Crown's Chance at Love

by Mayra Statham

  ***

  Mike

  Waking up in Sabrina’s guest room I look at my phone. It’s a little past five in the morning. I turn in bed, looking up, watching the ceiling fan turn trying not to think about what I need to do. I need to tell her the truth. Tonight. If I don’t, Nick will tell her the next day and I can’t let Nick do that. I’ve been a selfish coward these last few months., and it s time for me to man up. I’d been lying to her for the past couple of months and I can do is pray that she can somehow forgive me.

  No. I’ll make her forgive me. I’ll figure out a way. I’m not going to give up. Not on her. Not on the kids. Not on us. We’re going to make it through this.

  After a pep talk to myself, and a plan of action all set, I felt a renewed energy. I got up and left. My day was busy with meetings in and out of the office, but tonight I would set everything right.

  Sabrina

  I had to admit that even though I felt a slight twinge of awkwardness at being in Mike’s office without him being here, it was slightly thrilling. Being in the space where he spent most of his day was interesting. There was something about sitting in his oversized black leather chair that made my heartbeat race a tiny bit. Being here without him created an unspoken familiarity, even though he was so adamant about us only getting to know one another. I’d been in his office before, but just quick drop-ins that he had insisted on after my meetings with the charity committee.

  The cheesy smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on my face whenever I thought about Mike, is definitely present today. His office chair is exquisite. It is comfortable, over-sized and the leather is as soft as butter.

  I liked knowing his body was comfortable while he worked. I liked knowing the car he drove was safe. I liked it too much for someone I was just getting to know. The more time I spent with him, the more I liked him. Not only was I falling for him, but last night proved my kids were as well.

  In Mike’s office my mind easily went to this mornings conversation with Mark. My oldest had wanted to make sure that I knew that the three of them gave me the thumbs up for dating Mike. I smile and shake my head as I think about how Mark had told me that Penny , Chris and him had had a conversation about it. The younger two wanted Mark to tell me that they all like Mike. My smile widens at the idea of my three beautiful children giving me the thumbs up to date Mike. If only figuring out what Mike wanted was as easy. I bite my bottom lip as I think about talking to Mike and telling him I was ready to progressing whatever we were further. The way he had admitted he wanted to sleep next to me the night before, I knew he didn’t mean only for sexual purposes.

  There was just something that was holding him back.

  Shaking my head I try to focus on why I was in his office in the first place.

  Mike had said that the file I needed was on his desk, and I couldn’t help the smirk or deep breath I had to take as I looked at his desk.

  Simply said, it is a mess.

  Papers, Post-Its, and pens are covering the dark mahogany desk. I lean back, my eyes going towards the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. The mess makes it easy for me to get distracted.

  I imagine his hard strong body sitting, looking out during the day. I smile at what he must look like when we talked or texted throughout the day. Shaking my head out of my daydreams, I look at his desk and try to figure out where to start to find the file for the vendors that the committee wanted to use.

  Personally, I don’t understand the committee; the way they would go ahead and hire a new planner, yet want to plan it the same exact way their old event planner had done things, but at the end of the day it wasn’t my own personal event. My job is to make sure they are happy at the end of the night.

  Looking at the files strewn over his desk, nothing seemed to be the lists that I need.

  Frowning I sit back down, accidently hitting the computer mouse. His monitor came to life, and I realize he had left his computer on. Maybe it had been e-mailed and he had thought he had printed it? Knowing how distracted he had been with the new deal on his plate, mixing that with the fact that we had been seeing one another so much, that could have been a possibility. I wondered if maybe he had planned on printing it and just hadn’t got around to doing it.

  His email was left opened, so I lean in to look at his inbox, but immediately sit back. An overwhelming feeling is falling over me as I think that maybe I am overstepping my boundaries. He had said to come in and it would be on his desk. Maybe I should just text him and he will text me back? My hand leaving the mouse, I feel less like a snoop as I back away from it.

  I stood up to look for the file on his desk, and after a bit it was obvious that what I needed wasn’t here. Picking up my oversized and overflowing purse from where I had left it when I had come in two oversized files catch my eye. They are right by the printer on a bookshelf. The excitement about getting all the details done for the Breast Cancer Gala flowed through me. I loved this part of my job, working on the small details to watch the way different vendors come together and create a fantastic night. Even if the event was pretty much all planned, I was excited about networking with new vendors and hopefully even talking the committee into some ideas I had been working on especially for this event. My boss Laney, was completely excited about the new client, and wanted to make sure I did everything in my power to make sure the committee ended the night of the gala completely happy.

  Opening the overfilled files, I was completely thrown off by what I saw inside.

  Time froze.

  Dread washes over me like a wave hitting the shore. An 8x10 of HIM looking back at me. His whiskey colored eyes smiling. I immediately recognize the picture. It is the picture that the paper had used for his obituary. The local paper. In Berkeley. Something hitches in my throat. Sean. My beautiful, wonderful, stubborn-when-he-wanted-to-be, completely open, loving Sean. And he’s staring at me. His picture is in the office of a man that I am semi-dating and falling hard for. A man I had brought around my children and family.

