Her Prince Charming: An Inspirational Romance (15 page)

J
ames pulled away
and answered with an irritated, “What?”

I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but I sobered immediately as James went still beneath me. He murmured, “You’re sure. Okay. Yeah. We’re on our way. Thanks. See you there.”

Moving with deliberate care, he set the phone down on the table and met my eyes with a weighty gaze.

“Sara, we have to go.” He stood, lifting me gently before setting me on my feet.

“What’s wrong? Is it my Mom?” I couldn’t imagine what else could have made him shift so quickly from warmth to concern. If it had been the video, he would have been angry. There was some anger simmering in his green eyes, but mostly he looked worried.

“No, not your Mom.” With one hand on my arm, he ushered me to the bedroom. “We need to get your shoes.” I dug in my heels.

“What’s going on?”

“Get your shoes and I’ll tell you in the car.”

I thought about arguing, but his careful, quiet manner had me freaked out. Standing in front of the closet, I picked out a pair of ballet flats in the same light pink as my knit top and slid them on. I took a minute to brush my hair and refasten it in a pony tail. It was still stiff from all the hair spray I’d used the night before. I needed a shower, but whatever was going on, it didn’t look like a shower was on the agenda.

James had his keys in his hand as I exited the bathroom. To my surprise, he also carried my purse. I’d left it on the chair the night before and then forgotten it. That he’d remembered was sweet, but also a little alarming. What had happened that he was sure I’d need my purse? He hadn’t worried about it before.

His arm wrapped around my shoulders in a protective embrace as we headed down the path from our cottages to the main building. I leaned into him, nerves rising as he remained silent, the serious expression on his face growing more pained with each moment. And more angry off.

“Will you tell me what’s going on now?” I asked, my voice low, as if I could soothe whatever had him upset. He gave me a tight squeeze and shook his head.

“Not yet. I want to tell you in private and we need to get moving. As soon as we’re in the car, I’ll fill you in.”

“But no one is hurt?” I asked. Even though he’d said this wasn’t about her, my mom was still on my mind. Something happening to my mom was the only thing I could think of that would be truly awful at this point.

Unless this had to do with the video. Now that a little time had gone by, more of the implications of the video had hit me. My first thought had been for James, but my practical side had emerged to point out that the video would do me as much damage as it would James. He had the money to rebound if he lost his company. If it got out, I’d probably lose my job. I’d have to leave the city to find another.

“And it’s not the video?” I asked in a small voice. He’d assured me it was taken care of, but the unexpected happened every day. Look at me, snuggled up to James Drake. Unexpected was a massive understatement. He wrapped both arms around me, dropping his head to kiss my hair.

“No, it’s not the video,” he whispered. “Forget about that video. Ryan’s guys found every copy of it. It’s gone. And nothing like that will ever happen again. I promise.”

The vehemence in his voice was both comforting and alarming. My nerves ratcheted up another notch. I knew better than to ask him what was going on again. If he didn’t want to tell me until we got to the car, he wouldn’t.

Endless minutes later, buckled into the passenger seat of his car, I waited for him to break the heavy silence. Now that we were alone, he didn’t drag it out.

“Your house is on fire. Your neighbor was out watering her flowers an hour ago and saw smoke coming from your kitchen. She called the fire department. They’re there now.”

“Who called you?” I asked, my thoughts frozen aside from the most basic questions. My house was on fire. How could my house be on fire? I hadn’t left any candles burning. The electrical systems weren’t new, the bungalow itself was decades old, but I’d had everything checked thoroughly before I’d moved in.

“Ryan.”

“How did Ryan know?” It didn’t matter. What mattered was my house. But I couldn’t quite get my head around that.

“He put cameras on your door. Part of a security system I asked him to install. They got an alert on the fire around the same time your neighbor saw it. If he’d had a chance to put in the full system, he would have known soon enough to catch it.”

“It’s bad?”

James turned to look at me, his eyes concerned. “We’ll know more when we get there.”

I
was numb
. For the rest of the ride I closed my eyes and prayed to God, asking him to watch out for my neighbors. I knew fire could spread quickly and all I could think about was the homes around mine and the families who lived in them.
Please, God, keep them safe and protected from the fire.

I tried to focus on my prayers and not to think about my house, but it was difficult. My house was on fire. If the fire was big enough, the house would be a total loss. Everything I owned was in that house. I had good insurance. Actually, it was great insurance. I wasn’t worried about the money. I was broke, but that was what insurance was for in the first place.

I’d be able to repair any damage, even buy a new house if I had to. But I’d never get back the pictures of my Dad, or my high-school debate team trophy, or Bugsy, the stuffed rabbit I’d had since I was in infant. We’d been inseparable until I started kindergarten. He was threadbare and faded, but I still loved him. He was on a bookcase in my bedroom. Maybe he’d be okay.

