Chapter 1
Present
"God, what an awful day," Sylvia mutters to herself as she steps into her third story apartment, dripping wet from head to toe. A small tabby cat with one orange paw walks toward her and tangles himself between Sylvia's short slim legs.
"Oh, hey Sammy. Guess what boy," she asks the cat as she turns on the lights and heads to the bathroom to dry herself off, the small, little orange cat following in her ever step.
"Alright, since you're not going to guess," she continues to say to the cat. "It was raining, again, and I didn't have an umbrella. You know why I didn't have an umbrella?"
Sammy just tilt's his head to the side like he was truing to understand what this strange woman was trying to tell him.
"I didn't have an umbrella because the weather man said the rain was finally clearing up. So I believed him, though I don't know why. I mean we live in Tulsa, Oklahoma, which means it rains 24/7 every April!"
Sylvia grabbed a towel off the shower rack and started drying her hair. She looked down at Sammy who tilted his head to the other side. Oh whom am I kidding? she thought to herself. I'm talking to a cat. I'm cold and wet, and stupid for thinking that it wasn't going to rain. Plus I almost lost my job, again!
Sylvia worked as a secretary for a man at a business magazine. The man, who's name was Joseph, was a really nice guy if you had the bra size of DD and your IQ was an average of 70. Other then that he was the type of man who would bitch and complain about everything. Especially when Sylvia did something "wrong". Today for example, when she was picking up Joseph's coffee from an intern, the intern had given her the wrong coffee. So when she gave the coffee to Joseph, he had almost spit it up on her new white blouse. Then when Joseph had an interview with some big business man from Wall Street, he had forgotten about it – even though Sylvia had reminded him every 5 minutes. So instead of being a big boy about it, he had blamed it on Sylvia. And that's what almost got her fired – again.
She hated her job, but the reason she stayed and worked for the bastard was because he paid really good money. If she had any other job she would probably be living somewhere less nice – or with her mother. One of the very few reasons she stayed with Joseph was because she had a really nice apartment. It was two bedroom, 2 bathrooms, and one kitchen. The second bedroom was Sylvia's office/music studio. She had countless CD's lining the walls with her favorite music artist. Attached to the apartment was a balcony that stretched from the living room to the main bedroom and it overlooked that courtyard and pool of building. She liked her apartment, but she didn't like her job.
Sylvia did have a bachelor degree in art history and a master's degree in literature; she just didn't know what to do with them. So instead of going out into the world and doing what she wanted to do, she was stuck working for Joseph.
She heaved out a deep sigh, thinking to herself. As she was walking out of the bathroom and into her bedroom to change out of her clothes, she caught her reflection I the antique mirror. She was pretty attractive for a 35-year-old woman with no wrinkles. Heart shaped face with light green eyes, naturally tanned skin (for being in an almost sunless town) and long brown hair. She was always pretty small, but she had curve's even Beyonce herself would be jealous of. Although her breasts weren't as perky and fresh as they used to be – neither was her ass – but some how they were still attractive. More round, more women.
Another sigh escaped her lungs. Sylvia stepped into her bedroom and slipped out of her wet work clothing and tossed them into the hamper. She walked naked to the other side of the room to find her robe. Sammy gave Sylvia a look that practically screamed she was crazy. Sylvia couldn't blame the strange cat with almost human expressions she was a bit crazy.
As she grabbed her robe off the floor and tied it around her, she looked down at the tomcat.
"What," she asks him. "You've never seen a naked women before?"
Sammy's reaction was boring as ever. All he did was lick his paw and act like the mad women wasn't talking to him.
Ignoring his reaction Sylvia picked up the cat and gave it a big, wet, noisy kiss. "Oh, I'm sure you've seen plenty of naked women before! I mean with a face like that, what women wouldn't want to strip down to her bathing suit."
Laughing to herself, Sylvia headed toward the kitchen.
"Come on, Silly Sammy, let's see what we can cook up for dinner."
Averill watched as Sylvia got out of her car and run up to her dry, warm apartment. It was still raining outside – had been for hours now – but neither the cold rain nor the bitter wind bothered Averill. The only thing that did bother him was not being able to see Sylvia, or talk to her, or touch her. He had so badly wanted to run out of his hiding place behind the trees and meet her. He had wanted to push her against the car door and devour her mouth with his and sink his hands into her soft flowing hair. But he knew he couldn't do that. He knew that if he did that then she would probably spray the pepper spray that she always kept in her purse at him. Sylvia didn't remember him, but that was good. She wasn't supposed to remember him.
Averill started to walk toward the courtyard of the building, the rain picking up. He could hear thunder billowing in the distance and started to count. As he entered the courtyard and looked up at the third story balcony were Sylvia was now safe and warm, he new he was doing the wrong thing. He wasn't supposed to be there. It was dangerous for him but especially her. Suddenly there was a crack in the sky. The real storm was about eight miles away but the wind was rushing to the east so the storm would reach Sylvia's apartment – soon.
