The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,5
healer.”
He motioned to his bowl. “This really is very good. You ought to consider packaging and marketing it.”
“We’re looking into the possibility. Think they would buy it in… You know, I don’t think you’ve mentioned where you’re from.”
“I grew up on Long Island. And I’m sure at least one person there would buy it. My mother. She’s a Texas girl.”
“Really? So you’re not a total foreigner.” Cass checked her watch. Karen would kill her if she didn’t get there to help. “Griff, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay longer. I have to get to my task.” She stood.
He stood as well and peeled a twenty from the wad in his money clip, tossing it on the table. “I’ll go with you. You could probably use an extra pair of hands, and I’m not bad at stuffing envelopes.”
Chapter Three
“See, I told you it would all come back to me,” Griff said as he licked another envelope from his stack. He’d shed his coat and tie rolled up his shirtsleeves and dived in.
“I’m proud of you,” Cass said. “How long since you’ve actually stuffed any mail?”
“In bulk? Must have been in college, or maybe in law school when I was working on some campaign or another.”
“Where did you go to law school?”
“Harvard.”
“Of course,” Cass said. “Why did I even ask?”
“And you?”
“University of Texas, here in Austin. I was too poor for Harvard or Yale, and I got an excellent education here.”
“I’m sure you did,” Griff said. “UT Law has a fine reputation. Too bad you’re not using your education.”
Cass’s hackles went up. “Oh, but I am. My education doesn’t define me. It enriches me.”
“Sorry. That was insensitive. You’re right, of course.”
“Are you being condescending?”
He smiled and held up his hands in surrender. “With a tough Texas woman? I wouldn’t dare. I’m done with my stack. Are there more?”
“That’s all,” Cass said. “Karen will stamp them in the morning when she comes in, and deliver them to the post office.”
Griff picked up one of the envelopes and looked at the return address. “Exactly what is POAC?”
“Didn’t you read one of the letters?” Cass asked.
“Nope, I simply stuffed and licked.”
She chuckled. “You could have spent the last two hours aiding and abetting a subversive organization. Lawyers are supposed to read the fine print.”
“I trusted you wouldn’t get us thrown in the slammer. Let’s see. POAC. Please Order Another Chili. People on a Caper. Pick Out a Cucumber.”
Cass laughed. “How about Preserve Old Austin’s Charm? We pronounce the acronym ‘poe-ack.’ We’re sort of a watchdog group to help preserve the flavor of our town so that its charm doesn’t get paved over by cookie cutter high-rises and such.”
“Ah, like the taco place and the hotel.”
“Exactly. We’re not extremists opposed to progress and modernization, but we want to keep the old along with the new. Austin has made a half-dozen lists recently as one of the best places in the country to live, and we’ve had a big influx of people. Sometimes it seems as if, after they arrive, they want to start changing the very things that drew them here, to make Austin into Anywhere, USA.”
“You sound very passionate about this,” Griff said.
“I am. I love this town. I love the bakeries and shoe shops and little taco joints that have been downtown for fifty or a hundred years.”
“And the chili cafés?”
Cass gave a bark of laughter. “You bet. But Chili Witches wasn’t always a café. It started out as a saloon and bawdy house.”
He chuckled. “You’re kidding.”
“I kid you not. The madam’s name was Selma Newton, and she was a real rounder. Upstairs, where my apartment is, used to be rooms where the soiled doves entertained the town swells.”
“You live over the restaurant?”
“Temporarily. Until I can get this place fixed up,” she said.
“Which place? Here?” he asked, looking around the living room of the run-down house where they’d come to work.
“Yes. When I’m finished it will be a charming cottage again, and in a prime location. The architecture is unique, and while they may not qualify as landmarks when this block is restored all the houses will be lovely. Can you believe they wanted to tear down these houses and put up another five-story apartment building? And you should have seen the design!”
“Bad, huh?”
“Atrocious!” Cass said, making a face.
“And POAC stopped it?”
“Not single-handedly. Several groups and individuals joined together, lobbied for the preservation of the neighborhood and bought the properties.”
“And you bought this house?”
“I did. And the one next door, as well.”
Griff lifted his