Chapter 7

Vlad

L anding on my bedroom balcony at the mayor's mansion, with Gertrude in my arms, has long been a fantasy of mine. After so long of living alone, having the witch with me makes it truly feel like coming home. Gently setting her down, I open the balcony door, which I always leave unlocked, and we step into my dark room. Snapping my fingers, the magic candles around the room light, bathing the chamber in a warm glow. Vampires tend to prefer candlelight, our eyes being sensitive to bright light.

Gertrude looks beautiful in the candlelight. But, then, when doesn't she look beautiful? She looks around curiously and I'm suddenly self-conscious about my room. It's fairly utilitarian, with dark walls, some generic artwork my interior designer recommended, and the large king bed in the middle of the far wall. The candles lend it some soft ambiance, but I mentally compare it to Gertrude's lush and cozy room from this morning and know that mine feels cold and spartan in comparison.

It needs a woman's touch, I decide. Gertrude's touch. I'd gladly let her re-decorate my whole house if it meant that she was living here. With me .

"I always heard that the mayor's mansion was haunted," she finally says, surprising me. "But it doesn't look that way to me."

"It is," I say. "In a way. The building has a level of sentience. It sleeps most of the time, but it can do some surprising things sometimes."

"Like what?"

"Oh, moving furniture, messages in foggy windows, pelting things at unwanted guests, the usual."

Gertrude's lips quirk. "The usual, eh? Having a living house isn't very usual, even in Holiday Village. I guess I'll just have to hope that I'm not unwanted."

"Far from it," I smile. "I'm betting the house will like you."

Looking around some more, Gertrude declares, "Well it's very nice. Very neat."

The shutters quiver a little outside at the windows and I smile again.

"See, I told you it would like you," I tease. "Right now it's a very nice house, but it needs more personalization. I just don't have a lot of time for things like that."

"You are busy," she agrees. "I couldn't believe everything you had going on and there wasn't even a City Council meeting today."

"No City Council on a Holiday Week," I say. "The mayor of any neighborhood is going to be busy the week of their respective holiday, so it's easier to just not meet."

"That's a relief," she says. "I was trying to figure out how we'd explain me having to sit with you up on the council dais. I thought we'd end up having to tell the whole village about my screw-up."

"I'd never let you be embarrassed," I declare firmly. "You have to know that. I'd think of something. You shouldn't be publicly shamed because of a mistake."

"A drunken mistake," she mutters.

"Hey, stop being so hard on yourself Gertrude," I chide, stepping toward her. "You were having a hard time dealing with a break up. We've all been there."

"Have you? " she asks curiously. "I've never really seen you date anyone."

Because I was pining after you, I respond silently. The only time that I ever got drunk over a girl was over Gertrude. After she graduated high school, two years behind me, I was going to finally ask her out. I had been struggling for weeks to get the courage to do so, only to hear through the grapevine that she was with Harry. Let's just say I got sloshed that night. Aloud, I say, "Being mayor means it's hard to date. I've had a few hook-ups though and when they end, someone always gets hurt, no matter how casual it was. Relationships are messy and yours lasted for five years. You were bound to take it hard."

"I just wish that I had been the one doing the dumping," she sighs. "Looking back, it feels like I was taken advantage of and I couldn't even see it until he dumped me . I guess I didn't have anything left that he wanted."

"Hey," I say again, sternly, "none of that. Harry Moonkin has always been a jerk and an idiot and you are well-rid of him. Your years with him weren't a waste because you were sincere in your feelings. It's not your fault that he couldn't appreciate what he had."

What I wish I had.

Gretchen smiles at me, but it's a little sad. "I'll have to work on believing that. Right now it's just all overwhelming and our situation doesn't help."

I feel a little guilty that I've been enjoying our time together while Gertrude is obviously struggling a bit, but I can't be sorry that all this has happened. It's been like a dream to be around her all day.

"Things will look better in the morning," I tell her. "You've had a long day and need some sleep."

"Where's the bathroom?" she asks, "So that I can change into PJs?"

"Right through there," I point to a door on the far wall. "I'll just wait for you on the other side of the door, then."

Gertrude plucks out a hair and concentrates like she did this morning, repeating the summoning spell that she did to get my suit, but this time a folded pile of clothes appears in her hands that I can only assume are her pajamas. She walks to the bathroom and I follow, pulled along by the string before she gently closes the door in my face.

On the other side of the door I hear rustling and feel the tugging on the string as she moves around. Vampire hearing is acute, and I can hear when she unzips her wool skirt. Feeling a little like a creep, I start humming to drown out the sounds of her changing and instead think about tonight. Sharing a bed. It's hard not to be excited about being in one bed together with the witch that I've been in love with for years. I'll be good and stay on my side. She hasn't invited anything more, after all. But just having her in my space calms my soul in a way that I've never felt before. I hear her coming back toward the door and stand up straight so that I don't fall when she opens it, like she did this morning. The door clicks open and I can't help but smile at what I see. Gertrude is in the most adorable ensemble of an oversized statement tee that dwarfs her and reads, "Resting Witch Face," and a pair of silk boxers. It's just so her and so artlessly charming. She's not trying to attract me, that much is clear by the practical sleepwear, but I'm drawn to her nonetheless.

"Your turn," she says, returning my smile.

My turn? Right, I need to change into PJs. The only thing is, I only own pajama bottoms. I never sleep with a top, but that feels inappropriate when we're going to be sharing a bed just to sleep and nothing else. But the rest of my shirts are all button-downs. I don't own any casual clothes, having really no need for them as mayor.

"Um," I say. "I usually don't sleep with a shirt, like you saw this morning, but I can try to find something . . ."

"Oh, no," she interjects. "Don't worry about me. Just sleep however you feel the most comfortable. I don't mind."

