jump in my car to get down to Palo Alto, but I want to tell you both something before I leave. William isn’t the villain you imagine. I scanned the newspaper advertisements every Sunday looking for a listing for his band. I took the taxi, unannounced, to his show. And I am the one who pushed to have sex…and he turned me down. I chased him.”
This seemed to catch Lily by surprise. “Olivia, honey,” she said gently. “Are you sure you want to go for something so complicated for your first serious boyfriend?”
Ouch. Leave it to my best friend to state the obvious. Of course, I hadn’t planned on having a boyfriend. I hadn’t planned on a century-old vampire catching my heart.
“William is different,” I said, sounding like a cliché. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. He is intelligent and funny…”
“He’s dead,” Elsa said, interrupting me. “He drinks human blood. Can I ask where you see this thing going? Did you tell him about the Council, about your work?” It was clear Elsa didn’t like vampires. She didn’t seem to trust them. It was a deep-set feeling that I didn’t think I could change at the moment. So I didn’t try.
“I’m not sure where it’s going,” I said. “He doesn’t know about the Council. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a campaign meeting.”
****
CHAPTER 20
Once I was in my car, I phoned Levi and Gabriel. Despite being thrown off my regular routine, I managed to check in with them by phone at a time that was still within my normal schedule. It was thrilling to have the first part of my day occupied by a make-out session with my boyfriend, rather than campaign duties. I hoped I wasn’t overstating things too much by calling him my boyfriend. Maybe a human man would have said we were dating, but I’d been the first woman to sleep at William’s home. I didn’t believe a vampire would compromise his privacy for a date, especially one that hadn’t involved the removal of clothes.
I quickly put all of my giddiness behind me as I set out on Highway 101. My calls to both men were brief, but important. We were opening a new campaign office in Palo Alto, a wealthy quasi-suburban community that also is home to Stanford University. We were going to open the office with a kick-off party that evening where volunteers could come after work and celebrate with a glass of wine before picking up their supplies. Gabriel and Levi would be arriving at 5:30. The party began at 6 pm
I hung up with both men just as my office called and patched me through to Patrick Wright, the day-to-day manager of the campaign.
“The first shipment of door hangers has arrived,” he said.
“What about window signs?” I asked in response, hoping they too had been delivered.
“Yep, they’re here,” Patrick said. “All 2,000. Now all we need is an army of volunteers to deliver them.”
“Amen,” I said. “I hear you. I’ll be there in thirty minutes and we can go over the rest of this.”
As promised, thirty minutes later, I pulled into a parking spot on University Avenue and walked toward the headquarters, which had already been decorated with “Levi Barnes for Congress” and “Barnes for Seat 15” campaign signs. As I got closer, I noticed a man peering in the window, his hands cupped around his eyes to shield out the glare.
“Can I help you?” I asked as I approached the front door. A set of brown eyes focused on me with suspicion. He was human, I detected very quickly, and very curious.
“Is this Levi Barnes’s campaign office?” he asked.
I nodded, glancing at the dozen posters in the window. “It is but we don’t officially open until tonight,” I said. “Can I help you?”
“I’m JP Ellington,” he said, grasping my hand tightly. “I’m a reporter with the Silicon Valley News. I’ll be covering this race.”
I responded in kind. “I’m Olivia Shepherd,” I said. “I’ll be managing the campaign.” I’d had this kind of conversation dozens of times before, but never when I could read a reporter’s emotions. JP was surprised, about what I wasn’t sure, but I had a few ideas.
“You seem surprised,” I said, deciding to see what would happen.
“I am,” he said, showing no hesitation. “I guess I expected to see someone I know.
“You mean a man?”
“Yes, ah, I mean you’re not from the Valley,” he said, sounding a little sheepish.