“Sorry. I was told so much gossip this morning that I can’t keep up with it all. By the way, who is Ariel?”
“A distant cousin of mine. According to my mother, she’s the most beautiful, brilliant, talented female ever put on this earth—next to my two perfect sisters, that is.”
Mike looked at her for a moment, then stood up. “It sounds like you’ve had a hard day. Why don’t you come inside and let me cook something for you?” When she hesitated, he said, “It’s what I’ve done with Tess since we were kids.”
It was so nice to have someone smile at her that Sara picked up her sewing and docilely followed him into the house. She sat at the table while he took over the kitchen. He tied a half apron (newly purchased) around his waist and began to rummage in the refrigerator. He emerged with an avocado, sour cream, and a couple of limes. “Talk to me,” he said as he set it all on the countertop and reached for a knife from the wooden holder.
Sara watched him as he moved about the kitchen. He smashed a clove of garlic with the back of the big knife as though he were a professional chef. “I’m sorry about what happened to your apartment.”
Mike gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Hazards of the job.”
“It was burned because of your job?”
Turning, he gave her a little smile. “The last thing I want to do is talk about my work or me. I’d ra
ther hear about you. Aren’t you having a wedding in a few weeks? Is your dress nice?” He was peeling the avocado.
“It’s lovely,” Sara said as she hid her smile in her iced tea. He certainly wasn’t like the men she knew. “It was my great-aunt Lissie’s wedding gown.”
Mike put a bowl of the avocado dip he’d made in front of her, along with another one of tortilla chips. “So when do I get to meet your fiancé?”
He hadn’t taken long to start in on what everyone hassled her about! Sara thought. She was torn between wanting to throw the bowl at him and bursting into tears. But in the next minute he removed a frosty pitcher of margaritas from the refrigerator and poured her a glassful. She drank it in one gulp. He looked at her with wide eyes but quickly poured her another one.
After she’d taken a long sip, he said, “Better?”
Sara nodded and dug into the chips and dip.
“I take it everyone has been asking about him, but you don’t know when he’ll be back, so you have no answer to give them.”
“Exactly,” Sara said, feeling relaxed for the first time since Greg left.
“Maybe he went home,” Mike said as he put slices of pear on salad greens.
“He lives here. With me.”
“No, I mean, maybe he went to the place where his parents live.”
“Oh.”
Mike sprinkled piñon nuts over the salad and drizzled raspberry vinaigrette on top. “Did you call his parents?” he asked as he put the plate in front of her.
Sara mumbled a reply.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear what you said.”
She waited while she chewed a bite of salad. “I don’t know where his parents live—or if they do. He told me about some extremely unpleasant experiences he had while growing up, but he didn’t give me details like names and addresses.”
“Ah,” Mike said as he turned his back to her, and he thought that it was true that Stefan had had some very unpleasant things happen in his childhood. He’d served two years in juvie for stealing a car, six months for attempting to rob a jewelry store, and had been arrested twice for pickpocketing. By the time Stefan was eighteen, he was an experienced criminal and hadn’t been arrested since. “So you don’t know about his family?”
“No! And don’t you start on me too! Everyone has a right to privacy, and besides, I’ve heard enough complaints about him from my mother, from this whole town. I bet you have things you don’t want people to know about.”
“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.” He removed the two Cornish hens he’d ordered that morning and quickly began to stuff them with wild rice and herbs he’d prepared before he went out to see Sara. One of the good things about his life of living undercover was that he’d had to work at a lot of jobs. One of the handiest was the eighteen months he’d spent as a sous chef for a restaurant in Arizona. He could whip out a fajita in ten minutes.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Akron, Ohio.”
“Why does Tess refuse to talk about her childhood?”