Once Upon A New York Minute: Part 1

by Sherry Ficklin

  “Alright. Let me know what we can do. You know we are both here for you.”

  “I know, thanks. I’ll come by tomorrow. One way or another, I’ll have this handled.”

  Ending the call, I tap my chin with the phone before tossing it on the table.

  “Alright, Haven. I arranged for you to meet with Aiden, but it has to be now. Are you ready?” Tommy says, peeking around the corner. I stand, closing the computer. “I am. Where’s Sarah?”

  “She’s organizing your press conference for tomorrow. It would probably help if we knew what you were going to say,” he hints as I follow him out the back of the manor to a waiting car.

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out,” I tell him.

  He holds his hands out, handing me a brown wig and sunglasses. “Put these on, just in case.”

  Obeying, I twist my hair up and bend forward, settling the wig onto my head. He helps me adjust it and I slide on the glasses.

  “I’m going with you. If anyone sees us, hopefully they will just think you’re Sarah.”

  We get in the back of the car and speed toward the palace. Rounding the normal drive, we pull up to the delivery door at the back of the kitchen. Security is waiting and ushers me through to an elevator in the rear of the building.

  Inside, Kato stands stoic.

  “Hey Kato,” I say stepping in and leaving the other guards behind.

  “Lady Haven.” He says, his tone flat. I chew at my lip nervously. It’s one thing when no one knows you, but it’s another when people hate you.

  The doors open and I’m surprised to find myself in the back of Aiden’s closet. He’s waiting for me, and when I step forward, he opens his arms. I run into them, and he holds me, not speaking for a long moment.

  “Aiden, I’m so sorry,” I begin in a rush.

  He captures my lips with his, kissing me soundly before pulling away. Reaching up I pull off the wig and glasses, shaking my red hair free.

  “No, Haven. I’m sorry. I knew that proposing would make you a target. I had no idea how far Genevieve would go…no idea what she’d put you through.”

  “I should have told you the truth from the beginning,” I counter, stepping out of his embrace. “Now I’ve humiliated us both. I never should have let you propose.”

  He grabs my hands, pulling me close once more, then tilts my chin upward with one finger. “Don’t ever say that. You are by far the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  I sigh, “I feel the same way.”

  “Then,” he leads me across the room, “none of this matters. I’m not going to let Genevieve or the council or anyone else keep us apart. Not ever.”

  I dig in my heels. “It’s not a made-up story,” I admit. “It’s true, all of it. Aiden, I can’t…my past is something I thought I could escape, but it’s not. I realize that now. And I can’t let it drag us both down.”

  “I don’t care,” he says flatly. “I don’t care about your past mistakes, Haven. All I care about is our future together.”

  He leads me again across the room to his desk, sliding a paper across it to me. It’s all scrolly and official looking and as I read, I realize what he means.

  “You’re abdicating?” I say, frowning up at him. “Aiden you can’t.”

  “If the council won’t agree to our wedding, then this is my choice. I can’t be without you, Haven. I won’t.”

  “Your country needs you, Aiden, your people need you. You can’t let the council take that away. Not for me.”

  Crossing the room, he sits on the edge of his bed, motioning for me to join him. “Haven, I know they need me. But I need you. I can’t do any of this without you. I know it sounds terribly selfish but, I’ve always been resigned to the sort of life I was going to have. I always knew I’d have to marry for political reasons. I knew I’d have to shoulder the burden of the crown on my own. And I knew that my only joy would come at the brief moments when I felt I was doing something good for others. I was willing to devote my life to that. I didn’t know how much more was possible—how much happiness and warmth I could have in my life, until I met you. And even then, I couldn’t imagine I could keep you. I convinced myself that the memory of you would be enough, that it would sustain me. But having you here, in my arms, at my side, I can’t give that up. And I don’t know what kind of man—much less King—I’d be if I did.”

