Maybe the note will say that Adam is coming for me. Maybe he’ll state that I belong to him, and that he’ll drain me of each drop of my blood for refusing him. But instead, it simply reads, “You’re spectacular. Always remember it.”
Which gives me a warm glow, that brings about a smile.
And at that exact moment, the phone rings, and I scream.
The little display screen reads “BLOCKED NUMBER,” but I know exactly who it is. And I answer it without hesitation.
“This is Meri …”
“Technically, I didn’t lie. I said you wouldn’t see me again, but I never said I wouldn’t send flowers. Or call.”
His voice is warm and smooth. It sounds like music coming from the other end of the line, a welcome relief from the dull environment around me, which is full of irritations.
“You work fast. I’m impressed. They’re very beautiful.”
“I figured I owed you something for ruining your weekend.”
“You didn’t ruin it, exactly. You just threw me for a bit of a loop. But at least you know how to keep a girl on her toes. And I have to admit, I’m a sucker for getting flowers. No one ever sends them to me.”
“Then I’ll send you some every day.”
“No, you won’t,” I say, harshly. “If you do, I’ll hang up on you and never talk to you again. Or maybe, I’ll stake you.”
He laughs.
“Does that mean you’ll talk to me again? Or better yet, have dinner with me?”
I smile. I can’t help but to think about the implications of seeing him. And it gives me a small jolt of excitement, to know that I’m talking to a supernatural creature. What would the boring people at Creative Quorum think if they knew that I’m dating a vampire?
“To tell you the truth, I half-expected you to show up on the rooftop again.”
“Did you go looking for me?”
Once again, I regret my words as soon as I’ve said them. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m slowly falling victim to his charms. And I can’t help but to wonder if he heard my message, and just isn’t saying it.
“Yeah. I did go up there looking for you.”
“I won’t ever go up there again. Not without your permission.”
“We might be able to negotiate that one.”
Interesting. Maybe this means I do have some pull in the relationship.
“Tell me something. Do you have any powers over my mind? To influence me?”
“Over you, no. Your mind is very difficult for me to read on more than a surface level. To read at all, actually. It’s what intrigued me about you at the bar. It would take a great deal of trust on your part for me to go deeper, if that’s even possible. And it would be yours to control.”
So he does have psychic abilities. And my mind is difficult for him to read. I wonder what that means, if it relates to my odd visions, the ones I don’t quite know how to define.
But it doesn’t matter if he’s lying, because there’s nothing I can do about it now. I have the feeling that soon enough, I’ll be putty in his hands.
“I do want to see you again, Adam. I want to take you up on your offer for dinner.”
“Great. I promise you’ll have a nice time. How does eight o’clock sound? I’ll pick you up at your place?”
“It’s a date.”
I hang up the phone, and I wonder how much I’ll come to regret what I’ve just done.
Chapter Three: The Cottage
Sudsy water from lemony cleaning goop seeps through a hole in one of my rubber gloves. I can feel it sloshing around my index finger, wrinkling the skin at the tip, and it’s annoying the hell out of me, mostly because I’m worried about what hideous chemicals I’m absorbing. I curse myself for not buying another pair of gloves sooner, because now it’s too late. I’ve got to keep scrubbing away if I’m going to make my pigsty of a home presentable for the immortal vampire who’s going to be visiting.
Thank God I left work early.
After I hung up the phone with Adam, I went to my boss, Roy Thompson, and faked an illness. He shot me a look of annoyance before allowing me to leave, but there really wasn’t much he could do, because it’s rare that I ask to cut out before my eight hours are up, or even take time off. But I know he’s secretly angry, because Roy is the one who always slithers out first, sometimes before five o’clock, and I’ve ruined his plans. Now he’s stuck babysitting the mail boys until at least seven, to make sure they don’t screw up any of the last minute overnight shipping.
And now I’m here on all fours, scrubbing down every enamel surface in my apartment.
I pause to catch my breath, and it all seems just a bit surreal, to be toiling away to impress the monster I’m lusting over. Yet, the thought of my vampire crush seeing the messy state of my home absolutely horrifies me. And there’s another worry spinning around in the back of my brain. What if Adam has to use the shower tomorrow morning? I try not to think about it, it’s just dinner after all, but somehow I can’t quite block the idea from my mind.
God, I’m such an idiot. What I’m doing is complete foolishness. There’s just as strong a chance that my blood will be splattered on the white tiles of the bathroom by morning, that I’m making my home presentable to please my own killer. Perhaps Adam will want to devour me in a place where the hints of his crime can be easily wiped away. Or something worse. I remember seeing a movie once where an assassin drags his victim’s body into a bathtub and covers it with lye to dispose of it. The joke will really be on me if that happens.
But I block out those horrible thoughts, or at least try. This won’t play out that way, it just can’t. I feel something for Adam, some sort of connection so intense that I’m not afraid to risk it all.
