Thirty-seven steps. Misty Jordan still clearly remembered the number of concrete steps leading up to the big, old green house with the gothic tower she’d only been inside once. That one time had been thirteen years earlier. That one time had changed her life permanently.

The house stood next to a funeral home and across the road from a cemetery. You couldn’t ask for anything creepier in a horror movie, but this was real life. Standing at the bottom of the steps, she gazed upward at the house. It was an unusually cold September, and even though it was only seven o’clock, it was a dark, drizzly evening in Pittsburgh. Even her breath could be seen; it was so cold. How unusual, she thought, winter’s coming early. Hopefully it wasn’t an omen of things to come.

A beep of the horn from the taxi parked at the curbside reminded her that she was here for a purpose. It was now or never. In two hours she’d be on a plane back to Florida and this whole event would be over.

She ascended the steps with a feeling of impending doom. “Damn therapist,” she muttered under her breath. It was Chloe Stevens, her long-time therapist, who’d impressed upon Misty for years that the only way she could go on with her life was to gain closure. And closure meant facing Jaydan Evans again.

Misty sighed as she reached the front door. Maybe he isn’t home, she hoped. No, he had to be home. This visit had been put off for too many years. First, she promised herself she’d confront Jaydan before she was twenty. Being sixteen at that time, she’d thought twenty was a mature age. But twenty turned to twenty-five, and before she knew it, she was twenty-nine. And this year, she’d made up her mind that life was beginning for her at thirty, no matter how hard she tried to put it off.

She strode up to the door, knocked loudly and stood back on the porch. Would he remember her? Probably not. It was only one night out of his life and likely meant nothing to him. Besides, several cosmetic surgeries had altered her appearance anyway. Her own mother probably wouldn’t even recognize her anymore.

She heard a noise from inside the house and her nerves twisted. Someone was home and she wanted to run. The door opened and Jaydan Evans stood there only illuminated by the light coming from inside the house. He was a tall, looming figure dressed in a Tee shirt and jeans.

A vampire. All the kids growing up in the old neighborhood all those years ago said a vampire lived in that old, green house set across the road from a cemetery. Before Misty could speak, he said, “I’m so glad you decided to come. I thought for sure you’d back out, and I can’t say I’d blame you for that.” He smiled and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Jaydan.”

Misty’s mind raced. What was he talking about? Who did he think she was? A prostitute? Maybe a sales person? “I…I’m Misty,” she stammered, rubbing her cold hands together.

“Come on in,” he offered.

“I…I have a taxi waiting.” Mentally she cursed her stammering. He’d caught her off guard and now she was unbalanced. She knew she had to try to explain who she was.

He looked at the taxi, and the driver beeped again. “You must have your mind made up before you got here that you didn’t want this job. You’re ready to run for it.” He winked.

What job? Her mind raced and her thoughts scattered.

“Listen, I have an idea,” he began. “Let’s send away your taxi for now and talk about what I’m offering, and when we’re through, I’ll make sure you get to wherever it is you’re going.”

She looked up into his face. He’d aged a bit; he had to be at least forty now. His blue eyes were luminous in the near darkness. She knew she’d better say something intelligent now. There was only a short time left before she needed to be at the airport to catch her flight home, but right now, there was so much to tell him. Her flight could be rescheduled. “Alright, but I have my luggage in the cab.”

“I’ll get it,” he offered. “Why don’t you go inside and warm up? It’s an awfully cold night for September.”

She nodded numbly. Nothing was going as she planned. He obviously thought she was there for some kind of job interview.

Misty stepped into the foyer. There was a dark red shade on the walls and the floors were hardwood. This house was as creepy on the inside as on the outside, but it was warm. Quickly, Misty gathered her thoughts while Jaydan got her luggage.

As soon as he returned, she’d tell him everything and make a hasty exit.

The one night they shared thirteen years earlier, while he was intoxicated, produced a pregnancy he never knew about. When she attempted to tell him at the time, she’d found out he was getting married, that his new wife was already several months pregnant at the time of their wedding.

Several years later Misty found out that his wife and child were killed in some sort of accident. So Misty never told Jaydan about their son and what had happened to him. It continued to haunt her.

