“What news?”
She spoke slowly. “The man you know as Ben Arthur is dead. He died last Thursday.”
“What?” Gregg stared at her. “That can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid it is true.”
“And just what do you mean by the man you know as Ben Arthur?”
“His…his name is really Ben March. Benjamin Arthur March.”
“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull—”
“I’m not trying to pull anything,” she cried. “I’m telling you the truth.”
She reached for her handbag and pulled out a wallet. Removing two laminated cards, she handed them to him. They were both Ohio driver’s licenses. Her picture was on the first card. Sabrina Isabel March. An address in Rockwell, Ohio. And Ben’s picture was on the second. Benjamin Arthur March. With another Rockwell address.
Gregg felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. What the hell was going on here?
“Mr. Antonelli…Gregg,” she continued softly, “I’m so sorry.” She sighed deeply. “You asked me how I’m related to…Ben. Ben March is…was…my father.”
“Your father,” he said dully.
“Yes.”
“But—”
“I know, he never said anything about having a daughter. Obviously, there were a lot of things he didn’t tell you.”
Gregg didn’t know what to think. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t he tell us about you? I mean, he told my sister he was divorced. And why use a different name? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. The thing is, when my father met your sister, he wasn’t divorced. He was still married. To my mother.”
As she continued to explain, Gregg learned that Ben had never divorced his wife. That his wife…Sabrina’s mother…still lived. That his marriage to Glynnis was not valid. That Ben was a bigamist.
Gregg was speechless. How was he going to tell Glynnis? It would have been hard enough to tell her Ben was dead, but this! This would kill her. Shock gave way to fury as the truth finally sank in. Damn Ben. Damn his very soul. Glynnis didn’t deserve this. Gregg hoped Ben burned in hell.
“I’m so sorry,” Sabrina said again. “I know how you feel, because I feel the same way. I just couldn’t believe it when I read my dad’s letter.”
“That’s how you found out? Through a letter?” Gregg asked. He didn’t try to disguise his scorn.
“Yes. He’d given the letter to our attorney with instructions to give it to me in the event of his death.”
“How did he die?” At this point, Gregg didn’t really care, but he knew Glynnis would want to know.
“He had a heart attack. We…we were walking in the park in the town where…where we live…and he collapsed. The emergency personnel tried to save him, but it was too late.” Her eyes glistened.
Oh, hell. He hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He had enough to handle right now without a weepy woman on his hands. But though he told himself this, he felt bad. She was as much a victim in this mess as Glynnis was.
Then their food arrived, and they didn’t talk until Chris had finished serving them and walked away. By then she’d gotten herself under control again.
“Does your mother know about this?” Gregg asked.
“No. I haven’t told her yet.” She looked away. “It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ll ever have to do.”
Yeah. He knew exactly what she meant.
She picked up her fork. Speared a tortellini. Then she put the fork down again. “I’m sorry. The food looks wonderful, but I no longer have any appetite.”
“I know.” Gregg’s appetite had gone south, too. “But you need to eat. Come on.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. Is…is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”
“Nothing I can think of right now.”
“Well, if you do think of something…” She reached for her handbag again. This time she withdrew a business card. “That’s where I work. You can call me there anytime. If I’m not in, call my cell phone number.”
After she left, Gregg debated whether to go and see Glynnis immediately or wait until morning to break the news. He decided to wait. He might as well allow his sister to have one more peaceful night before she had to find out the sordid truth.
Besides, he couldn’t face telling her tonight. He hadn’t completely digested the news himself, plus he was tired. It had been a long and busy day.
And Glynnis was going to need him to be strong. Best to get a good night’s sleep himself so he wouldn’t let her down when she needed him most.
Chapter Three
Sabrina couldn’t get Gregg Antonelli out of her mind. She hadn’t expected to like him; she certainly hadn’t expected to sympathize with him, but she had. She did.
He had a terrible job in front of him. It wouldn’t be easy telling his sister what he’d learned. Yet although Sabrina had only met the man tonight, she could tell he was equal to the task. Strength and confidence were written all over him. He was the type of man who would face any crisis head-on. He was also the type of man women gravitated toward.
Sabrina wondered if he was involved with anyone. For some reason, she didn’t think he was married. Why, she couldn’t have said. It was just a feeling she had. Besides, he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. Funny how she’d noticed.
Oh, come on, admit it. You were attracted to him. Of course you noticed.
It was discomfiting to admit it, because under the circumstances, her reaction to Gregg Antonelli was totally inappropriate.
Forget about him, she told herself. He’ll do what he has to do, and you’ll do what you have to do, and you’ll probably never see him again.
Deliberately, she turned her thoughts to her mother and the best way to approach the coming ordeal.
The next morning, Gregg rose early. He showered and shaved, drank his coffee, then picked up the phone. Glynnis was a stay-at-home mother, but she was a morning person, so even though it was only seven-thirty, Gregg knew she’d be up. In this they were alike.
Truth was, in most things they were alike. The only thing noticeably different about them was their appearance. He looked like their father; she resembled their mother. Gregg’s hair was a medium brown. Her hair was a reddish-blond. His eyes were blue, hers were hazel. They were both tall, but there the physical similarity ended.
The surface differences meant nothing, though. They had always been close, always been able to tell what the other was feeling without words.
They’d faced tough stuff before. The death of their parents had been especially difficult. But they’d never faced anything like this. This was the worst.
Quit stalling. He punched in the code for her home. It rang twice.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning.”
“I love this caller ID.”
In the background he could hear the children. “Kids are up already, huh?”
“Oh, yes. Lately they’ve been getting up before seven.”
“Guess