The Maverick Part 3
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"Beautiful, isn't it? Sunny and I used to beg to come here all the time when we were little. It seemed very grand to us."
"It is is very grand. And only a little frayed around the edges." very grand. And only a little frayed around the edges."
"There was a move to have the place razed a few years ago. Wouldn't that have been a shame?" Ca.s.s said.
"I'll have to admit that it would have."
They stopped to have a gla.s.s of wine before the show, and after they were served, Griff said, "You've mentioned that your sister's name is Sunny. Is that a nickname?"
"Yes. Her real name is Sundance, but no one has ever called her that."
"What an odd name. Sundance...and Ca.s.sidy? Don't tell me-"
Ca.s.s chuckled. "I'm afraid so. Our father was named Butch Ca.s.sidy Outlaw. His father seemed to think naming his sons after infamous outlaws was a tremendous PR ploy for business or politics or professions in the law. He was Judge John Wesley Hardin Outlaw. Our uncle was a junior, called Wes, and our father was half of the infamous pair played by Paul Newman and Robert Redford in the movie. My uncle Wes became a sheriff, and my father became a state senator, so I suppose my grandfather's idea worked.
"I have several cousins also named after outlaws, and most of them went into law enforcement of one sort or another, and so a tradition was born."
"And you became a lawyer," Griff said.
"I did. And my sister became a cop."
"Were you influenced by family tradition?"
"Hmm. I don't think so. It just seemed to work out that way. Why did you become a lawyer?" Ca.s.s asked.
"Tradition again, I suppose. My father and grandfather were lawyers."
"Interesting, isn't it? That we are-were-both third-generation lawyers."
He raised his gla.s.s. "To tradition."
"To tradition," she echoed, touching her gla.s.s to his.
Suddenly, both gla.s.ses shattered. Crystal shards and wine flew everywhere.
Chapter Four.
"What the-" Griff spun around to see what had happened. A pair of rowdy boys had smashed into them, knocking their gla.s.ses together and breaking them.
The taller of the two looked sheepish and mumbled an apology.
Griff turned back to Ca.s.s. "Are you all right?"
"Just a little wet, I think. I feel a little like a s.h.i.+p being launched." She dabbed at her jacket with a napkin.
"My G.o.d! You have blood on your cheek."
She reached toward her face.
"Wait. Don't touch it. You may have gla.s.s in the cut."
"It can't be too bad. It doesn't hurt."
"I think it should be looked at by a doctor," Griff said.
"Maybe I can help," a woman standing near them offered. "I'm a dermatologist. Come over to where the light's better."
They moved out of the crowd and the doctor looked at Ca.s.s's cheek carefully.
"What do you think?" Griff asked.
"I think she's very lucky that she didn't get that nick in her eye. No major harm done. A dab of antiseptic ointment ought to do. Now the dress, I don't know. Isn't that silk?"
Ca.s.s chuckled. "It is."
"If I were you, I wouldn't let the stain set," the doctor said. She rummaged in her purse. "Ah, here's a sample that will do the trick." She handed Ca.s.s a small tube of ointment.
"Thanks," Ca.s.s said, handing her a Chili Witches card. "Drop by for a complimentary bowl of chili. Tell your waiter Ca.s.s sent you."
"Thanks, I'll do that. I've been there before, and I love your chili. Are you the manager?"
"My sister and I run it for the family."
"Great to meet you. I'm Bev Strong, by the way."
The dermatologist returned to her party, and Griff said, "I think I should call the car and get you home."
"No way. I'm dying to see this show. My cheek will be fine." Ca.s.s held up the tube. "And the dress is only a dress. I'll run to the ladies' room and tend to the damage. Be right back."
Griff watched her walk away, marveling at not only the s.e.xy swing of her hips but also the fact that she hadn't let the accident ruin the evening. Again he thought how different she was from most of the women he dated.
Every time he was around Ca.s.s, he found her more and more intriguing. And more and more tempting. Too often he found himself thinking about her lips and her long legs, and weaving fantasies about both. Instead of charming her as he'd intended, he was discovering that she was the one wielding the flute.
He would have to watch that. Getting seriously involved with one of the princ.i.p.als wasn't part of the plan.
Ca.s.s returned in a short time, and they took their places for the performance. The seats were excellent, as was the show.
When they were leaving the theater, Griff asked, "Want to stop somewhere for a drink and a bite to eat?"
"Sure," Ca.s.s said. "There's a great place just a few blocks from here that you might like. They have a fantastic wine selection and serve Spanish style tapas."
Brad was waiting with the car, and he drove them the few blocks to the spot she'd suggested. Other theatergoers seemed to have the same idea, so the place was filling up, but they found a vacant table in a back corner.
"I adore tapas," Ca.s.s said. "I even like to order from the appetizer menu at regular restaurants so I can have a little bit of everything." She picked up her menu and scanned all the interesting selections. "What are your favorites?"
"Since you're familiar with the house specialties," Griff said, "you choose the food, and I'll pick the wine."
"Fair enough, but you might be sorry. I wasn't kidding when I said I like to try some of everything. I'll limit myself to four dishes. We must have the goat cheese cakes with lavender honey, and the spinach empanadas. Do you like scallops?"
"I like everything except liver and gra.s.shoppers."
Ca.s.s smiled. "You're safe then. I hate liver, too, and I don't see gra.s.shoppers on the menu. We can have the sea scallops wrapped in basil leaves and ham, and either the crawfish cakes or the roasted piquillo peppers."