A cold knot formed in her stomach; it always did when she thought of the baby. But she needed to be strong and tell Jaydan everything: How her mother had thrown her out when she found out Misty was six-months pregnant. How she was assaulted by a gang of youths and ended up in the hospital for over a month. There were the surgeries to reset her bones and repair her face, and the poor baby who was too premature to survive his teenage mother’s ordeal.

“Hello.”

Jaydan’s warm voice broke up her thoughts and she turned to face him, her arms crossed her chest. She looked at him in the foyer’s light. He hadn’t changed very much over the years except that his black hair was now streaked with a gray that gave him a distinguished, sexy quality. His eyes were still as blue as ever. He smiled uncertainly. “You’re really nervous, I can tell. Don’t be. I guess you’ve never interviewed for a job like the one I have to offer.”

What was this job he kept speaking of, she wondered.

“Come on into the kitchen,” he gestured for her to follow him. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, coffee would be nice.” She followed him. The house was still decorated in a Victorian style, but the kitchen was modern with new appliances and tile flooring. Slipping off her raspberry colored sweater coat, she placed it on the back of the chair, sat at the kitchen table, and watched him place the kettle on the stove.

“I’m sorry this coffee is instant. I don’t have an automatic drip. I should get one, really. My last employee and my former mother-in-law prefer tea. I prefer coffee, good coffee, and not this crap. But over time I got used to tea.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind instant.” Misty wondered how to begin telling him her story.

He set the coffee cup in front of her and took a seat at the table. “Martha didn’t tell me you were so young. I was expecting someone much older. I didn’t think anyone as young as you would want a job like this.”

“Well, I…”

“Never mind, though. Let me tell you about what I’m looking for.”

Misty nodded, wondering miserably to herself why she couldn’t bring herself to stop Jaydan and tell him who she really was and why she was really there.

“I own a magazine called Candy Girl. Actually, it was started by my grandmother and passed down to me from my mother.”

“Candy Girl? I don’t think I’m familiar with that magazine.” She lifted the cup to her lips.

“It’s a men’s entertainment magazine,” he said wryly.

Misty’s face heated and she cleared her throat. “Oh, a nudie magazine.”

“It’s not filth for God’s sake,” he chuckled. “I think my magazine is very tasteful. Just because there’s some eye candy to look at, doesn’t mean it’s porn. Of course, everyone’s interpretation of porn is different,” he grinned.

“Of course it is.” A smile broke on her face and she avoided his gaze. He wasn’t the monster that she imagined he’d be; he was just a normal, average guy who happened to own a nudie magazine and live in a big, creepy old house.

“Excuse me, but do I know you?” He squinted at her. “You look very familiar.”

She bit into her lip and her heart sped. Did he remember? What should she say? Oh, we had a one-night stand one night when you were drunk… Instead, she said, “I grew up in this neighborhood, on Maybelle Street.”

He nodded. “Ah, I must have seen you around over the years then. I never forget a pair of beautiful brown eyes.”

Blushing, she changed the subject. “I’ve lived in Florida the last several years. I design lingerie and owned my own shop in a mall there. I recently sold it.”

“I see. You’re a business woman.” He nodded knowingly. “So now you’re looking to regroup and rethink your future, though I can’t fathom a reason you’d leave the sun and fun of Florida for winter again.”

She found it difficult to make eye contact with him. Instead, her eyes took in his green Tee shirt and his large hands that were wrapped around his coffee cup. “Something like that,” she mumbled.

“Well, I think this job might be just what you’re looking for. It takes a special person. All of the employment agencies I’ve contacted can’t find anyone to fill my needs.”

“Your needs?” What kind of ‘needs’ was he talking about?

“It’s very simple, Misty. I handle quite a bit of the magazine’s day-to-day duties on my own. I’m tired of it. I want to sell the magazine, or if I can’t get a buyer I’ll let it fold next year when the magazine celebrates its fiftieth anniversary.” He stood up from the table and began making a second cup of coffee.

“Why?” she asked curiously.