Averill looked up to the balcony and saw Sylvia's outline against the curtains dancing around the living room. If he listened very carefully – and ignored the on coming storm – he might just hear Sylvia's favorite music artist – John Mayer. Sylvia absolutely loved his music, especially his song "Daughters".
He laughed darkly to himself. He could never understand Sylvia's obsession with art of all kinds, but especially music – music and food. She had countless CD's with all her favorite artists. And the food she made was incredible. He never ate any of the meals she made when they were together, but the smell alone was mouth watering. He really missed her cooking – and her dancing. Gods, I'm pathetic, he thought to himself.
Another crack of lightning illuminated the sky. The storm was a big one – it was probably going to be the biggest one of the years. Thunder billowed in the distance four seconds later. The storm was on its way and it was closing in like two magnates being pushed together. Averill had to leave soon, he didn't want to get caught in a night like this, but he couldn't leave – not yet. He had to see Sylvia just once before he left. He was weak and he knew it, but when he was so close to her, he just had to have a glimpse of her. Just one glimpse.
The balconies that lead to Sylvia's apartment wasn't that far from the ground, so one jump from where Averill was good enough to make it. After he was a vampire and making a jump like that was nothing. He looked around himself to check if any of the residence was taking a stroll in the cold rain. Of course there was no one, only a crazy person would take a stroll on a night like this. And if anyone was looking out their windows, all they would see is a black blob flying through the air – thinking it might just be a shocked crow.
Averill bent down into a low crouch, the balls of his feet moving from side to side. Just when he was starting to get comfortable, he jumped up and sprung to the balcony he was heading for. His hands grabbed the side railing and he started to pull himself up. He landed with a low grunt and sled to the floor, the balcony above sheltering him from the rain. He could hear behind the doors a song by another one of Sylvia's favorite artists. He laughed when he recognized the title. It was "Another Rainy Day" by Corrine Bailey Rae
"How ironic," he said in his deep voice. Then the sound of laughter filed his ears. He hadn't heard that laugh in 17 years. Averill stood up and looked at the curtains for a crack. He finally found one and when he stared into to all the breath and the little heat he had in his body rushed out. Sylvia was sitting on her little round kitchen table eating lasagna – Averill could smell the cheese and garlic that she put it in it. Sitting next to her was that weird cat that she sometimes called Silly Sammy. He could now see the reason she was laughing. Somehow Sammy stated eating Sylvia's dinner without her noticing – the sneaky cat.
"Sammy, I swear each time I make lasagna you just want to eat all of it! I should have named you Garfield instead of Sammy," Sylvia's voice came from the room and when Averill heard it he swore that all of his bones started to melt. Her voice was like a siren singing to him. She looked so beautiful at that point. Even though her hair was in a tight bun on top of her head and she was only in her bathrobe, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She looked different somehow sitting in her chair laughing at her cat. She looked more round like she had lost the perkiness from her twenties. She had the body of a real woman now. And even though her body had changed just a bit her face was still as beautiful and fresh as ever, her light green eyes standing out against her dark skin and brown hair. He started to fell a burning need for her each minute he was standing there. Gods he missed her.
As he was looking at her a yawn escaped her heart shaped lips. Her boss had probably given her another crappy day. Gods her hated her boss, he wished she would just quit her job and do what she wanted to with her life. Isn't that what she taught him? To do what he wanted to with his life. It's seems like Sylvia changed in a different way, too
"Come on, Silly Sammy, I'm drained. Lets go to bed," she picked up the cat off the table, leaving the dishes to be washed in the morning, and headed to the main bedroom. Averill rushed to the other door that connected to the bedroom and tried to find another crack in the curtains. He had to see her before she laid to rest. He found the split that separated the two curtains and when he looked in the room the burning need in his loins turned into a wildfire. Sylvia had set the cat down on the bed and had undone the knot that held her robe together. She carefully slid her arms out of the robe and dropped it to the floor where it turned into a pool of silk around her feet. When she walked to big antique that was next to the window to undo her tight bun, Averill got a full view of her. He sucked in a sharp breath and swore. Her body was more women then he ever saw and she had more self-confidence then he ever saw in her. Her hands then went up to the top of her head to unwind the bun, her breast jiggling with each movement. Averill couldn't stand it any more. He had to get away now or he would burst in and take her right then and there. But he didn't, Averill had to make sure that Sylvia was safe in her bed before he left. She finally answered his preys when she started to walk – still naked – to the bed. He buttock bouncing in rhythm with her steps, practically begging for Averill's touch. She finally reached the bed and crawled in to snuggle next to her cat, then reached turned off the bedside lamp. When she finally turned them off and laid her head against the pillow lightning suddenly illuminated the sky, casting Averill's shadow into the room. But he was safe for there was no way Sylvia would see him. She was already in a deep sleep her chest rhythmically rising and falling. Averill turned for the door and jumped down back into the courtyard when he knew she was finally safe and asleep. The storm had finally hit and it was raining havoc to the building and surrounding houses, Averill was glad that he hadn't left later. He stepped out of the courtyard and walked to his black Mercedes in the parking lot. When he got in, turned the key in the ignition and drove off he promised himself that he would see her tomorrow – no matter what.
