"I'd love a zombie."
Mavis laughed. "I know how to make a martini, Vlad. I don't have the faintest idea of how to make a zombie."
Vlad rose from the sofa smoothly and headed for the bar. "I'll make it," he announced. "I'll make you one too," he offered.
Mavis shook her head. "No, thank you. I don't believe I'd care for one."
Vlad fixed her with a wicked grin. "You never know until you try, Mavis."
Oh, dear. This man was too suave for her own good. He reminded her of a Cold War spy straight out of "The Man From U.N.C.L.E." Mavis knew that she needed to keep her senses about her but she had to admit that Vlad was quite attractive. Really, far too attractive for her late sister-in-law to have snagged. "I'll stick with my usual, thanks just the same."
Vlad shrugged as he busied himself behind the bar. "Your choice. I never force my taste on anyone else but especially not on beautiful woman. You are a beautiful woman--you know that, don't you, Mavis?"
"Of course," Mavis said.
"I like how you don't pretend to be modest. Modest women are so boring. I can tell that there's nothing boring about you."
"I've been called many things but boring isn't one of them," Mavis agreed.
Vlad returned to the sofa with his drink. He looked good sitting next to her, far better than Peter had. Peter was probably a little more handsome than Vlad but Vlad had a much stronger personality. A more masterful presence. A shiver ran down Mavis's spine. It would be nice to be involved with someone masterful. "So," Vlad began, "let's begin."
"Begin what?"
"Begin to talk about why I'm here, Mavushka."
Mavis blinked. Why was Vlad sitting in her living room in front of a blazing fire and sipping a zombie? Oh, right. Her niece, Tiffany. His maybe daughter. "I suppose you want to see Tiffany."
"That would be nice but first I'd like to hear about her. What's she like? Does she look like me?"
Mavis squinted at Vlad through slightly martini fogged eyes. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if Tiffany resembled Vlad. Tiffany with her blonde hair and full figure was a dead ringer for her mother. "Not really."
"Does she look more like Lynette's husband?"
"No..."
"Then who does she look like? The milkman?"
Vlad's temper seemed to be of the hair trigger variety. "She looks like Lynnette. Tiffany is a Schuyler, through and through."
Vlad relaxed slightly. "I'm sure her personality is more like mine. I'm sure that's she's an extremely intelligent, charming young woman."
"Well," Mavis began, "she isn't what you'd call an honor student and she really isn't all that charming around me but that might be because she's a teenager. I've never met a truly charming teenager. Why don't I have her over for dinner tomorrow and you can come too?"
Vlad's eyes darkened. "And that other man--her possible father?"
"I won't tell Tom that you'll be here. It will be our little secret."
Vlad reached out and took Mavis's hand. "Mavushka, I like the way you think," he told her. "I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship."
Mavis smiled back at him. It certainly seemed like the start of something...
No comments:
Post a Comment