The Admirer's Secret (13 page)

Chapter 27

A
s the week passed, the talk of the town had been the weekend Ice Festival—but Haley hadn’t gotten irritated with it yet. Heck, she was looking forward to it. This year would be one for the books. She had a date.

As she meandered the perimeter of the Ice Festival grounds, searching the area for anything of interest, she watched volunteers apply tasteful light decorations, set up their booths serving food dishes and pastries, and gather and position the wood for the bonfire. Though in years past Haley had managed to avoid the Ice Festival volunteer draft, this year she stepped forward on her own. Being among the charitable donors of time, Haley’s efforts were dedicated to taking press pictures to accompany the latest articles promoting the big event.   

The last of the setup crew was dispersing. Though it was early evening, a quarter past five o’clock, the winter sky was already dark. Haley packed her camera in its case and waved a quick good-bye to her fellow workers. She nearly floated over dirty slush puddles all the way to her car as she thought about tonight’s date with Marc and mentally selected which outfit to wear for a brisk night of romance. Though typically one wouldn’t consider the sub-freezing temperatures of the outdoor event romantic, the Ice Festival had its charm. The smoky smell of a roaring bonfire and the twinkling stars dotting the sky would be the perfect setting for such an anticipated moment. Yes, tonight would be the night—their first kiss. Something inside her just knew. 

She shook off her soaked boots before stepping into the car. Cranking up the defroster, she targeted the heat on her window, then onto her frozen feet. She still had a couple of hours to spare before tonight’s date. A reminder haunted her, something she had avoided taking care of all week and earlier that day at her final screenplay class. When Allen approached her after class to talk about flight arrangements for tomorrow, she politely brushed him off and told him she’d call him, then rushed out of the classroom. Something inside
her told her not to cancel on him in person, and she heeded the warning.

Over the course of the week he had called her house five times, each time leaving a message about transportation arrangements and what to pack and their itinerary upon arrival. Obviously he still assumed she was going with him, for who in their right mind would pass this up? No one, unless they were an idiot. She didn’t want to be reminded of just how stupid
this might prove to be.

Tomorrow
Allen would leave without her. She had to let him know of her decision—now. Her fingers searched the corners of her purse for her cell phone and she dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello, this is Allen.”

“Hi, Allen. It’s Haley.”

“I assume you’re calling about tomorrow.”
Ugh
. He sounded so excited; she hated to drop the bomb on him like this. “Are you packed?”

“Well, t
hat’s what I am calling about.”

Breathe
, she commanded herself.

“This doesn’t sound too good on my end,” he said with apparent reserve.

Just tell him—fast and painless, like ripping off a Band-Aid
.

She inhaled deeply and swallowed the remnants of uncertainty. “I feel awful doing this, but I’ve thought about your offer and I’ve decided to stay here.”

“Tell me this is a joke.”

“No, no joke. I’m so sorry, Allen, but
Los Angeles isn’t my calling.”

Silence.

“May I ask what changed your mind.” It was more of a statement than a question.

What did it matter
? It was her decision, period.

“A lot of things.”

“Is it because of Marc?”

“Uh
… what?”

“Just tell me the truth, Haley. You’re staying back—or should I say holding yourself back—for a guy. A guy who doesn’t love you.”

Now he stepped way over the line; she had no choice but to put him in his place.

“Allen, I think that’s for me to figure out.” She had to admit, it wasn’t the best start to shutting him up, b
ut she was only getting started. “And yes, I did meet someone that I really care about, and I feel it’s more important right now for me to commit to this relationship instead of to a job. I know that sounds dumb, but it’s just something I have to do. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The moment the words came out, she chastised herself for being so open; she didn’t owe him any explanation. Allen didn’t care about her and Marc; he had his own agenda and was basically judging her decision. Why didn’t she just keep her mouth shut?

“A
job
?” Allen retorted, the word eeking with disgust. “This isn’t just any job, Haley, and you know it. And it’s more than a career path. It’s a dream come true. A dream you only get one chance at living out. A dream that others would die for.”

“I’m sorry, but I hope you understand,” she said finally, not wanting to make
more waves. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Allen. I hope you know that. But my dreams have changed.”

The line was so quiet that she thought perhaps he had already hung up on her. Then he spoke up.

