Mike took a deep drink of his tea. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think that what Greg really wants is for the two of us to move to some remote island and live there all alone.”
Mike didn’t say anything. The first rule of control is to isolate your victim. It looked as though Vandlo had already started to put it into Sara’s pretty head that they would be better off away from people who knew her. It was Mike’s guess that Sara was right and Stefan was purposefully making the people of Edilean dislike him. After he and Sara were married, Mike figured Vandlo would increase the animosity until he got Sara to move away. When they were living among strangers, Sara would meet with a fatal accident, and as her husband, Stefan would inherit whatever she owned.
He didn’t want Sara to see the seriousness in his face. “So what’s for dinner?”
She didn’t hesitate but held up the stack of clothing. “Let’s see … There’s cotton for an appetizer, wool for the main course, and silk for dessert.”
“Sounds perfect. Would you mind if I put a few scallops and asparagus with them?”
“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. But only on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“More tequila.”
Smiling, Mike stood up, picked up her sewing for her, and they began walking back to the house. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll show me your shop. By the way, who’s running it now?”
Sara gave a loud sigh. “Greg hired a woman from D.C. She has a degree in …” She waved her hand. “I don’t know. She wears suits and she’s so brilliant at business that she scares me. I think that when Tess gets back I’m going to sic her on the woman.”
“Are you referring to my baby sister? My sweet-tempered, gentle little Tess?”
“The one and only. Did you ever hear the story about the red dress?”
“I heard it from Tess, but she told it only from her point of view.” Tess had told him that Ramsey, who at that time was her boss, had called her into his office for an evaluation. He had no complaint with the job Tess was doing, but he said she should stop wearing her skin-tight jeans. “After all, this is a place of work,” he’d said pompously. Mike could have told him that ordering Tess not to do something was a guarantee that she’d do it. The next day she’d shown up in a red silk dress so tiny it could have been used as a handkerchief. Since some people he was trying to impress had been there that day, Rams was properly chastised. Never again did Rams complain about anything Tess did.
“Were the men in the office also put into their place?” Mike asked.
“Ha! My cousin Ken wanted to declare a Red Dress Day in Edilean, but his wife vetoed it.”
They were at the door of the house, and Mike held it open for her. As they had yesterday, she sat down at the table while he moved about the kitchen, and Sara glanced down at her phone. The red light wasn’t on.
All day, every time her cell buzzed, her heart had leaped. Maybe it was Greg at last calling her. But it never was. It was either someone in town asking her some asinine question about whether she was going to be in church on Sunday or if she was going to the fair—or whatever he/she could come up with to find out if Greg had called her. Sometimes they asked about the wedding. The planner—whom Sara’d met only once—called to say that she was having trouble getting carnations the exact color of yellow that she, Sara, wanted. Listlessly, Sara’d said that whatever she had would be fine. If it had been left up to Sara, she would have ordered flowering, fragrant herbs and big roses that dropped their petals, and she would have asked her mother’s employees to decorate the church. Sara had grown up around most of them, and she knew they’d love to make garlands and wreaths. But when Sara had suggested that to Greg, he’d said that her mother hated him so much she’d probably fill the church with poison ivy.
By that afternoon, when Mike arrived with a glass of iced tea, Sara was near to tears. There’d been no call from Greg, and he’d not so much as acknowledged her e-mails or texts. Was it over between them but he just hadn’t told her? She’d never felt so alone in her life.
But Mike’s dimpled smile diminished her unhappiness. He too was alone since he knew no one in town—and he didn’t even have a home to return to. When she’d thought of him during the long day, she’d vowed to be nicer to him. Even if Tess and the town had conspired to introduce Mike to her, Sara didn’t think he was part of it.
Last night he’d seemed to be genuinely puzzled by the accusations she’d hurled at him. In fact, today she’d thought of telling him the truth about what was going on. She even thought of telling him about her fears with Greg. It hurt that she had no one to confide in. If she told anyone in Edilean that she was worried that he was dumping her, they’d probably raise a banner of celebration in the town square. But Mike was an outsider, so maybe they could be friends.
“What’s that look for?” Mike asked.
“I’ve just been thinking, that’s all. I’m looking forward to another scrumptious meal.”
“You sound like you’re in a good mood. Something happen?”
“If you’re asking if Greg called, no, he didn’t. But that’s all right. I’m sure he has a reason.”
Mike had to turn away to keep from saying, Yeah, iron bars. He looked back at her. “I didn’t ask if you like scallops.”
“Love them.” Sara watched him move about the kitchen. Like yesterday, he was beautifully dressed. He wore dark slacks of a lightweight wool and a perfectly pressed blue cotton shirt with the sleeves care
fully folded to the elbows. His shoes were polished, and she knew from her retail experience that they had cost several hundred dollars. “Do you always dress like this?”
“Sometimes the only real thing in a person’s life is his body, so I do what I can with it.”
Since his arrival, she’d been too agitated to give much thought to his looks and, now, how she’d described him to Tess rang in her head. When she looked at him, he wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought. Actually, Mike wasn’t exactly short. He was more average height. And her seamstress eyes calculated that he had a waist that was no more than thirty inches. Some of her female customers would kill for a waist as small as his.