Free The Maverick by Jan Hudson

over her shoulder. “Want to get the door?”
    “ Moi? Surely you jest. Nobody knows I’m here, and I wouldn’t get up and go to the door for the Publisher’s Clearing House prize van.”
    Sunny groaned and heaved herself from the couch. “Whoever it is better not be selling magazines.”
    It was Ben McKee with food his sister had sent over. “I’m not staying,” Cass heard him say. “I know you must be tired, and Jay’s waiting in the car. I’ll call later. Or better, you call me when it’s convenient.”
    Sunny came back with a big bag, which she deposited on the coffee table. “I’ll get plates and forks while I’m up. Check out the contents.”
    Cass was just opening the sack when the doorbell rang again.
    “Your turn,” Sunny called from the kitchen.
    Cass muttered a few choice words and plodded to the door. A deliveryman stood on the porch, a large bag stamped with the logo of her favorite Italian restaurant in each hand.
    “Cassidy Outlaw?” he asked.
    “That’s me.”
    “These are for you from Mr. Mitchell.” He handed her the fancy, handled bags. “No tip necessary. Have a good evening.”
    She closed the door with her butt as Sunny asked, “Who was that?”
    “Another care package. This one from Griff.”
    “Did you invite him in?”
    “The deliveryman? Nope. Not my type. He had a nose ring.”
    “Oh, well, add it to the bounty on the coffee table, and we’ll have a buffet. What do you want to drink?”
    “I think there’s a bottle of wine in one of these bags,” Cass said. “Bring glasses and a corkscrew.”
    Her cell phone rang as she was unloading all the sacks of food. Griff.
    “Hi,” she said. “Thanks for the food. It just arrived.”
    “Good. I wanted to check. I would have delivered it myself, but I doubted you were up to company tonight. I hope you enjoy it. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
    “Not that I can think of, but I appreciate the offer.”
    “I’ll drop by the café tomorrow to see if you need anything. Eat and get a good night’s sleep.”
    “Well, bless his sweet heart,” Cass whispered as she continued laying out the King Ranch chicken casserole and shrimp Portofino and salads and decadent desserts. “How thoughtful. Maybe there are a few decent New York lawyers, after all.”
     
    A S IT TURNED OUT , the tile floors in the bathrooms and kitchen were fine, but those in the serving area and office were a lost cause. Cass and Sunny shopped around and selected a laminate wood floor that looked like old planks and promised to wear like iron. The installers arrived on Thursday to lay down the new surface.
    Their mother and Aunt Min were arriving on the same day. The twins had only a few hours notice to air out the town house their mom and aunt shared a few blocks from the café. They called a maid service to clean and change linens. Sunny stocked the pantry while Cass bought flowers and a couple of plants to brighten up the place, which had been closed for months.
    Cass placed a vase of irises on the hall table and stepped back to admire them. “I wish we could have talked them out of coming,” she said to Sunny. “They were having a wonderful time in France and could have stayed another few weeks at least.”
    “When have we ever been able to talk those two out of anything? They still think of us as their babies.”
    Cass sighed. “I know. They worry. What time is their plane due?”
    “Three o’clock. We’d better get going. They’ll be exhausted, and the time difference is going to be hard on them. I hope they slept some on the plane.”
    “Fat chance.”
    They locked up and headed for the airport.
    “We got another one of those letters today,” Sunny said as they drove.
    “What letters?”
    “The one from the guy in New York offering us an obscene amount of money for Chili Witches and the surrounding property. He upped his offer by ten percent.”
    “You’re kidding. After my reply to his last offer, I certainly didn’t