The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,61
to stick it.
Somehow, some way, he had to get Cass to listen to him. He wanted to beat his head against a wall. He got dressed and headed for her apartment.
Her car was in its usual place, so he figured she hadn’t gone far. He went upstairs and banged on her door for ten minutes, but she didn’t answer. He put his ear to the door and could hear the faint noise of her television, so he assumed she was there. Next he tried dialing her cell and was able to make out a ring inside. But she didn’t answer. It kicked into voice mail.
He sat down on the steps and tried his best to explain things. He told her he’d resigned from the firm, and poured his heart out to her. Over and over he begged her to forgive him and talk to him.
After knocking one more time, he stuck his phone in his pocket and went downstairs to Chili Witches. Maybe Sunny could help.
Wrong.
With her hands on her hips, Cass’s twin glared at him. “You are reprehensible, Griff Mitchell. You’ve broken her heart, and what you’ve done to my sister, you’ve done to me. You’re not welcome in Chili Witches ever again, and I have friends to enforce that request.” She nodded toward a table of cops. “Leave.”
Griff walked out of Chili Witches, but he couldn’t go yet. He went back upstairs and knocked softly on Cass’s door. “Cass, please talk to me. Just give me five minutes. Please.”
Nothing.
He sat down on the steps and tried to think of a way to get to her, short of battering the door down—which would only set off the alarm and cause havoc.
Griff called a florist and offer them a bonus if they would deliver a huge arrangement ASAP.
In twenty minutes, a florist van stopped and a kid got out carrying a big vase of mixed flowers, pretty ones. The kid nodded to Griff as he passed him sitting on the stairs. The delivery boy knocked and waited. Knocked and waited. Nothing.
“Mister,” the kid said. “Do you know the lady who lives here?
Griff nodded.
“Would you give these to her, please?”
“Just leave them by the door,” Griff said.
“I don’t know…” the kid looked at the sky. “It might rain.”
“Leave them.”
He shrugged, set them by the door and hurried down the stairs to his van. Griff watched and waited. The door didn’t open, and the flowers seemed to mock him.
For the next five hours, two of them in the rain, he sat on the stairs, alternately phoning and knocking until his battery ran out of juice and his shoes were full of water. Temporarily conceding defeat, he sloshed to his car and went home.
He gave the Marcia Ball tickets to the valet, went upstairs and took a hot shower, and tried to think of a better strategy.
THE ENTIRE TIME GRIFF pounded on her door, Cass had been sitting on her couch eating Cheerios from a box and watching old movies. And crying. Initially, her anger had fueled her, but in the end, grief overtook her and drained her dry.
She’d heard him go, listened as he plodded down the stairs in the rain, watched out the window as his car left the lot. Only when she was sure he’d gone did she open the door and peek out. The poor flowers were getting pounded by the rain. She took them in and set them in the kitchen sink to perk back up.
The bouquet might recover, but she wondered if she ever would.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cass didn’t sleep much, and she dreamed awful things she couldn’t remember, but kept waking her up when she dozed off. She finally got up, took a couple of aspirin and put cold compresses on her swollen eyes. Nothing had ever hurt her so deeply as this. Daniel’s betrayal was nothing compared to Griff’s.
Mostly, she realized, because she hadn’t loved Daniel so much.
Well, she refused to waste any more tears over Griff and his devious ways. She was determined to gut up and go on. Today was a workday for her.
Her phone rang. He was starting early. She removed the compress to look at the caller ID. Sunny.
“Good morning, sis,” Cass said in her cheeriest voice. “How are you today?”
“The question is, Cass, how are you?”
“I’m fine. Just fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. You’re croaking like a frog.”
“Must have been all the yelling I did yesterday.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sunny said. “I know you must feel like crap. How about I work for you today?”
“No.