The doorbell startles me out of my reverie, causing me to jump about five feet. What an embarrassment to vampires everywhere. Sitting on the edge of my bed, taking deep breaths, I need to get a grip on myself. I stand to take one final look in the mirror. I can’t remember the last time I was so worried about my appearance. The voices of Annie and Alexandre float up to me, as they greet our guests.
Opening the door, I walk slowly down the stairs, cross the hall, and into our white-paneled living room. This room, decorated by Alexandre, is slightly ostentatious with raised, embossed Venetian plaster designs lining the doorway and ceiling trim. It fits his personality to a tee.
“There you are Mills. I was beginning to wonder if we could expect you.”
Leave it to Alexandre to bring the entire room’s focus onto me. He takes my hand and begins introductions. First, of course, is Kathryn. She smiles, tilting her shoulder toward me in a way which makes me think she is trying to be seductive.
However, Alexandre’s lust is well placed. She is striking with black hair cut short in a bob, green eyes that sparkle, a full pouty mouth, and creamy skin. She is tall in her very high heels, but not as tall as I am. Her figure is nice, and her wrap dress is chic in a classic bright yellow. Not a color everyone can pull off, but she does, beautifully.
Next, I shake hands with the director, James. He is a non-descript man I would describe as mousy, had he been female. He also keeps wiping his mouth, reminding me I need to wash my hands. Then comes Timothy Woods, the movie star. He is certainly handsome with dark, thick, wavy hair and beautiful dark brown eyes. He has a killer smile but is awfully short.
“Millicent, I love that name,” says Timothy.
He bends to kiss my hand, trying to be charming, but misses the mark. His eyes travel all over my body, never making it to my face.
Finally, Alexandre steers me over to the only person in the room who I have any interest in knowing. I take a deep breath and look into his eyes. I can do this. Physically, this man is an exact copy of Julien. With my heels on, we are face to face.
Alexandre says, “Millicent Mirabeau, meet Jack Thomas.”
The moment our hands meet, he says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. Mirabeau. I believe I saw you last night on the riverfront.”
The voice, oh my god, the voice. Before I know it, my knees have buckled, sending me teetering to the side. Jack and Alexandre both reach out to steady me. Annie runs over, slipping an arm around my waist.
“Too much damn humidity in the air today. Let’s get some water,” she says, pulling me out of the room.
Once out of sight in the kitchen, I lean against the counter and cover my face with my hands. I’m embarrassed, but I can’t help but realize that not only did he see me last night, he remembered seeing me.
“How can two people have the same voice? His voice is what made me lose it. I can’t believe what just happened. What kind of immortal gets weak in the knees? Great,” I whine.
“You’ll figure it out, but don’t worry about the buckling. Before you came down, Kathryn was complaining about how she felt faint all afternoon from the extreme mugginess. We’ll go with the same thing for you. Sip on this water for appearances. The best thing to do to save face is to go right back out again.”
She is right. Annie lets me lead the way and in we go. When we return, everyone is seated. Walking in, the men all stand, except for Timothy, and inquire as to how I am. It’s nice to know, for the most part, chivalry isn’t dead.
Annie says, “She’s fine just a little overheated from today. Never drinks enough water.”
Kathryn chimes in with, “Today was just awful. I don’t know how you stand it. Is it like this year-round?”
“It isn’t always so bad. Most of the time, the weather is quite pleasant. I suppose you get used to it,” I reply.
The men, who stood, resume their seats. Annie sits next to the cold fireplace, which we left unlit this evening for the comfort of our human guests. I take the only other empty spot, on the loveseat, next to the man I know as Julien. Alexandre looks at me and doesn’t seem happy.
“Can I get you a drink, Mills, or are you good with water for now?” He asks, eyes narrowed.
“I’m fine, Alexandre, thank you,” I answer, my voice clipped.
He turns his attention back to Kathryn and the director, who is sitting awfully close to her. I know this annoys Alexandre, who I’m sure, just wants to get her alone. Kathryn begins talking to the room about her character in the film, a dead woman who regenerates to take revenge on the men who killed her. Sounds pretty B-movie to me, but I keep that to myself.
Timothy, who is seated in a chair next to the loveseat, leans toward me with his eyes on my legs, and says, “This is a lovely home. Is it Alexandre who owns it? You’re all roommates?”
This is one of the most difficult things about being around mortals and why most of our kind avoids them like the plague. They are nosy. It can be difficult to explain living situations without making them think you’re weird or up to something.
