A Vampire for Christmas(18)

Don’t fuss over me,” she said to him. “I’m fine. And you must be Charlotte. How do you do, my dear?”

Charlotte extended her hand. “Very well, thank you.”

I’m Victoria Westfalen, but please, call me Vik.” An impish look crossed her face and he felt the beginnings of a headache. Although she was in the twilight of her life, having lived through many centuries, she was as sharp as a tack and had a wicked sense of humor. “It really is lovely to see you…” Her voice trailed off and she hesitated. Trace held his breath. She wasn’t about to say again, was she? “No wonder Trace is so enamored,” she continued, spinning a gnarled finger in the air. “Turn around, dear. Let me look at you.”

This isn’t a fashion runway,” he growled, his mood darkening. “Miss Grant is here to do the decorating, not to be a decoration herself. That is, if she’ll even take the job.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake, Trace. I just wanted to get a better look at her, that’s all. When you get to be my age, looking in the mirror doesn’t have the same appeal it once did. Seeing a cute young thing like her brings back an old lady’s fond memories from a long time ago.” There was that sparkle in her eye again, no doubt caused by the knowledge that Charlotte had no idea his grandmother wasn’t referring to a point in time approximately eighty years ago. More like quadruple that.

Charlotte laughed. “I don’t mind. My grandmother used to do the same thing. Though she also corrected my posture, told me to enunciate and examined my hands to make sure I was using the miracle cream she ordered from TV. I…I miss it, actually.”

I’m terribly sorry. How long ago did she pass?”

Several years ago now,” Charlotte answered. To Trace she said, “You’re a lucky man to still have yours.”

Well, you come sit next to me, my dear.” She patted the sofa next to her.

Trace ran a hand over his jaw. She might as well have said, “Come into my lair where we will plot against the sensibilities of my grandson.” Last year, she’d made no bones about how much she liked Charlotte. Unlike the old cronies on the Council, his grandmother had always been progressive in her thinking.

Trace,” she continued, “will you have Marcel prepare a pot of tea and a few finger sandwiches? And the cream scones, too. Charlotte had a long drive out here and I’m sure she’s hungry.”

Oh, I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you. I ate a little something before I came.”

Nonsense. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve tried Marcel’s pastries.” His grandmother cupped a hand to her mouth as if she were letting Charlotte in on a secret. “They’re to die for.”

Trace left them in the sitting room discussing various brands of hand cream. The holidays couldn’t come and go fast enough.



CHARLOTTE HAD TO CRANE her neck to see the ceiling in the formal living room and mentally calculated the height. Although the room was large enough to accommodate a very tall tree, she didn’t want to go much more than about sixteen feet, purely from a logistical standpoint. “Real or fake?”

Excuse me?” Trace asked from the arched entryway.

Are you thinking of a fresh tree or an artificial one?”

He looked up from his phone for a moment, one eyebrow raised as if he hadn’t heard the question. “Just do whatever you think is necessary.”

Some help he was going to be. She talked through a few of her ideas. A large tree near the window, greenery on the fireplace mantel, Christmas-themed ornamentation, naturally.

Sounds good to me.” He didn’t look up from his phone, just kept punching away.

She narrowed her eyes, suddenly needing to test him. Let’s just see how much he’s paying attention. “And then I’ll bring in a moose head and nail it to the wall over there. It’ll have giant antlers and I’ll stuff a bunch of mistletoe in its mouth.” She glanced over to him and saw him nodding, so she continued. “I’ve got a life-size blow-up Santa that we’ll set on the sofa and we’ll also dress a blow-up doll in a Mrs. Claus outfit. We’ll put red and green lights, the large ones, everywhere. From the ceiling, around the doorways, in all the potted plants.”

Still he nodded, concentrating only on that damn phone. If he was playing Angry Birds or some other game, she was going to be seriously pissed.

Then we’ll crochet some red and green pillow cushions for the sofas and I’ll get a holiday sweater for you to wear at the party. You know how everyone loves wearing Christmas sweaters. You’ll have a light-up tie that twinkles when you turn it on. You’ll be the envy of all your guests. What do you think?”