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Authors: Pamela Crane

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BOOK: The Admirer's Secret
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With only six months to go before wedded bliss, he brought her out of her
urban comfort zone into rural America to house shop. When she came up with excuse after excuse about what each house lacked, Marc read between the lines. Time apart confirmed his suspicions that she wanted a different lifestyle than what Westfield could offer, and the wedding was postponed, per her request. But Marc kept planning their future together, unaware that what had started as physical distance was growing into emotional separation.  

His jaw clenched at the recollection.

While they had maintained a semblance of a relationship, the ex decided it was time to see other people… without Marc’s knowledge. His surprise visit to Buffalo caught her out to dinner with another man: their accountant. Never would he forget what he saw. Back then Marc’s heart was torn to shreds as he watched her from outside the frosted window laughing and holding Mr. Bald-chubby-and-wealthy’s hand. Marc’s pride was emasculated as he remembered seeing his own warm breath on the cold pane until it eventually clouded his view, and he turned away, never to look back. It was all he needed to solidify his decision. He never called her from that moment on, and she apparently didn’t miss a beat, for his phone never rang with an apology or a good-bye.

Marc settled with the realization that both of them had changed.
Or maybe neither of us had ever changed.
He wasn’t the ambitious city type he pretended to be, and she would never be the down-to-earth sweetheart he wanted. It was all a farce, and only time and a single night of betrayal revealed the relationship for what it was. But it didn’t matter now. He was moving on.

He had refused divine direction when he first pursued Ms. Wrong, and eventually something had to give: trusting his heart
’s intuition or blind love.
Luckily my heart won out, though by force
, Marc realized. Sure, it hurt to let her go, but somehow he made it through day by day, and now he was standing in this very moment enjoying winter’s frosty beauty from his back porch allowing Lady Love back into his life. She had a funny way of sneaking up on him. He just hoped he was ready for her. 

Wind nipped at his cheeks, and he felt his fingers start to tingle. He would happily endure any cold just to be with her right now. He imagined her standing next to him, taking in the view of the majestic blue beauty in his backyard. Though it was technically a lake, the average human eye couldn’t see the other side—only with the help of binoculars. Marc captured the most grandiose sunsets from his back porch; deep reds and oranges splattered off the water to create an expanse of never-ending color.

He’d never gotten used to the breathtaking sight. Its splendor seemed to change daily. Yesterday the water reflected a gray-blue, but today it appeared a little brighter. His father always told him that the lake was as inconsistent as the wind. No two days on the lake were alike. His father was right. In the deepest, coldest part of winter, when lapping waves froze over, even then it would transform overnight, as if completely recreated.

Sun sliced through tree branches, resting on Marc’s flushed face. He closed his eyes and embraced the concentrated heat that contrasted against the bitter air. And then he pictured
her
with the sun silhouetting her face. Their chance meeting hung over him the past few days, and he recalled her laugh to the forefront of his thoughts. He had no idea when he’d see her again, but something told him it would be soon. 

“I hope this works out,” he whispered in a raspy morning voice. Even today, a chilly Friday morning in the depths of winter, he took in every second
of his wonder and held it close, as if it would flutter away in an instant, as precious moments often did.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Entry 6941

Can’t talk long. Gotta shower before work. Woke up late again. Another restless night. I got another letter yesterday—that makes three this week. Every moment of every day he’s there, in the innards of my mind, luring me to discover him. Relentless. Do you think it’s coincidence that it points to Marc? The day I first met Marc the letters started. His note shared the same handsome penmanship. Coincidence, or a figment of my desire? I really want the letters to be from him. I think I’d actually be disappointed if they weren’t. How amazing it would be to know that he knows me so deeply, so purely. Yet it’s also a bit scary. Is it possible for anyone to know another so well? I think back to all of the secrets we keep, and it’s frightening to imagine another with the capability of searching the catalog of our minds, accessing all those moments we hoped to take with us to the grave. Even Dad didn’t know Mom’s secrets. She took them with her to his grave. But she couldn’t tell him. It’s not something a husband wants to find out before he dies. Though I wonder if knowing would have changed anything.

 

A
fter sleeping through her alarm, Haley had gotten off to a bad start Friday morning. She managed to speed-shower, speed-dress, and speed-eat a pop tart on her way out the door without realizing she wore two unmatched socks. It wasn’t until she stepped into the car when her pant legs rose up enough to show mismatched socks, but there was no time to change. She had three minutes to clock in at work with five minutes’ worth of town traffic and stop signs to get through.

Late for work for the second time that week, Haley dodged every possible red light on her way to the office. She
had timed the lights perfectly from years of making this drive. When she did finally pull into the law firm’s eight-car parking lot, she recognized the car of her best friend and anticipated a juicy morning gossip session. She couldn’t wait to spread the news.

Without makeup and with her hair still wet, Haley made a pit stop to the bathroom
to avoid frightening her co-workers with her ghostly appearance. Once presentable, Haley walked the short corridor to where two other legal secretaries sat typing away, the click-click-clicking the only sound in the hushed office.