  He kisses me again, this time cupping the side of my face in his hand. He smells like saltwater and sunshine and warm summer days. I let myself melt against him, the lines between us blurring as I wrap my arms around his neck and he lays me back against the bed gently.

  “Tell me, Haven. Would you still want me? If I gave all this up and had nothing to offer you but myself? Would you still be my wife?” his eyes are dark and desperate, searching my face for any hint of indecision.

  “You know I would,” I say, letting the truth of my fords fill my voice. “I loved out before I knew you were a prince, before you were a king, and if it all went away tomorrow, I’d love just the same.”

  He lowers himself onto me and I sigh contentedly. He doesn’t care about my past, and I don’t care about his future. Only that’s not true. I love him too much not to care—too much to let him sacrifice everything for me.

  But the fact that he’d be willing to, the fact that he’d run away with me right now if I asked him to, is enough.

  We move together, an urgency in our touch, our clothes lost in the haze of our lovemaking. Finally weak and spent, I curl into this arms.

  “I’m addressing the council and the press tomorrow,” I tell him. “I want you there too, but I also don’t. Is that awful?”

  “Why don’t you want me there?” he asks, his tone more curious than angry.

  I take a deep breath, “Because I’m going to have to come clean about some things—hard things. I’ve spent so long running away, Aiden, so long trying to hide from what I did. But I can’t hide anymore.”

  He kisses my chin, my collar bone.

  “You never have to hide from me,” he swears.

  “It’s not just you I’ve been hiding from,” I admit. “But it has to be over now.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” he says, propping himself on one arm. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself on the altar of Onah-Napor, not for the Council—not for me.”

  I untangle myself from him, redressing slowly. “Yes I do.” Crossing the room, I pick up the abdication paper and tear it in half twice.

  “Haven,” he says, sitting up fully.

  Holding up one hand, I stop him from continuing. “No, I’m not letting you abdicate. I’m just not. No matter what. If I say what I have to say and the council still won’t let us get married, then we will figure out some other way to be together. I don’t care about being queen, Aiden. I never did. I just want you.” My mind goes back to the offer Genevieve had made. And while it was a deal I’d never make with her, if Sarah were queen, I might be willing. “It might not be conventional, but we will figure out something. I’m not leaving and I’m done hiding. The truth is the only card I have left to play.”

  “I understand,” he says after a moment. “Do you want me there? Would it be easier if I wasn’t?”

  I think about that for a second. “I want you there. I’m stronger when you’re around, braver. And you should know the whole truth besides. If after I say my peace, if you don’t want to marry me anymore, I’ll understand.”

  He opens his mouth to protest, but I hold up my hand again. “Don’t say anything else. If you say anything else, I might lose my nerve, and I need to go get ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You could stay,” he offers.

  Smiling, I shake my head, “I want to, but I shouldn’t. Do me one favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “I left your ring in my room downstairs. Will you bring it tomorrow? If you still want me after…just put it on my hand again then, ok?”

  “I will.”

  Wi
th that said, I pick up my wig and glasses and make my way back to the secret elevator.

  The Whole Truth

  After spending the night at Norwood manor, I slip into a borrowed suit dress Sarah lends me from her closet. It’s cornflower blue and the jacket buttons at the chest. I put my hair in a simple half-up do, keeping my makeup light. I didn’t sleep much, between digging up photos and practicing my speech. My stomach aches, protesting the morning’s coffee and toast—the only thing I dared eat for fear it would come right back up again. I’ve never been so nervous, never felt so sick. No, that’s not true, I realize, remembering a day not long after that hideous mug shot had been taken.

  Giving myself a once over in the bathroom mirror, I make my way to the foyer to meet Sarah and Tommy. To my surprise, Liam is there too, in a simple black suit.

  “What’s the occasion?” I ask, eyeing him with one raised eyebrow.

  He grinds his teeth before answering. “I’m coming with you. We’re friends, after all—at least as far as anyone knows. I’m technically part of house Mac Gregor. So I’m coming with you.”