The warm pressure of James’s hand around mine yanked my mind out of its useless wanderings. I wouldn’t know how bad it was until we got there. We were only a few minutes away and there was no point in worrying about the damage until I saw it for myself.

Four minutes later, I wished I hadn’t seen it. My cute little bungalow was engulfed in flames. They were stronger by the kitchen, but had spread to every part of the structure I could see. Tears blurred my eyes. James parked the car on the opposite side of the street, three houses down, away from the confusion of fire trucks and flashing lights. He was opening my door a few seconds later.

Ryan was on his way to us by the time we were walking toward the house. He met us in the middle of the street, putting out a hand to prevent us from going any further.

“They’ve blocked the street from the other side,” he said, “We can wait here. They’ll need to talk to you, Sara.”

“What do you know?” James asked, taking my hand and pulling me close to his side.

I leaned into him, needing his strength. My eyes were riveted to the flames shooting through the roof of my little bungalow. I didn’t need to ask, I already knew it was a total loss. My heart squeezed with grief, and my stomach rolled from the acrid scent of my life burning to the ground.

I’d never been particularly materialistic. Maybe it was the accountant in me, always saving money instead of spending it on things I didn’t really need. But this wasn’t a new sweater or a big TV. It was my home. The first I’d ever bought and one I’d expected to have for years to come. It was the first place that was all mine, a haven where I’d felt free to be myself. I’d painted the walls myself, had chosen each pillow and curtain to fit my vision of a cozy refuge. Now it was well on its way to being a pile of ash.

I was so distracted by the fire, I almost missed hearing the word, ‘arson’. My head popped up, and my mind came back into focus. Arson? I didn’t have to work hard to come up with the one person who might have burned down my house.

“Are you sure?” I asked, interrupting Ryan and James’s quiet, intense conversation. Ryan turned his sharp eyes to me.

“There’s an empty gas can in the back yard. The police have it, hopefully he was stupid enough to leave prints. They could smell the gas he spilled on his way in. They’ll have to complete their investigation, but that this point they’re sure it’s arson.”

Dark rage welled in my chest. My brain was screaming, ‘Why?’. It was a stupid question. There was never a ‘why’ for something like this. Greg was a stupid, greedy jerk, and I’d been naive and blind enough to let him into my life. My breath came in choppy waves, my lungs tight with emotion and the caustic smoke clouding the air. James turned me into his chest. Over my head, I heard him say,

“We made a mistake. We should have taken him in last night.”

“Not your call, man. This is on me,” Ryan responded, his voice heavy with regret.

“No. You knew what I would have said, and you did it.”

James rubbed a hand over my back, I think soothing himself as much as me. He was right, if Ryan had called the police the night before, Greg would probably be in jail right now instead of running free and torching houses. I didn’t have it in me to be angry at them. Maybe later. Just then I was too grateful for James’s arms around me to be mad at him.

“Any idea how he got away from Fedorov?” James asked.

“No. I called a guy I know who’s in with Fedorov, but he’s not talking. I did get the feeling that Greg will be lucky if the cops pick him up before Fedorov does.”

“Do they need her for anything? I need to take her home,” James asked.

“No, take her home. I let the lieutenant know she was on her way, but he won’t be able to get to her for a while. He can talk to her later. She’ll be with you?”

“Yes. Just give him my number and we’ll make ourselves available.”

“She up for pressing charges about last night? I gave his name as the likely suspect - I told the lieutenant I was working security for her as a client’s girlfriend and gave him what we know about Greg - but this will all go faster if she makes a statement herself. They can’t hold him on anything related to last night without Sara,” Ryan said.

Reminded that they were talking about me, and I could speak for myself, I lifted my head from where I’d burrowed into James’s chest and said, “Let’s go now, before it gets too late. I have to start getting ready for Christy’s wedding in a few hours.”

“I think your Mom would understand if you missed the wedding, sweetheart,” James said, looking down to meet my eyes.

“I’m not missing the wedding. And I want to press charges against that jerk.”

“We’re leaving,” James said to Ryan, turning us to face his car. He kept me tucked into his side as we walked away from the mess of firetrucks. Behind us, Ryan called out,

“Sara!”

I ducked under James’s arm and faced Ryan. His handsome face was dark with remorse.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I shrugged, not sure what to say. He hadn’t acted out of malice; he’d been looking out for what James would want. It was hard to fault him for trying to be a good friend even though his decision had played a part in Greg setting my house on fire. Not sure what to say, I settled for raising my hand in a wave. Ryan nodded his head and disappeared back into the smoky crowd of firefighters working to contain the blaze before it could spread to the other houses.

James was opening my car door when I heard my name shouted across the street. I turned to see Mrs. Spencer bearing down on me, her teacup terrier, Tracy, tucked into the crook of her arm. Short, scrawny, and tanned a deep, nut brown, she vibrated with energy. It wasn’t the crisis, Mrs. Spencer was a live wire all the time. If she was awake, she was on the go.