After grabbing a cup of black, slightly burned coffee from the lunchroom, Haley stopped to chat with her cubicle mate Shelly. She debated getting right to the details, then decided to play coy.

“Hey, Shelly. TGIF, right?” From the cubicle entrance Haley greeted the adjacent secretary who, four years ago, took Haley under her wing at the firm. Shelly had been like a mother figure to all the new employees—a very young and very hip mother—since she had been there since the firm first opened. Though Shelly’s slight smile creases showed she was nearing her late thirties, the woman dressed trendier than some teens, and her curvy figure pulled it off well, too. 

“Yeah. Though I have a feeling it’s going to be a slow day. Practically no one’s in today. I already went through the paperwork for all our cases and it looks like we’re all caught up.” Shelly’s ring-adorned hand
beckoned Haley closer. “So what’s been going on with you, birthday girl?”

“Hey—hold off on that birthday talk. Not until tomorrow. Let me bask in my youth while I still have it.” Haley chided with a laugh.

“Got any romantic plans for the big day?”

“Not unless you count dinner and a movie with my mom romantic.
Blah.”

“I admit I’m a little surprised. By the way you’ve been smiling, I would have thought you’d had a lover on the side.”

“No, not yet.” Haley tossed an embarrassed sideways glance, a total giveaway and Haley knew it.

“Suuuure. You’ve been awfully chipper the past few days. What’s going on?” Lids overdone with silver eye-shadow batted thick lashes as Haley watched Shelly’s eyes examine her a little further. Haley took a step back before the impending interrogation would begin. “Wait a second.” Shelly beat her to it.

“I better get back to my desk,” Haley instantly rebutted, which only egged Shelly on.

“I think I know what’s going on. You meet a
guy or something?”

Haley’s jaw dropped. How did Shelly know? Was it
that
obvious? Feeling her cheeks and neck blush, Haley knew there was no escaping the questions. Like a shark, Shelly never gave up her prey, especially when it came to gossip.

“Well, since you mention it, yes. I did happen to meet someone
a couple weeks ago, but it’s nothing really.”

Shelly’s eyes opened wide as she scooted her rolling chair closer to where Haley stood. “Whatever! Tell me all the details!”

“Not much to tell, I’m afraid. He helped me with my computer twice now and left me a note that gave the impression that he liked me. I mean, it was a really sweet note.” She thought better of mentioning the other letters. They’d remain her little secret.

“What? How could you not tell me this until now?”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

“Hello? This is a big deal! You have an admirer and never even mentioned it to me,” Shelly scolded, then quickly added with a wide smile, “What’s he like?”

“Absolutely gorgeous, to start with,” Haley preened. “And his eyes! They’d make a girl melt! Plus he’s got the most charming personality—funny, sweet, smart. He’s seriously perfect.”

“Sounds like it. So are you going to see him again?”

If Haley had a nickel for every time she thought that very same question…

“That’s the thing. We didn’t formally exchange numbers, so I don’t know what the next step is. I mean, I know his work number, bu
t I hate to call him. I’ll feel… I dunno, weird. Do you think I should call him?”

“Hmm.” Shelly released a contemplative sigh. “I’m not really one for the girls making the move, so I’d say no. He knows where you live, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I really acted like I liked him. I mean, it was all so quick and we were flirting one second and then he was done fixing my computer, and the next thing I know he’s gone and I found the note at my desk later that night. I just… I think I may have let him leave thinking I wasn’t really interested. So I kind of want to call him to fix any wrong signals I may have accidentally sent.”

“Haley!”
The tone accompanying that single word held the reprimand of a hundred words.

“I know, I know. Please, I’m already mad enough at myself for possibly screwing this up. Needless to say, I doubt if he’d ever come by again after that.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to find a way to let him know you reciprocate the interest… without pursuing, of course.”

“Got any ideas, Doctor Phil?” Haley asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Get creative. You’ll think of something.”

Haley doubted that
she would. Guys weren’t her strength.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to let too much time pass, lest Marc forget about their entire encounter. Haley remembered something about a week or two-week response time in the “common sense dating rulebook,” but she tossed it aside as yet another aspect of men that she never quite understood. The only thing she did know was that she was crazy about Marc and wanted him to know it… without coming across as crazy, of course. Something subtle, something cute, and something that would tell him “I like you” without saying “I’m desperate.”

The rest of the day dragged on. With her boss out of the office on an early weekend, there were only two incoming phone calls—one being a wrong
number and the other confirming her lunch order—and there was barely enough paperwork to keep her busy for more than three hours.

So, sometime after lunch but before her afternoon break, Haley rummaged around looking for something productive to fill up the rest of the day, but came up empty-handed after catching up with all of the filing, callbacks, and dictation transcriptions.

Four hours left until it was time to clock out… how could she use up the time? 

Then it struck her. There was
something
she could do…

Grabbing her yellow legal pad, she tapped her pen in thought, then began to scribble something:

 

Dear Marc,

 

That was as far as she got for the first twenty minutes. It hadn’t been so difficult when she was writing to a faceless stranger. Now that he had an identity—and a handsome identity—it felt so thorny scripting the perfect letter.

