Blood of the Son (Book #1 in the Skye Morrison Vampire Series) (Skye Morrison Series) (5 page)

After I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on my make-up, I went over to my closet to find something appropriate to wear to the interview.  I had to dress nice, but a little conservative, since this was an executive-type position.  Finally, I chose a white long sleeve, button up blouse, a pair of slim black trouser pants and some black lace, peep-toe pumps.  I threw my hair up in a carefully messy bun, packed my work clothes in my messenger bag along with my resume, and headed out the side door to my awaiting car. 

As I was backing out of my driveway, I ran into Nikki who was coming back from the mailboxes carrying today’s mail.  She was still in her plush beer can replica house shoes and PJ pants, so I assumed that she didn’t have to work until 6pm today, like me.

“Hey, Cupcake!  I was just about to bring you your mail.  You headed out to your interview?”

“Sure am!  Do I look okay?” I asked, a little unsure.

“Girl, are you kidding me?  You look great!  I’ll see you tonight at work,” she said as she handed me my mail through the downed driver’s side window.

“Wish me luck!” I called as I resumed backing down the drive.

“Luck!” Nikki shouted as she waved goodbye.

I drove downtown while listening to Skinny Puppy on the way there.  Nothing like a little industrial music to get me in the mood.  I was excited about my interview and the possibility of being Archer Rhys’ executive assistant.  I couldn’t wait to find out what the job entailed. 
What did an executive assistant to a club owner do, anyway?

I pulled into The Mausoleum’s parking lot and checked my phone.  It was only 3:20pm, so I decided to walk a block over to Afterburner’s and pick up a coffee for Archer and I.  I ordered two grande Cappuccino’s, and, after waiting in line for what seemed like an eternity, made my way back over to the club.

I checked my phone again.  It was just now 4pm, so I had made it back on time.  I tried the front door and it was locked. 
He said 4pm, right? 
I tried peeking through the windows, but they had been blacked-out.  I decided to knock.  After a few minutes, a burly man came to the door.  He was very tall and broad, with a stern, weathered face and a ‘no nonsense’ attitude.

“You are?” he bellowed boredly.

“Skye Morrison, sir.  I have a 4 o’clock appointment with Mr. Rhys,” I said, slightly intimidated.

“This way,” he said and disappeared back into the club.

I followed him in and shut the door behind me.  The club was massive inside and its décor, impressive.  The main floor had a huge bar off to the right and what looked to be a light-up dance floor and stage off to the left.  There were numerous tables and booths scattered about, metal cages in each corner, and some to the sides of the stage.  Everything was decorated in black and red. The man led me to the back of the club and up a wide metal staircase.  The second floor was as impressive as the first.  There was a second, smaller bar up here, flanked by two more metal cages, and what appeared to be individually curtained VIP booths and lounge areas.  There was also a small metal balcony and glass door above the bar that over looked the entire club.  He led me to a door that was to the left of the bar.

“Through here and up the stairs,” he said as he turned around and walked away.

“Nice chatting with you,” I said under my breath, wondering what his story was.

I shook my head, juggled the 2 cups of coffee, and opened the door.  I was expecting to find another room, but was instead met with a spiral staircase.  It was very small around and lead to a single door that was off to the right of it.  When I reached the door, I gave a timid knock.

“Yes?” came a voice through the door.

I slowly opened the door and peeked in.  Archer was sitting behind a huge dark African wood desk.  He appeared to be busy filling out paperwork of some kind.  He looked up at me and smiled.

“Well, hello, Miss Morrison,” he said with a bright smile and gestured to the two sleek black chairs in front of him.  “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rhys,” I said, walking over and taking a seat.

He tisked at my formality. “Archer, please.”

“Thank you, Archer,” I corrected and sat his coffee cup on the edge of the desk.  “I brought you a Cappuccino.  I got here a little early, so I decided to hit up Afterburner’s for us.”

