by Krista Lakes
He unbuttoned his white dress shirt and slipped it off of his shoulders, tossing it onto the bed. It was still early in the day, but he already felt accomplished. He had just found the woman that would take care of him during his vacation in the States.
He shook his head and let out a sigh of relief. Valetta had almost insisted on canceling the trip when his original trip assistant had fallen ill, but Marco had managed to talk her out of it. He had assured her that an American girl could do the job.
He thanked his lucky stars that he'd found Sabrina. He had thought it would be easy at first, to find the perfect girl with all of the right qualities, the most important of them being that she couldn’t know who Marco was. But that was a quality that was harder to find than he had imagined, being that he was the Prince of Orsino Island. They'd interviewed what felt like hundreds of girls and he was about to cancel the trip, but, luckily he had found her.
Sabrina, what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, he thought as he plopped down onto the bed and put his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a relaxed sigh. His new assistant, Sabrina, whom he had only quickly greeted after hiring her for the job, was still fresh on his mind.
He couldn’t shake the image of her sweet smile, her smooth and silky auburn hair, or the way her blue eyes lit up the room. He knew the moment he laid eyes on her from behind that two-way mirror that she was the perfect candidate. There was something innocent and magical about her, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Whatever it was, though, he liked it.
He found himself looking forward to traveling with her. Every one of her job referrals had raved about her and how wonderful and easy to work with she was. He always wondered how truthful people were when they were picked by the applicant, so before this interview, he had sent Valetta to her waitress job to ask the other waitresses when Sabrina wasn't working. The only negative thing said about her was that she was too eager to pick up extra hours and she made the other waitresses look bad because of it.
He checked his watch and did the mental math to figure out the time change. His father, King Carlo of Orsino, should be back from the doctor by now. He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his cell, punching in the digits to his father's personal line. His stomach twisted slightly as he waited.
“Hello?” King Carlo answered, his voice gruff and scratchy.
“Hello, Papa,” Marco replied happily, then changed the tone of his voice. “Father. How are you feeling?”
“I’m well, son,” he said. “Or at least, I feel well.”
“How did the doctor's appointment go?” Marco said. The tightness in his stomach spread to his chest. “Is it cancer?”
“They’ve run three kinds of tests so far, including an MRI and blood test,” the father told his son. He paused before delivering the bad news. “They’re certain that the tumor is cancerous.”
Marco sat down hard on the bed as his legs gave out. They had both known for several weeks that the diagnosis would likely be cancer, but Marco had stayed hopeful the entire time. It seemed he had been hopeful for no reason.
“What now?” Marco asked. He was glad his voice didn't falter. He would be strong for his father.
King Carlo let out a slow, difficult breath. “I have another doctor appointment soon to discuss the options.”
“Options?” Hope flickered in Marco's chest. Perhaps this cancer wasn't as bad as they had feared.
“Yes.” He coughed for a moment before continuing to answer. “There are a few different things they can try. From what I’ve learned, surgery is the first thing they like to attempt, but surgery is not always possible.”
“What do you mean it's not always possible?” Marco asked.
“It depends on the size of the tumor and its exact location, as to whether or not they can remove it surgically,” King Carlo explained patiently.
“What if they can’t?” Marco's voice almost cracked with the question.
“Then they’ll probably start talking about chemo and radiation. And even if I do qualify for the surgery, I may have to face those things anyway. Surgery often isn’t the only thing that needs done. It’s likely just the first step of a long journey of recovery.”
A ball of anxiety crept into Marco’s gut. His father had always been so strong and vital. He had always been a giant in Marco's eyes. There was nothing the king of a country couldn't do, couldn't conquer. He was Carlo the Great. The very idea that his own body was destroying him from the inside out terrified Marco.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Marco said. He wished he were a small child again so King Carlo could pick him up and spin him around to make him laugh. That used to make everything better.
“For what?” he said with a raspy chuckle. “You certainly didn’t give me cancer. I mean sure, you were a difficult teenager, but that isn't what did this to me.”
Marco managed a half smile, happy to see that his dad hadn’t lost his sense of humor.
“When do you see the doctor again?” Marco asked.
“They haven’t made an appointment yet.” His father sighed, sounding more tired than Marco remembered. “It will be soon, though. They tell me that the earlier they do the surgery, the better the prognosis.”
“I will come home, Papa,” Marco said. “I don’t need to stay in the States for this vacation. I should be there for you. I should speak to the doctors.”
“Nonsense,” King Carlo said. “I’m excited for you to get away from the island for a while. It’ll be good for you to do some traveling and have some fun before you take the crown. I don’t want you to worry about me or my meeting with the doctors to discuss surgery. I will be fine. You needn't worry.”
“I am worried, though. I can’t help it,” Marco said. “You are my father.”
“I appreciate the concern, my son,” he said gently. “But even if you came home, there’s nothing you can do. You are not a doctor, Marco. I don’t want this disease to end up a burden for both of us. Let’s not give the cancer that kind of power over our lives. You’ve been wanting to take this trip for a long time and there’s no way that I’m letting my illness effect your plans.”
