Once Upon A New York Minute: Part 1

by Sherry Ficklin

  He nods, “That seems fair, and because it is a once annual bonus, it wouldn’t encourage others to leave their current ranches to come to yours, because the wages would be the same, with bonuses not guaranteed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll implement it immediately, it will be a nice boon for them as we come into winter months.”

  He also offers some advice on other investments of my personal income and helps me work through all the necessary paperwork to set up the accounts.

  “Now, who will be the beneficiary of the MacGregor trust should you pass away?”

  “Does it have to be my husband?”

  He shakes his head, “In this case, I wouldn’t recommend it. If you pass away with no other heir, and the king claims the trust, it would be folded into the existing crown lands and the house dissolved. The same if your child becomes monarch and inherits the land.”

  I chew my lip. “Liam MacGregor, he’ll be my beneficiary. If anything happens to me, the House trust and all its lands and income go to him.”

  “Of course. You’ll also receive a monthly allowance from the crown once you become Queen.”

  “I get paid to be Queen?”

  He nods again. “We can set those funds to go to this account or set up an individual account which is not part of the house trust but for your private use only.”

  “Let’s do that. I’d like to not have to dip into the trust if I don’t have to.”

  Finances set up, I climb back in the car with Tommy.

  “I’ve scheduled your interviews for this afternoon,” he tells me cheerfully.

  I sigh, “You are way too chipper. What’s your secret, Tommy? It’s cocaine, isn’t it? You can admit it.”

  He grins, “Never once, I just figure you can be miserable and tired, or you can be excited and make the most of it, the day’s going to happen either way.”

  “That’s actually a really good philosophy,” I say, tilting my head toward him.

  “You sound surprised,” he says, tapping on his clipboard.

  “I guess I am a little,” I admit. “I’m just realizing that I don’t know you very well at all.”

  He shrugs, “I have many layers. Like a soufflé.”

  “I think you mean parfait.”

  He wags his eyebrows, “No, Soufflé. Because I always rise to the occasion. Get it?”

  “That was so bad I don’t even know how to respond,” I tease. “So what do you do when you aren’t running me around or putting out fires for Sarah?”

  “I run the altruistic arm of my father’s construction company. We buy land in impoverished areas around the world and build schools, hospitals, and affordable housing.”

  “That’s amazing,” I say, not hiding my envy. “I wish I could do something like that.”

  “You can and you will. As queen, you can do as much charity work as you want,” he offers. “You can even assist me on a couple projects to get your feet wet, if you’d like.”

  “Really? I’d love that.”

  He beams.

  “Ok, outside of work, what do you do for fun?”

  He sits back, “I love music—everything from the opera to a good rock concert. And I love dancing, I’m not very good at it myself, but I love watching ballet and modern interpretive. And I really like American cinema.”

  “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Oh, no way to choose just one. I do like a good scary movie, though.”

  “I would not have guessed that,” I admit. “I’m a fan of horror myself.”

  “Other than that,” He shrugs. “Most people actually assume I’m gay just because I’m so into the arts, but I’m not. Just naturally in touch with my feminine side.”

  I have to admit, I’d been wondering about that myself—not that I’d ever ask. “Do you date much?”

  “No, honestly sexual attraction isn’t something I really…feel. Like, I love people—men and women--and hanging out and I even like the idea of romance, but physically, I guess it just isn’t my thing. It’s hard to explain.”

  Holding up a hand, I shake my head, “No, I get it. I had a friend in college who was the same way. It took her a long time to come to grips with it. I think people always made her feel like something was wrong with her, like she was broken somehow. But that’s just not the case.”

  “I’m glad she had a friend like you who understood. Not everyone is so lucky,” he says thoughtfully. “I had Sarah, I think she was relieved not to be the only person in the house not set on the traditional marriage and family path. But at the same time, now we both have this pressure, like who carries on the family name if not one of us?”

  “There are always options if either of you ever decided you want a child, other roads you can take,” I offer. “Lots of kids out there need homes and families. Any one of them would be lucky to have you and Sarah.”