“How thoughtful of you, Skye.  I love a good Cappuccino,” he said as he picked up the cup and touched the rim to his lips.  I did the same with mine and took a long sip.  I noticed that he only touched his lips to the cup and didn’t actually take a sip. 
He must not like Cappuccino and is only being polite
, I thought to myself. 
Oh well
. 

I dug around in my messenger bag and took out a copy of my resume.  “I brought you a copy of my resume, as you requested,” I said as I handed it to him.

He took a few moments to look it over.  I looked around the office, waiting for him to finish.  His office was very nice.  His desk sat off to the right side and behind it sat 3 book cases full of leather bound hardback books.  There was a black leather couch, a lazy boy, a mini fridge, and a wall-mounted flat screen with a mini bar under it off to the left.  I noticed there were no windows in here, but didn’t think much of it because it was a bar after all.  There was a small door in between the couch and Archer’s desk.  I was assuming it to be a private bathroom.

“Very impressive, Miss Morrison.  You graduated Magna Cum Laude from the University of Texas in Ancient History and Classical Civilization,” he said with a wide grin.  “And how did you like your studies?”

“I really enjoyed my four years there.  Ancient History has always fascinated me and it made for easy coursework, in my opinion.”

He looked down at my resume. “I see here you currently work for a Mr. Dan Kennedy at Drop Kick Dan’s…as a server?” he said, a bit skeptical at my job title.

“Uh…yes, sir.  I’ve worked there ever since I moved to Austin four years ago.  It was the first job I found.  I loved the people I worked with, so I decided to stay until I graduated college.”

“I see.” 

“So, Archer, can you tell me a little about the position I’m interviewing for?”

“Basically,” he said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head “you will be assisting me with anything that I may need.  You will also be required to assist at the bar on occasion, answer my private line, order supplies, fill out paperwork, run errands and occasionally the club in my absence.  You will help me with staff and keep the VIP guests and club talent happy.  You may even be required to schmooze our Platinum Level VIPs here or there.  The PVIP tips are good, so I’m sure you won’t mind.”

“About that,” I started, not sure how to approach the pay question. I gently bit the corner of my lip.  “What does the position pay, anyway?”

He looked at me and laughed.  “Not one to beat around the bush, are you, Skye?  I like that.” He sat up in his chair and studied me.  “You will be a salaried employee.  The starting pay will be $85,000 a year with your first raise to come after a positive 6 month evaluation.

I had to swallow hard and attempt to put my eyes back into my head.  “That’s a very generous salary, Archer,” I said, trying not to shake from sheer excitement.  All I could think about was how quickly I would be able to pay off my loans.

He seemed amused by something I said, but looked down at his desk quickly in an attempt to hide it before he continued.  “I’m a very generous man when it comes to my employees, Skye.  They eventually become like family and I always take care of my family.  Besides, don’t think that the money comes easy.  This job is very demanding.  There will be nights where you won’t get home until after sun up.  And, there will be days where you’ll be required to come in before noon.  Whenever I need you, I need you, so you’ll be required to drop everything to accommodate me.”

I took a sip of my Cappuccino, giving me time to contemplate what he just said.  He was basically saying $85,000 in exchange for being at his beck and call, doing whatever job he thought up for me to do.
It wouldn‘t be so bad
, I thought.  I wondered how I was going to fit working at Drop Kicks into the mix. 

“With all those late hours, doesn’t Mrs. Rhys miss you?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow.  “No,” he said with a slight smirk.  “There is no Mrs. Rhys.”

“Oh, sorry” I replied, a little embarrassed. “I just figured a guy like you would have been snatched up long ago by some gorgeous girl.”

He smiled and chuckled a little.  “You’d think so, huh?  I haven’t had much luck in that department…at least long term.”

“Sorry if I seemed nosy,” I said, looking down at my clasped hands.  I felt like I had pried.

“Not at all, Skye.  These are things you’ll need to know if you work for me,” he said soothingly.  “Let me ask you a few general questions.  Would that be alright?”

“Yes, please.  Fire away,” I said, eager to change the subject.

