The Admirer's Secret (11 page)

“Having a vineyard was always a gamble for us, especially hiring out labor with no guarantee of how the harvest will do. And we could never compete with the bigger vineyards. I had to pick up where Dad left off…
I feel like I didn’t have a real childhood after he died. Sometimes I just want to know why me?”

Her last words echoed against the plaster walls. Haley paused,
and the silence became deafening. She had said more than she should have, but couldn’t retract her words. She feared what Marc would think of her after her tirade.

“Do you believe in God?” he asked. His question felt
too intimate, and an uncertain hush trailed behind it.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” she answered. “I used to believe that
there was a God—until He took my friend and then my father from me. Now I just feel like maybe there isn’t anything more than suffering through this life until the end. Life is about the here and now, Marc. And that’s it. Pain, suffering, and after that, nothing.”

“Wow, I can’t agree with you that there’s nothing to look forward to, Haley. How can you even survive a day thinking that way? That life is little more than a helping of painful moments on earth? If there’s nothing bigger than us and our problems and our own little egos, then that pretty much says we have nothing to look forward to. It’s like saying that unless you get rich and famous, you’re worthless.”

“Maybe that’s just it, Marc. Maybe that’s all there is to life. Get what you can and wait for death to put you out of your misery.”

“Haley, do you even hear yourself? Waiting to be put out of your misery? Life doesn’t have to be miserable.”

“I dunno know, Marc. You’re talking to a woman who seems to attract tragedy. I wish I could feel differently, and maybe someday I will, but right now I guess I just need something to hope for.”

“Don’t you think that everything you have—dreams, a nice home, a job, a family—isn’t that enough? How can you discount
these things?”

Haley sieved through Marc’s words. Though it
seemed
she had all that and more, the reality of it was that she really had nothing. No one to share the good with. And that was a hard pill to swallow. Comfortable with her resentfulness, the wall that separated her from her Maker blended into the scenery of her life; her detachment molded who she had become over the years. But now there was another truth being told to her. A truth proclaiming that someone still cared about her, even after all these years. Even after her unforgiveness and anger. Though she wasn’t ready to accept it just yet, she let it simmer. Yes, she was lucky. Yes, her dreams were coming to fruition. And yes, now she had Marc—probably the most wonderful gift of all. But still… something wasn’t quite right. Something remained unsettled within her.

“Well, I know you can get through it,” Marc concluded. “There’s something better out there for you. But you have to let go of whatever is eating you up inside. It will
eventually rot you from within.” Something about the way he said that caught her attention; it was contemplative, as if he was talking to himself. Yet it was so honest, so true. “Can you at least promise me you’ll try to let go and just live?”

Hmm. The request sounded oddly familiar.

Did he know more about her father’s last words than she imagined? And if so, how?

“I promise to at least try.” Now she was doubly bound.

The tone was starting to feel much too therapeutic, so Haley sobered the mood, saying, “I don’t know why I get so upset. I swear I’m somewhat normal if you get to know me.”

“You—normal? I doubt that.” He poked her ribs. She liked that he touched her, even if his jab was a little too close to her love handles.

“Your turn.”

His face blanked. “My turn?”

“To share something, remember?”

Marc playfully winced then grew serious. The intensity in his eyes told her he had s
omething important to tell her, perhaps something he had bottled up for a long time. He looked down, not in shame, but more as if in a quest for the words, as if the floorboards held the answers. “Actually, I do have something to tell you—about tonight and all of this.” His eyes met hers. “I just wanted to be clear with you about things—”

A
kitchen timer stopped him mid-sentence. “Can you hold that thought while I take the chicken out of the oven? Otherwise we’ll need a chainsaw to cut through it.”

“Absolutely. Let me help.”

She noticed relief, a change in his demeanor and she wondered if he felt saved by the bell.

“And just so you know, I’d eat dirt off the floor if you served it.”

“This time I’m serving something a little better than that. Though my mom would freak out if she knew I didn’t make my own sauce for the chicken. So let’s keep it to ourselves. She gardens and cans her own food, so to her jarred tomato sauce is an abomination. I guess that’s part of growing up on a farm.”

“I never would have pegged you for a farm girl. Shouldn’t you be wearing overalls and a straw hat?”

“I thought that might be too much. Hey, I could say the same about you being a nerdy computer guy. Shouldn’t you have on a pocket protector or something?” she said over her shoulder as she strolled to the kitchen, with Marc tailing close behind.

