“Perhaps you can read my proposal. I will email it to you, and then if you don’t think it’s worth anything, I will walk away or find myself a human to partner with as I’ve been instructed to do. But I want you to read it.”
“Why me? I told you, I’m just the party girl. I just hook people up like a matchmaker.”
“Fiona, you’re so much more than the party girl.” She blushes again, and lowers her chin, looking up at me through her lashes. Her blue eyes bore into me, and at this moment I want to tell her all about my plans, but I don’t. I reach across the small table, extending my finger out under her chin. As I gently lift her chin, so she looks at me directly, her warm skin sends electricity through me. Heat engulfs my skin, a sensation I’ve not felt for as long as I can remember. I can hear her heartbeat pick up again as if it’s beating in my own chest. Possibly a dash of fear, but definitely something else. “I want to know what you think of it. I want your opinion on my proposal, and then I want you to tell me that you don’t want to help me.”
She replies softly. “I will look at it. But I cannot make you any promises.”
“Just promise that I can see you again. So that we can… talk more.” I hesitate, my growing attraction to her making me want to sweep her into my arms, taking her back to my place for safe keeping. Her soft smile exposes her beauty; she's herself with me. Not at all the woman who I thought she’d be.
Shyly, she replies. “That… I can promise.” Her expression is inviting; a smile that begins to melt my exterior spreads across her face.
And with that, I lower my hand and sit back in my seat. With Fiona, I need to be patient. I need to ensure that she’s not scared of me and that she allows me to get a bit closer each time we meet. Anything more, and I could lose her, and I can’t bear the thought of that.
8
Fiona
The words start to blur. It doesn’t matter how many times I read them. Each time I come to the part of Roman’s proposal where he wants to open a home not only serving homeless people but more importantly the foster children of Las Vegas. I can’t wrap my head around why a vampire would want to help humans. None of this makes sense to me.
A few times while reading, I picked up my phone to call him because I had to know, but I could never bring myself to dial his number. Right now, I hate myself for thinking about him outside of a business standpoint. He’s nothing more than a client. No, he’s not even a client.
He’s someone who doesn’t take no for an answer, and as much as I’d love to sell this idea to my father, and beg him to give Roman the permits necessary, my father would never budge. Roman doesn’t have the right vital organs.
However, the concept is beyond amazing and needs to happen, and if Roman needs to find a human partner to make this project come to life then, that’s what he needs to do. I wish I could tell him this, but the other day at lunch he didn’t seem too keen on the idea of having a human involved in his business, not that I blame him. After we parted, I stopped at the library and did some research on vampires. The first thing I learned, despite their extraordinary abilities, is humans have always somehow had control. At one point in history, more vampires walked the earth than humans, yet we were responsible for the extinction of the undead. It’s not exactly clear why the reemergence happened, but that the government has put strict guidelines on vampires’ ability to walk among us.
Their rules are simple, to say the least. While the cross I wear doesn’t protect me, the vampire is supposed to respect it, which Roman has done each time we’ve met. The books also stated there are rogue members out there who do as they wish, but a majority of the creations are trying to live among humans, as humanly as possible.
Still, as much as I like this proposal, the only way Roman achieves his goal is to hand it over to a human. I’m fairly sure my father won’t even entertain the idea if a vampire is involved, even as a silent partner.
Holding one of his architectural sketches in my hand, I lean back in my chair. The new home is perfect for the empty lot, is beautiful and nothing like we have on the Strip. Even though it would have the same grandiose feel as the casinos or stores along the road, it fits. Truthfully, when I opened the portfolio, I expected to find a gothic vibe, with pages filled with black, coffins and cobwebs. I blame my father for my thought process.
Roman is nothing like I had imagined, and it makes me wonder what type of human he was before he was… what do they call it? Turned? Bitten? The book I read didn’t exactly go into detail of how someone becomes a vampire, and something tells me his creator didn’t bite him because he was dying of Spanish influenza when he was seventeen. I can attest, Roman doesn’t sparkle, but he does dazzle me, and part of me hates it. As Leslie says, it’s unnatural, but I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t thought about Roman since our lunch date. I have, in every possible way. It’s that part of me that wants to know him more, to find out what makes him tick and discover why this project is so important to him. He could go any place else and build something like this, so why Vegas?
As much as I want to help him, I can’t. There isn’t anything I can do. Knowing this breaks my heart because Roman seems to be more kind than his human counterparts. The other proposals are just money making ventures. Investors looking to dump millions into a failing hotel, making it a hot spot for the next year while collecting copious amounts of revenue and eventually letting it fall by the wayside as the current owners have. No one considers the long-term investment. They’re unprepared for the complaints that will undoubtedly come in about the air conditioner not working, the uncomfortable bed, dirty room or the loud banging coming from their adjacent wall. Each of these items cost money, and unless you’re jam-packing your casino, the hotel is going to struggle.
Did Roman consider this? I don’t know why I care, but I rifle through his proposal to see. My eyes scan the page, and sure enough, he has. He has the funds to do a complete overhaul of the current hotel, upgrading it to the finest of everything the market has to offer, all while keeping his prices competitive, if not below market.
“Why can’t everyone think like him?”
When did I start thinking of Roman as a pronoun? I still don’t know the answer. Is he a man? He looks like, talks like, and acts like – well better than some, I know – a man. So why not? And if he’s not, what do I call him?
I shouldn’t call him anything. In a matter of days, this… whatever he is, has entered my home uninvited, stalked me outside the spa I was enjoying the day at with my friends, and… that’s when it hits me. He approached me in the coffee shop, knowing who I was. It wasn’t happenstance or a shy flirtation, he sought me out with the sole purpose of getting to know me because of who my father is. With that, I close his portfolio and tuck it into my desk drawer, determined to forget it.
I don’t know how I ended up here, but here I am, standing in the middle of the Majesty Hotel and Casino, watching as very few people push quarters into the slot machines. As casinos go, this one is empty. The typically loud and boisterous sounds that represent Las Vegas do not exist here. At one time, the Majesty was a staple of the Strip, the hot spot mecca until misguided fortunes and super casinos opened.
“I hate my imaginary job.”
“Cocktail?” A young… no strike that, he’s not young because he’s a vampire, is smiling at me. He’s carrying an empty tray with a pad of paper on it.
“You’re a vampire,” I say, stupidly. I’m sure he knows this.
His expression changes as he looks around. “If you’re uncomfortable, I can ask Jenny to come take your order.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry for my outburst, it was rude of me.”
Now he steps back as his eyes go wide. He opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it. He clears his throat, which brings up another list of questions I have. Like, do vampires go to school to learn how to act human or do they retain these mannerisms once they’ve turned? I’m sure Roman would answer anything I want to know, but honestly, I think seeing him is a bad idea. He makes me feel things, which I’m not sure are entirely true to the way I’m feeling. I’m convinced Roman has me under some spell or something.
“Do I have to gamble to get a drink?”