“One cream, two sugars for Ms. Drew. Good morning. Did you do anything interesting with your evening?”

  My eyes shot up at Michael’s voice. My evening? He knew precisely how my evening had gone, why would he even ask that? Was he testing me?

  I guess I’ll just play along for now.

  “It was fine Michael. Drop the Ms., it makes me cringe.”

  He lifted his hands, and one brow, in compliance, a smile dawning.

  Were the lights buzzing louder today or was that just me? I sipped at the coffee. He had prepared it correctly, but it somehow tasted too bitter this morning as I observed him.

  “You said you had a cat.”

  That’s right, Husker never came out the entire time Michael was over.

  “I do. Husker is his name, and he’s a very shy boy. He only ever comes out when it’s just us two and maybe one of my family members.”

  Shit, I totally walked into that…

  “Tell me about your family.”

  I needed to shut this down.

  “Michael, need I remind you that this is our place of work and moreso, I am your trainer. I hardly think sharing details of my private life will yield any fruit in our endeavors today.”

  Michael frowned and sat back, “Dang Drew, you know how to shut down a conversation.”

  Maybe I did, but we were at work and nowhere in the history of anywhere has it ever been said that one has to share personal details with their coworkers. But even I had to admit, it was smarter to play nice…ish.

  I cleared my throat.

  “I apologize, Michael, for snapping at you like that. I should have used more tact in saying I’d rather not talk about my life right now. We’ve got quite a bit on our plate today and I’d rather put my energy towards that, if you don’t mind.”

  A smile graced his mouth as he said, “I don’t mind at all, thank you for the apology.”

  His bright smile reminded me of what I saw those teeth do just twelve hours before.

  Breathe, Drew. Michael might be an idiot but he’s not completely stupid. He’d never do anything to risk himself at work. I’m fine, today’s going to be fine… I hope.

  We really did have a lot of work ahead of us, and I did not want my focus being split.

  I opened the procedural report from the day before, wanting to look over my edits one more time before sending it back to the team that wrote it.

  My seat jolted as Trevor had come up behind me and roughly grabbed the back of my chair. I swiveled my head to meet his smile.

  “Good morning, Drew, Michael! How are you both on this fine day?”

  Small talk felt even more gratuitous today after last night’s discovery.

  I must have had a readable face as Michael came to the rescue.

  “We’re good but busy. I don’t think we have much time for conversation right now, Trev.”

  “Totally get it, gotta get back to my own stuff anyway. Catch you both later.”

  Hopefully not.

  I looked over my screen at Michael, feeling more and more curious about the man across from me.

  I heard others around us joking about weekend plans. I was wondering whether that coworker’s heartbeat was audible to a vampire.

  He’s been a vampire for nearly a year, and he’s been working here for at least a couple years. Is he any different from how he was before he turned?

  I thought about the question, mulling over hazy memories of, at the time, some random guy from work. He’d been outgoing and friendly since day one, so that made it rather difficult to discern whether or not he was any different from before.

  I’ve really got to pay more attention to the people around me, their details, as opposed to just hating that there are too many people around. I didn’t think that I’d been completely blind to Michael. Vampire or no, he seemed like the exact same extrovert as before.

  Watching him laugh with someone from HR felt like watching an undercover cop get too comfortable – unnerving and eerily seamless.

  Michael nearly caught my eye before I looked at my own screen again, much too muddled to try conversation again.

  Come to think of it, no one else has come to bother me at the desk since Michael started over here. Anyway, right, procedural report…

  ? ?? ?

  The rest of the week went mostly the same. Reports and contracts went through my hands; I endured the small talk that would bombard the desk. Now it was the weekend, the day I had agreed to go to a Ren Faire.

  Michael had come to my apartment at 4:30 in the morning, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. He rang the doorbell, waking me and Husker, both of us huffing in irritation.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?”

  I looked at him from his feet to his face, pointing as I did.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “And what is that?”

  If he were shorter and a bit hairier, he could pass for a hobbit.

  Cropped pants with short boots, a white linen shirt underneath a waistcoat, and a cape clipped on with brass, acorn-shaped fastenings was nothing like how Michael dressed for work. For good reason, I supposed, it would look rather silly showing up to the office dressed like you’re ready to LARP.

  But I didn’t really care as much about his outfit as I did about the early intrusion on my wonderful sleep.

  “The sun isn’t even up yet and you expect me to be conscious?”

  “I told you we needed to get there when it opens and we have a couple hours to drive. And I’m guessing we’ll need to get some supplies before we get there as well. And breakfast.” He smiled, hoping the last point would sway me.

  I grumbled, “You should’ve led with breakfast.”

  I left the door open, expecting Michael to close it behind him. I heard a clearing throat behind me.

  I turned around, Michael still on the outside of the threshold.

  “What, you waiting for an invitation?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, his hands held helplessly in front of him.

  “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” I swept my arm in front of me in mock welcome. “Please, come on in, Michael.”

  I looked longingly at my bed as I passed through the bedroom door. Husker had curled up where I had been sleeping, soaking up the heat I had left behind. He looked up and upon seeing Michael he dashed under the bed.

  Silly, I thought as I walked past my bed to my closet. I grabbed a pair of jeans and flipped through the shirts hanging in the closet because I was not going to dress up. Picking a well-loved Queen band shirt that I had stolen from my dad years ago, I turned to go close the door.

  “Have a seat, I’ll be out in a second.”

  “What shoes do you have?” Michael asked out of left field.

  “Too early for questions. If you want to do something helpful, make some coffee. All the stuff is next to the pot.”

  I closed the door, leaving his odd question unanswered. Dressing as quick as my drowsy mind would allow, I grabbed my tennis shoes, figuring I’d show him since he asked.