“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked.

I looked up at him and wondered if I should give him the safe answer or the true answer.  I decided to throw caution to the wind and let him see the real me.  “Well, um, I enjoy painting.  Abstract mostly…on big canvases.  There’s almost nothing better than channeling your love, fear, pain, bad day, good day down into something and seeing the beauty of those emotions emerge.  It helps me realize that no matter how bad my day was, or how hurt I felt…there’s always beauty in everything; that every emotion I feel is important and helps make me who I am.  I love it.  It’s freedom incarnate.”  I smiled and remembered the last painting I did.  It was after Jesse and I broke up.  I put all the anger, tears, frustration, and ugliness down on the canvas.  It turned into one of the most beautiful pieces I’ve ever done. 

“I love to read,” I said, clearing my throat and continuing.  “I’ve always preferred that over watching television.  There’s not much imagination to television in my opinion.  Also, dancing has always been in my blood.  I love dancing whether it’s out at a dance hall or around my house.  If hear music, my body just kind of responds to it.  I like to catch Karaoke Night at the Blue Lagoon Lounge whenever I can.  Their Cult Movie Show Tunes night is to die for.  Don’t laugh.  I know it’s cheesy, but I love it.  And, I have to say, one of my absolute favorite things to do is go to my weekly Krav Maga class that I take with my best friend, Nikki,” I said, hoping that that wasn’t too long winded of an answer.

“Impressive, Miss Morrison,” he said with a cock of his head and appraising eyes.  “I like a strong woman.”

I blushed and looked down at my hands.  Small butterflies fluttered around in my stomach and I adjusted my body uncomfortably in the seat.  I was embarrassed but a little excited at the look in his eye as he watched me talking. 
What is that…the way he’s looking at me?  He likes a strong woman…what does that mean?  Is he coming on to me? 
I laughed inwardly at the absurdity of my thoughts. 
Yeah right, Skye.  He’s WAY out of your league, girlfriend.  But, nice try. 
I looked up, into his eyes, and gave him a small smile and a shrug.  “Me too.  I grew up on Red Sonja comics.  I wanted to be just like her when I was a kid.”

His eyes sparkled with his laughter and the butterflies in my stomach picked up again. 
Dammit, stop that!
I silently told myself. 
Out of your league!  And, he just might be your boss someday.  Chill, hormones…
 

“What kinds of books do you like to read?” he asked.

I was surprised by the question.  I guess when he said general, he really meant general.  “I mainly read paranormal fiction, though I do enjoy the occasional historical drama or biography.”

“I’ve read up on preternatural things myself,” he said with a knowing smile.  “What are your favorite subjects?”

“Well, I suppose it would be vampires, werewolves, fae, and similar mythological creatures,” I said, hoping that’s what he meant.

He laughed and nodded his head.  “I’m glad you enjoy those.  I do, too,” he said

I started wondering how these questions pertained to the job I was interviewing for.  But, I shouldn’t complain, I guess.  These questions were very easy to answer and it seemed like he was genuinely interested in hearing my answers.

“Do you have any first-aid knowledge?” he inquired next.

“Hm…well, yes.  I took a first-aid course in summer camp when I was 15.  I still remember the basics,” I said, a little confused as to where this was going.

“Good,” he said, then looked thoughtful.  “Would you know how to…let’s say for example…dress wounds and control bleeding?”

What the hell kind of interview question was that
?! I thought to myself. 
I’d expect that if I was applying at a hospital or something, but...
  “Yes,” I said slowly, confused as to why I would ever need to know something like that working in a nightclub.

“Excellent,” he said smiling.  “You never know when something like that will come in handy.”

I personally hoped that I would never need to do first-aid.  I was a kind of squeamish around blood.  I tended to get a little light-headed if I saw a lot of it.  I got into a fight in high school and accidentally broke this girl’s nose with a quick left hook.  Blood sprayed everywhere and painted her shirt in a matter of seconds.  It took everything I had not to pass out at the time.