“Are you sure?” Marco said. He stood from the bed and began to pace across the plush carpet. “I feel like I should be there, even if there’s nothing that I can do.”
“Marco, you’d be doing both of us a disservice for coming home early. You’d ruin your trip and I’d be angry at you for doing so,” King Carlo replied. “Just stay in the states and enjoy yourself.”
Marco sighed. He knew that there was nothing he could do, but he hated being an ocean away from his father during this. He knew being in the room with the doctors wouldn't change the outcome, but he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.
“I know you are thinking of coming home,” Carlo said, as if reading Marco's mind. “If you do, I will be quite angry. You must go on this trip. That's a royal command, Marco.” For a moment, Marco felt the old strength that his father once had creep into his voice.
Marco sighed. His father only ever said that if he was serious. “I want you to know that I’m only a phone call away. If you need me back at the palace, I’ll drop everything and get on a plane immediately.”
“You are a good son,” Marco's father told him. Marco's chest swelled with pride at his father's compliment.
“Thank you, Father,” Marco said. He stopped pacing and instead gazed out the large window at the city below.
King Carlo cleared his throat. “So tell me, Marco, how did the interviews go today? Did you find someone to help you while on your sabbatical?”
“I did,” Marco said. Sabrina’s face flashed into Marco’s mind.
“And...?”
“Her name is Sabrina. She’s from Memphis, Tennessee, born and raised. In fact, she lives just a few miles from the hotel where I’m staying now.” Marco couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice and his father recognized it immediately.
“She’s
attractive, I take it,” the old man said.
“Did I give it away?” Marco asked. He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled slightly.
“You always do.”
“Well, you’re right. She is very attractive,” he told his father. He couldn't stop the smile as she pictured her face. “There’s something about her that intrigues me. She’s not flashy and vain like most of the women I encounter. She seems simple, but a good kind of simple. There’s an innocence in her that I find myself drawn to.”
The king chuckled. “She sounds lovely, Marco. But don’t let your stepmother hear of your attraction to her. Magdalena would not be pleased to hear you’ve taken a liking to someone who is not royal blood. You know how she feels about commoners.”
“I don't plan on marrying her after just hiring her, but I wouldn’t tell Magdalena anything of the sort regardless,” Marco said. “This conversation is between you and I, and hopefully it will stay that way.”
“Of course, son. You can have confidence that our conversations our private. I just wanted to tell you to not mention anything about Sabrina to your stepmother, that’s all.”
“Understood, Father,” Marco said, with genuine respect in his response. “I always appreciate your council.”
“And I always appreciate yours as well,” King Carlo said.
Marco opened his mouth to tell his father more about his plans, but it was then that his father began to cough. Long, deep and bone-shaking coughs that worried Marco more than he cared to say. The specter of death rattled through these coughs and it terrified the prince.
“I hate to end our conversation, but I’m a level of exhausted that I haven’t felt in a long time,” King Carlo said once he caught his breath. “I’m going to go take a bath and try to get some sleep tonight. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course, Father. Please, go and get some rest. I’ll be thinking of you.” Marco frowned and felt guilt lay upon him again. “And don’t forget, I’m only a phone call away. If you need anything from me, I’ll be at the palace within twelve hours. Faster if I can manage it.”
“Thank you, Marco.” King Carlo's voice wheezed as he took a breath in. “Have a good vacation and stay in touch. I’ll let you know what I find out from the doctors about the surgery. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”
“I’ll keep them crossed forever, if that’s what it takes,” Marco said.
“Good boy,” his father said, before hanging up the phone.
Marco set his cell onto the nightstand next to the bed. Then he drew in a long, slow breath and tried to relax. His father’s cancer diagnosis shook him to the core.
He hoped so badly that things would turn out okay. He couldn’t imagine a world without his father in it. King Carlo was Prince Marco’s greatest influence. He was a powerful and honest man, and through example, had taught Marco to be the same way. He had shown his son that honor was not just a word but also a way of life. He was not only a good king, but a good man.
I pray for you, Papa. I pray that this cancer goes away and that you can live the rest of your days without worry, Marco thought.
He turned from the window and walked toward the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. He thought of ordering a drink up to his room to help settle his nerves, but decided not to. Soon, he would just ask Sabrina to do this, and he wouldn't have to deal with room service or remembering how much was considered proper to tip here.
Despite his worry over his father, the image of Sabrina still managed to stay at the forefront of his mind. It gave him relief and he found himself smiling at the thought of her.
“What is it about Sabrina?” he asked himself, while drying his face off with a towel.
There was no way that he could have denied it. He was attracted to the new hire. In and of itself, this was no big surprise. Marco was a wealthy playboy who lived in a palace on an island. He often met beautiful women he was attracted to. And just as often, he landed these ladies in bed. But this girl was different. She felt unique.
