Ten, page 34
“Yeah,” Georgia said sadly.
“Look, I know it’s tough to plan a dress and a party, but if there was one thing that Ren always embodied, it was that the show must go on,” Nicolette said as she squeezed Georgia again. “He sure as hell wouldn’t want you to give all those vamps the satisfaction of seeing you miserable, right?”
Georgia smiled a little. “You know, you’re the first person who’s said anything about Ren lately that I don’t want to slap right after they open their big, fat mouths,” she sighed. “If he was here, he’d be planning all of this to a T, right? You know, I’d promised him a dance at the ball. I really wanted to show him that even though I have two left feet that I’d try for him.”
Tears welled up around Nicolette Tesla’s electric blue contacts.
“Oh, we’re crying now,” she said as the mascara started to run. “Let me get away from the silk.”
“Wine?” Georgia said as she let her tears out too. “I think this calls for wine.”
Soon both were camped at the kitchen table, guzzling pinot grigio, while a concerned Schrodinger looped around their legs.
Georgia managed to find an old box of chocolates tucked among bags of pig’s blood. They chowed on those and let all the maudlin emotions out.
A few minutes later, Gordon and Geoffrey peeked in on the scene just in time to hear Nicolette say, “Oh, he might have been uptight, but it gave him an ass that you could bounce a dime off of.”
“Indeed!” Georgia said as she clinked her glass. She waved sadly and fluttered her raccoon eyes. “Sorry guys, we were having a moment.”
“I don’t know quite how to handle this much hysteria,” Geoffrey said as he surveyed the scene. “Perhaps we should retire and keep working on my suit.”
Both Georgia and Nicolette burst out laughing as the men retreated in haste. Georgia polished off her first glass and sighed, “I shouldn’t be laughing, should I? Is it OK to laugh?”
“It’s OK to do whatever you damn well please. No one can tell you how to grieve or how to feel,” Nicolette said as she too polished off her glass. She quickly refilled them both.
“Amen,” Georgia said. “Seriously though, is this going to happen to you? Is this going to happen to my dad?”
Nicolette nearly choked on her wine. “Dad? Your dad is a bondsman too? Wait, Sutherland? He’s not Shane Sutherland, is he?”
“Why yes, yes he is,” Georgia said. “You know it never occurred to me that you might know him.”
“Shane Sutherland, the makeup artist?” Nicolette sighed as she slouched in her seat. She let out a long, low whistle. “You really don’t look like him at all, so it never occurred to me either.”
“Adopted,” Georgia confessed. “So, did you ever work with my dad?”
Nicolette blushed a little and started reading the menus and notes stuck to the fridge. “Well, um, yeah—” she started.
“Yeah, don’t want to know, do I?” Georgia asked.
“Nope.”
“More wine?” Georgia asked.
“I don’t think there is enough wine to ever finish this conversation,” Nicolette said between giggles. “So, is he how you ended up working for Mr. Lambley then?”
Georgia took another sip. “No, actually, I ended up here because of a mix up. My roommate at the time answered a sex ad placed by Steve to try and get Mr. Lambley some fresh food. She used my phone and got the times mixed up with the interview she had scheduled for me with her aunt about being a receptionist.”
“And here I thought I had the market cornered on awkward stories,” Nicolette said. “Remind me sometime to tell you about the one with the cucumber, and no, it’s not quite what you think, but it did end up in an uncomfortable place.”
“Nicolette darling!” Gordon called from the parlor. “We really should be getting these measurements and samples back to the shop.”
“Well, that is code for less talking, more sewing, if I ever heard it,”
Nicolette sighed. “We should do lunch this week, and I’ll get you tickets for the show.”
“Usual time?” Georgia asked.
“Let’s make it early, say ten PM? Just let me know if dear, sweet Geoffrey is coming, and I’ll bring an extra, special flask.”
Georgia chugged the rest of her wine and slipped around the table for one more hug. Nicolette pick up the drained bottle and let out a whistle. “Damn girl, your liver puts mine to shame, and I’m Russian-Irish,” she said. “Please drink a lot of water.”
