SNAP: The World Unfolds

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

There was only one incident in New York, and I wasn’t sure it was a Huszar problem.

It came when I left the SNAP offices to catch a breath of fresh air out on the Plaza.  As I pushed the elevator button, a man came down the hall toward me.  He reached out as though to grab my arm.

I recoiled and shouted, “What are you doing” just as Paolo came through the office door.  He pushed me away from the man, took his wrist in a hold, and whipped the arm behind the guy’s back.

“Hey, stop that,” the man cried.  “I just saw her come out of SNAP and I wanted to talk to her.”

Paolo gave the arm another tug.  “Why’d you choose this way to talk to her?  Who sent you?”

“Nobody sent me,” the guy yelled.  “Let go!  I’m a freelance writer and have a couple of ideas that the magazine might be interested in.”

“It’s alright, Paolo.  He didn’t hurt me, but he sure scared me.”  I turned to the guy.  “Give me your card and stay here with Paolo until I check out your creds.”

“Whoa, I thought you guys may have some security but this is like the Secret Service,” the man said, reaching into a pocket of his jacket.  I felt Paolo tense, but the guy just pulled out a card with the name Bob Brascker on it.

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.  Next time, just call, or better yet email a query letter.  As you can see, our security is pretty tight.”  I did a fast Google check and Brascker checked out as a freelancer.  I went back and nodded at Paolo.

Brascker grimaced as he rubbed his wrist.  “I will. I wasn’t even planning to see you, I was down the hall in another office.  As I came out, I saw you leave SNAP so I thought I’d just talk to you.  It won’t happen again.”  He nodded at me, gave the stink eye to Paolo and headed down the stairwell.

Paolo looked at me.  If demons had emotions, an area I hadn’t probed yet, his would be intense disgust.  “Jean-Louis called me last night and said that you agreed to 24-hour protection. Then first thing, you wander out of the office without telling me and get accosted.”

“How’d you happen to come out the door?”

“We installed surveillance cameras above the doors and windows,” Paolo gestured to the tiny hole above the doorframe.  “We’re putting them at houses and offices where you’re likely to be.  I’m trying to stay out of your way when you’re in a place we’ve secured, but I do watch the monitors.”

I did promise Jean-Louis I’d cooperate.  Did this mean that I was on some surveillance camera 24/7?  Did I have any privacy?  For God’s sake, were there cameras in my bathroom?

Paolo watched the questions forming.  “No, there are no cameras in the bathrooms.  There are no cameras inside the house or the office, only on the entryways.  We want to anticipate trouble.”

My need for fresh air evaporated.  I went back to my office and waited while Paolo copied a section from the surveillance DVD and sent it to Sandor.  “He may be a writer, but he could also be with the Huszars,” the demon grumbled.   “They’re crude, but they’re not stupid.  They have the money to hire spies.  And they don’t all have to be vampires, shape shifters, werewolves.  If they paid well enough, guys like him would line up to take a job watching an attractive woman who’s the managing editor of SNAP.  You forget, you’re a celebrity, too.”

That was the longest speech the demon ever made to me, an indication I’d pushed him.  He was right.  I never thought of myself as a celebrity, or anybody special outside of the world of publishing.  Today, though, things were muddled.  With the constant need for content, all media were on the lookout for people of interest.  Add the Huszars into that mix and I had become someone who was watched and needed watching

So. So, so so...I’d inadvertently messed up on my first day of being good.  I swore to myself it would get better.

When the phone rang that night, I was ready with an apology for Jean-Louis.  “I know Paolo already told you about my screw-up today,” I began as Jean-Louis said, “Are you going to L.A. tomorrow?”

“I was planning to.  Thought I’d catch an afternoon flight.”

“Don’t bother.  I’m coming back to the States.  The plane will land in Newark about 8 tomorrow night to refuel.  I’ll tell Paolo to have you there about then.”

Oh...” I said.

“Well...” I said.

 I could lose my temper with him.  Get snitty and act out teen angst.  Since I realized I was falling in love with him, it was damned hard to carry on a conversation.

I managed, “Good. I’d love to see you,” when he interrupted again. “There’re developments I want to tell you about.”

“There are things I want to ask you, too.  Starting with, how come I wasn’t told, let alone asked, about all the surveillance equipment?  Did you have guys go into my condo?”

“No, no. I’ll tell you all about that—where we’re headed next—on the plane.”

“Did Paolo send you the clip from the camera today?” I asked. 

“He did.  No one recognizes the man, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a Huszar hire.  Are you alright?”

I wrinkled my nose.  “I’m fine.  I wouldn’t have thought much about it if it weren’t for Paolo.  I’ve had people come up to me before and ask me to read their stuff or introduce them to an editor.  It’s part of being a ME.”

“Yep, I know that, and it’ll continue to happen.  That’s OK, we just want to make sure we know when you’re being approached and by who.  If we can check them out first we can stay in the background and let you be on your own.”

I was glad we weren’t on Skype so he couldn’t see me stick my tongue out before I said, “Thanks.  I need to feel as though I can do things on my own.”

“I also want to talk to you about chum,” Jean-Louis’ voice was teasing.  “Maybe we’ll play Truth or Dare; we’ll have a few hours to ourselves.”

My vulnerabilities woke up.  Five or six hours alone with Jean-Louis was a treat, a time I’d looked forward to.  Would I get some of my questions answered?  Or would this be another exercise in me learning to rein in my temper and competitiveness.  Good, healthy competition with him in the business arena benefitted SNAP and added spice to our relationship.  I knew he saw me as an equal in the work world and respected my abilities, my brains, my talents.  Personally though, I needed to figure out ways to communicate and cooperate.

Any relationship we had, or developed, was overshadowed by a few basic facts.

He was a vampire.

I worked for a company owned by vampires.

He was a high-ranking member of the family I worked for.

His family was involved in a growing dispute with another vampire family.

I was the catalyst for, and a pawn in, the dispute.

Oooh, putting this tangled mess on an assets and deficits chart was impossible.  The only two assets were my job and my feelings for Jean-Louis and each of these was a muddied deficit as well.

Before I tried to sleep I left text and voice messages for Harry that I‘d be in about noon and was leaving for the Coast later that night.