her bag upstairs. "Want a gla.s.s of wine while I fix your bath?"

"I'd love a gla.s.s of wine, but you don't have to fix my bath."

"Don't be so independent. Let me do this for you. Red or white?"

"White."

He filled two gla.s.ses and handed one to her. "I'll be right back." He flipped something and soft sax music drifted through the apartment. "Great sound system here."

In a few minutes he returned, picked up her wine and pulled her to her feet. "Your bath is drawn." He led her into his big spa-like bathroom, where a dozen candles perfumed the air and bubbles almost spilled out of the tub. "I overestimated the bubble bath a little, but I think this will do. Hop in. I'll be right back."

Ca.s.s didn't have to be asked twice. She quickly shed her clothes and stepped in.

And quickly stepped out. The water was scalding hot, and her toes were boiled. She began to add some cold, but the bubbles rose higher and higher like a giant souffle over the rim of the tub. She scooped a huge armload of foam and looked around for a place to put it.

The only logical place was the shower.

She was on her third armload when the door opened.

"What are you doing?" Griff asked.

"Moving bubbles. Help me. They're alive and multiplying." She handed him her load and reached for another.

"Honey, turn off the faucet."

"I can't find it!"

Mounds of bubbles were spilling onto the floor when Griff waded through the mess and managed to turn off the water. Hands on his hips and a disgusted expression on his face, he surveyed the foam covering the bathroom and spat out a very succinct expletive.

Ca.s.s picked up a big bunch of foam, shaped it into a huge ball and began singing "A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody" as she danced around the room.

Griff grinned, then began to laugh until they were both roaring. He hugged her to him, squashing her ball. "Ca.s.s, you're one of a kind. And how I love you!"

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Griff had to chuckle. Ca.s.s had insisted on taking the bath he'd prepared for her, and they'd finally herded enough of the foam into the shower stall for her to do so. Towels lined the floor, capturing the rest of the mess, and Ca.s.s lay, her head on a plastic pillow, surrounded by slowly diminishing bubbles, sound asleep. He knew she must be exhausted.

He knelt by the tub and kissed her. "Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"You have to wake up. You're getting wrinkly."

She opened her eyes. "Was I asleep?"

"You were. Come on. I'll help you dry off."

Between the two of them, they managed to get her dry, and he wrapped his robe around her and carried her to bed. Before he could undress and join her, she'd curled up and was sound asleep again.

He eased in under the sheets, feelings of protective tenderness filling his heart to near bursting.

He'd heard sappy love songs forever, but for the first time in his life he understood the meaning behind all of them. Heart and soul, she was the one. Whatever it cost him, Ca.s.s was worth it. He wanted to slay dragons and lay the world at her feet, and G.o.d help anyone who ever hurt her. Moreover, he wanted to rip out his tongue and stomp on it for ever agreeing to romance her out of Chili Witches. Griff had gotten caught in his own trap, and ZASM had been the biggest dragon of all.

Ca.s.s PURRED AND STRETCHED in bed like a satisfied cat. Nothing was quite as nice as making love in the morning. She rolled over onto her side and glanced at the clock. It was after nine, and she didn't care. She and Griff had all day to do nothing but eat, sleep and make love. How glorious. She stretched again, wondering if she should go join him in the shower. in bed like a satisfied cat. Nothing was quite as nice as making love in the morning. She rolled over onto her side and glanced at the clock. It was after nine, and she didn't care. She and Griff had all day to do nothing but eat, sleep and make love. How glorious. She stretched again, wondering if she should go join him in the shower.

On the nightstand a cell phone rang, and she automatically leaned over to look at the caller ID. ZASM. ZASM. Walter Zeagler again. How did that jerk get her phone number? Walter Zeagler again. How did that jerk get her phone number?

Then it dawned on her. The phone wasn't hers. It was Griff's. What the- Ca.s.s yanked up the phone. "h.e.l.lo."

"Honey, let me talk to Griff."

