“Never met him.” Ariel bit into a piece of heavily buttered bread.
“It’s my guess that you remember every word you’ve ever heard about Sara. Right?”
Ariel smiled. “You got me there. His name is Brian Tolworthy, and he’s an archaeologist. Just like in some fairy tale, Sara went to Williamsburg and came home with a gorgeous Englishman. And of course he was to inherit the obligatory Big House and a fortune with it. Sara would have been Lady Tolworthy. I remember the name because when I came home at Christmas it’s all my mother could talk about. I was entering med school, but all she wanted was for me to get married and have babies like perfect little Sara was going to do. Sorry. Sara Shaw is a sore point with me.”
“So why didn’t she marry him?”
“This town is saying that Tess and Luke conspired to get you and Sara together. Is that true?”
“This town talks too much. Why didn’t Sara marry the English guy?”
Ariel’s face cha
nged to more serious. “I wasn’t here, but my mother wrote me that he received a call in the middle of the night. Someone said his parents had been killed in a car crash. Sara drove him to the airport and—” Ariel shrugged. “I heard that she never saw him again. My mother wrote me a couple of months later that Sara had received a letter saying he was marrying his childhood sweetheart back in England.” She looked at him. “If you’re living with Sara, why aren’t you asking her about all this?”
Mike was experienced at ignoring questions he didn’t want to answer. “So then what happened?”
“What happens to all the Princess Saras of the world? Another man showed up right away.”
“Anders.”
“Yeah. Greg Anders.” Ariel gave a little smile. “Do you know him?”
“Never met him, but I’ve heard a lot about him.”
“He likes to cause problems.” Her smile broadened and she gave a little laugh under her breath.
“It sounds like you know him.”
“Every half-decent-looking woman in this town—who isn’t likely to tell Sara, that is—has had an encounter with him. My brother Colin told me that Sara couldn’t be getting much in bed in the last few months because he’s been too busy jumping on Erica at the store—and with two of his clients. He seems to like older women.”
Mike thought about what he’d read in the files. Stefan’s marriage was one of those arranged deals so favored by his family. When he was sixteen, he was married off to a thirty-four-year-old widow. Stefan’s son was now eighteen and his daughter seventeen—and he had a stepson born the same year he was. But for all the age discrepancy, the marriage had worked. Everyone knew that Stefan genuinely loved his wife, who was a year older than his mother, but that didn’t make him stay faithful to her. And, yes, their records showed that Stefan liked older women for his many affairs.
Ariel looked down at her plate for a moment. “I can’t imagine how I must sound to you, but those old school yard rivalries die hard. In high school I had to work night and day to be included with the other kids. I was on the cheerleading squad and I put the yearbook together. You name it, I did it. But you know who won Best Liked? Sara. I don’t think she had even one extracurricular activity.”
Ariel was quiet for a moment. “So do you plan to take her away from Anders then go back to … Where is it you live?”
“South Florida.”
“So you two will live in a condo on a beach and deal with hurricanes every summer?”
“Only people who don’t live there worry about hurricanes.”
“That was a good nonanswer.”
“And the best one I have. You ready to go?”
“In a hurry to get back to Sara?”
Mike started to make a noncommital reply, but instead, the truth came out. “Yes.”
“I envy her.”
Mike paid, and they left the restaurant. Mike made sure Ariel got into her car safely, then he called Tess and asked her to find out anything she could about Brian Tolworthy of England.
“Can I send him hate mail?”
“You knew him?”