Our money is separate and has grown tremendously, thanks to Alexandre’s financial prowess. While, Alexandre had money before I came around, he’s never been too open about where it came from. My money originated with the gold, jewels, and artwork taken from my mortal life and later sold.
I explain to Timothy that the house is mine, but it’s a family home and Annie and Alexandre are my cousins. Timothy takes what I say at face value, adding he is also close with his family. He’s blinking too much, making me think he’s probably lying. I try to look somewhat interested but could care less about getting to know him. It is quite clear he’s usually the center of the universe, it’s also clear he is used to dominating conversations. His voice is loud, and his gigantic smile never wavers.
I throw a look over at Annie. She is clearly amused, but does her friendly duty, bringing her chair in closer to Timothy. In a sweet, sexy voice, Annie asks him to tell her more about the film they’re working on. As Timothy is quite happy to continue talking, with his eyes firmly attached to Annie’s chest, I turn my body slightly toward Jack. He has remained quiet, while sipping his drink, never speaking with anyone.
“So, Jack, is this your first time in Savannah?”
Lame, I know, but you have to start somewhere.
“Actually, yes. I’ve become quite taken with it, such a unique place.”
I hear what I missed before, a slight English accent. Not French. He looks me right in the eyes as he tells me about all the things he has enjoyed in the last few days. Those eyes, the color of lapis, could hold my attention for an eternity. I wish everyone else in the room would disappear.
“How much longer will filming continue?” I ask.
“Six to eight more weeks. Although, you never really know. It could end up taking a little longer.”
Plenty of time for me to figure this out. We fall into an easy conversation. He is a writer, as well as an actor. I also learn he is from London and has been acting for twenty years, almost always in character parts.
I apologize for my lack of film knowledge. He laughs. “Being a character actor, I tend to blend into a film anyway. You may have seen me many times and not noticed.”
Not likely.
This feels very easy. Jack is far from the snob Alexandre accused him of. He is kind and genuinely interested in speaking with me. Not once have his eyes wandered from my face. He seems as intent on me, as I am on him.
I take a moment to look around the room and notice people look bored. I’m not terribly concerned with how the others are feeling, but this may be my opportunity to get Jack alone for a few minutes.
Taking a risk, I place my hand on Jack’s arm. I suggest, as a writer, he may have an interest in seeing our library.
He leans in, conspiratorially, and says just loudly enough for me to hear, “I’d love to see it,” in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
I wonder how I’m going to get him in there alone, the last thing I want is anyone to join us. Deftly, Annie suggests we take the party into the courtyard, as the evening has cooled off nicely. Everyone readily agrees.
Annie grabs two bottles, winks at me and leads the way. I look over at Jack, to see if he’s noticed the wink, but he doesn’t give any indication. While everyone is getting up, Jack and I purposely hold back, like two kids with a secret plan.
“Perfect timing. It’s almost as if she knew what we were thinking,” Jack says, as we find ourselves alone in the living room.
“Almost.” If only he knew how right he is.
I show Jack across the hall to the library, easily the most perfect room in the house. We pause in front of the antique door. Imported from France, the gray finish door, with intricately carved wooden panels, looks like a gateway to another world. I chose it specifically for this room.
Opening the door, we step inside, Jack in front. He walks into the center of the room, hands in the pockets of his black pants, head turning every which way. I give him time. There is much to take in.
“A reader’s dream; I could spend all day in here.”
“Thank you that was my intention.”
Antique, gray-washed built-ins with silver leafed scalloped edges line the walls. At the far end of the room, stands an aged, white, wrought iron, spiral staircase. The staircase leads to a second story of the same built-ins, all filled with books. Books are everywhere; in the cases, stacked on the floor, in piles on the desk, and several litter the end tables. There is a cushioned, silk couch, and two matching chairs in the center of the room, where hangs a large crystal chandelier.
“Alexandre says the room is too feminine for his liking.”
“It’s beautiful, just like the woman who designed it.”
He seems embarrassed by his comment, as he turns away as quickly as he had turned to face me. I try not to smile like an idiot.
“Are you really interested in books to this extent?” he asks.
I should probably be offended, but I also wonder why he would ask this.
“I am. Why do you seem surprised?”
“Maybe I’ve just spent too much time on movie sets. In my experience, girls who look like you, are only interested in clothes, jewelry, and makeup.”
“Wow, jaded much? I think maybe you are stereotyping pretty girls. How many of them have you actually tried getting to know?”