“The internet is causing the men’s entertainment magazines to go bankrupt. Anyone can turn on their computer and download as much porn as they want. The subscriptions are way down and I don’t think there’s any hope for a recovery.

A magazine has to have at least three months from shoot to print. The internet is almost instantaneous—they can do a model shoot and upload it immediately for the viewer to buy. They can add pages constantly to keep the site new and interesting. Thus, the paying customer comes back to something new and fresh whenever he feels like it and is greeted by something new every visit. To the customer, he’s getting his money’s worth.”

She paused to consider what he said, and then was struck by an idea. “What about combat?”

“What?” he asked, puzzled.

“If you can’t beat them on your own ground, invade the enemy’s territory. Start a website that’s an off-shoot of your magazine.”

He sighed. “I’ve thought about that. I admit I haven’t really looked that closely into what it would actually take to get a Candy Girl website up and running, but my fear is that the only way I can compete is with hardcore porn. I don’t want my Candy Girl moving in that direction.

“I understand.”

“Anyway, back to the job. I need an assistant to help alleviate some of the work I’m currently doing, take messages for the sales team, especially dealing with the photographers and advertisers and all the people I don’t want to speak with. I also need you to be able to go to the post office and handle the correspondence on a daily basis.” He shook his head. “The mail…the mail is a nightmare.”

“It sounds very interesting,” Misty said toying with her coffee cup. It actually was interesting.

“And, maybe you can research the internet idea. It’s worth consideration, but so is retirement.”

She continued to stare into her coffee cup. “Yes, early retirement must be extremely tempting.”

“There’s more to the job, Misty.”

She looked up and his eyes finally met hers. There was something chilling in his handsome face.

“I’m a very introverted person. I don’t go out very much, and in the winter, I won’t drive at all. Please don’t ask me why, Misty. It’s very personal and I don’t know if I’d ever be able to talk about it with you.”

She gripped the handle of the ceramic cup until her knuckles turned white. Tell him now! Her conscience prodded her. Tell him now before you get too deeply involved. Go home where you belong. But as hard as she tried she couldn’t form the words.

“Did Martha tell you this is a live-in position? I often work long into the night to meet deadlines. Missing deadlines costs money. But if I kept you awake all night I wouldn’t expect you to work at all the next day. It’s very flexible.”

She wondered who Martha was and what would happen if the real applicant showed up at any minute. If she did, there was going to be a lot of explaining to do. When she didn’t answer, he continued.

“As you know, Martha was a widow and didn’t have much more of a life than I did. But we coexisted peacefully here for the last three years. She isn’t a prude and she did a damn good job with helping me keep Candy going. I can’t blame her for leaving since her son is so ill, and I am grateful that she recommended you.” He shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “But I do have to tell you, Misty, that I can’t have a party girl living here or strangers traipsing in and out of the house. I’m prepared to pay you a damn fine wage, stay out of your business and your life, and when I sell the magazine next year, a very generous send off bonus. You’d be set financially for quite a while.”

She couldn’t believe what he was offering. A chance to regroup from selling her own business in quiet rent-free surroundings and plenty of money. But how could she work with…live with the man who was her first and only lover, the father of her long dead son? The man who didn’t even remember her? Didn’t know he nearly had a son. Her insides lurched and she grabbed her stomach and hoped he didn’t notice. If things were only different…

But maybe it was a chance for a new beginning. To stay in her hometown and spend time with her adoptive parents and her brother, to maybe be reacquainted with the friends she left behind, to maybe save enough money to travel around the world visiting all of the exotic places she only dreamed of. There’d be time to tell Jaydan everything…once they knew each other better. Maybe it would all work out for the best. Maybe it was unfair of her to just blurt everything out at once. Yes, she would stay. It’s time for me to begin the rest of my life, she resolved.

Finally, she spoke. “I don’t party, Jaydan. I’m very independent and I wouldn’t disturb you or infringe on your lifestyle. I think this situation could benefit both of us greatly.” Standing up from the table, she extended her hand, which he shook firmly.

He smiled broadly. “Welcome aboard. Let’s get better acquainted and I’ll show you around the house.”