Lori knocked gently on the office door, more as an informative gesture than a request to enter.
As if I'm the one who needs an invitation,
she snarked to herself. She tamped down that thought, though, before it could become anything more than a passing notion. This was already going to be an awkward meeting, and Lori didn't want to say, do, or even think anything that would get Human Resources involved.
Not that 'Human' Resources should even be-
Lori pushed that thought away too.
"Come in!" the voice said from the other side of the door. It was a rich, deep woman's voice, filled with a thick accent that turned the soft 'i' sounds into hard 'ee' sounds, and carved the 'c' in 'come' into the air like a knife. Lori tried hard not to roll her eyes as she opened the door. Seriously, didn't Isabella even try? If Lori had ever impersonated her boss, everyone would accuse her of perpetuating unfair stereotypes.
Isabella was sitting behind her desk wearing a black dress that blended into the darkness, her pale face lit only by the glare of the computer as she scrolled through budget spreadsheets. Her black hair and dark eyes seemed to drink the light wherever it touched them, leaving only her alabaster skin visible in the shadows. "Please, close the door behind you," she said, gesturing airily in Lori's general direction. "Oh, and feel free to get the light."
Lori groped for a moment before she found the light switch. Once she flipped it on, she was able to make her way to the chair on the other side of the desk. She sat down, trying to pretend she was simply taking an interest in the collection of Precious Moments figurines on the shelf behind her boss. "Um, you wanted to see me, Miss Dalca?" she asked, keeping her voice studiously neutral and polite.
"Yes, my dear," Isabella said, turning away from her computer to face Lori directly. Lori studied the small ceramic figures even more intently. "Please, call me Isabella. I was hoping we could have a little one on one chat, you and I. Just to clear the air, as it were. Please don't be alarmed," she said quickly, a slight chuckle in her voice. "Nobody's unhappy with your work. I've been having this same conversation with a number of your co-workers since I replaced your old supervisor, and today happens to be your turn."
That wasn't why Lori was alarmed, but she tried her damnedest to arrange her facial features into an expression of sudden relief. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," she said. "I mean, I knew you'd met with Laura and Bhita, but they didn't say anything about what it was about. Um, not that they would have. Gossiped or anything, that is." Lori knew she sounded nervous, but the last thing she wanted was for Isabella to get the wrong idea about her co-workers. She might really bite their heads off.
Lori winced, hoping it just looked like she was trying to stop babbling like an idiot. She felt more certain than ever that this meeting was going to end with her putting all her belongings into a cardboard box. There was no way that Isabella couldn't see right through her, and less than no way that she would put up with an employee who would cheerfully put a stake through her heart if she thought for a second she could get away with it. Lori put on a plastic smile, but she was already bracing herself for the worst. (Well, not the absolute worst. Maybe the second worst.)
But Isabella just laughed. "Please, my dear! There's no need to be so worried. I don't bite." She paused, perhaps a touch melodramatically. "Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about. I couldn't help but notice that you've...avoided me, since I came to work for this company. Little things-leaving the break room in a hurry whenever I walk in, avoiding voluntary events, sitting in the back at meetings-but they've added up. Lori, do you have a problem with me?"
"No!" Lori blurted out, knowing that it sounded forced. "No, Miss Dalca. No problem at all. I'm just always keen to get back to work, you know? Busy busy busy, that's me." She forced a giggle, uncomfortably aware that she was lying like an actor in a bad sitcom.
"Mhmm," Isabella replied, noncommittally. "Why don't you look me in the eye and say that, then?"
Lori couldn't help herself-she flinched. "I thought so," Isabella said in a tone of resignation, not even waiting for a response. "This is about my being a vampire, isn't it?"
Lori felt a flush of color coming to her cheeks. She hoped she looked indignant instead of embarrassed. "How could you think that, Miss Dalca?" she said. "I, I have lots of vampire friends!"
Isabella smiled again, but this one was a little colder. "But let me guess. They got rid of their accent, they never let their fangs show. They keep their eyes covered when you're around, and their wardrobe is all khakis and sweater vests. They take night jobs so you never have to be confronted with blackout curtains. They don't drink blood in front of you because they're afraid it might upset you." Isabella sighed. "You're a young woman, Lori. I wouldn't have imagined you to be so necrophobic."
Inwardly, Lori bristled. She had always hated that term. Of course she was necrophobic! They were undead monsters who drank human blood to survive-fear was an entirely healthy human instinct when confronted with someone who could turn into mist, mesmerize the unwary and tear open your throat in the blink of an eye! It didn't mean she hated them, or begrudged their right to exist so long as they stuck to feeding off willing donors or animals or that new cloned plasma stuff, but she was definitely afraid of them.
And this one could fire her, on top of everything else. "I'm not," she said, trying to tell herself that it was entirely true in the sense that Isabella used the word. She wasn't sure if her boss had the ability to read minds on top of everything else, not all of them had the same gifts. But better to be safe than sorry. "Really, I'm not. It's just, you know...it's a little different when you're alone. I mean, alone with, with...um. You know." She trailed off, trying to find a way to say it that didn't make her sound prejudiced. "With someone like you."
Isabella looked hurt. That was the worst part. Lori's gut churned with a mixture of shame and defensive anger. She didn't have the right to look hurt! She was an immortal queen of the night who rode the shadows and feasted by moonlight, she didn't get to have hurt feelings because someone felt nervous around her! "Do you really think that I would do anything to hurt you?" she asked quietly.
"No," Lori said cautiously, qualifying the statement in her head carefully to keep it from being a lie. "I don't actually think that. Even if you were a, a dangerous type-"
Isabella tightened her lips to a thin line. "Vampire on human crime is so rare as to be statistically insignificant in the United States," she said sharply, the words sounding like she could recite them by heart.
Lori tensed up, interjecting quickly before the situation could go from bad to worse. "I know, I know!" she said, nodding her head rapidly in agreement. "But my point is just that even if you were one of those, those one in a million vampires, you wouldn't do anything here in a public place in broad daylight. I know that. Really, I do! It's just..." She sighed. "It's hard to get past it. Emotionally, I mean. Intellectually, I know you're perfectly safe, but I just can't help remembering all the people in all those horror movies who thought they were perfectly safe too."