“Good point, that wasn’t fair. You just surprised me, and people rarely surprise me, anymore. I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Of course not. Would you like to go out and join the others?”
“Not really, can we sit in here for a while?”
“I’d like nothing more. I’m not sure I would call this a party, anyway. Would you?”
“I’m not really a party kind of guy, so this suits me just fine. I’m infinitely more comfortable around books than people.”
“I know the feeling. Strange that you chose acting as a profession then.”
“It truly was. More than anything acting was an escape for me, a way out of a small town for a young man with few options.”
He pauses. After a moment, he sits on the couch, where he begins to tap his foot.
“There is something very familiar about you, but I know I would have remembered you, had we met before.”
He knows me. I want to jump up and down like a child filled with excitement on Christmas morning. It’s everything I can do to remain serene, because jumping up and down wouldn’t seem strange, at all.
“Is there?” I ask, sitting next to him.
“Yes, when I saw you last night, I thought for a second that I knew you.”
“Admittedly, I feel the same. Almost like Déjà vu.”
He nods, his brow wrinkling, “Yeah, just like that. Funny.”
He says funny almost like a side note, like he’s trying to convince himself that it is easily explained. I know it isn’t.
Jack is close to me now, I can feel the warmth from his breath and body. He has a slightly musky, sandalwood scent that makes me quiver. It seems his nature is to be a little timid, but physically he is all man. My desire roars to life. It’s all I can do to not lean in and kiss him. It’s easy to imagine us sitting in this room, a fire in the grate, my feet in his lap, reading lines from our favorite books to each other.
This is my moment, “You said how much you have enjoyed the jazz down here. The next night you’re free, I would love to take you to a small, wonderful little out-of-the-way jazz place.”
“We have a late filming schedule tomorrow, but I would love to, after. It may be late, around midnight.” It’s cute he thinks midnight is late for me.
“Midnight is when things pick up around here, that’s perfect.”
I can tell by the way his body is positioned and the way his eyes are locked onto mine that he feels the same way about the kissing, but something is holding him back. Societal mores, I hope.
“I promise tomorrow night will be a lot more fun than tonight has been.” Hopefully, in more ways than one.
He laughs. “I’ve quite enjoyed this night.”
I begin hearing Alexandre in my head; wondering what we’re up too. Not long after, Jack and I rejoin the others to finish out the night.
Later, as we move out onto the porch to say goodbye to our guests, Kathryn pulls me aside. She also pulls me away from Jack. I try not to let the irritation show on my face.
“Um, Millicent? Can I talk to you in private for a sec?” she says, in a barely audible whisper.
“Sure, let’s go back in the living room.”
I already know she wants to ask me about Alexandre. I take her tiny handbag, tossing it behind the door.
“Hey guys, hang on. Kathryn left her bag inside.” I close the door, pick up her purse, and we walk into the living room.
“Thanks, you’re pretty quick. I can appreciate that,” she says, her smile lovely.
“You have to be fast thinking around Alexandre. You never know what he’s going to say, or do,” I joke, hoping that gives her the transition she’s looking for.
“Speaking of Alexandre…Is he seeing anyone, right now?”
“Nope. Are you interested in him?” I ask, wondering if she can see right through me.
“Well, yes. I mean look at him. He looks like he stepped off the 300 set.”
I purse my lips, nodding my head. If only she knew, Alexandre is his own walking ego.
“He is definitely a perfect male specimen, physically.”
“Just physically? Is he a jerk or something?”
“No, no. That isn’t what I meant. Alexandre is great, he’s my family. I wouldn’t spend so much time with him if he was awful.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Thanks, Millicent. I wanted to be sure about what I’m possibly getting myself into.”
“Getting into?”
She blushes, undetectably to the human eye. “He followed me to the restroom. Not in a creepy way. He was just looking for an opportunity to talk to me alone…nothing happened. He asked if I would like to come back later, after we all left. It was kind of cute. He almost seemed shy about asking.”
Don’t laugh, Millicent, don’t laugh. “Uh-huh, that’s Alexandre to a tee; shy and discreet. What did you say?”
“Oh, I’ll be back. I’ve been dying to meet someone like him. Who knows what could happen?”
“Who knows,” I echoed.
She was actually quite nice. I hoped Alexandre wouldn’t break her heart. She was clearly looking for more, but she was right, who knows what would happen? They were both adults, free to make their own decisions.