Coping (8 page)

Also by J Bennett:

Employment Interview with a Vampire

The Vampire’s Housekeeper Chronicles

Betsy’s notion of a “fixer upper”
is actually a dilapidated mansion that might have been an especially nice
country estate about 50 years ago. Now the paint is peeling, the window
shutters are crooked, and the place looks—in three words—spooky as hell.

And this is before I search in vain
for a doorbell and am forced to use the heavy brass gargoyle knocker. I hear
its echo reverberate inside the house, and a chill runs all the way through me.
My unconscious mind is starting to have some doubts, but my conscious mind is
all too aware of the stack of bills sitting on my kitchen counter.

“Come in,” a deep, sonorous voice
calls from inside.

I push open the door, and yep, it
gives out a nice, lusty creak.

“Mr. Hayward?” I venture. “This is
Deidre from the Bullseye…employment….agency.”

My voice trails off as I look
around the foyer, which seems to be functioning as some sort of spider web
sanctuary. Then there are the dust bunnies, which are actually just about big
enough to qualify as dust German Shepherds.

“Come into the sitting room child,”
that spooky voice speaks up.

Betsy never mentioned how much this
job paid, but I’d already made up my mind to hold out for at least $12.00 an hour.
Now I wonder if maybe I should crank it up to $12.50 an hour. My feet
hesitantly shuffle into the living room, and this is where I get my first
official eyeful of my potential boss.

A cape.

Nathaniel is actually wearing a
black cape.

I will learn later that Nathaniel
feels very strongly about wearing the cape for houseguests, but in this moment
I am completely flabbergasted.

I guess it’s also time to deflate
another long-held vampire myth. Not all of them are incredibly attractive. Or
even mildly attractive. And they definitely don’t stay young forever.

When Nathaniel sees me in the
doorway, he throws back his cape dramatically revealing a bow tie, suspenders,
and a pair of pants cinched up around his belly button. He also has a pencil
mustache on his upper lip, bushy black eyebrows and a white poof of hair on his
head.

“You’re late,” Nathaniel says.

I look down at my cell phone. 9:03
AM.

“What kind of watch is that?”
Nathaniel asks accusingly.

I’m not wearing a watch, and it
takes me a moment to realize what he’s talking about.

“It’s a phone,” I tell him.

Nathaniel waves a pale hand in
disgust. “Everyone is so excited about those damn phones. Give me a telegraph
any day of the week.”

Nathanial lowers himself into a
ratty, wing-backed chair with stuffing coming out of several holes. In the
grate, a large fire blazes and throws shadows wildly across the room.

“Yeah, telegraph, those were the
best,” I mumble. I wonder if I should sit down, but since he hasn’t invited me,
I just keep standing in the doorway.

Nathaniel’s piercing blue eyes give
me the once over.

“I see you chose to wear pants.”
His bushy black eyebrows crunch together in disappointment. “How very improper
for a woman.”

I look down at my nice navy slacks.
“Sorry?” I venture.

“And you seem quite old to be
seeking independent employment.”

“I’m 24,” I tell him, though I’m
pretty sure it’s illegal to discuss age in a job interview.

“Surely you are married and have
born your first child.”

Okay, this part is definitely
illegal, but I answer him anyway. “Nope, it’s just me.”

“A spinster then,” Nathaniel clucks
his tongue with reproach. “Perhaps if you didn’t dress yourself in such
disgraceful garb you could make yourself more desirable.” He waves a hand.
“Though, perhaps it doesn’t matter. At your advanced age, your chances of
finding a good marriage are exceedingly low.”

At first I’m too shocked to even be
offended or angry, but then his words sink in, and I feel a hot flush jump to
my cheeks.

“These pants are just fine,” I
huff. Yep, this is the best comeback I can muster on short notice.  “I think…I
think I’ll just go.”

I turn to leave when a sound fills
the room.

It is the Macarena.

“Damn,” Nathanial says, “it’s the
telegraph.”

He stands up, walks over to the
mantel, lifts the lid of an ornate box and pulls out a cell phone. He stares at
it, obviously confused.

“Here, let me.” The phone is on its
last chord of the Macarena when I take it from his hand and accept the call.
Turns out that Nathaniel’s blood pressure medication is ready for pickup at the
local WalGreens pharmacy.

I give Nathaniel the message, and
this puts a sour expression on his face. “I need to stop eating so many obese
humans,” he says.

Despite the cape and severe
anachronisms, I still haven’t figured out that Nathaniel is a vampire, so I
automatically assume he meant to say, “I need to stop eating with so many obese
humans.” Of course, this doesn’t actually make any better sense, but I don’t
give it much thought.

“Well?” Nathaniel demands.

“Well what?”

“Go on and pick it up.”

“I’m not your slave,” I reply
before I can stop myself.

“Of course not,” he snaps back.
“You are white and this is a non-slavery state. I’ve considered moving to
Tennessee for just that reason.”

We stare at each other. Two things
hit me. First, Nathaniel is one hell of a misogynist and racist. Secondly, I
think I just got the job.

* * *

Employment
Interview with a Vampire
is FREE on Amazon