Vampires Need Pedicures Too (A Paranormal Romance)

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© Copyright 2012

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Vampires Need
Pedicures Too

Holly
still wasn’t sure how she had let Deb talk her into this
, best friend or not
.  Speed dating wasn’t
even close to
her thing
.
 
N
estling into
her worn
,
but comfy
couch in a flannel night shirt and thick crocheted socks, her tabby Mittens curled
up
on her
lap as she
rides
through Longbourn to
the Bennet home and t
he romance of
Elizabeth and Darcy
or the
Antebellum
adventures of Scarlet and Rhe
t
t
-
the
se were her things.

Deb had practically kidnapped her at lunch, dragging her away from re-shelving the reference periodicals to take her shopping at one of the most expensive
boutiques in town. 
Holly
couldn’t really afford the dress
-
or the shoes, but she had slipped out a credit card just the same and now
, nearly eight
hours later,
stood before the blacked out glass doors of the hottest
underground
restaurant in town wearing a black
leather evening
dress and
what she considered to be
dangerous, non
-
OSHA approved
high
heels.

She was only vaguely aware that
Milton
Falls
,
Iowa
had places like this. 
The taxi pulled away to reveal an empty street and an
empty sidewalk shrouded in an amber mist, the effect of the sodium vapor street lamps and the unseasonable humidity of the warm
summer evening
.  Holly
couldn’t help but make
connection
s
to
literary
scenes of other people and
other
places
.  She
was taken with a
n
acute
sense of the surreal.

She
was brought back from her thoughts by
Deb’s hand on her back
, “You
’re
awesome
!  W
ho
’d
have thought you were hiding
all
this under those awful khakis
and
sweaters
?
”

Holly
blushed
.

She had nearly called the whole thing off on several occasions, once when she laid the dress out across her
antique lace duvet
and again when she opened the
lacquered wooden
shoe box
.
  The lid pivoted back on its hinges revealing the burgundy velvet lining and the black heels
themselves
.
  They stared up at her
-
daring her
.

She surprised herself when she actually said
“Yikes!” out loud; they had appeared less imposing at the store.

She
almost phoned
Deb
again
from her apartment lobby, feeling
awkwardly out of place
as she stared out the front door
glass
to the waiting taxi
,
but that wasn’t just due to the
mocking high
heels
. 
The ti
ght, full length
evening dress, a dress that
demanded very careful and delicate
steps
- at least if she wished to remain standing,
had the most influence on her
doubts. 
It had taken her nearly twenty
minutes to put
on, which wasn’t bad in her opinion considering the two rows of buttons that ran from a Victorian collar to just below her b
ottom
, not to mention
the fifteen minutes she spent pacing,
giving
covert sidew
ays
glares
at the dress, then the shoes, then her phone
- plotting to
call Deb and be done with the whole
unpleasant business.

But now, as she
stared
at her reflection in the door
,
long blonde hair framing her
heart shaped face
,
she felt good
.  S
he did look
amazing
, she felt
-
empowered
.
  Deb had that effect on her.

Deb, the
young
head Librarian,
had piled her dark curls up on top of her head, long dangling diamonds caressing her slender neck
. 
Holly thought
she
looked like a movie star
. 
She wore
high heeled, lacey, white
old fashioned
boots and a
long
,
white
,
skin tight dress with a slit
up the side
that ended just above good taste
; a
high,
lacey collar that
accentuated
her dark complexion
finished the
ensemble
.

“
One of us
has to
kill
tonight
,” Deb whispered in her ear as the maitre de opened the door and escorted them inside.

The two women followed and entered the dark candle lit interior of La Bistro Nost. 
Holly
again found her nerves pushing back
,
but Deb wrapped
her
in her arms
and gave
Holly
a quick
hug and a
reassuring look
- those pale gray blue eyes were so comforting.

Deb took one arm and pulled
Holly
close
like
a
teenage girlfriend
as they clicked across the cigar toned ma
rble floor of the outer bar, past
the curtains held by the maitre de and then into the
dimly lit
,
dining room proper.  Two rows of mission styled dark wooden tables ran the length of the amber and graphite décor.  Along the
in
side of
the
tables, at the walls
,
ran leather benches that terminated at the far
end
of the room.  Twelve tables, now occupied by twenty-two
amazingly fashionable people
-
they were late.

“You spend
fifte
e
n
to twenty
minutes with each guy and then you switch.  Maybe get some phone numbers, maybe give yours and maybe
, just maybe
get a real date
for once
. 
And have fun Holly
,
relax.
  I have a good feeling about tonight.
”

Holly
stood still as Deb
pulled away, her smile fading as she
headed for a table with a sandy blonde metro-sexual type sitting on the bench.  He pulled his glasses off as
she
gracefully slipped into the chair across from him. 
Holly
watched Deb rest her elbows on the table and then
raise
her hands
in a matter-of-fact fashion
to
cradle her face, as if to say, “
I’m bored, e
ntertain me.”

Holly
slowly followed, her heels clicking over the quiet conversation
s
heading for the only remaining open seat across from - she barely held the laugh inside.

Oh no, not that!  Th
is is awful, please God no.  Fifteen
minutes,
no laughing,
she
insisted to herself
.
  Make that twenty-one amazingly fashionable people.

He sat against the wall. 
Holly
could tell he was
on the short side, or it could have been his awful posture. 
He had some d
ark hair poking out from under a
ball cap
with some faded beer logo on it
.  H
is
complexion was
on the
lighter
side
, but looked washed out and sickly against the light mauve and green plaid sport coat, bright yellow tie and burgundy shirt.

The poor guy must be color blind.  I can forgive that,
but the hat?
 
Seriously
?

Holly
stopped before the table and felt his eyes crawl up her body, until
t
he
y
finally met her o
wn.  Her nerves said ‘run away’.
H
e wasn’t undressing her
-
it felt more like
he was
tasting a bomb pop
and the
sensation of
being a
frozen confection
didn’t sit well with Holly
, but i
t was those eyes that gave her pause.  He was creepy, that much was true, but there was something else as well.  She willed herself to sit down next to Deb and play along - fifteen minutes.

He didn’t
stand up in courteous greeting,
he just stared at her
and then leaned over, “What color are my eyes?”

Holly, in a deliberate act to play ball for Deb’s sake, leaned in closer, “Green?”

He smiled a radiant thrilling smile that made Holly tingle - deep pools of a mountain lake green eyes, green eyes that spoke to her, green eyes she would obey.

He leaned back and seemed to relax,
“So, hi.  My name is Tim.
”

“Wheeton, I mean
Holly
,
Holly
Wheeton,” she stammered looking down at the table.  She felt like she was back in junior high.

“Hi Holly
.
”

“Hi
.
”

“I think we should talk about me, what do you say?”

That
sounded wonderful
, she thought as she looked up from the table
, meeting his eyes again
-
what
had she been
thinking
, only fifteen minutes?
O
f course she wanted to hear about him
.  Deb was
right;
this
was going to
be fun after
all.