Horrified, Cass watched Griff’s eyes widen, but he didn’t say a word.

“Mother!” Cass grabbed a handful of napkins.

“Oh, dear merciful heavens, Mr. Griffith, I’m so sorry. Don’t move. I’ll get some towels. Jeff! Bring towels!” she shouted over her shoulder.

With the yelling, customers who’d missed the original catastrophe added their stares to the others who were gawking at the beer dripping from Griff’s lap onto the floor.

“Oh, Mr. Griffith, can you ever forgive me? Sometimes my arthritis acts up, and I get so clumsy.”

“What arthritis?” Cass said. “You don’t have arthritis.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. O’Connor,” Griff said. “Accidents happen. My mom has arthritis, and sometimes her hands bother her, as well.”

“Well, bless your heart, Mr. Griffith. Aren’t you the sweetest thing. Here, Jeff’s brought some towels. Let me help you clean up.” She began dabbing at his lap.

“I think I can handle it,” he said, looking pained as he grabbed the towels from Gloria.

If Cass hadn’t been so ticked off at her mother, she would have laughed. “Let’s go upstairs to my apartment, Griff, and you can shower. I’ll wash your clothes and put them in the drier.”

It was her mother’s turn to look horrified. Good enough for her.

Griff nodded and tried to dry off as best he could. When he rose, he laughed and said loudly enough for all the gawkers to hear, “Sorry about the interruption, everybody. Dessert is on me.” He glanced down at his lap. “As is my beer.”

Everybody laughed along with him.

“Mother,” Cass muttered between clenched teeth. “We’ll talk later.”

She and Griff hurried out the back way and up to her apartment.

“Griff, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into my mom. This isn’t like her.”

“Don’t worry, honey. Accidents happen.” He stripped off his clothes and handed them to her.

“You know and I know that what happened was no accident. Why would Mom do such a thing? I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. For some reason she doesn’t like me, and she’s a lioness protecting her cub. Give me some time. I’ll bring her around.” He gave Cass a peck on the nose. “Would you get my gym bag from the car?”

“Sure. And I’ll call downstairs and have our food delivered up here.”

“Mind if we skip the chili tonight? I’ve lost my taste for chili and beer.”

GRIFF DECIDED TO GO back to his condo and leave Cass to her work. She wondered if it wasn’t merely a polite kiss-off. No, he was sincere, she told herself, when he’d said it would take more than a little beer to get rid of him for good.

He might be polite and forgiving, but Cass was royally pissed at her mother, and she stomped downstairs to confront her. Aunt Min saw her come in, and hurried to meet her.

“Oh, Cass, I’m so sorry about what happened. Did Griff leave?”

“Naturally. Were you a part of the floor show?”

“Absolutely not! I was in the kitchen.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Hiding in the office. Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry.” Cass wheeled and strode to the office.

Her mother was sitting behind the desk, her head in her hands. She didn’t look up when Cass slammed the door. “Why, Mom? Why? And don’t feed me any bull about accidents or arthritis or poor memory.”

When Gloria looked up, her eyes were red-rimmed and teary. “I—I don’t want you to get hurt, Cass. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. I don’t trust him. I never have. From the first moment I met him, I knew he was up to something. Something deceptive. He’s using you for his own purposes. Mark my words, the man’s a charlatan.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “And what are you? Psychic?”

Her mother took a deep breath and stared directly into Cass’s eyes.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”

Cass knees gave way and she plopped down in a chair. “Since when?”

“Since as long as I can remember. I screamed and fainted the moment your father was shot. Ask Min. I’d been uneasy for several days before it happened. I get feelings.”

“And you’re never wrong?”

“Rarely. I’m not wrong about this.”

“But, Mom, Sam Outlaw checked him out. He’s clean.”

“And exactly why did Sam, a Texas Ranger, check him out?”

Cass squirmed. “Bad vibes? I don’t know.”

“I’ll bet Sam didn’t trust him, either.”

“Perhaps not, but I trust him, Mom. I love Griff.”

“Oh, dear God!”

“Mom, cut the dramatics.”

“Will you promise me, promise me sincerely that you’ll find out more about him before you do something foolish?”

Cass wondered what her mother considered foolish. She’d already done everything except elope with him. “If it will ease you mind, Mom, I promise.”

“Oh, thank you, dear. Thank you.” She hurried from behind the desk and bent over to hug Cass. “Do it right away. I’ve been having such bad feelings.” She kissed Cass’s forehead and held her close in the comforting and protective way she’d always done.

“I will, Mom.”

