Griff was not married. Cass refused to allow herself to even consider such a possibility. For the rest of the day, when the thought would pop into her head, she immediately quashed it and busied herself with some task or other—which wasn’t hard to do. They’d had a bang-up business for dinner as well. Even the food editor at one of the papers stopped by to see how things were going, and promised a mention in her column. Free publicity was always a help, though if business got much better, Cass didn’t know where she would put people.

When her cell phone rang at about nine-thirty and she saw who was calling, Cass was conflicted. Part of her was thrilled that Griff was calling; another part of her was distressed. She was going to have to ask.

Walking to her office for privacy, she said, “Hello, Griff. How’s the Big Apple?”

“Noisy and fast. I’ve been spoiled lately. My blood pressure is already up ten points. Or twenty. How was your first day back?”

“Hectic. Scads of customers. Griff?”

“Yes?”

“I have to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Promise you won’t be offended.”

“Sounds ominous. I promise.”

She hesitated. Gutsy as she ordinarily was, it was a question she didn’t want to ask. Maybe she really didn’t want to hear the answer—or at least one of the possible answers. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Griff, are you married?”

When he stopped laughing, he said, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“No, babe, I’m not married. Never have been. I’ve proposed to only one person in my life, and that was Lisa Davenport when we were in the second grade.”

“Did she accept?”

“As I recall, she punched me in the stomach and ran away.”

“How terrible.”

“I thought so. Scarred me for life.” He chuckled. “Why did you ask me if I was married?”

“Someone once told me men over thirty-five who aren’t married are either gay or rejects. I know you aren’t gay, and I can’t imagine you being anybody’s reject, so that leaves being married.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Remember Lisa.”

Cass could hear the amusement in his voice and felt like an idiot for asking. “You are over thirty-five, aren’t you?”

“I am.” He rattled off his birthday to verify his age.

“You have a birthday coming up next month.”

“I do,” he said. “Are you going to bake a cake for me?”

“Probably not, but I know a wonderful bakery that makes fantastic birthday cakes. When are you coming back to Austin?”

“I’m not sure. I have several meetings set up. It might be the weekend before I get back. Will you miss me?”

“Of course I will,” Cass said. “I’ve grown very used to your company.”

They soon said good-night, and Cass began her customary closing procedure. Talking with Griff had given her a warm glow, and she smiled as she stashed the day’s take in the big office safe. Either she or Sunny would deposit the cash and checks in the bank the next day.

By the time she’d set the alarm and locked up, she was bushed. Twelve-and fourteen-hour days were a bitch. What a treat it would be to fall in bed and sleep late the following morning.

Unfortunately, her sleep was restless, and the contractor called her at seven-thirty the next morning. She agreed to meet him at the POAC office in an hour to discuss renovations. Even though she had to drag herself to the shower, stinging water and excitement about the project soon perked her up, and she hurriedly dressed and drove to the site.

The contractor, Greg Gonzales, was waiting for her, clipboard in hand. She and Sunny and Greg had gone to high school together, and he had an excellent reputation for building and remodeling. He was as handsome as ever. In fact, she’d had a major crush on him when she’d been a sophomore, but he was a senior and interested in dating older girls.

“Hey, Greg,” she called, getting out of her car. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

He grinned. “Nope. I just got here, and I’ve been looking at some of the other houses in the neighborhood. Some are looking good, others not so good.”

“I know. As I told you, those of us who bought houses on this street are committed to restoring them to either live in, rent or sell. I plan to live in this one and rent the other, and the sooner I can get them renovated, the sooner I’ll get a return on my money.”

“I did some work on the house across the street a few years ago, and these houses all seem to be basically sound. They have good bones. Mostly they just need some repairs here and there, some updating and a lot of paint. Let’s walk through your properties so you can tell me what you want.”

They went through POAC headquarters first, discussing the changes she wanted in each room, especially the kitchen and bathrooms. Greg examined every nook and cranny and made copious notes. They did the same for the house next door.

“I think you made a good buy here,” Greg said. “With your proximity to downtown, and with the other houses on the street being renovated, your property will be worth double or triple what you paid for it when it’s fixed up. I’ll get back to you with estimates in a day or two.”

“Great, Greg. If we agree on price, when can you start?”

“Right away. My crew is finishing a big job now. Say, I notice the house down at the end of the street is for sale by the owner, and looks like it could use some work as well. Know anything about it?”

“I do. It recently came on the market. A friend of ours bought the house and moved in, planning to renovate a little at a time, but he’s been transferred to Pittsburgh. You interested?”

“I might be…if the price was right.” He winked. “It might be a good investment—and I could give you a better deal if my crew is working on three houses right here together.”

“I’ll call you with Oscar’s number.”

“Don’t bother. I can get it off the sign.”

“Mention my name,” Cass said.

“Count on it.”