“Hey, thanks so much for helping. Can you take this to the table, then go ahead and sit down. I’ll be right out.” She handed him a steaming dish of breaded chicken breasts bubbling over with cheese and
—God forbid—Ragu.

Marc set the entrée on the dining room table while commenting on the simple elegance. Two white plates trimmed in gold sat on a plain white tablecloth, with decorative, rosy napkins and
gleaming silverware nestled near each plate—a place setting that Haley rarely, if ever, used. She had placed the flowers he brought on the table. While Marc seated himself, a thought came to her. Haley scampered to the living room and turned on her stereo, flooding the house with soft R&B. Once the mood was set, she ran back to the kitchen and returned to the dining room with hands full of the remaining food. When Marc pulled out her chair for her, Haley rewarded him with a smile. Another smooth move scoring him points. Haley sensed Marc wasn’t doing this for show. He wanted to treat her right, and she liked it… a lot.

“Looks amazing! Do you usually cook like this for all of your friends?” Marc asked her, breaking the silence after he finished praying over the food.

“It’s special for you.” Though she said it jokingly, Haley meant it. Marc excavated a joyful sensation within her that had been deeply guarded by her heart. The meal, the conversation, the whole evening—it reminded her that life was good, that it felt nice to care about another person. It had been a long time since Haley had experienced that kind of excitement. For the first time in her life, Haley’s intuition told her this was more than just a dinner leading to a dead end. No, this relationship was going somewhere, and she felt as if this could be her future, her destiny, sitting across from her. She basked in that feeling.

Just as they settled into their chairs, preparing to dish out food, the doorbell rang.

“That’s odd. I’m not expecting other company,” she mumbled.

“So you don’t usually make it a habit to have more than one date at a time?”

Haley laugh. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back.”

She rose from her chair and opened her heavy wooden front door.

Allen Michaels. Wearing jeans with a thin windbreaker and a sorry look on his face. But not sorry enough.

Chapter
24

“W
hat are you doing here?” Haley asked sternly. This was not cool. Not cool at all.

Allen peered around the door into the dining room, his glare settling on Marc. “I didn’t realize you had company. I am sorry for popping in like this, but I was on my way home and the engine sputtered and the car just quit right on your street. I had your address in my briefcase, so I thought I could use your phone, since my cell phone went dead. I only need a second,” he explained in more detail than Haley needed to hear.

She peered beyond him to the street. His black Mercedes sat at the curb, its hazard lights blinking furiously. “Come in. It’s freezing out there. You’ll need more than a windbreaker to get through a winter in Westfield, Allen.”

“I know, I know. I just haven’t gotten around to shopping for a coat.
I thought you were supposed to take me shopping,” he said with a cracked smile.

Haley ignored his
comment. “I’ll get the phone for you. Just wait here a moment.” Leaving Allen in the entry, she hurried to the kitchen to retrieve the cordless phone.

“Thanks so much, Haley,” Allen called after her.

Haley returned, handed him the phone, and pointed to the living room. “If you’d like to make your call in there, you’ll have some privacy.”

Leaving him unattended, Haley returned to the dining room. “I am so sorry about this, Marc,” she whispered. “That’s my writing teacher from that class I was telling you about. He’s having engine trouble and is calling for a tow truck. I’ll try to get him out of here as soon as I can. I am so sorry.”

Marc scratched his angular chin. “You know what? Maybe you should invite the guy to stay for dinner until the truck comes.”

“That’s really sweet of you to be so understanding, but I don’t know…” That was the last thing she wanted.

“Well, I’m not one to turn away strays. But it’s seriously too cold out for him to wait in his car. You and I could make up our dinner some other time.”

Was that another dinner date he proposed?
Haley wasn’t quite sure how to translate Marc’s suggestion.
Dating can be such a guessing game
… and a stressful one at that. In some ways it got better with age, like when guys no longer showed affection by sticking gum in his beloved’s hair or making fun of her braces, which Haley could never understand was a boy’s way of saying, “I like you.” Now in her twenties, it was a different challenge. Instead, it was reading subtle gestures, managing the physical stuff, and determining marriage material. The whole emotional realm of relationships was a complete roller coaster, never an easy one for her to figure out. Yet for some reason, she felt uncharacteristically reassured about Marc.

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 h
er 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.