“Well, I have outdrunk both Irishmen and Russians, and I even held my own in a Japanese dive bar, so I think I have a liver of steel.
Best part of it all? Rarely get hung over,” Georgia said.
“Unfortunately, said constitution meant I had the perfect attendance award eleven out of twelve school years.”
“Eleven?” Nicolette dared to ask.
“Broke my arm in ninth grade when I thought it was good idea to skateboard. Turns out my clumsiness is not limited to dancing,”
Georgia explained. “So, let me know if you need any more measurements or for me to pretend like I’m making a decision when you just do what you want in the end—”
Nicolette blew her a kiss. “You are my favorite client! See yah, love yah, bye-bye!” she called as she headed for the door. “Gordo, we have work to do!”
“Mr. Lambley, you OK?” Georgia called. She sauntered into the den and found her vampire boss curled in the armchair with a remote and Uptown Chapel on the TV.
“Gordon set the channel for me, and I even have some type-O
left,” Geoffrey said with glee. “Oh, I think this may finally be the episode when Lord Martin reveals that he didn’t really die in the war and that he’s been hiding as a gardener at nearby Mayfair Court—”
“So, what you’re saying is —it’s OK for me to get a shower and work on the bills for a while upstairs?” Georgia asked.
“Aye, aye, Miss Sutherland,” Geoffrey said with a little salute.
“Now can you please move a little to the left, my story is starting?”
She gave a little bow as she swept towards the central landing.
She took a moment to survey the clean, if slightly chipped, tiles, polished brass mailboxes, and the new UV film on all the glass. She smiled at the spotless corners and lack of mouse traps. As she
swung around the newel post, the other fluffy, pudgy ginger in the house mewed plaintively and threw his entire body across a step.
“Schrodinger!”
He meowed again and stretched his paws, as he wrapped his claws around a bannister. Georgia stumbled as she stepped over him. The cat meowed again, rolled to his feet, and then plopped two steps higher.
“Seriously, cat, do you have a death wish?”
He meowed noncommittally. With a heavy sigh, Georgia turned back and headed for the kitchen. “You have food!” she snapped as she saw two full bowls by the fridge. Even his litterbox in the laundry room was shockingly devoid of smelly presents.
“You’re just messing with me,” she sighed before running back to the stairs.
She stepped over him again, and Schrodinger retaliated with serpentine maneuvers. She ended up dragging herself up the handrail as the cat continuously twisted and rubbed between her legs. Georgia listened to her better angel and resisted the urge to kick the infuriating animal. Instead, she scooped up the protesting ball of fluff and hoisted him onto her shoulder so that she could finally reach her upstairs bathroom in peace. She yelped as the normally lazy animal dug his claws into her deltoid.
“Damn it, cat!” she howled as she dropped him. The orange furball scrambled as he ran towards Georgia’s room and started hissing at her darkened doorway. “What is up with you?”
Georgia stopped cold as her stomach turned. “Schrodinger, I forgive you,” she whispered as she too bristled at the door. She took a few cautious steps towards the bathroom, tapping her fingers as she took stock of her options.
“Mr. Lambley!” she called.
She struggled for air as her feet left the ground. She flew into her darkened bedroom. The door slammed, and she tried to scream, but it came out more like a chipmunk squeak. She landed on the bed with a thud. A blurry, shimmering monster landed on top of her.
She rolled her gaze to the left. The shimmering arm-shaped-object began to flicker and shake until she saw a white sleeve with
Chinese characters appear. She froze.
“Lēe hò! Gōu kà shùi, baby!”
Georgia blinked again, and the blur solidified into an Asian face with spiky black and purple hair. Today, he sported a full evil-overlord goatee as well as a barbed-wire tattoo around his neck.
“What the fuck?” Georgia choked out.
“Surprise!” Bam-Bam the Hundred Pacer said cheerfully as he pinned her to the bed.