  When I came out of my room, I found him at the kitchen counter, the coffee dripping and a cupboard open showing my dishes.

  At least I have four of each dish, this would be really awkward if there was only one mug.

  “You were asking about shoes,” I said, holding them up.

  “Yes! There’s a good chance we’ll be on our feet for several hours, I want to make sure you pick the right shoes. Do you have anything with better tread, by chance?”

  My face remained neutral. No, flat is a better word. Pancake flat.

  “No.”

  “These are just fine then,” he added quickly, “It's just that it can get a little muddy at these things, I would hate for you to slip and fall.”

  Maybe he wasn’t all bad. Very weird perhaps, but not all bad.

  “Thanks for checking but I’ll be fine.”

  I took one of the proffered mugs, savoring the warmth in my hands and smelling the bold roast. The aroma wafted around us as I grabbed the cream and sugar, preparing my coffee just the way I liked it.

  “So, you’ve been to one of these before, I gather?”

  Michael’s face brightened.

  “Oh, this is one of the few things I will go out for. There’s just something about getting together as a giant nerd community that just feels so right, you know?”

  “... Um, no, I don’t. But please, continue. I want to know what I’m getting myself into today.”

  I stirred my coffee and sipped, keeping my eyes on him.

  “I’m surprised that you didn’t research the Ren Faire after we had discussed our plan. It seems like something you would do.”

  It was something I would do, and I did do a little bit of looking on the Facebook page that was made for the event. It looked like someone had taken King Arthur’s court, Neverland, and Vikings and mixed them all together, resulting in a myriad of costumes that couldn’t be placed into one category. Very fanciful. A lot of whimsy.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had any whimsy in my life. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to let whimsy win today; I’d braid my hair instead of throwing it up in a ponytail like I was planning.

  I set down my mug and started separating the sections of my hair, not needing a mirror for all the practice I’d had over the years.

  “I did research, a little bit. But I figured experience would be a pretty good teacher.”

  “It can be. It can also be needlessly harsh. And that,” he emphasized with a quick tap on the nose, “Is why I’m here so early. We need to get you ready to rock the Ren Faire with proper preparations.”

  “Mm hmm. Still don’t see why it had to be this early,” I groused, taking a sip with one hand, the other holding the strands of my hair separate.

  “Do you want help with that?” he gestured to my hair.

  I shook my head, “I got it, I do this all the time.”

  Physical contact? This early in the morning?

  “I can do a braided crown. Do you want that instead?” he offered.

  I frowned, my brows dipping. “I told you, I’m not dressing up.”

  He lifted his mug, his eyes narrowing.

  “You’re not. It was just an offer anyway, geez.”

  I regretted my sharpness at his response, but what could I say to fix things anyway?

  Yeah, go ahead and braid my hair to look like a princess, be my guest?

  I sighed. He was just trying to be nice and help and here I was complaining about dressing up.

  Well, is hair even part of an outfit? Does it count as dressing up if the only thing that looks renaissance is my hairdo? Even then, people wear braided crowns out and about just like any other braided style.

  “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m really, really not a morning person and normally don’t like being touched. If you want though, you can braid my hair. Let me get you a brush and some bobby pins and elastics.”

  I walked toward the bathroom. Was I, just a little… excited for this? When was the last time someone else touched my hair for fun? I thought back to when I was a little girl and my mom would do my hair: braids, pigtails, all kinds of styles. I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling.

  He brushed my hair smooth before separating smaller sections than I had. What was his plan? Was he really this friendly or was he just lulling me with caffeine and haircare before eating me for lunch?

  I thought I’d break the ice, internally shaking my head to clear it, asking “When did you learn to braid hair? Do you have sisters or something?”

  “I do, but they actually weren’t part of my learning to braid, though they would let me practice on their hair.

  “It was actually a different Ren Faire, back when I’d go to these with my high school friends. The girls in the group taught us boys the basics of braiding, but I was the only one who could get a crown to look right.”

  When was the last time someone else did my hair? When I went to the salon months ago for a trim? His fingers tickled my scalp as he sectioned off my hair, brushing the sections until they were smooth and then looping them over and under in a rhythmic pattern. I couldn’t help but close my eyes as he continued, relaxing a tad.

  “After high school we all did our own things; some college, others trade school. Life just got in the way. I moved here, and I’ve gone to a couple of Ren Faires by myself but they are way more fun when you’re part of a group.”

  His dexterous fingers continued, twining my hair around in his hands.

  “You’ve got really nice hair. It’s soft and it brushes so nicely.”

  Wait, what am I, a horse? At least I don’t have a tail for him to braid. Why is he talking about how it feels to brush my hair like he brushes hair all the time? Ugh, more coffee…

  “Uhh, thanks.”

  As more of my hair was pulled into the braid, more of my neck was exposed. The air tickled goosebumps to the surface and I became very aware of how close he was to my neck. How very available it would be once the braid was all done, like a perfectly wrapped present. I shivered.

  He was nearly done, just needing to pin the braids into place. I handed him pins one at a time until he declared my hair “perfect.” And I did have to admit it looked nice, nicer than my sloppy French braid would have looked.

  “Okay so, I’m dressed, hair is done, what else do I need? I think that’s basically it.”

  I patted my pockets, noting my phone in one pocket and my pepper spray in the other. I knew it wouldn’t be allowed into the faire, it’d be confiscated at the gate. But I’d be spending plenty of time with this vampire outside of the actual faire today. Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

  Soon enough, we finished our coffee and went out the door.

  “Who knows who we’ll meet! You never know who you’ll run into,” Michael started.

  I was just hoping that I wasn’t being set up by a couple of vampires. Now, off to frolic with fairies and elves while looking for a possible bloodsucker.

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