The Admirer's Secret

by Crane, Pamela

  Allen entered the room holding the phone out for Haley. “Thanks for letting me use your phone. The tow truck will be on its way. They said they should be here within the next hour or two, so I’m going to wait in my car. Thanks again.”

  It was one of those times where Haley couldn’t be sure if those words were meant to make her feel bad for the guy, or if she felt bad because it was her responsibility as a human being to help the fellow out. Her mind screamed, Let him leave; it’s not that cold outside. She wanted Marc to herself. But her sense of humanity said otherwise. It would be wrong to make him sit alone outside on a cold night. Her heart won the battle.

  “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Allen. We haven’t really started eating yet, so you’re just in time.” She turned to Marc with a pleading look.

  “You really don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s okay. Really, stay for dinner,” Marc chimed in.

  “That’s so nice of you to offer. But only if you have enough food,” Allen replied specifically to Haley.

  “I made plenty. Just make sure you give me an ‘A’ on my final project.” Haley grinned.

  “Sure thing,” Allen said with a chuckle. He then reached around behind her and pulled her into a hug.

  She discreetly leaned away from him as his cheek brushed against hers. His two-day white scruff was abrasive on her skin. Why was Allen torturing her with his unwanted embrace? He was nice and all, but what she wanted was some time to get to know Marc better, not to have Allen roll in as a third wheel. But Allen was here now, and she wasn’t going to back out of her offer of dinner. She might as well tolerate his company. It might be the last time she ever had company, especially after this escapade.

  “Come on, Allen. Grab a seat.”

  Allen hastily tore off his jacket, like an over-rambunctious child. He smiled, warm and genuine, and big. His smile spread across his face, pushing his cheeks upward and outward. It was almost inhumanly wide. A momentary vision of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland crossed Haley’s mind.

  She turned to go into the kitchen. While pulling out a plate and silverware for Allen, she overheard him introduce himself and apologize to Marc for intruding on their night. From the kitchen Haley heard Marc’s attentive words affirming the invitation to join them without a trace of begrudging attitude. Appropriate introductory questions followed, the standard So what do you do for a living? Do you like living here so far? Have you gotten a chance to see any of the local attractions? Oddly enough, Marc did most of the asking and Allen did most of the answering.

  Though the night hadn’t turned out exactly as planned, after Allen’s arrival Haley didn’t expect it would be this good. The three lounged at the table, chatting between bites like old friends. A round of second helpings ensued, until they each allowed the fullness of the meal to settle into their overstuffed stomachs. Throughout the evening Haley attempted to break her stare but was unsuccessful as she absorbed Marc’s enticing presence. She couldn’t believe she was sitting across from this handsome man, and his signals implied that he enjoyed it just as much as she did. Marc didn’t have to tell her how he felt; she could feel it too.

  Touching his hand a couple times when talking to him, she memorized his flesh against hers. Her hands weren’t warm like the rest of her body; they were a stark contrast, almost clammy. Despite her nervousness, she held no reserve as she made contact every chance she could.

  This evening was an eye-opener as she watched Marc interact socially. And she liked everything about him she knew so far. Along with the other details that made him stand out in her mind… the way he stabbed a piece of chicken, potatoes, and beans with each bite; his hearty echoing laugher at her jokes; the way he made eye contact when he addressed her… she noticed the little things and adored each and every one of his little habits. She loved all his quirks, like when he broke into song while carrying an armful of dishes to the kitchen sink or put both elbows on the table when she was talking, leaning in closely to display his undivided attention. And when he seductively bit his lower lip, she nearly melted at the thought of kissing him. If she was dreaming right now, she didn’t ever want to wake up. She longed to blurt out exactly how she felt, but held back for the right time. And tonight wasn’t the time… especially with Allen hanging around.

  “So how do you and Marc know each other?” Allen’s question caught Haley with a mouthful of leftover potatoes that she intended to finish off.