“Let me go,” she snapped as she wriggled free. She skootched up the bed and ended up banging her skull against the headboard.
The vampire made a pained face as he heard the thud.
He reached towards her gingerly and brushed the hair from her forehead. He cocked his head as she recoiled. Finally, he perched on the side of the bed and simply watched her as she shivered. After a few eerily quiet minutes, Georgia cleared her throat.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Watching you,” he replied.
“That is really creepy.”
Bam-Bam furrowed his brows. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and adjusted his expression to one of extremely bland broodiness. He then ran his fingers through his hair so that one of the spikes flopped in front of his eyes. He continued to stare at her.
After another few awkward moments, Georgia stopped shaking and raised a brow.
“Um, are you just watching me?” she asked.
Bam-Bam nodded.
“Are you planning on biting me?”
He shook his head.
“Killing me?”
He recoiled in horror. “Heavens, no!”
“So, you’re literally just watching me. . . in my bedroom?”
“Yes.”
Georgia slumped against her headboard and buried her face in her hands. “How did you get in here? Aren’t you supposed to be invited in or something like that?”
“That is a decidedly Western tradition,” he replied in a slightly huffy tone. “Also, you left your window unlocked and the fire escape is very accessible.”
“But why are you in my bedroom?” she snapped.
He did the smoldering stare thing again. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked.
It was Georgia’s turn to shake her head. The vampire gave her an extremely perplexed look. “Is it because I’m Taiwanese and not some pasty white boy that this technique doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Does what work? Wait, is this some weird way of hitting on me?”
Georgia asked as she recoiled further. “Oh, my god, you are hitting on me.”
“This technique seemed quite effective in the movies—”
“Movies?”
“Yes, but it seems to be only effective on high school girls.
Perhaps you are simply too old to be affected,” the vampire sighed.
“I did read some books as well. Would it help if I told you that I was a billionaire with a tragic past? I have some straps in my pocket—”
“Oh, no, no, no, no—” Georgia started.
“Is that a no that means yes, or just a no that means no?” the vampire asked.
“It’s a no that means no!” Georgia snapped. “Now, can we rewind this conversation and try to get it to make a teensy-weensy bit of sense? You climbed up the fire escape and into my window, freaked out my cat, attacked me, and then attempted to woo me by staring at me?”
“It seems like you understand the course of events clearly,” the vampire said. “Perhaps I should introduce myself—”
“You’re Bam-Bam the Hundred Pacer,” Georgia blurted out.
The vampire squealed and clapped his hands. His eyes lightened and brightened as well, now a stunning shade of bleached blue.
Georgia kept staring as they took on a tiny tinge of green and settled finally on the color of the Caribbean Sea.
“That is one of my many names. That was the name given to me when I first met the gweilo. It’s weird that they translate one but not
the other. It is the name that the murderous families fear, and you heard it.”
Georgia gulped. The vampire, on the other hand, burst into raucous laughter. “My dear, do you know what the hundred pacer is?” Bam-Bam asked.
“It’s a type of Asian pit viper,” Georgia said. “You’re not the only one with a smart phone.”
“But do you know why the snake is called the hundred pacer?” he asked leaning in again.
“Because once it bites you, you can only walk for a hundred paces before you die,” Georgia said softly. “Is that something you can do too?”
Bam-Bam broke into a huge grin. “Oh, no one has ever made it more than fifty, and that wasn’t really walking, more like crawling with a lot of bleeding, and moaning, and groaning,” he said. “Tell me, would you like to see my snake?”
Before Georgia could move her chin, the vampire yanked down his hoodie zipper with alarming speed. Georgia sighed with relief as she saw the tattoo of a snake’s head on his right arm and the snake tail on his other. Bits of scales with a diamond pattern peeked above the collar of his white wife-beater top as well.
“Would you rather face the other snake?” he asked with a little wink.
Georgia shook her head. “No, that’s fine. . . really—” she muttered. “So, should I call you Bam-Bam?”
“Only my pesky little sister calls me Bam-Bam. I was born Kuleleele, but everyone who called me that is long dead. My current passport says my name is Bam-Yin Lung,” he said.