After Greg left, she wandered around the yard, with its scraggly bushes and weedy lawn, and felt real envy for Sunny’s well-kept lawn and garden. Cass could almost imagine a chamois-colored cottage with black shutters, white trim and a red door. The porch and steps would be updated and big pots of geraniums or marigolds would flank the doorway. The lush buffalo grass lawn would set off the flagstone walkway and native plants would complement the lines of the house.

She smiled and sighed. Her very own place.

What color would she paint the house next door? Maybe a pale yellow or a sage-green. Or dove gray with maroon-and-white trim. It was fun thinking about it, but she didn’t want to get too carried away. She had some money left over from the killing she’d made when she sold her Manhattan condo, and she’d saved quite a bit since she’d been home, but she’d have to be careful with costs. She didn’t have an endless supply of money to squander, and she didn’t want to overdo for the neighborhood.

Still smiling, she headed off to the paint and flooring stores for samples. She’d also need to scout around for appliances and get an idea of what she wanted—and what her budget could stand. Someone had told her there was a fantastic warehouse on Burnet Road with great deals on close-out items and stuff with tiny scratches or dents not even noticeable. And she had to think about cabinet styles and hardware and light fixtures and a thousand other details.

Her days off were going to be plenty busy. Maybe it was a good thing Griff would be in New York for the next little while.

Or not.

WHEN CASS STOPPED BY Chili Witches midafternoon, Sunny eyed her bulging tote. “What’s that?”

“Samples.”

“Are you in training for a door-to-door job?”

Cass laughed. “Nope. I’m finally starting on my house. I met with Greg Gonzales this morning for estimates. These are paint samples and floor samples and brochures and catalogs I have to pore over. Do you know how hard it is to choose between daffodil and sunbeam?”

“Colors, I presume? Want a glass of tea?”

“I’d be forever in your debt, sis. Thanks.”

Sunny poured two glasses and led Cass to a table.

Cass took a sip of tea. “Ahhh. Perfect. Where are Mom and Aunt Min?”

“I think they were going to a movie with some friends. I told them not to come in tonight. I can manage.”

“Want me to go to the bank?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind. Do you have a date with Griff tonight?”

“No, he’s back in New York.”

Sunny looked stunned. “For good?”

“Not according to him. He has a few days business there. Meetings, he said. He plans to be back in Austin by the weekend.”

“Don’t forget our meeting with Carrie Sunday morning,” Sunny said.

“I haven’t forgotten. Wonder what she wants?”

“Beats me.”

“Guess who came in for a late lunch yesterday?” Cass asked.

“I already know. Sam. Mom told me. I think she and Aunt Min fell in love with him.”

Cass took another big swallow of tea. “Did she also tell you how much he looks like our father?”

Sunny shook her head. “She neglected to mention that little fact.”

“Hmm. I thought her eyes were going to pop out when she first spotted him. He already had an advantage before he turned on the charm—and he turned it on full blast. You could have bottled it and sold it for clover honey.”

“I think Mom is actually considering meeting other members of the family.”

“Fantastic,” Cass said.

“I’m not sure she’s ready for the whole mob at once, but maybe one of us could take her and Aunt Min down to Wimberley sometime and have lunch with Belle and Flora. Maybe visit Flora’s art gallery.”

“Good idea. Perhaps we turned down Belle’s invitation for Sunday too soon. I think the only ones coming from Naconiche are Frank and Carrie. Want me to call Belle and reinvite ourselves?”

“No. Something tells me to leave it as is.”

“Okay by me.” Cass drank the last of her tea and stood. “Let’s get the bank bag, and I’ll be off.”

CASS STARED AT THE color swatches taped to her bedroom wall, trying to decide which tones would be best for her living room. To get some ideas, she’d watched several episodes on HGTV. Several of the decorators were painting rooms gray or some shade of purple. She wasn’t a fan of either color.

Maybe she should hire a decorator to help her. Trying to make so many decisions made her brain hurt. It was so much easier if you had a yellow wall to begin with and had to find things that would coordinate, rather than decide the color of the wall so you could find things to coordinate with it. She wanted to scream in frustration.

Luckily, she was saved from a meltdown when the phone rang.

“Hey, gorgeous, what are you doing?” Griff asked.

“I’m about to have a screaming hissy fit.”

“Sounds serious,” he said. “What’s up?”

She told him about the houses and her frustration with color chips. “It’s running me crazy, and I’ve barely started.”

“Why don’t you hire a decorator?”

“I considered it, but not for long. I love decorating.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Cass, that doesn’t compute.”

She chuckled. “My frustration will pass, and once I get some basic selections, everything else will be easy. What’s all that noise?”

“I’m at the airport.”

Her heart sped up. “Are you on your way back to Austin?”

“I wish,” he said. “I’m on my way to Miami. I have some business there I must take care of. I’m not sure how long it will take. Hopefully, only a day or two. It may be the first of the week before I can return to Austin. Cass, I have to go. My flight’s being called. I’ll try to get back with you tomorrow or Friday for sure. Love you. Bye.”

Cass sat there, stunned, listening to dead air.