  Marc answered for her. “I worked on her computer and she figured if she befriended me she’d get free computer service for life.”

  “Oh, whatever!” Haley chimed in. “I was actually working on a screenplay when my computer crashed. Marc came to the rescue. But apparently Marc thinks he should quit to do stand-up comedy!”

  While both Marc and Haley laughed, Allen sat stolid in his chair, a mere sliver of a polite smile on his face.

  “Apparently he must have something you want to warrant a nice dinner like this.” The poison from Allen’s words oozed into an uncomfortable silence. Then he continued, as naturally as if he hadn’t just exploded an atom bomb at the dinner table. “So, Marc, have you ever been to California?”

  “Nope. Pennsylvania’s as far west as I’ve gone.”

  “You’re missing out.”

  “I’m guessing you’re from California?”

  “Hollywood. I’m the same Allen Michaels listed in all the movie credits, if you bother to read the credits. You’ve probably heard of me if you’re familiar with the movie industry.”

  “Sorry, not really. I’m not much of a movie buff.”

  “I’m sure you’ve watched some of the television shows I’ve worked on.”

  “Sorry again. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Maybe you’ve seen my name in the Hollywood magazines? They’ve done articles on me in the past.”

  “Nope. I don’t really read that stuff.”

  At Marc’s third and final “nope,” Allen stopped pressing. Haley felt the testosterone levels rising.

  “Certainly if you plan to be with Haley you’d be interested in that stuff? You know that is her dream—to be a movie writer?”

  Marc chuckled. “I think you’re moving a little fast for me, Allen. So, you migrated a long way from Cali. How long have you been here in Westfield?” It sounded like Marc finally initiated his own version of a peace treaty.

  “I just moved here a few weeks ago. I probably picked a bad time to move—in the winter, I mean. I’m not quite used to cold weather, but so far I like the town. It’s very… quaint.”

  “Quaint—that’s one word to describe it, I suppose. So what about Westfield attracted you here? I mean, Hollywood is nothing like this. And we’re such a small town—hard to find on a map, that’s for sure!”

  “Well, it’s a lakeside community, so I liked the concept of being near a beach. Feels more like home than some of the bigger cities. Plus, I did some lectures in Buffalo a couple years back, and someone told me to spend the weekend at the Westfield Bed and Breakfast, so I did and loved it. Los Angeles is such a busy, crazy place sometimes, and it’s nice to take a break from it. So when I was trying to think of a place to go, this came to mind. I figured if I offered the class and no one signed up, I’d just move on. But I got a nice handful of students and it worked out great.”

  The next hour flew by seamlessly—with no further digs from Allen—while the three engaged in chitchat about Marc’s business, the upcoming Ice Festival, and the townspeople that Allen should steer clear of if he wanted to avoid the rumor mill.

  Flashing yellow lights outside signaled an end to the threesome and introduced the beginning of privacy as the overdue tow truck arrived.

  “The tow truck is only two hours late,” Allen wryly commented as he rose to grab his things. “You’d think it would only be a stone’s throw away in a town this small.”

  Walking Allen to the front door, Haley thanked him for joining them, then ushered him out to the stoop before he’d
even slid both of his arms into his coat sleeves.

  “Haley, it was a pleasure,” Allen said. “Though I would like to meet one-on-one again if we can before I leave.”

  “Sure, Allen. I’ll look at my calendar. Get home safely.”

  As she closed the door and turned back to Marc, she was disheartened to see that he was standing with his hands in his pant pockets, rocking back on his heels. It was the telltale sign that he was ready to leave too.

  “Aren’t you going to stay?”

  “Well, it’s getting late and I should probably head home.”

  It figures. “I understand,” she answered, not bothering to mask the disappointment in her voice. She wanted Marc to hear it too, hoping he would somehow read her mind and decide to stay.

