“Remember I told you about my divorce?” she asks.

I nod.

“Well, my ex is suing me for alimony.”

“Alimony? Do you have kids?”

She shakes her head.

“Then how can he ask for alimony?”

“Apparently, he can. I heard his lawyer is excellent at impossible claims, so—”

“I’ll make some phone calls. We’ll fix this,” Ethan says and puts his hand on hers.

The side of Ethan that’s capable of such feelings is not something I can easily imagine. However, he does write love stories for a living. Come think of it, I’m not sure that’s relevant; thriller writers are not murderers in real life. The truth is, Ethan is a bit of an unknown to me.

“I might have just the thing to take your mind off it. Earlier today I was sent two tickets for a show tomorrow morning. In the city,” he says to Celine. “An off-Broadway premiere.”

“An obligation,” she says and stares at him.

“Yes, sort of, but it might be fun.”

“Appreciate the thought, but musicals are not my thing. Anyway, I have to work, Ethan.”

“I can hold the fort at Café Azure,” I offer. “I think you’d enjoy it. I went to a few, back in New York, and they were pretty good,” I say.

“Why don’t you go then, Maya? You’ll probably appreciate it much more than I would. And truth be told, the thing that’s keeping my mind off things is work.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean—”

Ethan looks at me. “That’s a great idea and you’d be doing me a huge favor. It was a last-minute thing that I have to go to, and I don’t know if I’d survive it alone.”

I’d be doing him a favor. That means he will owe me. Oh my, how the tables have turned.

“It’ll be painless. And I can be quiet all the way there.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Or talk all the time. Whatever you wish.”

Celine starts laughing. “That’s how he talks me into all sorts of things. Remember when we ran from home because you wanted to learn how to ride a horse?”

He chuckles. “And wasn’t it fun?”

“It was. Until we got caught.”

“I didn’t know there were shows in the morning. Except for kids’ stuff,” I say to him.

“Me neither,” he says. “It’s a closed-door, early premiere for a small group. I think.”

“Do I need to wear anything fancy?”

He smiled. “As long as it’s not flip-flops, you’re good.”

“Converse it is,” I say and laugh.

Forty-Three

When we get back to the cottage, I call Alisa, who texted me before lunch.

“Are you awake?” I ask.

“I am. The question is what are you doing up? It’s what? One in the morning?”

“Just came back from dinner.”

“I have a feeling Mr. Butler is part of the story. Oh, and by the way, your research skills are not what they used to be, Miss Journalist. Ethan Delphy is not married anymore.”