  “We are friends, Liam. You know that. But you don’t have to do this,” I offer. “I know you’re angry—and you have every right to be. You’ve done so much for me, you all have. I should have at least told you about my past.”

  He scratches his head, “You didn’t, and I never asked. I didn’t think it would matter. And it still doesn’t. Not to me, at any rate. I just hope this doesn’t keep you from getting what you deserve.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You deserve to be happy, Haven. You deserve to ride off into the sunset with your knight in shining armor.” His expression changes, his fists balling at his sides, his eyes darkening, “And I’m not going to let Genevieve or anyone else take that away from you.”

  “Liam, you should know that whatever happens, I’m not leaving. They may be able to keep me from marrying Aiden, but they can’t decide my future. I won’t let them. I told Aiden last night, I’m not going to roll over and let them steal my happiness. Whatever happens, Aiden is going to be king, and I’m going to sit on the council. Everything else, I’ll find a way to get what I want. I always do.”

  “You spoke to him last night?” he asks, his tone soft. “Did he tell you his plan?”

  I nod. “I tore up the paperwork.”

  “You know he can just sign another document,” he says, rolling his eyes.

  “It was symbolic,” I say, my hands going to my hips. “I’m not letting him give up his birthright for me. Besides, this is my cross to bear—not his.”

  He holds out a hand to me and I take it. “Well, you don’t have to bear it alone.”

  “Yeah,” Tommy chimes in.

  Honestly, I’d forgotten he was even there. “Thanks, Tommy.”

  “Are you certain you don’t want to practice your speech before we go?” Sarah asks. “I can give you feedback and suggestions?”

  Shaking my head, I take a deep breath. “No, I don’t want it to sound rehearsed. It needs to be honest and from the heart. Besides, I only want to have to say it once. That’ll be hard enough.”

  “Alright,” she says. “Then we should go.”

  ***

  The council chamber is even more crowded than yesterday, this time the addition of news cameras and journalists in the back of the room make the already small space feel hot and stifling. Liam sits with me at the House MacGregor table, his eyes searching the room. Someone from the back passes forward today’s newspaper, my mug shot splashed across the front page.

  King swindled by American fraud, the headline reads. I scan the article quickly, and realize how little of the truth they have. It says that I was arrested, and the charges, but no other details on the case. My hands shake as I pass the paper to Liam, who immediately sets it aside.

  Just before eight, Aiden strides in, taking a position in the corner of the room, not greeting the council as he enters. He sits in a high-backed chair, crossing his legs with a patient, if strained expression.

  The bell chimes and the doors close. The Prime Minister calling us to order. Opening the floor to new business, Duke Rathborne stands first.

  “Yesterday, King Aiden announced his intention to wed Lady Haven Sully, and asked for the council’s approval. While the criteria for becoming queen has changed, my—our—duty to this nation has not. As we have recently discovered, Lady Haven not only harbors a criminal record in the United States, but is in face a fraud, a con woman of the lowest moral caliber, who will bring shame on our monarch and out nation. House Rathborne cannot support such a person’s candidacy for Queen, and must move that the council reject the King’s selection. We must above all else, preserve the honor of the monarchy and the security of Onah-Napor.”

  He sits and a chorus of voices fill the chamber, melding together into a murmur of agreement. Cameras click away behind me as he takes his seat.

  Pushing my chair back, I stand. The room goes silent, my heart pounding angrily in my chest as I struggle to remain calm, to fight back the waves of heat washing over me beneath their heavy glares. The Prime Minister raises a hand, motioning toward me.

  “The Council recognizes Lady Sully of House MacGregor.”