A rock landed in her stomach, and horror spread over her like an alien blob. Bile rose up in her throat as things began to click into place. Oh, no. Please, G.o.d, no. Oh, no. Please, G.o.d, no. She closed her eyes, hoping against hope... She closed her eyes, hoping against hope...

"And who may I say is calling?" she asked as sweetly as she could manage.

"Tell him it's Walt, Walt Zeagler."

"And what is this in reference to, Mr. Zeagler?"

"Look, I'm his partner. He'll know what it's about. Now shake your tail, sweet-cheeks."

Click. The guillotine dropped. Fury rolled over her in tsunami waves. "Kiss my a.s.s!" She hung up and turned off his phone. Not again! Dammit, not again! The guillotine dropped. Fury rolled over her in tsunami waves. "Kiss my a.s.s!" She hung up and turned off his phone. Not again! Dammit, not again!

She strode to the kitchen, poured three bottles of beer into the ice bucket and stomped back to the bathroom. Griff was just turning off the shower when she got there.

She jerked open the door. As he turned to her and smiled, she screamed, "You son of a b.i.t.c.h! You egg-sucking, lily-livered, low-down, slithering son of a b.i.t.c.h!" and heaved the beer and ice in his face. "If I had a knife, I'd gut you like a fish!"

Dropping the bucket, she ran from the room and slammed the door behind her. If she hadn't been naked as a jaybird, she'd have kept going, but she stopped to grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

"Ca.s.s! Wait!" Griff charged from the bathroom, dripping water and swiping a towel over his face. "What's wrong?" He grabbed her arm.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed it away. "Don't you touch me, you conniving sc.u.mbag." Not bothering with underwear, she yanked on the shorts and tee. "Don't you ever touch me again. Not ever!"

"Honey, whatever's wrong, I'll fix it. Just tell me why you're so upset."

"Walt Zeagler called while you were in the shower. We chatted."

Griff paled.

"Uh-huh." She s.n.a.t.c.hed up her shoes and strode from the room.

"Wait! Ca.s.s! I can explain."

Spinning to face him, she said, "Explain this. Did you come to Austin to talk us into selling Chili Witches?"

He opened and closed his mouth.

"Cat got your tongue?" she asked in a syrupy voice. "You're lower than worm dirt." She wheeled and headed for the front door, grabbing her purse on the way.

"Ca.s.s, please listen to me. It may have started out that way, but I swear to G.o.d, things changed. I love-"

She slammed the front door in his face and ran for the elevator.

He yanked open the door and came after her. "Dammit, Ca.s.s, you've got to listen."

Poking the elevator b.u.t.ton repeatedly, she said, "Go away. My mother was right. She said you were a charlatan! To think that I-we- Oh, gawd! I'm such a gullible fool." She poked the b.u.t.ton again, and the door opened.

She rushed inside. Griff followed.

"You can't come in here," she said. "You're naked!"

"I don't care." He wrapped the towel he held around his waist. "Sweetheart, please listen to me. I told Walt the deal was off, and-"

"I'm not listening to you, dirtbag!" She crammed her feet into her shoes. "I should have listened to my first instincts. I knew I couldn't trust you as far as I could throw you. When will I ever ever learn?" She looped her bag over her head and shoulder. learn?" She looped her bag over her head and shoulder.

The elevator door opened, and she ran for the sidewalk to elude him, and jogged toward home.

Undeterred, he jogged alongside her, barefoot and bare-a.s.sed in downtown Austin, trying to get her to listen to his lousy excuses. She ran faster. "Dammit, Griff, you're naked!"

"I don't care. I love you, Ca.s.s. I want to marry you and live in Austin and have babies!"

Oh, gawd. What if she was pregnant?

She ran faster.

At an intersection, a police car pulled alongside them and blocked the way. The cop got out. "Sir. Stop right there."

The light turned and Ca.s.s shot across the street. She glanced over her shoulder to see Griff being put into the backseat of the patrol car. Her heart did a little flip, but she steeled herself. "Good enough, you slick weasel," she muttered.

In a few minutes she was home, and as she was about to go upstairs, Sunny drove up. Ca.s.s waited for her to get out of her car.