  Oh God Sean. What have I done? I think as my hands touch his jaw. I had done that millions of times when he was alive, and anytime I caught a glimpse of him, my hands ached to touch his skin. But with him being dead, I have to make due touching his face on paper as he stares back.

  Everything in me feels heavy. I am not even sure if I’m breathing. Why would Mike would have a picture of Sean? That’s when my brain kicked in and processed that the file in front of me is huge. Almost overflowing. With slightly shaky hands that tremble because they have a mind of their own, I take the two files, and place them on my lap as I look down at them. Swallowing hard, trying to take away the dryness from my mouth, I breathe deeply to prepare myself for whatever I am about to see.

  My phone starts to ring, completely startling me, making me jump in Mike’s comfortable leather chair. Placing the files on his desk in front of me I dig out my phone.

  Mike Calling my phone reads and for some reason after taking a deep breath, I answer.

  “Hey baby,” he says sounding as if he’s in a better mood than yesterday afternoon.

  “Hi,” I blurt out, my hand splayed on top of the files.

  “How’s your day going?” he asks me and I close my eyes.

  “Good, yours?” I ask trying to make small talk.

  “Did you find the files you needed?” he asks. Boy had I ever… I had texted him I was on my way to his office before I had left my own office.

  “Umm… Yeah,” I say. I know I sound distracted. I can’t stop looking at the files taunting me in front of me.

  Why does he have Sean’s picture?

  “You okay?” he asks sounding concerned which snaps me out of my momentary shock.

  “Umm…Yeah. I’m okay Mike. I’m just making sure it has all the vendors they mentioned at my meeting,” I lie. I surprise myself with how calm I sound. Maybe there is an easy explanation as to why Mike has a picture of Sean. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ll be out as soon as I can,” I
tell him.

  “Take your time. I should make it on time for dinner. You sure you don’t want me to take anything?” Dinner. Shit. I had forgotten all about that.

  “No, I think I got it. I’ll probably pick something up tonight.” My heart races at the possibilities of what could be in those files. An imagination was a bad thing to have in moments like these.

  “Okay baby. I’ll see you later, I have to go back in to this meeting. I just wanted to make sure you found what you needed.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Bye Mike,” I say softly as the call disconnects.

  I should have stopped looking at that file. I should have stepped away from it staring back at me as it sat on his desk. I should have called him back to ask him where the file I actually needed was, but I had unfortunately already lied saying I had found it. Maybe I could just call him back to ask why he had a picture of Sean in a scary bulky file to begin with? I mean I had made sure not to play games with him, so why start now? Why couldn’t I just call him and say “Hey Mike, question: why the hell do you have a picture of my dead husband?”

  But I didn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  My heart races thinking about what possibly could be in those files. Fear was a fickle little thing. It had somehow seeped deep into me, hooking itself in me. Wrapping itself around my throat. My hands still shaking, adrenaline surging through me as they move closer to the file. Opening it, I see Sean’s face once more, only this time I don’t stop at Sean’s picture. No I keep going.

  I absorb everything that is in this file.

  Dozens upon dozens of pictures. The kids and I at a park. Pictures with Nick and the kids. Pictures of the kids and I coming and going from our house in Berkeley. Pictures of my parents and I at the cemetery. Pictures of me alone at his gravesite taken from afar. Pictures of Emi and I at the coffee shop we used to go to in Berkeley. All time stamped back three years ago. Time stamped to right before we moved. I feel sick to my stomach. Why does Mike have all this?

  Part of me wants to stop looking at it but it isn’t in me. I had always dealt with things head on. With the exception of Sean’s death, I had never been one to draw things out, so I open the next file.

  More pictures, but these are all recent pictures. Pictures of Mark at the baseball field with his team here in Pasadena. Penny and I at a nail salon. Me dropping Chris off at school. Pictures of the kids at one of Emmi’s kids’ birthday parties that had been held at a Chuck E. Cheese. All of these in this file are time stamped as well. These are all recent. March of this year. As I keep looking through the pictures, I almost feel sick at the amount of pictures there are. Chris and I at the bookstore. The kids and I out to eat with Emmi and her family. The kids out to eat with Nick. Me at Starbucks. Me getting into my car after work. My head is spinning with all of the images in front of me.

  Then it hits me.

  I had met Mike in April.

  I had met Mike at the same Starbucks that there were numerous pictures of me coming and going from.

  Who the hell is he? Why had he had me followed? There were receipts from a private investigator in the file. He had known about me three years ago, I think to myself. He had always known about Sean. I had felt like an idiot lying to him about being a single mom, but he had known the whole time.

  Then a couple of things started to happen all at once.

  Dread started to seep in at the thought of Mike being some weirdo I had somehow let into our lives, close to my kids. I thought of how completely stupid I had been. Had I really started to fall for this man, who now felt like a completely dangerous stranger?

  Visions of TV shows like Law and Order ran through my head. Was this the equivalent of those episodes when someone was obsessed with another and had a room filled with pictures of them? Was Mike dangerous?

  I didn’t want to believe he was. I had thought I knew him. I was usually a great judge of character. But at that moment, I was doubting I had ever known him at all. My stomach roiled and I took a deep breath trying not to let the bile rise up in my throat. Throwing my cell back into my bag I stood up.