  “I don’t think I’d be a great dad, but I’d be one hell of an inappropriate uncle,” he says with a laugh. “Come on, little Timmy, I’ll show you how to blow up a suit of armor with dry ice and a bottle of water.”

  I shake my head, “Remind me not to let you babysit.”

  “I take it you’re looking forward to being a parent?”

  My mouth twitches at the thought. “Yeah, I think growing up with my foster family made me realize how important family really is. Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified at the idea, but excited by it too. And let’s be real, I can’t go too far wrong with Aiden beside me. My biggest parenting challenge will probably be keeping him from buying the kid a pony every time he cries.”

  Tommy laughs, “That sounds like Aiden.”

  “I do wish I knew more about my real family—my blood family. I have so many questions about where I came from, and there’s no one left to answer them,” I admit. “I kind of hate that, this feeling of not being connected to anything. Maybe that’s why I like it here so much, it feels like I’m putting down roots—real roots—for the first time.”

  “Have you considered one of those genetic tests?” He asks thoughtfully. “You could get some good insight that way.”

  I consider the idea. “I don’t know. I mean with stuff like that, what if I find something I don’t like. I mean, what if I’m related to like Hitler or something awful?”

  He snorts, “If you share a drop of that DNA, I’ll eat my shoe. But either way, you just have to decide what’s worse, knowing something terrible or not knowing anything at all.”

  It’s a good point, and I continue mulling the idea over until we reach the Palace.

  “Well, I’m supposed to meet Aiden. Thank you for accompanying me today, Lord Norwood,” I offer formally.

  He bows, “My pleasure, Lady Sully. I’ll message you the details for your interviews this afternoon.”

  We part ways in the garage, as he heads outside and I make my way to the door to the palace. It’s only when I hear the echo of my footsteps on the floor that I stop and look around. There’re no guards, I realize. No one in the massive room at all, except me. I take another step when I hear a car door open and footsteps pour out. Turning, I see Aiden’s guard Kato approaching. With a sigh of relief, I continue toward the door.

  “Hey Kato. You just coming on duty?” I ask.

  His arms slither around me, a damp cloth covering my nose and mouth before I can make another sound. Panic explodes in my head and I struggle to get into position to break his hold, but I’m already dizzy and off balance as he drags me backward. With all the force I can muster, I rear back and drive my elbow into his chest. His grip falters just enough for me to wriggle free and take two steps before he has me again. This time I scream and forgetting the rag, he clasps his arm around my neck and squeezes.

  I stomp on his foot, but he holds fast and before I can think of a counter move, black blotches erupt in my vision and my knees buckle as the darkness closes around me. The last thing I hear is Tommy’s voice calling my name.

  Kidnapped

  The throbb
ing in my head jars me from my sleep, my neck and shoulders aching as I come to. It takes me a minute to realize the source of my pain, blinking as the world around me clears in my vision. I want to rub my eyes, but my hands are twisted behind me and bound.

  “What the hell,” I mutter, rolling onto my side. The motion triggers a shift in my vision and dizziness hits me, making my stomach churn.

  “Haven?” Tommy says, his voice hoarse.

  Forcing my eyes open again, I spot him across the room. He’s also on the floor, dried blood on his face.

  “Tommy,” I say, suddenly remembering the assault. “Are you alright?”

  “I think my nose is broken,” he says, twisting against his bonds. “And I’m tied up. You?”

  I tug at my hands once more, pain shooting through my arms. “Yeah, me too. Where are we?”

  The room is dark, the ground moist stone. There’s very little light, and what I see is streaming in from a crack below a door a few feet away.

  “Wine cellar?” he says. “Not the palace, I think. I’ve never seen a room like this in the palace.”

  Rolling to my back I moan. “Oh god, it feels like I fell down a flight of stairs.”

  “Me too,” he agrees. “Wait, do you hear something?”

  Holding my breath, I strain to listen. Sure enough, low voices murmur behind the closed door. Rolling onto my stomach, I inch worm myself to my knees. My feet aren’t tied, so I’m able to get them under me and stand, shaky as they are. Walking carefully toward the door, I listen.