"Ca.s.s, what's wrong?"

"Griffin Mitch.e.l.l is what's wrong. Mom was right. You were right. Everybody was right. He's a conniving son of a b.i.t.c.h! Did you know he's a partner in ZASM?"

"What's ZASM?"

"Walter Zeagler's ZASM, the company trying to buy us out. Zeagler's the Z, and Griff is probably the M. Griff came here to get in our good graces and cajole us into selling this property."

"How did you find out?"

Ca.s.s told Sunny about the phone call and confrontation.

"Oh, dear Lord, Ca.s.s. How terrible. I'm so sorry." She hugged her. "What can I do?"

"Nothing, sis. No, you can keep him away from me. I'm going to lock myself upstairs in my apartment. If I know him, he'll be banging on the door any minute trying to 'explain'-as if he could. I'm not answering the phone or my door, and if he tries to wheedle you into anything, don't fall for it. Send him packing."

"You got it. I'll come up later and use our code to knock."

They hugged again, and Ca.s.s ran upstairs, noticing only then that her shirt was on backward.

LUCKILY, AUSTIN COPS WERE understanding. The one who'd picked up Griff listened with a fairly straight face to his explanation of his attire. Then took him home. understanding. The one who'd picked up Griff listened with a fairly straight face to his explanation of his attire. Then took him home.

Luckily as well, the valet in the garage vouched for him. Unfortunately, when Griff got upstairs he discovered he was locked out of his apartment. After a few choice words, he kicked the door, which didn't bother the door but mangled his toe and hurt like h.e.l.l.

Another trip down the elevator and he located someone with a pa.s.s key to let him in. n.o.body he met on either trip commented on his dress. Maybe they thought he was wearing a bathing suit under the towel.

First thing he did was call Walt and ask him what the h.e.l.l he wanted. No, he wouldn't meet with him in Austin next week, and no, he wouldn't change his mind about anything. He quizzed Walt about what he'd said to Ca.s.s, yelled a few colorful things about his parentage and brain size, and hung up. He'd begun to think months ago that Walt was losing it. No telling what the crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.d would do next. Griff had tried to tell the other partners, but as long as they were making huge profits, they didn't much care.

He'd tried to reason with Walt, showed him research on a dozen other properties, but it was like trying to reason with a gorilla, so Griff had tied up a few loose ends, packed up his office and told them where to stick it.

Somehow, some way, he had to get Ca.s.s to listen to him. He wanted to beat his head against a wall. He got dressed and headed for her apartment.

Her car was in its usual place, so he figured she hadn't gone far. He went upstairs and banged on her door for ten minutes, but she didn't answer. He put his ear to the door and could hear the faint noise of her television, so he a.s.sumed she was there. Next he tried dialing her cell and was able to make out a ring inside. But she didn't answer. It kicked into voice mail.

He sat down on the steps and tried his best to explain things. He told her he'd resigned from the firm, and poured his heart out to her. Over and over he begged her to forgive him and talk to him.

After knocking one more time, he stuck his phone in his pocket and went downstairs to Chili Witches. Maybe Sunny could help.

Wrong.

With her hands on her hips, Ca.s.s's twin glared at him. "You are reprehensible, Griff Mitch.e.l.l. You've broken her heart, and what you've done to my sister, you've done to me. You're not welcome in Chili Witches ever again, and I have friends to enforce that request." She nodded toward a table of cops. "Leave." "Leave."

Griff walked out of Chili Witches, but he couldn't go yet. He went back upstairs and knocked softly on Ca.s.s's door. "Ca.s.s, please talk to me. Just give me five minutes. Please."

Nothing.

He sat down on the steps and tried to think of a way to get to her, short of battering the door down-which would only set off the alarm and cause havoc.

Griff called a florist and offer them a bonus if they would deliver a huge arrangement ASAP.

In twenty minutes, a florist van stopped and a kid got out carrying a big vase of mixed flowers, pretty ones. The kid nodded to Griff as he pa.s.sed him sitting on the stairs. The delivery boy knocked and waited. Knocked and waited. Nothing.