“Do you love Marc?” he asked point-blank.

“I don’t think we should be talking about this.
This is my personal life, Allen.”

“I think we should,” Allen replied. “You wait until the day before we’re supposed to leave to bring this up, and now it’s too late for me to find another student to take your place. You owe me more than a ‘thanks but no thanks,’ Haley.” She wondered how Allen managed to keep his voice calm and monotone while he verbally slapped her.

“Fine. You want an answer, then yes, I do love Marc. And we both want to see where this leads. If I go with you, I’ll never know. Does that make sense to you? I mean, haven’t you ever been in love? If you knew this feeling, you’d know love is worth giving up everything else.”

“Perfect sense,” he hissed. “
And yes, I’ve been in love, but apparently not loved back.” While he was thinking of her while he said it, Allen hoped Haley didn’t pick up on that.

“What’s that supposed to mean—that Marc doesn’t love me back?”

“You want to throw your future away for some guy who will hold you down, who will trample your heart.”

“Excuse me?” That he would imply Marc’s disloyalty infuriated her.

“Look, you’ve made your choice. I don’t want to part on bad terms. I just think you’re making a mistake, that’s all. But mark my words. He will end up hurting you, and you’ll end up with nothing.”

Not only did Allen already cross the line, but he was drawing a whole new one and leaping over it.
That line was so far behind him it was now a dot. If he had been in front her of, she knew her hand would have left a mark on his face for that. Her index finger hovered over the “end” button to hang up on him. But she simply couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to burn bridges with Allen.

“Then it’s my mistake
to make. Look, I need to go. I have a lot going on tonight. Good luck, and have a nice flight.” She waited for his response, and when none was forthcoming, she ended it. “Guess I’ll just say good-bye for the both of us then.”

“Wait.” Allen’s urgent tone stopped her short. “If you don’t come with me, I promise that you will regret your decision for the rest of your life. He’s not worth your sacrificing everything. I can’t let you reject my offer.
Just take tonight to think about it. If by tomorrow you feel the same, then we can part in peace. Though trust me when I say I know what’s best.”

What did Allen know? He was a divorcee with no family and, from what Haley expected after this whole conversation, no real friends. Why should she care what he said? She didn’t, she decided. “I’ll just have to find out for myself what’s best for me.”

“Haley, I’m warning you.”

“There’s nothing more to say.”

“I’ll have the last say, I assure you.”

“You can’t change my mind. It’s over. I have to follow my heart. Thanks for everything, Allen. Good-bye.”

And she hung up.

“Well, guess that’s over with. I think he took it quite well,” she mumbled to herself, easing her rattled nerves and mentally moving on. She could worry the rest of the night about Allen’s threat and ruin a perfectly good day, or pretend it never happened.

Mental delete.

There. It never happened.

After dropping her phone into her purse, she patted the camera bag at her side. Time to finish the last part of Marc’s gift that she planned to give him tonight after the Ice Festival.

The phone call gave her defroster time to clear her windshield of the frozen snow, so one, two, three wipes of her blades emptied the remaining wetness off the side of the glass. Minutes later, she was cruising down
Main Street heading to her favorite spot.

Today, though it was dark by the time she got there, she tiptoed softly to her special wooded haven. Normally she wouldn’t have spent the effort soft-footing it, but something was different this time. She shrugged off the ominous feeling and crouched into position. The camera was wedged tightly in its holder, so it took an extra tug to free it from the confines of the case. Pocketknife ready, she removed the cover from the lens and took aim.

A half-dozen preparatory snaps of frosted tree limbs glistening in the moonlight and white-capped waves soothed her nerves. It felt good to be alone in nature, watching the world through the eye of her camera lens. Though the privacy and serenity didn’t answer her questions or solve her dilemmas, it was the perfect patch for pre-date nerves.

When connecting with nature, time was elusive. Haley noticed how dark it was, too dark to see the face of her watch, which was probably edging toward seven o’clock. She still had to change her clothes and rid herself of any woods
y smell clinging to her body. One last picture before it was time to go.

As she stood up and brought the camera to her eye, a twig snapped sharply behind her, jarring her focus from the image. She whirled around, searching for the source of the noise. First
she scanned the ground for a small animal, but the blackness of the dense woods hid anything that could be lurking within.

