Chapter 3
Mark was just approaching the freeway off-ramp when his cell phone rang again. He’d just disconnected the last call. He adjusted his earpiece.
“Mark Stevens.”
“Don’t you have caller ID, baby?” His mother’s Alabama-accented voice said in his ear.
“I’m driving. Hey, Mama.”
“I thought you’d be in your office. Are you going to a hearing?”
Mark steered the car off the ramp. “No, have another appointment. What’s up, Mama?”
“I want you to come by for dinner Saturday.”
He frowned. “This Saturday? I can’t. I’m going to a client’s dinner party.”
She sighed. “All right then, a week from Saturday.”
“All right, Mama. That should be fine.” A bad thought occurred to him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Mama, you aren’t planning on inviting Mrs. Piedmont’s grandson again, are you?”
“No