  “What did you want me to do? He saw me put the girl in the trunk. I couldn’t just leave him,” a man half shouts. It’s a familiar voice, though I can’t place it immediately.

  “It was supposed to look like she got cold feet and ran off, now the whole country’s going to be searching for both of them.” That is Genevieve, there’s no mistaking that nasal voice. Though I’ve never heard her quite so panicked.

  “If you’d just let me take care of her like I did the queen, we wouldn’t even be in this mess,” he retorts.

  Took care of the queen? Hadn’t she had an aneurism?

  “I just need a minute to think, Kato.”

  The fog lifts from my mind. Kato, Aiden’s guard. He’d grabbed me from behind, I remember that much. Why hadn’t I fought back? The rag, I remember it over my nose and mouth. Then, when that had failed, he’d choked me out. It explains the dull ache in my throat.

  “That son of a bitch chloroformed me,” I whisper to Tommy who shoots me a confused glance.

  And he’s working for Genevieve.

  Abandoning the door, I make my way to Tommy who is struggling to stand.

  “Shh,” I say, whispering. “It’s Kato and Genevieve.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” he says, spitting. “Ugh, and why does my head hurt. Is it bleeding? Am I bleeding? Wait, yeah, I heard you scream and when I came around, he was putting you in the trunk of a car. I was going to call for help when someone hit me.”

  I glance at the back of his head and find matted blood. “It doesn’t look too bad but it’s too dark to tell for sure. Look, we both saw Kato, Tommy. Which means there’s no way he’s letting us walk out of here.” I bring my face close to his, “We have to escape, or they will kill us both. You understand?”

  He nods.

  “I need you to not panic and do exactly as I say, alright?”

  He nods again. Examining his back, I see our first lucky break.

  “Our hands are zip tied, but that’s good. I know how to break out of those. Just do what I do, ok?”

  Turning my back to him so he can see, I take a deep breath, bend forward just a little, and raise my arms as high as I can before bring them down and apart, using my butt like a wedge. The plastic snaps easily, despite cutting into my wrists a bit as it goes.

  With a sigh, Tommy does the same, and is able to free himself as well. Digging into my pocket, I find my phone. “Ugh, no signal.”

  “Mine either,” he says flipping it in his fingers.

  “Alright, let’s see if we can find a window or something.”

  We scour the walls as much as we can, finally seeing only one tiny glass window, but it’s barred over. I sigh. The room is small, but as Tommy suspected, it holds a shelf of old, cobweb covered wine bottles.

  “At least we have weapons,” I say, hefting one free. “The only way out is through, Tommy. Here’s the plan.”

  A few minutes later we’re ready to put our plan into action. Tommy curls up facing the door, his hands behind his back, and I crouch beside it, wine bottle in hand. Once I hear the voices again, I nod to him.

  “Help,” he screams. “Someone help, Haven’t not breathing. Help, please.”

  He keeps screaming, and finally the door flies open. I see the gun, but I’m already moving. In one motion I stand and smash the bottle across my body and into Kato’s face. He drops the gun, stumbling back, but he’s not as incapacitated as I’d hope so I rush him, hitting him low and taking us both to the ground.

  “Tommy, run,” I scream and he darts past us. Hesitating when he sees I’m grappling the large man, he starts searching for a weapon. “Just go,” I order. “Get help.”

  Kato flips me easily, and I have to counter quickly to keep him from going after Tommy. Employing the same move I’d used against Liam, I roll him over, His arm wedged between my legs. But this time I’m strangely calm, the adrenaline flooding my veins like fire, and I pull the arm from the socket, then pull again, breaking it before scurrying back and up righting myself.

  Turning the opposite way as Tommy had gone, I run straight into Genevieve, who holds the abandoned gun in my face. Pushing out her arm I charge forward without stopping, driving her into the wall and pressing my arm into her throat. She too drops the gun, trying to pull my arm off her, knowing I don’t have long till Kato is on his feet, I draw back as she turns red, then slug her in the face with everything I’ve got.

