Page 7 of Dad Bod: Vampire

I should probably re-record it, but I’m dying to get my new toy out and take it for a spin.

The following week, there’s a loud knock on my door. Now, I realize that people knock on doors. But not usually my door. I don’t have any family. I don’t really have friends except a couple from college who have since gotten married and moved on. So it’s just me and Figs. Which is why it’s unusual for me to have people standing on my porch.

I look through the peep hole and see three sizable men.

“Ms. Breit, don’t be alarmed. We have a package from Mr. Wells to deliver and he gave us explicit instructions that we weren’t to leave until everything was set up.”

Another gift? And this one requires three guys to put it together?

I open the door, but not very far.

The main guy, the one who was talking, has kind eyes. You learn to watch for those sorts of things when you’re in the system. The difference between a truly kind person and one who pretends is sometimes a fine line. But I’ve gotten good at assessing people.

“I’m Mark,” he says, pointing to his chest. “This is Pete and John.”

“Mr. Wells sent you? Here?”

“Yes ma’am,” Mark says. “We have a new desk and office chair to install for you.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t request⁠—”

“Yes, he said as much. But he sent a letter explaining everything.” Mark holds out an envelope to me. “You can get started, I guess. But please don’t let the cat outside. He’s not much of a runner, but sometimes he gets a little sassy.”

They nod as I sit on my sofa to open the envelope.

Dear Ms. Breit,

I read a recent study about the negative effects of computer work on a person’s back and hips. It would not sit right with me if I were the cause of such injuries to your body. So, I’ve sent the guys with a state-of-the-art desk that can easily transform from a sitting to a standing desk. The chair you’ll find is ergonomically designed. Please let me know if you need any additional supplies.

Sincerely,

H. Wells

There’s not a tremendous amount of room in my duplex so I hope the pieces aren’t too big. I show the guys where to set it up and they readily go about moving my makeshift desk out of the way.

Two hours later, the guys have finished putting together my new desk and chair. I send the guys off with my thanks and feel terrible that I didn’t have any cash to tip them. But they assured me they’d been paid well for the job.

The conversion from sitting to standing happens with just a press of a button. And the chair is so comfortable, I think I could sit here all day.

As if he inherently knows what I need, he sent me this desk. Because I can’t sit all day. The scar tissue on my back would never allow for that. So I’m often sitting, then standing, then lying down just to keep from pain. I’ve never told any of these things to Mr. Wells, but he knew just what I needed.

This is definitely not going to help with the ridiculous crush I have on him.

Yep, I’m a walking cliche. I’ve fallen for my boss. We’ve never even met face-to-face, but that doesn’t stop my heart from racing as soon as I hear the video chatting ring from my laptop. Or even just his name popping up on my phone with an incoming text. I am ridiculous. I do realize this.

He’s probably married. I haven’t asked.

Which I should definitely not do because he is my boss and his marriage—hypothetical or real—is none of my business.

chapter

five

Hudson

The package came hand-addressed and taped up. Seeing her loopy handwriting, a little smeared, feels intimate somehow. I rub my thumb across my name as if I can capture part of her in the pen marks.

Fuck, I’m getting dramatic in my old age. I don’t even bother trying to do the math to figure out my literal age. That’s the single perk about being a creature of the night. You stop aging. You’re locked in to where you were the precise moment you were turned.