  “I’m sorry. I hate to eat and run, but I have a lot going on tomorrow; it’s an early morning for me. But I had a wonderful time tonight. Even with the three of us. Allen seems like an… interesting guy.”

  They both laughed. Her dejection now subtly dwindling, she went to the closet and retrieved his coat for him, inhaling one last scent of the fresh leather.

  “I did have fun, though,” Marc said.

  Another good sign. So the evening wasn’t a total train wreck, and it was probably safe to give him her version of a thank you for his company. When she handed Marc his jacket, she slid something into the folds of the fabric. He accepted his coat, grabbing with it something rectangular… and wrapped. He looked at it questioningly and held it out to her.

  “No, it’s for you. I made you something.” She pushed the gift back toward him.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I thought you would like it.”

  He ran his fingers along the long, thin edge, tracing the item’s outline.

  “Should I open it now?”

  “Of course!” she prompted.

  He tore off one edge and slid out a medium-sized picture frame. Captured inside the wooden border was a sunset.

  Marc examined the image and smiled as if reflecting over—or was he analyzing—the photograph. He stood silent for longer than expected. Haley struggled to interpret his response.

  “Do you like it?” she finally asked.

  “Very much. It’s just that it looks vaguely familiar…”

  “Well, it’s a hobby of mine—taking pictures, I mean.”

  “Thank you so much. This is really thoughtful of you.” He paused, then continued, “You know, I don’t think I have a single picture on any of my walls. I know just the place for this. Thanks, Haley. You’ve just brightened up my living room.”

  “Well, the picture made me think of you. I’m glad you like it.”

  “I definitely do.”

  Marc slipped his coat on and stepped toward the door. Reaching for the doorknob, he paused and turned to face Haley. He held out his arms, and unsure of what he was doing, she walked into them. He slowly enveloped her in his grasp, squeezing her gently. She thought she felt the brush of his lips tickling her cheek.

  Haley’s body trembled in his, but she wasn’t sure if he felt it or not. Her excitement peaked with each passing second. The moment endured time. His grasp lingered, and when he slowly released, he gave a slight sigh, as if he regretted having to let go. That gesture salvaged the date more than anything Marc could have said. In Haley’s mind, the evening couldn’t have ended more romantically… considering the circumstances.

  She solitarily stood in the doorway watching his car disappear into the shadows looming outside the reach of nearby streetlights. It took a few moments before she could force herself back to the dishes in the kitchen and dealing with the sparse leftovers needing put away. She kept wishing he would turn around for one last quiet moment together, but eventually the cold draft hit her bare legs with such force that she surrendered any surprise return.

  After the kitchen was clean and the dishes in the dishwasher, she sat down at the dining room table to reflect on the evening. She retrieved a pile of mail and began to sort through it, when something caught her eye. Pushed beside the vase of flowers, Marc left his signature calling card: a handwritten heart-shaped letter folded in half waiting for her eyes only. She read it slowly and intentionally, absorbing each poetic word:

  My darling Haley,

  How can I show you what you mean to me? Words can only express so much, and actions can only show so much, but how can a heart feel so much? It’s enough passion to fill a lifetime together. You are forever in my thoughts and my wish is to be filled with more than dreams of you, Haley, but with shared memories together. I hope you feel the same.

  Yours forever,

  Marc

  As she read the beautiful prose in its perfect cursive handwriting, she wished he would have said it all aloud. There was something surreal about the note, and if only he could have spoken what his heart clearly longed to tell her… but she’d give him time to let the words surface.

  **

  Later that night, lying in the pitch-black, Haley replayed the hug over and over. She knew there were more of those to come. She couldn’t believe how wonderful Marc was turning out to be. The sensation that Haley was left with after being in his presence felt indescribable. He left her wanting, and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She wanted to be near him, to talk to him, to be lost in his eyes. Haley couldn’t put her finger on what it was about him that made her feel this way, but it was pure. Though there were a lot of things she hadn’t discussed with Marc—like the details of her past or how deep her passions ran—something in her heart told her that he held those very same things close to his own heart. She knew that he would accept who she was and who she is, no matter how messed up she might be.