  With shaky hands I put back the files exactly where I had found them. Bumping into his printer, I spotted the file I had actually needed and threw it into my oversized bag.

  Staring at the files with all the pictures of the kids and I, I decided I couldn’t leave them. I had to take them with me. So I stuffed them along the vendor file into my bag.

  Mike was coming over tonight, and we were going to have a little chat. Anger started to spark and float into my veins. I couldn’t let anger cloud my judgement. I had to play this safe as I left his office. On the way home I called Emmi and asked her if she could pick the kids up after school and keep them at her place until she was able to pick them up. Without asking a question Emmi agreed.

  Now finally home in my office, I look out the window that faces my front yard. Sitting there, staring out, I don’t know what to think. My imagination is running away with me and I can’t seem to stop it. Part of me wants to call Nick and tell him all of it and hear what he has to say. But I know what he would say and do. He would tell me to hide out at Emmi’s or my parents and he would fly on the next flight out. All I can focus on is how I was feeling.

  Mike.

  I sigh.

  He had lied to me. When we met, he had known who I was. Why had he been collecting information about me and the kids? Chills ran down my back at the thought of the possibility of Mike being some kind of weirdo. Maybe I should call the police? Or in the very least Nick.

  Sabrina

  The doorbell rang throughout the quiet house, snapping me out of my thoughts. Looking at the clock on the wall, I realize it is a little early for Mike to be at the house. Walking to the door I open it, surprised at the cute guy standing there.

  There is something familiar about him I can’t place.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I ask as I keep looking at him. He is cute. Too young for me, mid to late twenties and is working the bad boy look, even though he is clean shaven. Squared-jaw, short clean cut dark hair. But its his eyes. Something in his eyes, that when you first laid eyes on him told you he was trouble with a capital T. Something about his eyes though felt familiar. They are a beautiful blue, but the left eye has a scar right above his eyebrow. He is about six feet tall with a muscular build that screams he works out…a lot.

  “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you I was looking for Sabrina Miller.” His voice is surprisingly deep and I smile at him.

  “I’m Sabrina.”

  “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you. I umm… You were married to Sean Miller, right?” he asks nervously.

  My heart picks up a little speed and I nod.

  “Yes, how can I help you?” I look at him. The fact that he seems so familiar is bugging me.

  “I… umm… I wanted to give you my condolences. I know it’s been almost four years, but…” Now it suddenly makes sense.

  “OH! Were you a friend of Sean’s?” I ask, instantly relaxing. Throughout the years, some of Sean’s high school friends have shown up at my doorstep out of the blue.

  “Something like that,” he mumbles looking nervous.

  “Please come in,” I say opening the door, and I notice he looks a little hesitant but comes in anyway.

  I walk over to the living room and point to the couch.

  “Have a seat, would you like something to drink?”

  “Water if you don’t mind,” he says and I smile at him nodding.

  He looks nervous. They usually did. Sean had had great friends. Throughout the years a few had stopped by once they had found out what had happened. They would share stories about him and the kind of guy he was.

  Bringing back two bottles of water, I sit at the couch in front of where he is sitting.

  “Here you go.” I hand it to him smiling.

  “Thanks,” he says holding the bottle.

  “I really am sorry about your loss Sabrina,” he says seriously and I look at him smiling.

>   “Thank you. He was a great man,” I say. “Did you use to work with him? You look too young to have gone to school with him,” I ask smiling at him.

  “No, I didn’t go to school with him, umm Sabrina…” he starts to say but the doorbell rang again.

  “Sorry, I must be popular today, I’ll be right back,” I say standing up heading to the door.

  I open it without looking at the peephole and standing in front of me is Mike smiling at me a little nervously.

  Even with knowing the fact that he had two extremely creepy files on the kids and I, I can’t help the feeling that sweeps over me when I see him. He had lied and had acted like a complete stranger when we had met. Yet like an idiot I was holding onto hope that there was a reasonable explanation for why he had paid a private investigator to find out things about us. I was falling for him and I didn’t want to feel like an idiot for falling in love with some weirdo. I was invested in him.

  “Hey,” I blurt out.

  “Hey,” he smiles, but even his smile feels off. Nervous almost. “I called your office but they said you headed home early.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I had a umm- a headache. Come in. One of Sean’s friends is here,” I somehow manage to say. My heart is beating furiously at the fact that I have to confront him. Too many ideas are going through my head about what it all could mean.

  He grabs my hand and I hate that I love how my hand feels in his. I love the feel of his strong fingers entwined in mine. But as much as I love it, I have to be smart. He had been lying to me since the moment we met. Knowing he had been lying to me I shouldn’t feel as safe as I do around him. I should be frightened of him, but I’m not.

  We reach the living room and he freezes at the archway, completely still. I look at him. He’s a little pale and surprised. The surprise on his face quickly changes into a scowl.

  “Mike, this is… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” I say to Sean’s friend.

  “Patrick,” Sean’s friend says standing up, looking seriously at us. His eyes travel to Mike and me, frowning slightly.