  “Thank you,” I manage, clearing my throat. Taking my laptop, I walk to the podium and plug it into the screen behind me, facing the council and the press who stare at me in disapproval. My eyes slide to Aiden for only the briefest moment, and he gives me a gentle nod of support. I take a deep breath before beginning, focusing my thoughts. “It is true that events from my past have recently come to the forefront, and I understand your concerns. I do not take them, or the accusations of my unfitness to be queen, lightly. It is true I am American. It is true that I have been here only a short time. Because of this, you—the council as well as the people of this great nation—do not know me—or my moral character which Duke Rathborne has called into question here today. I would like to rectify that, as well as address the accusations which have been made by the media recently.”

  Opening my file in front of me, I continue. The first image behind me is a baby picture—the only one I have--of my birth parents holding me in the hospital. “I was born in Nebraska, in a small town outside of Lincoln. My father was a dentist, my mother a photographer. When I was very young, they died in a car accident.” Hitting a button, I bring up their obituary and flash it onto the screen. “Having no other family to care for me, I was placed in the foster care system and was adopted alongside two other girls by family in Kansas, and it was there that I grew up.”

  Another button and I put up a photo of myself and my sisters opening gifts one Christmas around a brightly lit tree.

  “They were good people, broom corn farmers unable to have children of their own, and they loved us very much. But the farm life felt too small for me, and when I turned eighteen, I was released from foster care and moved to New York to attend school. There I studied computer science.” The next photo is one of my sisters and I outside the campus dorm, hefting stacks of books. “I’d always been good with computers and programming, and I soon found a job working for a man named James Meyer. He owned a small startup in the city specializing in creating applications for social media. Mr. Meyer had a reputation of being a fair boss and good man. I had no reason to suspect otherwise.

  A few months into my employment, he called me to his office and asked me to design a code that he could use to access user data—a virus, if you will—that would give him access to the personal data of all the users on his application. His reasoning was that he wanted to be able to customize the application to the user based on their personal preferences, search habits, and even location.”

  Stopping, I shift from foot to foot. “To clarify, such a thing is illegal. I was aware of it at the time and I chose to ignore that fact. When I turned over the code, I knew what it was capable of. What I gave James Meyer was nothing less than a window into the private lives of any user on his system. I kne
w that I had broken the law, but again, I believed him to be a good man with good intentions, and that’s how I justified it to myself at the time.”

  I pause, taking a deep breath.

  “It may seem like a small thing, but anyone who has ever been harassed, stalked, or the victim of identity theft can tell you that it is not. It was those personal—human—consequences that I failed to take into account, and that is, perhaps, the worst crime I committed. I failed—in the moment—to understand how my actions would effect other people.”

  Balling my hands into fists, I squeeze until my fingernails bite into my skin before continuing. “One night, I was auditing the application when I found a secret cache of data hidden on the company server. Not only was Meyer using the software I designed to access the personal data of thousands of clients, but he was also using it to collect private photos, account information, and locations of several female users in the city. At that point, I understood for the first time the gravity of what I’d done. I understood the reality of the people I’d allowed him to hurt. And so, I did the only thing my conscience would allow, I took the evidence directly to the police and turned myself in. I told them everything, handed over all the evidence I possessed. I was arrested for internet fraud and conspiracy—as I knew I would be. It seemed like a small price to pay for the harm I’d caused.”

  I hit a button and my mug shot comes to the screen behind me. “I spent two days in jail before the police were able to examine the evidence I’d given them. At that time, they offered to drop the charges against me in exchange for my testimony against Meyer. I agreed, and was released, and they never pressed charges against me for my crime or for my part in the harm that Meyer caused, nor do I have a criminal record as I have been accused today. That, however, does not make me innocent of this crime, nor does it in any way lessen my participation in what Meyer did—that is a guilt I carry, and will carry the rest of my days.

  By turning myself in I was able to work with the police to protect those people who had been harmed, and to try to prevent Meyer from hurting anyone else again. Upon being served a warrant for his arrest, Meyer fled from police and disappeared. A few weeks later, I was walking home from a night job I’d taken to make ends meet when he grabbed me and pulled me into in a dark alley.”