It's not an enthusiastic agreement that hints at attraction or a seductive invitation to take this interlude further, but I wasn't really expecting one, so I'm not disappointed. Alright, my dick is a little disappointed, but it doesn't have a brain and isn't the boss of me.

Moving to my walk-in closet, I'm glad that I'm kind of a neat freak so when Gertrude sees inside the closet interior it isn't a huge, slovenly mess. After seeing her house and pantry, I can tell that she's more on the neat side, like me. I know some bachelors don't clean up after themselves, but I've never been one for leaving a mess behind me. I have a cleaner that comes in once a week, but he just vacuums, mops, and takes out the trash. Occasionally he'll dust. There aren't huge piles of things for him to put away and everything is always organized.

Heading to the chest of drawers in the back corner where I keep my pajama pants, I pull out some comfortable linen pants.

"I'll just change in the closet," I say, turning back to Gertrude.

"Oh, sure," she responds. "Good plan. I'll just wait out here" The witch takes a step back and closes the closet door. Stepping closer to the door to give the red string some more slack, I start disrobing. When I have my pajama pants on, I lightly knock on the door.

"I'm coming out," I warn, not wanting her to fall again, even though catching her and getting to hold her in my arms was immensely satisfying. But I'd never risk her getting hurt just so that I could play the hero. That would be the mark of an asshole.

Opening the door more slowly than the last time, I find Gertrude waiting for me. Seeing her night attire again, I smile.

"Shall we go to bed?" I invite and longing fills me. I wish this was all real, that we were together , that this was our bed and not just mine and that we belonged to each other. This whole situation feels like the universe sending me a sign to make a move, but she just got out of a long-term relationship. I don't want to move too quickly and scare her off and miss my one chance to be with her. I need to be patient and watch her for clues and hints so that I don't miss my moment.

We climb into bed together, and Gertrude puts her pillow as far from mine as it can go. If that's not a sign for me to cool my jets I don't know what is. When we're both situated, I snap my fingers again and the candles all blow out with a whoosh . In the darkness a new energy appears, a charged sort of silence. I resolve to ignore it, though, and just let Gertrude sleep, even though I'm sure that I won't sleep a wink. But a few minutes go by and I don't hear the deep breathing of slumber coming from her side.

"Vlad?" she asks, breaking into the silence.

"Hmm?" I respond.

"Thank you," she says, taking me aback. "You've been so kind and understanding about all this. I wish that I hadn't been so drunk and reckless, but I'm glad that it's you who I'm tied to."

Me too, I admit silently. Aloud I say, "You're very welcome Gertrude. And, truly, don't be so hard on yourself. Heartbreak does crazy things to people."

She laughs lightly. I wish that I could bottle that joyful sound. "You can say that again," she says, a teasing note in her voice.

I chuckle back and then say, "Well, you should get some sleep. We have a busy day at your shop tomorrow."

"My shop?" she asks. "What about your work at City Hall?"

"I'll have Bridget reschedule my day. Your work at your shop is just as important as mine and I don't want you to fall too far behind right before Halloween."

Gertrude is silent for a moment and in the space of that silence I think that I may have said something wrong, but then she finally replies, "Thank you for being willing to do that, Vlad. My work is important and I'm grateful that someone sees it."

The unspoken words hang heavily in the air, the implication obvious. Harry didn't think that her shop was important. Stupid of him, since that's how she supported them both of them, but then that werewolf has always been stupid and selfish. What she ever saw in him is a mystery.

"Anytime, Gertrude," I say, tamping down on my anger at her ex. "You've worked hard to build up your shop. I remember when you first opened . . ."

"Oh, boy," she says, sounding amused. "I was so scared and confused. I had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't believe that Halloween's youngest ever mayor was my first customer."

"I would never have known," I assure her. "You just looked so happy and proud, even though the shop was small and bare. But you've worked hard and earned the reputation as the best potion witch in the village now. Your shop is thriving and I would never do anything to jeopardize that. Eye of Newt is an institution and your hard work is what made it that way. It's worth a day or two of rescheduled meetings for me."

"Let's take turns going to my shop and City Hall then, okay? That way, neither of us gets too far behind and we'll both be ready in time for Halloween."

"That seems fair," I agree.

"And I'll keep trying to figure out how to break this curse. I'm sure you don't want to be around me forever."

That's a loaded statement if I've ever heard one. My answer is important. I need to let her know that I most certainly do want to be around her forever, but not scare her with the intensity of my feelings. "It certainly wouldn't be feasible to keep having to take turns going to each other's places of work, " I begin, "but if I have to be tied to anyone, I'm glad that it's you, Gertrude. I like you."

I hold my breath waiting for her response.

"I like you too," Gertrude says, making my heart sing, right before she says, "I'm glad we're friends."

Friends. The word is like a stake through the heart and I feel my hope sink. Then I mentally slap myself. Gertrude's friendship is worthwhile and precious and if that's all we ever are then I'll be a lucky vampire to have her in my life. But I can't help but hope that she might grow to see me as something more someday.

Before I can respond, Gertrude yawns. "Well, I'm exhausted and we have an early morning. Good night, Vlad."

"Good night, sweetheart," I murmur back. Within a few moments Gertrude starts to softly snore and I know she's asleep, but my mind is still racing. After thinking about it for a long time I finally resolve that if I'm Gertrude's friend, I'll be the best she's ever had and that if she doesn't develop feelings for me, then she'll never know about mine. I would never make her uncomfortable for the world. But I'd be an idiot if I didn't leave myself open to the possibility of us getting together. To at least leave the door open and try to show her the kind of boyfriend I could be.

Closing my eyes, I will myself to sleep. Tomorrow's a new day and at the very least I get to spend it with Gertrude. I'll at least treasure this time we have together.

Even if nothing else ever happens.