  I feel the bones in her cheek and nose snap, the sound of it a sickening crunch. She crumples and I grab her shoulder, throwing her into Kato who is struggling to stand. Off balance, they both fall and I’m running through what I assume is her house. It’s too fancy to belong to Kato, and the St. Lauraunt crest hangs from nearly every wall. There’s a suit of armor guarding one hall and I rush to it, scrambling to draw the sword free with a clamor, but ultimately with no luck. Abandoning it, I keep running, down the hall, skidding to a stop as my shoes hit the tile.

  Kato’s footsteps aren’t far behind and I’m left with tree options. Hide, fight, or keep running and hope I find the exit.

  Knowing that even with one arm I’m no match for him physically, and knowing what he’ll do if he finds me, I have to go with my least favorite scenario.

  Cardio.

  I run, the sound of my shoes giving away my location as I fumble up a set of stairs, down another hall, then another. Grabbing door after door only to find them all locked, I opt to climb yet another set of stairs, and another, until I finally push against a door that gives way, and I spill out into the harsh daylight.

  I was right, I can see the palace in the distance. It’s the St. Lauraunt estate, and I’ve found my way to the roof.

  Scrambling to the edge, I look for a way down. It’s four stories up, with no drain pipe to shimmy or fire escape to climb. Just tall, stone sides. Sirens ring out through the air and I exhale, staring over the back of the estate at the massive koi pond below.

  It’s the sound of rescue, I realize, relief spreading through my body. Tommy did it, he got help. The roof door bursts open and Kato appears, his pistol trained on me. I hold up my hands.

  “It’s over Kato, you hear them. They’re coming. Tommy’s already told them it was you and Genevieve. All you gotta do is tell them she made you help her. They’ll understand.”

  He shakes his head, “You think you’re the first person I’ve killed to protect Lady Genevieve? I would never betray her, I’d die first.”

  That’s when it
dawns on me. “You love her, don’t you?” I ask, already sensing the answer. I walk toward him slowly, one step at a time. “She used you, Kato. She uses everyone.”

  “She loves me,” he asserts. Then, in a softer voice, “I’ll tell them it was all me, that she tried to stop me. If you’re not around to tell them otherwise, she’ll be safe. She can still be queen.”

  Its at that moment that I realize with perfect clarity that he’s worked it all out in his head—all he has to do is get rid of me.

  There it is again, option number three. Turning my back to him I run, as quickly as my feet will carry me, using the stone ledge to push myself forward and up. Everything slows down for a minute, the world around me holding its breath as I close my eyes. I hear the shot ring out like a bell, I feel the impact on my shoulder, but I’m already falling.

  I hit the water at an odd angle and the pain is instantaneous. Between the shoulder and the shock, I open my mouth to scream, water filling my lungs like burning acid. Desperate, I try to swim, but I can’t command my arm to move. It’s just pain and cold and darkness. I open my eyes and see the light rippling above me and I reach my other hand up to it. But my legs are heavy. Watching the last of the bubbles escape my mouth, the blood from my shoulder tinting the already murky water. Everything inside me hurts, and with each spasm of my body as it tried to draw breath, the pain is a little less.

  Don’t give up, a voice inside my head demands.

  Do. Not. Quit.

  You did not come this far to give up now.

  Is it my voice? It sounds so familiar. Rallying myself, I make one last, desperate attempt to kick my legs, reaching up through the water. A hand clasps mine, pulling me, dragging me through the water and breaking the surface. I can feel the light on my face but I can’t open my eyes, can’t move.

  Breathe, the voice commands again.

  Breathe, Haven.

  You have to breathe.

  His lips are on mine, forcing air to my lungs.

  My body spasms. Arms hold me, leaning me over the side of the pond as I vomit water down the front of me. Finally free of the last of it, I gasp, a ragged breath, and I cough, pain once more ripping through me. I’m freezing everywhere except the fire in my throat and shoulder. My fingers are numb. When I finally open my eyes I’m on my back, strong arms cradling me, holding me against a warm chest.