Falling (22 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
,
a short story by J Bennett, is available for purchase on
Amazon
.