So I'm a Vampire... Now What? - Book 2 (Original Version)

Chapter 3.1: Under New Management (pt1)

"EVICTED? Are you fucking SERIOUS?"

Yelling at Sammy was never the right decision in normal circumstances. We'd argued, but I'd never actually yelled at Sammy. I'd seen the aftermath of that with a a few idiot customers, and one particularly stupid ex-coworker who had felt that they somehow had the right (and the balls) to yell at the diminutive Chinese, punk-rock girl standing in front of them.

Sammy's hand snaked out lighting quick, grabbed me by the earlobe and yanked my head down to her eye-level. The pain was instant and eye-watering, and most of all, surprising. It was an immediate confirmation that I had fucked up.

"I'm sorry," Sammy snapped, completely deadpan, and entirely in control of the pain in my ear. "Did I fucking interrupt you?"

Goddamn, it felt like she was ripping the ear off at the base. On the other hand, Sammy hadn't slammed my head down onto the counter in a move that was guaranteed to break my nose. I had seen her perform that particular parlour trick on a customer who had tried to hit her, so I knew what she was capable of. It was how that altercation had ended, but then again, Sammy hadn't exactly been trying to continue the conversation.

"Sorry, so sorry, ow, my bad, can you please stop now?"

"The only fucking reason I'm letting you keep your goddamn ear is because I actually like you—"

"Really?"

"Only kinda-sorta. Tell anybody I said that and you owe me a fucking ear," Sammy said and gave it an extra twist as she let go.

I backed away quickly, sure that it would be bleeding. I gave Sammy another look, wondering what had gotten her so pissed off. We had always had a decent relationship, which had developed into an actual friendship, the kind of bond a guy and a girl can have when one of them isn't trying to get the other one into bed or into an often ill-advised relationship. Sammy was tougher than she looked, but then again, nobody ever thought that a 5'2" Chinese girl would be much of a threat. She usually dressed like a cross between a street tough and a slutty Goth. Working in a grungy porn shop like the one we worked in, that was often a recipe for disaster, but Sammy held her own against the worst customers, even the ones she'd had to send to the hospital. The Boss liked her, and the customers loved her, and it wasn't just because of her looks. She looked almost angelic, especially when she wore her hair in curls. Sammy was pretty and damn sexy in the way she held herself, full of confidence and coiled energy, waiting to unleash. She also swore like a pirate, her mouth being the direct descendent of the dirtiest pirates you can imagine, but it was hard for anyone to reconcile the cussing they had just heard with the pretty girl smiling sweetly at them. Needless to say, Sammy was the master of the mind-fuck.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked, prodding at my ear, not liking the way the cartilage was moving under my fingers. "That really fucking hurt."

"It's been a bad couple of weeks," Sammy said darkly. "First, we have a new owner who promptly fires everybody except me, and then makes me into the fucking manager!"

I was as shocked as she looked.

"The manager? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I know, right? I don't want that level of responsibility! I've been dealing with hiring new staff, which is bad enough by itself, but now the new Boss is buying shit without asking me. Deliveries have been coming in all week, and I've got forty-eight boxes of dildoes that we don't need and won't sell because who the fuck buys that many dildoes?"

"I'm still at the part where they made you the manager. Can we back up to that?"

"NO!"

"You want to be a manager?"

"Fuck no," Sammy said. Then: "Pay's good, though. So fucking good, it's hard to say no, but now I've got all of this shit to deal with. Including kicking your ass out onto the street. It's an insurance thing, and your room is going to be turned into a breakroom. Apparently, that's what it's always to have been used for."

I stood there for a long moment, my mind racing, my mouth trying and failing to form some kind of coherent sentence. My brain was refusing to come up with anything, so I closed my mouth, aware that I probably looked like a lost goldfish.

The old boss had rented out the upstairs room to me for weekly meetings of my vampire support group. It was reasonably cheap, but still a strain at my salary level, and it was convenient, and laziness wins out over price sometimes. At least I hadn't had to go out to other places and deal with potentially nosy strangers wondering what we were getting up to in our room. With the Boss, at least I knew he hadn't given a solitary fuck about anything. Especially after I had inadvertently glammered him. After that, he had been a little more agreeable. He had refused to budge on the price or give me a raise, so there was a limit to what my glammer could affect. Maybe if I tried it on someone who didn't hate me, or even knows me...

"Is the new Boss in? Maybe I can talk to him—"

" 'He's' a 'she' and no, you can't talk to her. You don't even work here anymore." Sammy presented a sealed envelope to me. It had my name scrawled on it in her handwriting. "This is the letter and your final paycheque, formally terminating your employment with Bacchus Industries Inc—"

"I'm fired? You can't be serious—"

Sammy presented a clipboard with what looked like an official form on it. Most of it had already been filled in.

"And here's your employment offer letter and application," Sammy said smugly. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and sign where I've marked, and you can have your job back, shitty pay and all."

"Do I at least get a raise?" I asked as I signed at the three places she had indicated. "Where did you get my info from anyway?"

"Your old application form, dumbass. Figured it would save some time."

"Do you really have to kick us out? Winter's coming, and it's going to suck finding a new space right now."

"Listen up 'Jon Snow': I'm going to file that under 'not my fucking problem' and we're going to move on from that. Don't worry so much dude. Between the five of you, something will turn up."

"You're a terrible manager," I glared at her.

"And you're a terrible employee, so this ought to be fun."

I grinned at Sammy, glad she was on my side. My ear still fucking hurt, so there was that, but again, it could have been a lot worse.

"You're not expecting me to start tonight, right?"

"Actually I was—"

"Only it's Thursday night, and the guys are waiting outside. And apparently, we have to go find a new place to meet, so..."

"Once again, something that's not my fucking problem. There seems to be a fuckton of those coming from you in the past twenty seconds. What I want, is for Bob, my buddy, my pal, old Bobberino, to show some fucking gratitude for me getting his fucking job back for him, and stick around to help me with my dildo problem."

"Except... I don't want to do that."

Sammy just looked at me. Silence speaks louder than words sometimes, especially stupid fucking words like the ones that had fallen out of my mouth just then.

Silence fucking booms.

Sammy took a deep breath before she spoke, and there was that underlying threat, that steel in her voice that I had never wanted to hear directed at me.

"Bob, it's great that you're back and recovered and shit, and I know you've had a lot going on, with the accident and all, but I need you to be on my team right fucking now. I'm not asking for a lot, just for you to do that one thing for me."

I shrugged and nodded, glad that the silence was gone, but still aware that I was on the razor's edge of losing one of the few people who truly cared for me.

"Gimme a pricing gun and point me in the direction of the dildoes."

####AUTHOR'S NOTE######

Sammy's back! And some complications arise, of course. Hope you like her re-introduction.