“Where have you been? And who is this?” She narrowed her eyes at James, her gaze as suspicious as if he’d been holding a Molotov cocktail and a match.

“This is James Drake,” I said, stepping a few inches away from James. “He’s… we’re… I’ve been with him.” I flushed a violent red. “Not
with
him. Staying at his resort.”

James offered Mrs. Spencer his hand. She took it, but barely spared him a glance.

“I thought you were home,” she said flatly. “I couldn’t get in the back door. I thought you were caught in there until the firefighters told me the house was empty.”

She didn’t sound concerned, but after a few years of living next door to her, I knew that she was hiding her true feelings. If she’d chased me down in the street, she must have been terribly worried. Knowing she would hate it, but not sure how else to reassure her, I leaned down and pulled her into a hug. She leaned into me for a single breath. Yep, I’d scared her. Guilt welled even though it wasn’t my fault.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Spencer. Do you remember Greg? My ex-boyfriend?” She nodded, her eyes shifting harder with dislike. I went on. “He attacked me last night and stole my car. I had to take a cab to the hospital for this.” I lifted my bandaged arm. “James took me back to the resort and I only just found out about the fire.”

“And the one in the suit? Why did he say he was working for you?” Mrs. Spencer gestured toward the firetrucks in front of my house where Ryan had disappeared. She had ears like a bat and hated missing out. I wasn’t surprised she knew so much of what was going on.

“He works for James in security. He was helping with Greg.” Not a great explanation, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. Mrs. Spencer sniffed as if smelling something revolting.

“I never liked him. He kept parking with his back tire on my lawn. You think he came back and did this?” I nodded. “And what about him?” She gestured to James. “How does he fit into this? I would have noticed that car in your driveway, young lady. Are you spending the night with a man you just met?”

I flushed even harder, a fiery hot red.

“No! No. You know I wouldn’t do that. I’m staying at Drake Gardens for the wedding and we met and-”

I looked up at James in helpless embarrassment. He aimed his most charming smile at Mrs. Spencer and stepped in to save me.

“Sara and I are dating. I would have said you’d be seeing my car in front of her house more often, but given what’s happened, I think she’ll have to make other arrangements.”

“And where do you live?” she asked, studying him with still suspicious eyes. With a straight face, he said,

“I live at the Drake Gardens.”

“You’re not taking Sara off to live in a resort with you. She’s a good girl. And she doesn’t need to get tied up with another man who plays fast and lose.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Mrs. Spencer went to church with me every Sunday, but she also met her cronies on Wednesdays for karaoke and closed down the bar, taking a cab home. She had a far more exciting, and questionable, social life than I did.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Mrs. Spencer,” James told her. “I have the best of intentions where Sara is concerned.” She drew in a breath, probably to protest, when I jumped in.

“He lives at the Drake Gardens because he owns it,” I said. A light came into her eyes, and I inwardly groaned.

“So you can take care of her?” she asked James, ignoring my second, vocal groan. James, still completely serious, nodded.

“I can. She won’t have to worry about anything.”

“Good. Make sure she has some fun. The girl works too much, never gets out to have a good time.”

I rolled my eyes to the sky, partly embarrassed and partly touched. James, apparently ready to get going, turned the conversation to business.

“Are you taken care of? Did they tell you to evacuate?” he asked, pulling out his phone. She eyed his phone, but nodded.

“I’m fine. Myrtle is coming by to pick me up. I’ll stay with her until this is cleaned up.”

James slipped his phone back into his pocket and wrapped his arm around me once more. “If you’ll excuse us, Sara needs to get ready for her sister’s wedding, and we’re stopping at the police station first so she can press charges.”

“Go,” she said, stepping back to clear our way with regal forbearance. “I’ll expect a dinner invitation by the end of the week.”

“You’ll have it,” James said over shoulder, steering me back to the car.

“You’ll regret that later,” I said, thinking of Mrs. Spencer and her yappy little dog in James’s elegant cottage.

“No, I won’t,” he said, his voice tight. Glancing up at him, I realized that despite his easy manner with my neighbor, and his gentleness with me, he was furious.

I gave Mrs. Spencer a wave over my shoulder, making an effort to avoid the view of my burning house. From the corner of my eye, I saw that the firefighters seemed to be getting it under control. I hoped it didn’t set any of the other houses on fire. My own stuff had to be a loss; what hadn’t burned would be too smoke damaged to salvage.

No matter how fast they put out the rest of the fire, it wouldn’t save anything. Suddenly exhausted, I sat back in the plush leather seat, wishing I had time to lay down and take a nap. James slid into the driver’s seat and took my hand before he started the car, and we left my latest disaster behind.