A dance between confession and restraint.

After nearly three hours of draft after draft, Haley found a happy medium that she could live with. Yes, it was perfect, saying all the words that she was too shy to say in person, but not
saying too much. Oh, how much more confident she felt on the other end of a pen.

All that she needed now was the courage to mail it.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

A
pparently Gabrielle had found the missing letter.

Then read it.

Then left Haley four messages before Haley got home from work. The first one wished her happy birthday. The second reiterated their plans for dinner. The third one talked about the movies showing. And the fourth one just rambled. Though Gabrielle hadn’t specifically mentioned the letter, it was all over her voice that it was bothering her. judging by the motherly over-protective warning tone checking up on her. Haley recognized it well.

Haley
couldn’t avoid her any longer. And Haley didn’t want this conversation hanging over her all weekend either.

“Hello?” Gabrielle answered on the first ring.

“Mom, I got your messages.”

“It’s about time you called me back.”

“Sorry, been busy. So… what’s going on?”

“I just wanted to make sure we’re on for your birthday dinner tonight. That’s all.”

“Would you stop lying to me? I know you didn’t just call four times about my birthday dinner. So what is it? Just tell me.”

Silence. Uncomfortable silence.

Then finally, “Haley, honey, we need to talk. In person. This isn’t a conversation for the telephone. Can you come over now and we can talk in the car on the way to Erie?”

And it just kept getting better.

“I’m guessing you read the letter,” Haley said.

“You know about that?” Gabrielle didn’t know about a lot of
Haley’s secrets.

“Yes, I know. So did you read it?” Confession time.

“Yes, I did.”

“So you invaded my privacy and now you want me to come over there so you can lecture me about it and ruin my birthday?”

“Well, no. Yes—” Gabrielle fumbled for the right answer, but there was none. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, honey.”

“Then why are you making a big deal about this?”

“Haley, this
is
a big deal! I know I promised to butt out, but after everything that you’ve been through, don’t you think it’s time you opened your eyes to what this is really about?”

There was no way Haley was going to dare subject herself to hours of her mother’s doomsday warnings. “And what’s it about, Mom? Go ahead and tell me.”

“It’s about you. And your need to feel fulfilled. But this isn’t the way to do it, honey.”

“Isn’t that what life is all about? Fulfillment? Love? Relationships?”

“Real relationships, Haley, not like this. And of course I want you to be fulfilled and happy, but this isn’t fulfillment. It’s a temporary holding cell for your heart.”

“What do you know about my heart, or what my heart needs? Look, I’m not going over there so that you can try to talk me out of find
ing love—even if the way I’m going about it is a little… unconventional.” Unconventional. Now
there
was the word of the day. Even Haley knew it was a simplification of the truth as she said it, but it didn’t matter. Sometimes unconventional was exactly what a girl like Haley needed. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal in the first place.”

“Because, with your past, Haley
…”

And there it was. Gabrielle whipped out the “painful past” card. Her default whenever Haley didn’t conform to her wishes.

“I can’t believe you are going there! If you want to talk, Mom, talk about today, not yesterday.” Forget the whole
honor thy mother
thing. She had to put her foot down if she was going to prevent this conversation from getting out of hand.

“Need I remind you of what happened?” There was that apocalyptic voice again.

“What—are you referring to Jake?” Jake, meaning Haley’s childhood friend. A friend who had been there for her through most of her dad’s treatment until… Jake was gone. “From, like, a million years ago?”

“Yes, that, and
… well,
you
.”

Haley felt the accusation in that one word:
you
. It stung, spreading its toxic venom, poisoning her body with the memory all over again. As if it was Haley’s fault what happened with Jake. As if she personally forced him to tie the rope around his neck, tighten the knot, then hang himself from a beam in his attic.  

“Mom, how can you blame me for that? I was a kid.”

“I’m not blaming you, honey, but we both know that there were a lot of surrounding issues with that situation and I don’t want to see you go through that again. I think you’ve been through enough, don’t you?”

Ain’t that the truth
. First Jake’s suicide, then her dad’s death—all in the same year. Right around her birthday. That’s what it was all about. Her stupid birthday, the anniversary of her father’s death. It wasn’t a simple request to stay away from strangers who left anonymous letters in her mailbox. It was a request to stop living. To stop being. To stop having birthdays and memories and emotions.

No, that wasn’t a fair request.

Haley had spent too much of her life not living. Finally she had a chance at her fairy tale ending, the one they make romance movies about, and her mother wanted to strip it away using a streak of bad luck from the distant past as her rationale.

“Mom, Jake committed suicide. I had nothing to do with it. I’ve moved on with my life, and I’m not going to live in the shadow of what happened anymore. It’s time to let go.”

“Can you really let go, Haley?”

Yes. No. Maybe.

“It’s different now. I’m different. I don’t want to talk about this again. End of story.”

But it wasn’t the end of the story, really. Gabrielle knew it. And Haley knew it too
. Secrets were meant to be revealed.

BOOK: The Admirer's Secret
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