CASS SAT IN FRONT OF her computer for the longest time, indecision eating her from the inside out. Did she trust Griff or not? She’d trusted Daniel, and look where it got her. Her father had told her to follow her heart, but then he was a ghost, and she’d promised her mother, who was flesh and blood.

Oh, hell and damnation! It was a simple matter to type his name into the search engine. Checking the Internet was no big deal. It was a wonder she hadn’t done it sooner.

G-r-i-f-f-i-n M-i-t-c-h-e-l-l

She punched “Search,” closed her eyes and waited.

All kinds of Griffin Mitchells popped up, including a sixteen-year-old in Anaheim who was on Facebook, and one who had died recently in Alabama. The only ones she found for her Griffin Mitchell were innocuous mentions of information she already knew about.

Her shoulders slumped in relief. Should she take it further?

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Cass picked up her cell and punched in Maddie Evert’s number.

When her friend and former colleague answered, she said, “Hey, Maddie, this is Cass. How are things in the Big Apple?” They yakked for a few minutes before Cass jumped in. “I have a big favor to ask. I know you went to Harvard. Did you happen to know a Griffin Mitchell? I’m not sure of the year he was there, but I’d guess he was ahead of you.”

Maddie didn’t know him, but suggested her older brother or cousin might. Both were Harvard educated lawyers in New York.

“Would you check around for me and find out anything you can about him? Confidentially, please. It’s, uh, business, and I want to know who I’m up against.”

Maddie agreed to ask around and call back when she heard something.

When Cass hung up, she felt slightly dirty.

More than slightly.

She took a deep breath and tried to let it go.

Looking through the stack of business mail she needed to answer, she couldn’t believe they’d received another letter from Walter Zeagler, the guy in New York who was so hot to buy the Chili Witches tract. Slicing it open, she was a bit surprised that not only had her last response not discouraged him, but he was requesting a meeting with them the following week. Why was ZASM Consulting so interested in their property?

Although she was certain what they would say, Cass set the letter aside to discuss with the family, and turned to other correspondence. She stopped only to have a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk, and by eleven she was finished and fell into bed.

But she couldn’t sleep. Her sheets smelled of Griff.

She ran her fingers over the spot where he had slept, and hugged his pillow close, breathing in the tantalizing scent of him. She loved him so. Her mother couldn’t be right about him. She just couldn’t.

A small voice inside her seemed to whisper, “He loves you, truly loves you.”

She had to believe that.

TOWARD THE TAIL END of rush hour, Cass looked up from the register to see Griff by the front door talking to Aunt Min. He held three smallish boxes tied with red ribbons, and she watched him present one to Min with a big smile. Cass looked around for her mother, but she must have been in the kitchen or office.

“Hi there,” Cass said, walking toward him.

“Hello yourself. I got a yen for some chili.” He handed her a box.

“He gave me one, too,” Aunt Min said, holding open a box of chocolate-covered strawberries and smiling brightly. “Aren’t they scrumptious looking?”

“Where’s your mom?” Griff asked. “I have one for her as well.”

“I’ll go see if I can locate her,” Min said. “You can seat Griff.”

When her aunt left, he said, “At least she got my name right.”

“Aunt Min is a dear.” Cass motioned to a small table by the window. “Want a beer?”

“After last night, I’m not sure I’ll ever want another beer. Do you have time to join me?”

“I’ll take a few minutes. We’re not too busy.”

They had a quiet lunch, but Gloria never showed her face. After Griff left, Cass took the other box and tracked her mother down in the office. “Griff brought this for you.”

“Oh, thank you, dear.” She set the box on the desk without even peeking inside.

Later, after Min and Gloria had left for the day, the box still sat on the desk.

Cass sighed. What a mess. She was too old to play Juliet.

AFTER SHE CLOSED, Cass again found Griff waiting for her on the steps to her apartment. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was lonely. Pack a bag and come with me. I’ve bought bubble bath and more massage oil. I’ll rub your feet. And we’ll spend all day tomorrow feeding each other bananas and grapes.”

“Bananas and grapes?”

“Somebody has to eat all the fruit I bought. And I’ll cook you the steak I promised.”

Cass had to consider for only half a second. She tossed some things in an overnighter and they were off.

“Do you like Marcia Ball?” he asked.

“I adore Marcia Ball. She’s won blues awards out the kazoo.”

“Good. I heard phenomenal things about her and got tickets to her show at someplace called Antone’s tomorrow night.”

“Great. Antone’s is a nightclub on Fifth Street.”

When they arrived at his building, Griff carried her bag upstairs. “Want a glass of wine while I fix your bath?”

“I’d love a glass 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 glasses 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.”

Cass 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 soufflé 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.

Cass 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. “Cass, you’re one of a kind. And how I love you!”