“Of course. I let Jack lead in everything. Did you know that he likes motorcycles?”
“Does he know that you also like them?”
“Not yet. I have to go. Oh, I nearly forgot. Jack said to tell you that Tate is going out to dinner with us tonight, so you don’t have to cook for him. And, Casey, thanks for letting us go with you to get the props. It’s really difficult to go anywhere with Jack. People constantly want to talk to him about his movies. We have to hide, and poor Tate is a prisoner. He spent today alone in his house. He said he didn’t want to cause anyone any problems.”
“Or maybe he didn’t want to be around us,” Casey said under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She was looking at the food bubbling away on the stove. It would have been nice if she’d been told earlier that she wasn’t cooking dinner. “I’ll see you at seven tomorrow morning. Okay?”
“We’ll be there. And thanks again.”
Casey put down her phone and looked at the food. Tenderloin with a red-wine glaze. She’d finish cooking it, then store it for tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be as good. She planned to tell Tate Landers what she thought of his lack of consideration in not informing her earlier that he—
“Hello,” came a tentative voice from outside her door.
It was Devlin, and she smiled. “Come in. You wouldn’t like something to eat, would you? I’ve been left with a full dinner and no one to share it with.”
“Stay for your cooking? Yes! Definitely. If it were nails on a bed of rocks and you had cooked it, I’d eat it.”
Laughing, she unlatched the door for him.
“I feel bad about leaving last night so I brought you something.” He handed her a small package prettily wrapped in white paper with a silver ribbon. “I hope it’s all right. It’s not anything new, but it did belong to my grandmother.”
She opened the gift and took out an antique tin chocolate mold. It was about the size of her hand, in two pieces, hinged on one side, with a handsome rooster in the middle. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Really lovely.” She looked at him. “But if this is something from your family, I can’t take it.”
He stepped away. “That’s okay. The woman I love isn’t interested in cooking, so…” He shrugged.
“Do you mean Tate’s sister, Nina?”
“Right!” Devlin’s eyes were wide. “Don’t tell me he told you about her? If he talked about his family to you, then he must think very highly of you.”
“Not at all.” She opened the oven door to pull out a tray of crisp wafers of G
orgonzola and ground piñon nuts and slid them onto a cooling rack. “Help yourself. I can’t save these for tomorrow.”
“Got stood up, did you?”
“I did,” Casey said. “If you want a drink, everything’s in that cabinet.”
“How about if I make you a gin and tonic?”
“Love it.” She tended to the pots on the stove.
Minutes later, Devlin handed her an icy cold, perfectly made drink.
“Thank you.”
“I need to explain about last night,” he said. “Tate came by, and I’m ashamed to say that I turned coward and ran away. It wasn’t very manly of me. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I understand. But I think you should explain to Olivia what happened. She found me sleeping on the couch and didn’t like it.”
“Now I am very sorry! After all the therapy I’ve had, I’m still scared of what that man can do to me. I just want my daughter and…” He trailed off. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my life. Can I help you do something? Mash potatoes, maybe? I’m no cook like Tate is, but I can beat the heck out of spuds—if they’re soft, that is.”
She turned to him. “I didn’t know he could cook.”
“Didn’t you know that Tate Landers can do anything? He can act, he can cook, he can memorize lines at one reading. Hell! He can even sing. The rest of us mortals don’t have half his talents.”