  His letters assured her of that.

  People always assume they have more time to pursue the things they want. Where has the time gone? There was no answer for her in the pitying darkness. For many, love is as elusive as truth from a politician’s lips. But this time she’d hold on.

  Chapter 25

  After the “miraculous” recovery of his engine and the tow truck’s departure, Allen’s drive home that night gave him time to reflect on the evening. He turned off the radio as soon as he started the engine so he could relish the quiet. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, untainted in the peaceful silence. Though overwhelmed with excitement at seeing Haley again, Allen was disappointed that Marc Vincetti was sitting at her dining room table.

  Shaking his head, Allen couldn’t imagine what Haley would want with such an average guy. Though Marc seemed “likeable” enough with his friendly pretense, there was nothing special about him. Besides, Allen brooded, all of Marc’s cordial chatter was probably just a façade to make himself look good in front of Haley.

  Allen read right through Marc’s invitation to join them—Marc wanted to shove his relationship with Haley in Allen’s face. Allen seethed at the thought. He despised Marc. How could Haley not see through Marc’s charade? And even if she did fall for Marc’s act, certainly she had to recognize that she was too good for a boring computer repairman. And tonight only reaffirmed that notion. Her enchanting personality, combined with her enticing charm, was poles apart from Marc’s dry intellect. She needed a creative counterpart like Allen to complete her. Engrossed in her every gesture and every murmur, Allen was captivated as she emanated an energy and tenderness that so few people possessed. Haley was a gem. A rare jewel that Allen hoped to add to his crown.

  Haley was the complete opposite of his ex. Luckily, he would never have to deal with that wench ever again. Her nagging, her dominating personality, her demands—his soon-to-be ex drove him to do what he did. But Haley, on the other hand, was sweet and thoughtful and naïve. These traits were exactly what he wanted in a woman.

  As he relived the evening detail by detail, Allen knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep that night. Haley’s infectious laugh would echo in his mind until the sun rose. In his mind’s eye he saw her twisting her finger around her soft curls, attentive to h
is words. He’d never met a woman like her, certainly not in Hollywood where everyone was already “someone” and Allen was a mere face in a crowd of countless somebodies. Women didn’t flock to him there. Not being the required grade A meat—maybe a C+—he rarely got a second glance from passersby, and certainly not the respect he deserved. Haley gave him all that he sought—he stood out where he belonged, as a celebrity should. With Haley at his side, he’d never have to worry about feeling like a nobody.

  More determined than ever to keep her, Allen knew he needed a plan. But time was running short and he still hadn’t secured any assurance that she’d be following him to the West Coast.

  Wishing away the musings, the other side of the sword slew him like a dagger in his heart. There was something else about Haley that caught his attention when he left the dinner table to use the bathroom. On his way, he had passed Haley’s bedroom. The door was wide open; the room was as neat as a pin. Allen observed her decorative rose-patterned pillows, her feminine taste and the orderly way she kept everything. He imagined himself in that bed next to her, waking up to her glowing face each morning for the rest of their lives. But as his gaze curiously circled her room, something struck him. Next to her bed, perched upright beneath her bedside lamp, was a picture. The photograph of Marc should have been enough of a hint to confirm that Haley’s heart was no longer available; there was no reason for Allen to give her another thought.

  But he couldn’t give up that easily. After all, that’s how he got into this business: using force. It was his nature. Passive-aggressive. There was still a chance, and his plan was flawless. Tomorrow she would get his letter, then she’d naturally accept the invitation to accompany him to L.A., and a week later they would be riding off into the sunset together. She’d be unable to resist Allen’s spell and would happily leave Marc in the cloud of dust behind. A perfect Hollywood ending. Once Westfield was behind them, Marc would be history and Haley would be his.