The Meridian Gamble (9 page)

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.

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 of 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?”