The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,6
eyebrows. “So don’t mess with Texas women?”
Cass grinned. “You got it, Yankee. Now I’ll get off my soapbox. Thanks for helping me this afternoon. May I drop you at your hotel?”
“I was hoping you might show me around some of charming Austin this afternoon,” Griff said as she locked up.
She glanced at her watch. “I have time for a drive through Zilker Park, but I have an appointment coming up.”
“I noticed that there was an interesting production at the Paramount Theater this weekend. Would you like to go with me tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to go, but I work on Saturdays,” Cass said. “We don’t close until ten or ten-thirty. Sorry.”
“I know it’s short notice, but could you make it tonight if I can get tickets?”
“Good luck with that,” Cass said. “I hear it’s sold out.”
He grinned. “Never underestimate my ability to get what I want.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “I wouldn’t dare.”
GRIFF HAD TO CALL IN a couple of favors, and ended up paying a scalper an exorbitant price, but he got two tickets in the orchestra, fifth row center, for that night’s performance at the theater on Congress Street. He’d have paid twice the amount. Not only was it a sop to his ego, but he wanted to impress Cass. He found that he genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company. She was the most interesting and engaging woman he’d met in a very long time.
As soon as the tickets were assured, he called the cell phone number she’d given him and told her the show was a go.
“Wonderful!” she said. “Now I have someplace to show off my new pedicure. My toes are absolutely ravishing.”
He laughed. “Your appointment was for a pedicure?”
“Along with a haircut. Do you think it was fate?”
“Undoubtedly. The performance starts at eight. Shall we have dinner beforehand or a late supper?”
“I’m not a late supper kind of gal,” Cass said, “and I’m going to be pushed to get home and dress. Why don’t you order something nice from room service, and I’ll have a bite at home? We can have drinks at the theater. Shall I pick you up?”
“No, I have a car at my disposal. I’ll pick you up. Seven?”
“Seven is great. Just come up the stairs off the parking lot behind the café. I’m apartment B. And Griff, remember that Austin is supercasual. People will be in everything from shorts and flip-flops to dress clothes. Feel free to go without a tie.”
“My mother would disown me. She was from Dallas.”
“Ahh,” Cass said. “Enough said. Dallas has always been much more fashion conscious than Austin.”
When he picked up Cass later, he would have debated Austinites’ fashion sense. She looked stunning in a blue dress and a floaty, flowered jacket. The high heeled sandals she wore were little more than thin straps to show off her newly painted pink toenails, but he’d been around women enough to know that she hadn’t gotten them at Wal-Mart.
“You look lovely,” he told her. “I like your toes.”
She laughed and wiggled them. “Terribly Pink.”
“Yes, they are.”
“The color is Terribly Pink.”
“Ahh. Excuse my faux pas.”
Downstairs, he helped her into the backseat of the chauffeured Town Car he’d hired for the evening.
“How very impressive,” Cass said when they were settled.
“That was the idea,” he said, winking. “This smells much better than most taxis. And it’s more comfortable. I was hoping you would appreciate it.”
“I do. I do.” To the driver she said, “Hi, Brad. How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” he responded as he pulled away.
“How’s Barbara?” she asked.
“Great. She’s pregnant.”
“How wonderful! This is your first, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. We’re excited.”
“You know our driver?” Griff asked.
“Sure. Brad’s wife, Barbara, used to work at Chili Witches when they were in college and before they started their car and limo service. Austin has grown over the years, but basically we’re still like a small town.”
“You’ve convinced me.”
“Actually, the theater’s not far from here,” Cass said. “Walking distance if I’d worn more sensible shoes.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. I rather like those. Jimmy Choo?”
“Prada,” she said. “How on earth do you know about Jimmy Choo?”
“You caught me.” He laughed. “I confess I watched a couple of episodes of Sex and the City to see what all the fuss was about. I discovered it wasn’t a guy thing, but I do recall Jimmy Choo as being a coveted kind of shoe. I seem to remember Prada as being in the same category.”
A few minutes later they