The idea of Sabrina in his bed made a fire grow inside of him. He immediately wondered what her figure looked like underneath her clothes, pondering if her innocence would be something that disappeared once she was beneath the sheets. A surge of excitement filled him as he let his imagination run wild. He pictured her fair skin, supple breasts and firm behind. He thought about what it would feel like to touch all of it, bring his lips to her, shower her in attention.
But he found he wasn't satisfied with this fantasy. He wanted to know what would make her smile. He wanted to know how to make her eyes dance with joy as much as he wanted to pleasure her body. It was strange for him to think these things, and he wasn't quite sure what it meant.
“I need to lay down for a bit and close my eyes,” Marco whispered to himself, as he made his way back to the bed.
The long flight to Memphis had taken its toll and jet lag had managed to finally catch up with him. As he laid down, he found himself shocked at how preoccupied with Sabrina he was becoming. He hadn’t experienced anything like it before. The simple little Memphis girl had stolen his attention within the first few seconds of their meeting. For the first time in a long time, Prince Marco found himself unsure of what to do.
As Marco crawled under the covers of the bed and relaxed his head into the over-stuffed pillow, he realized that there wasn’t much he could do right in that moment anyway. But he made a goal. He’d figure out how to pursue Sabrina in a way that was more serious, and gentler, than his usual one-night-stand ploys. Surely he could think of something.
Maybe I’ll show her some light flirtation and some generosity and see how she reacts. We could always go to some nice dinners and some fun activities when we’re in New York. I'll show her that I'm not just interested in a quick fling. I want to get to know this girl. She’s different. So very different, he thought.
He closed his eyes and drifted into a half-sleep. He began to dream. In his dream, he was home, walking around his elegant room at the palace on Orsino Island. He walked up to the window and looked out into the courtyard, where his father was playing polo with his friends. King Carlo looked happy and healthy in the dream. He was strong, like Marco remembered him being when he was a child. Warm sunlight poured over him as he stepped a little closer to the window. It caused him to squint and look away, back toward his bed.
There was a girl in his bed, but he couldn’t tell who it was because she was facing away from him and the covers were pulled up to her shoulders. The only thing he was able to see was her auburn hair. He reached for the covers, curious to see the beauty in his bed. For some reason, this didn't feel like a recent conquest. It felt like this was how it had always been.
It felt safe and warm.
His hand brushed against the blanket and suddenly the image blurred and he woke. He lay in bed, wishing he could have seen the woman's face. Who could it be that would make his dream feel so content and calm?
His dream had felt short, but powerful. It left him with a warm feeling in his chest. He rolled over, hoping to fall back into the dream and find the girl again, but found that he was no longer tired. He lay there, letting his mind drift and his thoughts wander.
The image of the blonde girl in his bed at the Palace, the one from the dream, kept coming back into his mind clear as a photograph. The auburn hair was his only clue as to her identity. Was it a premonition or just his current preoccupation with the new hire? He couldn’t be sure.
Chapter 3
Sabrina
Sabrina was on cloud nine as she left the conference room and walked toward the lobby of the hotel. There was a beat of exhilaration and energy in her step, now that the interview was over and she had landed the job of a lifetime.
Things are turning around for me, she thought. This opportunity is going to be the new beginning that I've needed for a long time. I can't believe how things are coming together right now.
She flashed a confident smile toward the young m
an working at the hotel's front desk, before striding out of the entrance and into the parking lot. She found her old beat up Toyota Corolla sitting lonely at the edge of the parking lot. She hopped in and turned the key.
The engine jerked and then rumbled to a start, causing the worn belts to squeal in agony. While the engine warmed, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed her mother, Anna. It rang four times before she finally picked up.
“Hello?” her mother said. Her tone made it sound like Sabrina had interrupted her, which was highly likely, since she was always busy.
“Hey, Mom,” Sabrina said, her smile from the successful interview still plastered across her face. “What are you up to?”
“Hi, honey,” she said, her southern accent think and warm like honey. “I actually just walked in the door and was about to clean up the house a bit.”
“Were you teaching today?” Sabrina asked.
“Yes. Ms. Donahue, the first grade teacher over at Belmont, called in sick again today,” Anna said. “But it's great, because I'll be able to get a lot more hours in. With your father not working, I need to make as much money as possible. I'm sad that Ms. Donahue is ill, but glad to have the extra hours.”
“Are you done for the day?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Anna said, with an exaggerated sigh. “I've got an after school meeting after my shift.”
“You're a substitute teacher, though,” Sabrina said. “I thought you didn't have to attend those meetings.”
“Normally that's the case, but I've been putting in so many hours over there that they have asked me to participate anyway. I'm practically a full time teacher with how many shifts I've put in this year,” she said. “But it's not a bad thing that they want me to come to the meeting. They're paying me to show up, so I'm not complaining. I'll just grab a cup of coffee on my way there.”
“Please take care of yourself, Mom.” Sabrina pleaded. “I know we need the income, but it's not worth risking your health. I don't want you to work yourself to death. We'll figure things out, one way or the other. You know that.”