"Aren't crawfish sort of like gra.s.shoppers?"
"Bite your tongue, Yankee. Crawfish are more like shrimp. We'll have the crawfish cakes. Trust me, they're delicious here. Or maybe you'd rather have some fruit and cheese."
"Get both."
"Don't tempt me," Ca.s.s said. "I warned you that I like some of everything."
"Then order some of everything."
She chuckled. "I'll restrain myself. I doubt if we can make a dent in the ones I mentioned."
"Then we'll take a doggy bag."
"Doggy bag, my foot. We'll take a Ca.s.s container. I don't have a dog. I don't even have a cat, though I've been thinking of getting one. Sunny is always after me to adopt one, and I kind of like cats."
A waiter came and took their order. Griff chose a wine Ca.s.s had never heard of, but she had no doubt it would be excellent. He was that kind of guy. And, as it turned out, the wine was superb.
"Do you have a pet?" Ca.s.s asked him.
"Lord, no. I don't even have a live plant in my apartment. I'm gone so much that it's impractical. If I settle in Austin, I might get a dog. I've wanted one since I was a kid, but my younger brother had allergies, so I had to be content with fish. It's not the same."
"Kind of hard to play fetch with a fish."
He laughed. "True."
"What kind of dog do you want?"
"I'm not sure."
"You need to talk to Sunny or to Skye, my cousin's wife. Sunny volunteers at one of the animal shelters, and she's always looking for good homes for the cats and dogs there. Skye's a veterinarian and a bit fey. She could probably look at you and recommend the perfect pet."
"That sounds interesting."
"She's an interesting lady. All my relatives are interesting. In fact, I'll be seeing several of them on Sunday. We're having a bluebonnet picnic. Maybe you'd like to come along. I'm sure you'd be welcome."
He grinned. "You're eating bluebonnets?"
"Not that I know of. It's sort of an anniversary party and celebration of the bluebonnets for a couple of my first cousins. They had a double wedding in a bluebonnet field before Sunny and I met them last year."
Griff frowned. "You just met your cousins last year?"
"It's a long and complex story. Ah, here's our food. I'm famished."
The table was so filled with the variety of delicacies she'd ordered that Ca.s.s had a difficult time knowing where to start. She reached for a small spinach empanada and took a bite. "Ah, heavenly. Here, taste." She held out the other half, and he ate it from her hand.
"Very good. Are you going to feed me the rest of the meal?"
Smiling, Ca.s.s said. "Nope. Grab your fork. It's every man for himself."
They tasted everything, then chose their favorites. The wine was an ideal complement.
"Tell me about your long-lost cousins," Griff said as he helped himself to another scallop.
"Well, they weren't exactly lost. Sunny and I knew about them, but they didn't know about us. We were, as they used to say, born on the wrong side of the blanket." When Griff looked puzzled, she said, "We were illegitimate. Our father was married to someone else when we were conceived, and he died before we were born. To give him credit, he loved my mother deeply, but his wife wouldn't consent to a divorce. Someone shot him on the steps of the capitol before he could convince her to let him go."
"Shot him? Who?"
Ca.s.s shrugged. "n.o.body knows. His murder was never solved. Anyhow, my mother thought the Outlaw family would consider us an embarra.s.sment, so we never met any of them, and none of the Outlaws knew about us until Sam Ba.s.s Outlaw, one of my cousins who's a Texas Ranger, came into Chili Witches a few months ago. Since then, we've become great friends. Seems that none of them cared much for Iris, the Senator's wife, and she remarried and moved to Ohio or Iowa or somewhere years ago."
"Fascinating."
"Isn't it? Sounds like a soap opera or something. There was never any secret about who our father was, but Mom conveniently neglected to mention that they weren't married. We stumbled on that bit of information ourselves. Mom is going to be mortified to know we've met all our Outlaw relatives and love them."
"She doesn't know you've met them?"
"Nope. And she and Aunt Min will be arriving from France in a few weeks, and the you-know-what's going to hit the fan. Are you going to eat that last crawfish cake?"
"Want to flip for it?"
She laughed. "See, I told you crawfish was good."
"I bow to your good judgment."
They ordered more crawfish cakes and another bottle of wine, and talked about everything in the world. When the waiter began to hover and Ca.s.s noticed that the bar was almost empty, she glanced at her watch.
"Dear Lord! Look at the time! It's two in the morning, and I have to work tomorrow."
"Two? I can't believe it." Griff motioned for the check and handed the waiter his credit card. "Sorry I've been so thoughtless. Let's get you home and into bed."
Ca.s.s lifted her brows at him, and he gave her an innocent look. "No double entendre intended." Then he spoiled his comment with a wolfish grin.
She laughed and gathered her purse. Griff was the most fascinating man she'd met in ages, and she could go swimming in those eyes of his. Was the giddiness she felt from the wine or his charm? Remember he's a New York lawyer, Remember he's a New York lawyer, she reminded herself, she reminded herself, and he studied Charm 101 at Harvard. and he studied Charm 101 at Harvard.
Still, despite her own admonitions, a s.h.i.+ver went up her spine when he touched his hand to her back as they left. The man was another heartbreaker, but her hormones didn't seem to care. If she was smart, she'd drop him like a hot rock. Now.
But instead of thinking of ways to discourage him, all her mind could conjure up were visions of silk sheets and a hot mouth.
The Maverick Part 3
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The Maverick Part 3 summary
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