me to keep Gracie and Cooper with me?”
“That would be nice. That way I can sneak out, and Cooper won’t go ballistic. The A/C in my truck has to be fixed, and I don’t like leaving them while I’m gone. Like I said, Coop chews anything in sight, so watch him. They’ll know when I get back. Well, come on, Oliver, here is your first lesson in running a kitchen. Remember now, these plates are throwaways.”
Ten minutes later, Julie’s kitchen seminar was over. With an airy wave of her hand, she was gone, shoulder bag in place and a string shopping bag in one hand.
Mace Carlisle looked around the blue-and-white kitchen in a daze. He fixed his gaze on the dishwasher, which was as alien to him as a spaceship. It took him a good fifteen minutes to position everything to his satisfaction. He dropped in some orange squares, which said on the box that the dishes and pots would come out shiny bright if this product was used. Julie hadn’t said anything about cleaning off the counters and the mess of drippings on the griddle. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that part went along with the job. He went to work, but not before he turned up the volume on the television, where they were selling Birkenstock sandals for $59.95 a pair. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that might be a tremendous bargain compared to buying them in New York.
Mace fell to his task, soaped up a sponge, and went to work. When he was done, the kitchen glistened. He was congratulating himself on a job well done when all three dogs bellied through the doggie door. Cooper again howled his displeasure when he realized Julie was nowhere to be seen. Gracie swatted him with her paw, and he quieted down. Lola watched these antics and let loose with a bark of her own as she nudged Mace’s leg.
“Okay, let’s go!” Mace felt like the Pied Piper as he led the three dogs out the door and down the steps and the mini platforms and across the yard to the cottage. Inside, he handed out chew bones he’d found on the counter. Now he had peace and quiet. Not that he didn’t like the commotion—he did—but he needed to concentrate on the phone call he was going to make to Oliver.
He talked for over an hour on his untraceable phone. The first ten minutes of the phone call were devoted to the news and his current problems, the other fifty minutes were spent talking about Julie Wyatt and the dogs and his new rental, where he was wearing someone else’s clothes and loving it. He went into great detail, even laughing at how he’d cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. Mace listened to his friend, then said, “I want you to do something for me, and this is important, Oliver. I don’t want any screwups, and I don’t want it coming back on me in any way. Just take care of it for me, and I’d like the offer to go out today. Pull every string you have to get it done. By the way, I have to tell you, this lady can cook !” He listened to his attorney for another five minutes, then powered down.
Satisfied that there was nothing else for him to do, Mace picked up his laptop and a book he’d found on the bookshelf and started to read last evening. A page-turner; not that he was any authority on political thrillers, but he did like the intricate plotting on the one hand and the author’s direct style on the other. He knew that if he stayed long enough, he would read more books by this author, of which there were a number on the shelf. He carried the book along with the hot pot of coffee out to the deck in the backyard, where he settled himself in a bright yellow Adirondack chair. He went back into the cottage to bring out a bowl of water, which he set down on the deck. The dogs started to romp and tussle with each other until Cooper spotted a squirrel, and off they went.
Mace read for well over two hours, eventually dozing in the shade a large oak created over the small deck. The dogs, exhausted, curled up at his feet.
While the life he’d left behind in New
“That would be nice. That way I can sneak out, and Cooper won’t go ballistic. The A/C in my truck has to be fixed, and I don’t like leaving them while I’m gone. Like I said, Coop chews anything in sight, so watch him. They’ll know when I get back. Well, come on, Oliver, here is your first lesson in running a kitchen. Remember now, these plates are throwaways.”
Ten minutes later, Julie’s kitchen seminar was over. With an airy wave of her hand, she was gone, shoulder bag in place and a string shopping bag in one hand.
Mace Carlisle looked around the blue-and-white kitchen in a daze. He fixed his gaze on the dishwasher, which was as alien to him as a spaceship. It took him a good fifteen minutes to position everything to his satisfaction. He dropped in some orange squares, which said on the box that the dishes and pots would come out shiny bright if this product was used. Julie hadn’t said anything about cleaning off the counters and the mess of drippings on the griddle. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that part went along with the job. He went to work, but not before he turned up the volume on the television, where they were selling Birkenstock sandals for $59.95 a pair. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that might be a tremendous bargain compared to buying them in New York.
Mace fell to his task, soaped up a sponge, and went to work. When he was done, the kitchen glistened. He was congratulating himself on a job well done when all three dogs bellied through the doggie door. Cooper again howled his displeasure when he realized Julie was nowhere to be seen. Gracie swatted him with her paw, and he quieted down. Lola watched these antics and let loose with a bark of her own as she nudged Mace’s leg.
“Okay, let’s go!” Mace felt like the Pied Piper as he led the three dogs out the door and down the steps and the mini platforms and across the yard to the cottage. Inside, he handed out chew bones he’d found on the counter. Now he had peace and quiet. Not that he didn’t like the commotion—he did—but he needed to concentrate on the phone call he was going to make to Oliver.
He talked for over an hour on his untraceable phone. The first ten minutes of the phone call were devoted to the news and his current problems, the other fifty minutes were spent talking about Julie Wyatt and the dogs and his new rental, where he was wearing someone else’s clothes and loving it. He went into great detail, even laughing at how he’d cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. Mace listened to his friend, then said, “I want you to do something for me, and this is important, Oliver. I don’t want any screwups, and I don’t want it coming back on me in any way. Just take care of it for me, and I’d like the offer to go out today. Pull every string you have to get it done. By the way, I have to tell you, this lady can cook !” He listened to his attorney for another five minutes, then powered down.
Satisfied that there was nothing else for him to do, Mace picked up his laptop and a book he’d found on the bookshelf and started to read last evening. A page-turner; not that he was any authority on political thrillers, but he did like the intricate plotting on the one hand and the author’s direct style on the other. He knew that if he stayed long enough, he would read more books by this author, of which there were a number on the shelf. He carried the book along with the hot pot of coffee out to the deck in the backyard, where he settled himself in a bright yellow Adirondack chair. He went back into the cottage to bring out a bowl of water, which he set down on the deck. The dogs started to romp and tussle with each other until Cooper spotted a squirrel, and off they went.
Mace read for well over two hours, eventually dozing in the shade a large oak created over the small deck. The dogs, exhausted, curled up at his feet.
While the life he’d left behind in New
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