After I’ve thoroughly vacuumed and scrubbed, I put clean sheets on the bed and run down to the little market on the corner to face the angry Korean woman who works behind the counter. Whenever I walk into the place, she stares at me with accusing eyes, as if I’ve done something wrong, as if I’m a whore. Which, considering my latest romantic encounter, might be the case. But the good news is that she at least stocks her shop with a selection of decent-looking flowers, for when I get desperate, even though I hate giving her my money. I buy some daffodils to put in a vase that rests on a creaky end table near my front door, the green one I bought at a flea market that has little hand-painted roses on its sides.
Vampires would like to see flowers, wouldn’t they? To remind them of the sun they can never look at again? It makes me sad for a moment, to think of never being able to walk in the daylight, and my heart swells with emotion for Adam.
Unless it’s not true. I realize that most of my knowledge about vampires comes from bad movies and TV shows, but I always figured that if they were real, most of that would prove to be bullshit, anyway. But I do know the part about fangs and drinking blood is legit, from seeing them pop out for myself.
I should be writing this stuff down. My adventures with Adam are the real story I should be working on, not my silly romance novels set in the past.
Because I’ve spent so long cleaning, I don’t really have much time left to obsess on my wardrobe, which might be for the best. I can’t second guess myself, so I reach into the back of my closet, and pull out a dress I had bought for Trevor, one I’ve never had the chance to wear. I’d almost forgotten it existed. It’s purple, a brighter shade than I would normally gravitate toward, and just a bit low cut in a daring way. I bought it so I would have something nice to wear on a theatre date he promised to take me on. As long as I’ve lived in New York, I haven’t seen very many stage shows, and Trevor offered to remedy that situation. But I knew he didn’t really want to go. And after the night we made love, I almost thought that he had dumped me to get out of the chore.
The things men will say and do just to get you in bed.
I accessorize my rediscovered dress with a few pieces of bright, cheap jewelry, and put a bit of make-up on my face, some foundation and a light swipe o
f blush. I’m not one to wear heavy make-up, even when dating a yummy immortal. I like a guy to have some idea of what he’s actually getting.
As the clock on my wall approaches eight, my stomach begins to do somersaults. But before I can get too nauseous, I hear a gentle rap at the front door, and know who it is. His being able to get into the building might grow annoying, because it won’t give me the extra warning of buzzing him up. But when I open the door, I find Adam standing on the other side, smiling his dreamy smile. And any lingering fear I might have had seems to slip away. The only thing I can feel is a growing tingle of excitement over seeing him once more.
Adam is wearing black jeans and a simple T-shirt, a similar look to the one he had when we first met. But this time, he’s replaced the leather jacket with a dark blue blazer. And his shirt has a V-neck that shows off some of the hair on his chest. I swoon just a bit inside. I’m glad he’s not too smooth. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there’s something about masculine men that drives me wild.
Adam stands in the doorway of my apartment and stares at me with that same jovial smile, which is bizarre. I’ve always thought vampires were supposed to be … dark. And his eyes light up, as he looks me up and down.
“Wow. I didn’t think you could get any better.”
A smile creeps across my face.
“Would you like to come in? Am I supposed to … invite you?”
He laughs.
“That doesn’t work. It’s a myth,” he says, walking inside. “Most of that stuff isn’t true. It just plays well in movies, I suppose.”
“Maybe you should buy a studio. To help correct people’s misperceptions.”
“It’s better if they don’t know the truth,” he says, smiling. “But we are thinking about that studio thing.”
And a quick little chill runs down my neck.
“So … exactly how many of my preconceived notions about vampires are total bullshit?”
“All of them, probably. I mean, I do drink blood. And I like to sneak into young virgins’ rooms at night to drain them.”
I gasp.
“Kidding,” he says. “But we can talk about it more at dinner. I’m guessing I should probably get you to the restaurant soon. You must have worked up an appetite cleaning this place.”
He knows. He knows I’ve been scrubbing all afternoon. I smile, feeling just a bit bashful that I’m so easy to read.
“What gave me away?”
“The smell of citrus cleansing products is overwhelming.”
He winks at me and smiles.
“I appreciate the effort, but you didn’t have to exert yourself on my behalf,” Adam says, taking a few steps inside. “You’re talking to someone who survived the Black Plague. I’ve slept in homes with dirt floors and walls. I’m sure I’ve seen worse things than your apartment when it’s untidy.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
And he laughs. It’s fascinating that Adam can detect the lingering scent of Soft Scrub cleanser, because I can’t smell a thing.
Add super-nostrils to the list of powers I’m keeping track of in my mind.
My jacket is resting over the couch, and he picks it up. He holds it out for me, and it feels strange, to have someone help me to put it on.
“Shall we?”
I let him out the front door, locking it behind us.
I like that Adam is a gentleman. It’s the one thing I detect about him that would lead me to think he’s not of this era, because most guys just aren’t polite. Trevor would never have helped me with my jacket. The thought wouldn’t even have crossed his mind.
We ride downstairs in the elevator, and I can’t help but to stare at Adam. And he quickly notices my gaze.
“What?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I kind of want to pinch you, to make sure you’re real.”
“I feel the same way,” he says, staring back at me with a look of amazement. “I can’t believe that you’re actually here.”