“So, what do I call you?” Georgia asked flatly. “Because if you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna call you Bob, mostly because calling you Bam-Bam makes me imagine you as a baby caveman.”
“If you call me Bob, then I will call you Florida, Miss Sutherland,”
Bam-Bam sighed. He flopped next to her on the bed.
She slid towards the edge of her bed. Bam-Yin rolled on her side and gave her another attempt at smolder. “Why are you hitting on me, Bob?” she sighed.
“Well, Florida, it’s quite simple. I am a tragically forgettable creature. In fact, one could say I was cursed to be the invisible man.
A kiss from my lips will disorient and confuse a human, and my ability even effects vampires,” Bam-Yin said sadly. “Basically, since you can see me and remember me, you are a logical choice for a relationship.”
“Oh, no, not this again,” Georgia said as she smacked her face with her palm.
“Again?” Bam-Yin said. His eyes turned even greener. “Oh, now I understand everything. That Jaeger, the one who startled me when we first met, he’s the young bastard who can make people forget, isn’t he?”
“You and Steve are the same,” Georgia sighed.
Bam-Yin clutched his chest as if he’d been staked. He shook his head in horror.
“That little brute may have a forgetting kiss, but he is rash, impulsive, and rather like a wrecking ball. He has no subtlety and controls his powers with the finesse of a drunken child!” Bam-Yin snapped. “But it explains so much as to why an immature Jaeger would dare attack me.”
“Wow, you described Steve kinda perfectly,” Georgia muttered.
“So, did you sleep with both the master and his servant then?
Why didn’t the Jaeger just kill you both for insolence?” Bam-Yin asked.
All of Georgia’s confusion and terror faded as her cheeks flushed bright pink. She shoved the vampire off her bed and jumped to her feet. “Why you obnoxious, arrogant bastard!” she snapped. “First off, that is none of your business, and secondly, how could you even—?”
Bam-Yin grabbed his hoodie and pulled a creased photo out of the front pocket. Georgia’s jaw dropped as she saw her smiling face mugging for the camera, while an achingly familiar man leaned his head against her shoulder and made a silly peace sign and mock gangsta expression. The Green Monster in the background brought out his eyes.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“There was an unlocked window on the second floor of The Intercontinental,” he explained. “I always research my potential enemies when I come to a strange city. I found this in one of the rooms. Someone very strong hurled the frame into a dark, dirty corner—”
“I thought it was lost,” Georgia whispered as she reached for Ren’s face.
“I thought it meant you liked Asian men with tattoos, and since this one is now deceased from what I can tell—”
“Get out of my room,” Georgia growled.
“So, you belong to the Jaeger now?” Bam-Yin asked. “I’m pretty certain that I’m more your type.”
“Listen to me, Bob,” she said in a dangerously low, even tone.
“You obviously know nothing about me. While I appreciate your candor and not pretending that your interest in me is anything other than you realizing that I’m probably one of the few women who can ever remember that you exist, there is something that I would you like you to appreciate. Downstairs is a vampire that might not look very frightening on the outside, but if you make him angry, and especially if you threaten me, he will hunt you down, and he won’t be alone. Furthermore, since you’ve already figured out, I do have an ex-boyfriend who happens to be a Jaeger, and both he and his far more terrifying sister will hunt you down if anything happens to me.
Finally, I’m am pretty damn sure that Ren, that servant you just taunted me with, is so damn well connected that he’s already doing the taxes for Satan, and he will send hell after you if you threaten me again.”
Bam-Yin gave her a super polite bow and set the photo on her vanity. “Florida, you are magnificent. Can we please have coffee sometime?” he asked.
“What? Do you not get the whole concept that my boyfriend is dead and I’m in mourning?”
“That’s the point, he’s dead, and you’re not, and I’m not. Ergo, you would probably be better off having coffee with me rather than a corpse. Actually, if he was cremated, you could put him in your coffee, but that’s about it—”