Haley
exhaled a nervous sigh and reached for her camera case. It was time to go. Another crack split the silence and Haley strained to listen. Nothing. As she placed the camera in the case, another twig snapped nearby.
Probably nothing but a rabbit,
she told herself. But the sound now was of footsteps approaching as dry leaves crackled underfoot.

She spun around, her eyes attempting to pierce the gloom more frantically this time. The sound seemed heavier, which meant that whatever approached was larger than she originally thought. A rabbit might rustle leaves, but break a limb? And deer typically didn’t approach people, so that narrowed down her list a bit
to coyotes, wolves, or perhaps an errant bear.  

The dense overhang of branches filtered most of the moonlight, giving her little visibility. She strained her ears for breathing, but all she heard was her own heart thumping against her chest.

And then she heard something. A set of lungs, not her own, breathing out of rhythm with hers. Or was it a different sound… not breathing, but a low rumble.

“Go! Get! Shoo!” she finally screamed, hoping to scare whatever it was away.

She waited, listening. She heard no movement, nothing. Then something. The low humming returned. No, it was more like a growl. Definitely a growl. A loud enough, deep enough growl that she knew it was no friendly animal. And it sounded hungry, whatever it was. Her mind raced through possible scenarios—there weren’t large man-eating cats in these parts… that she knew of. So what could be making a noise like
that
?

Oh no
… I’m not going to make it out of here alive, am I?
  

Chapter 28

M
arc simultaneously rapped on the door and rung the doorbell, hoping the combination would somehow work a miracle after knocking and pacing outside for nearly eight minutes already.

“Where are you?” he mumbled as he closed the storm door before retreat
ing. It rattled back at him. 

He walked through snow-dusted mulch along the front of the house. Cupping his hands over his eyes, Marc peered into the living room window through the open blinds. Only a kitchen lamp was on; probably a lamp she always left on at night.

Though he had been habitually early, it was only by fifteen minutes. And as the minutes ticked down, it was closing in on their agreed upon time.

She’s a woman; shouldn’t she be upstairs in her bathroom primping herself by now? Not running around town doing who-knows-what and being late for our date.
He hoped it was okay to call it that.

He walked down the pathway toward the garage and peered inside for any sign of her. Nothing. The garage was empty, the house showed no remnant of life, and they only had fifteen
—no, six minutes now—before he was supposed to pick her up. Was he being unofficially blown off?

Tired of waiting it out in the cold, he returned to his car, started it, and cranked up the heat. He turned on the radio and was met by the twang of country music. It was a love song he had heard hundreds of times, so he clicked it back off. He needed silence to think. And he needed warmth to thaw his feet.

Though he had worn an extra pair of socks tonight to keep his feet comfortable while outdoors at the Ice Festival, it hadn’t occurred to him that the extra layer left no wiggle room in his shoes to generate heat. While hoping that she’d show up and invite him inside so he could take a brief refuge from the cold, Marc blasted the lukewarm vented air onto the floor.

Minutes passed. Marc’s impatience was mounting. The dashboard clock—perpetually an hour behind due to Marc’s forgetfulness at each cycle of daylight savings time—showed that she was now officially late, but he wasn’t quite ready to wave the white flag of surrender. He had a feeling that something had happen
ed, like getting held up, and she’d eventually show. Perhaps she couldn’t get to a phone to call him. Either way, he was willing to wait it out… just a little longer. With two options to pick from, he could stick around waiting in his still lukewarm F-150 hoping that she’d show, or go home and save face if indeed she was trying to avoid him for some unknown reason. 

He chose neither.

Marc’s toes were too cold to wait it out with a malfunctioning radiator. And if she had indeed changed her mind about their plans, there was no way he was letting her get out of it without a face-to-face explanation.

Putting the car in reverse, he rolled out of the driveway and aimed his car toward
the center of town. There was a local corner store down the street where he could pick up some gum—a guy never knew when he might need it on a date—and he’d loiter there with the owner, an old buddy of his, before coming back. Maybe she’d turn up by then. With the neon sign of the convenience store announcing its “open” status up ahead, Marc checked the dash once more. Thirty minutes. He’d give her thirty more minutes.