“What do you mean?” I say, almost afraid to ask.
“When you get older, really old, it gets harder and harder to find people you’re interested in. It’s almost like a miracle.”
“I’m not quite sure what’s so interesting about me,” I say.
“Oh, you’re not just interesting. You’re absolutely fascinating,” he says.
And I’m fairly certain I blush. I’m just a bit embarrassed by his answer, but secretly, I enjoy it.
We get to the first floor, and he opens the door for me. We step out into the cool night air, and Adam pulls a remote from the pocket of his jacket. He clicks a button, and a gleaming silver Mercedes “chirps” at the front curb in eager response. The car is directly in front of the doors to my building, and I’m shocked that he found such a good spot.
“Wow, you really got lucky with the parking,” I say.
And he just smirks at me.
“I didn’t get lucky. I had one of our attendants park here all day, so I could pull right up when I arrived.”
“He parked here all day? How many tickets did you have to pay for?”
“I’m hardly going to sweat the price of a few tickets,” he says, with a laugh.
Adam opens the door for me, gallantly, and goes around to the other side. And within moments, we’re zipping off into the New York night.
I look around the car with interest. The interior sparkles and shines. It seems like it’s brand new and has been polished to perfection, just like the exterior of the car. And there are no personal details inside, no dice hanging from the mirror, no CD’s. It almost feels like a very expensive rental car. The Mercedes is a four door sedan, and it reminds me of something a very rich doctor or lawyer might drive. Which surprises me, I thought for sure Adam would be a Ferrari kind of guy.
The windows are just a bit tinted, and somehow, the glass looks thick. Like maybe it’s bulletproof.
“Nice ride,” I say.
“Do you want one?”
I can’t keep from letting out a laugh, in disbelief. I don’t really know how to respond.
“That’s right, you don’t like me being tacky and throwing my money around.”
“Oh, I like it. I’m just not going to accept any of it,” I say. “And I don’t really drive all that much. I’m not sure what I would do with a car like this.”
“Well, let me know if you change your mind. I can arrange for parking, too.”
It’s so weird, I just don’t know what to make of this guy. He’s the exact opposite of the men I’m used to dating, who seem to want everything from me, so they can give nothing in return. Adam wants to hand me the world on a silver platter, and he doesn’t seem to want anything back. And he’s the one who’s supposed to be the monster.
I notice that he drives cautiously, almost like a granny. The car moves at an even pace, no faster or slower than any other vehicle around it. And he eases to a stop well before every red light. It’s almost like a robot is driving. I would have thought he would speed around like a maniac, like other young bucks, but I guess he doesn’t need to show off. And I wonder if maybe he’s trying to blend in, drive in a way where he won’t stand out.
It’s another frustrating conundrum about him that begins to collect in my mind.
In a flash, we’re pulling up to a valet at the restaurant, “Grill.” It’s a nouveau Korean barbecue place that has been getting great reviews, especially among the hotshots at work. They specialize in bombarding diners with a variety of dishes, lots of tiny appetizers and platters of meats to cook up right at the table. Staci and I have talked about coming here, but we haven’t been in a rush, because the prices are far too expensive. And in this moment, I’m definitely not complaining about Adam flashing his wealth.
“Wow. How did you know exactly the place I had been wanting to try?”
“Maybe our minds are on the same wavelength,” he says. “But I thought it might work for us. They bring you a bit of everything to grill up. I’m not
a big eater, but I like to try little tastes. And you won’t have to waste a lot of time wondering what to order, so we’ll have more time to chat.”
“It looks like they sunk a lot of money into it. Which means, of course, that it won’t be around for long.”
“So let’s live in the moment,” he says, with another big smile.
We step inside, and I find the interior appealing. There’s a beautiful koi pond that fills the entryway, where fat orange and white fish swim about, and a walkway of deep brown wood has been built over it so you can cross to get to the bar and waiting area. The restaurant is open and spacious, and the entryway gives you a view inside to where the tables are. The booths are set generously apart, perhaps to give you room to talk without worrying about anyone eavesdropping, and sections are elevated higher than others, to allow an even greater sense of privacy. And I can’t help but to wonder if Adam brought me here for that reason, so we can eat our meal in peace.
He whispers a few words to the hostess, and we’re quickly led to a table, in the center of which there is a sunken grill with little vents all around it to pull away the smoke. I can see a waiter with spiky, blonde hair approach a table across from us, and he twists a few knobs to turn on the grill for the people sitting there. The man is handsome, like all the rest of the waiters, and could easily pass for a model. It almost seems cruel to me that the staff at high-end restaurants are always so pretty, like the cast of some nighttime soap. I feel sorry for the ugly waiters of New York who need to earn a living.
Another model-like waiter approaches our table, a cute Asian guy who has his hair gelled back in a luxurious sweep, and the perfection of his style almost makes him look like a page from a magazine. He offers us a welcoming smile.
“Hi, my name is Dalton, and I’ll be your server tonight. Let me just start up the grill, so it will be ready for your meal.”
He turns the knobs on our table, and Adam leans over to me, whispering.
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