Erica sighed.“It’s nearly one o’clock.She was going to meet me for lunch, and she’s thirty minutes late.She’s never late, you know.”
Casey frowned.That much was true.Gran had a thing about being tardy.
“It’s probably all his fault,” Erica said.
“All whose fault?”Casey asked.
“Your husband…the family chauffeur…however you choose to define him.He took Grandmother shopping hours ago and no one’s seen a sign of them since.”The tone of Erica’s voice rose an octave.“We don’t know a thing about him.I can’t believe you actually brought a stranger into this household, shoved him down our throats and then expected us to accept his presence as status quo.”
Casey stifled a sigh.This was all she needed.
“Look, Erica.Nothing has happened to Gran.If it had, Ryder would have called.He is not a fiend.Besides, why didn’t you call her instead of me?There’s a phone in the Lincoln.”
“I know that,” Erica snapped.“But no one’s answering.”Casey looked at the stacks of files on her desk and wondered how her grandfather had gone so wrong.She was beating her head against a thousand brick walls and all Erica had to worry about was a late luncheon date.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Casey said.“I’m sure she’s fine.I’m sorry she’s late.”
The connection between them was broken when Erica slammed the receiver back into the cradle.For a few wonderful moments, all Casey could hear were muffled voices from the outer office.With a dogged determination of which Delaney Ruban would have been proud, Casey dropped the gift into a drawer and buzzed Nola Sue.
“Cancel my lunch with Rosewell and Associates.Reschedule for sometime next week.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nola Sue said, making notations as she listened to Casey’s orders.“Do you want me to order you something to eat?”
“I suppose,” she said.“And call home.Tell them I’ll be working late and not to hold dinner.”
Within seconds, she’d forgotten about Lash Marlow’s present and Erica’s phone call.Her entire focus was on the figures before her and the study she would need before she could make an offer for the acquisition of the Harmon Canneries near Tupelo.
A short while later, Nola Sue set a small, plastic tub of chicken salad, a cold roll, and a melting cup of iced tea on the corner of Casey’s desk and tiptoed out without uttering a word.
It was sometime later before Casey even noticed that lunch had been served.
* * *
“Want some ketchup on those fries?”Ryder asked.Eudora poked the lingering end of a fast-food French fry into her mouth and then shook her head.Seconds later, Ryder handed her a fistful of paper napkins.
“Thank you,” she said.
When she was certain Ryder’s attention was otherwise occupied, she licked the salt from her fingers before drying them on the paper napkins he’d tossed in her lap, then leaned back against the seat, sighing with satisfaction.
She couldn’t remember the last time food had tasted this good.Stifling a small belch, she lifted her cup to her lips and latched onto the straw poking through the plastic lid, sucking with all her might.A couple of swallows later, she began to suck air.
“How about another cherry limeade?”
“No, but thank you,” Eudora said, and tossed a used napkin on the floor next to the wrapper that had been around her cheeseburger.
The food had been delicious.She wasn’t going to think about the fact that it had all been served in recycled paper.There was something about reusing paper—in any form or fashion—that smacked of poverty.Eudora Deathridge had not suffered a day of want in her entire life, and had no intentions of starting now.She belched again, then sighed.This had been worth her impending heartburn.
Ryder hid a grin.He’d given her hell this morning and knew it.From the time they’d entered the first store, to the last one they’d exited just before lunch, he’d been on her heels at every turn.
He had been nothing but respectful.It wasn’t in him to be anything else.But he figured the ‘family’ needed to know right off that while he didn’t mind driving them all over kingdom come, he was going to do it his way.And if that meant making himself a slight nuisance, then so be it.He was the best when it came to being a pain in the ass.If they didn’t believe him, then they could just ask his…
Oh, God.He’d done it again.Micah’s name kept hovering at the edge of his mind, popping out when least expected.He hated being weak, but guilt was eating him alive.No longer hungry, he began stuffing his leftovers back into the sack they’d come in.
“Here you go, Dora.”He handed the half-filled sack over the seat.
Surprised by the gesture, she took it before she thought, letting it dangle between her fingers like something foul.
“What am I to do with this?”
