The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (4 page)

He looked up the names Augere—he couldn’t recall a first name—and Genier on the internet. There was no mention of anyone by the name Augere; nothing in the past century seemed relevant to the person he sought. However, it turned out the Geniers were an old, well-respected family whose professional presence in New Orleans predated the opening of Tulane Law School, as well as the Civil War, as far back as the 1840s at least. Subsequent generations of Geniers had graduated from Tulane Law School as well as other prestigious schools across the country.

There was brief mention, in some very old records, of transactions between a member of the Augere family and those of the Geniers; so it appeared the two families were well acquainted and linked, historically at least, going back a very long time. The Geniers had arrived from Europe by way of Boston. It seemed there had been attorneys in the Genier family for at least 170 years. Jason was impressed. But he remained wary.

Why me?
he wondered again.
What do I have that they want?
If it was all some kind of scam, as he still suspected, they were going to a lot of trouble to appear legitimate. Which suggested to Jason a very complicated scam. He laughed nervously. “Make sure you don’t get drunk and end up losing a kidney,” he told himself.

Jason decided to call the local number. He was not at all interested in the job. Anything that looks too good to be true, always is. But he needed to know how they got his name, and what they were up to.

A young woman answered, asked who was calling and then transferred the call.

“Hello, Mr. Sterling. This is James Genier.” A pleasant sounding voice; slight Southern accent, smoothly enunciated, professional tone. He pronounced his name
Zhen-yay
. “How may I help you?”

“I want to know how you got my name, and why.” Jason hoped he sounded angry but with a touch of restraint.

There was a brief pause.

“I believe I can answer your questions. Would you prefer to meet in person? Perhaps in the lobby of your hotel? An invitation to a business lunch, if you like.”

I don’t really need to meet these people in person
, Jason thought. What would be the point of that? What would he say to them? Then he thought about having to see that stranger again…hmmm. A public place. Well…that seemed harmless enough.

“When?” Jason asked.

“At your convenience.”

“Right now then.” Jason did not want them to have any extra time to try to pull something.

“I believe that will work for me. I can be there within 30 minutes or so.”

“Fine.” Jason answered. He had wasted much of the morning already. He would get lunch—at their expense—and confront both of them. Then he would be free to enjoy the rest of the day. He wanted to put this craziness behind him and continue to savor the rest of his time in New Orleans.

Exactly 30 minutes later, Jason was approached in his hotel lobby by a trim, handsome man of average height, possibly in his forties, dressed in an expensively tailored tan suit with a silky looking white shirt and a dark golden brown tie. His light brown hair , worn fashionably long, came to rest neatly past his collar. He had intense dark blue eyes and a friendly demeanor.

“Hello, Mr. Sterling.” he said, extending his hand in greeting. Everything about him: his appearance, gracious manner and professional attitude—put Jason at ease.
Exactly what you would expect from a con man
. Jason kept his guard up. He completed a formal handshake but said nothing to the man.

Jason glanced around the lobby. There was no sign of the other stranger.

“Where is he?” Jason asked.

James Genier appeared puzzled for a moment.

“Oh… Mr. Augere?” He pronounced the name
oh-zhair
. “He left for Boston this morning.”

Jason was surprised at his reaction to hearing that. Against his better judgment, he had wanted to get another look at him. Their meeting had been so brief, and so strange, and he was hoping to get some answers. Suddenly Jason lost what little interest he might have had for this meeting. He wanted to leave now and forget about it. The disappointment he felt surprised him and made him feel uncomfortable. This man in front of him now had some connection to that other. And Jason needed to know more. He couldn’t leave.

“Look, I’m sure I am just wasting your time and mine. I just want to know how you have information about me.”

“I do understand your concern,” Mr. Genier said. “Shall we sit there?” He nodded toward a table in the restaurant a few feet away. “It’s more private.”

Jason hesitated. Maybe this was the only way he was going to get answers. As they entered the restaurant, no less than three people greeted James Genier, either by first or last name, formally or informally; they definitely knew him here.

A waiter approached their table. “Usual seafood bisque and salad today or the shrimp remoulade this time, sir?”

“I have a family thing at Galatoire’s later tonight, so I can’t overdo it…but I will have the shrimp beignet BLT, and you know what I like on the side. Plus a Chardonnay.”

“Very good. And how is your wife? Feeling better I hope.”

“Yes, thanks, Paul. Turned out to be just a sinus thing.”

The waiter nodded.

“And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have exactly the same,” Jason answered him.

“Excellent. I’ll be right back with the wine.”

Doesn’t mean anything, A waiter could be set up to give the illusion of respectability. To put “the mark” at ease. I hope I don’t have to worry about something being slipped into my wine
.

“To answer your questions then,” Mr. Genier began. “I should first say Mr. Augere is our client; practically our only client; but he is also our business associate. My brother and I run our firm, along with other members of our family. Mr. Augere does have his own way of doing things sometimes.

“I can assure you the job offer is legitimate, provided the applicant meets all of the extensive criteria. Mr. Augere no doubt neglected to mention that to you. We do handle many of his business concerns, but he does find it useful to retain a personal assistant.

“Mr. Augere described you to me. He mentioned you are from Minnesota and that you might be looking for a job in the Boston area.

“I checked online into the most recent resume postings, intending to work backward from there—and there you were: Jason Sterling, from Minnesota, with a Bachelor of Arts degree from Boston University, posting for a position in the Boston area. With that information, I had only to determine where you were staying. Many tourists who are new to the city choose well known hotels in the French Quarter. I thought I would try several of those first—and found you at the Monteleone. I simply called and stated I had a fax to send you, which suggested to them I already knew you were staying there, and the fact they accepted the fax confirmed to me you were.”

Jason was a little stunned at how easy—and legal—it had all been.

“So—then, he hasn’t been stalking me?”

Genier was surprised. “Mr. Augere? No.”

The wine glasses were set before them. After the wine was poured, Jason took a sip with a thoughtful expression.

“He seems very…” Jason paused, trying to find words that would describe his perception, without sounding rude or unflattering.

“Eccentric?” Genier offered.

“We could start there,” Jason said.

Genier laughed. “He is quite an unusual creature.”

“Who offers a job to someone they have just met and barely spoken to?”

“He is a very perceptive and intuitive person. It is surprising what people reveal about themselves, both verbally and non-verbally, without realizing it. He is able to pick up even subtle things that would amaze you.”

Jason recalled that sense of being studied; that penetrating gaze that had left him feeling transparent; probed and dissected, nakedly vulnerable. The feeling was stronger now, in retrospect, than he had allowed himself to acknowledge at the time. As if he had unwittingly, and uncomfortably, given away personal things about himself to that stranger. He remembered the sense of wanting to get away, of wanting to avoid further scrutiny.

“It was a little creepy,” Jason acknowledged.

Genier nodded. “But evidently he sensed qualities in you that make you suitable as an assistant to him. He is very particular. He knows what he wants.”

“Even though I told him I wasn’t interested,” Jason pointed out.

Genier laughed gently and nodded. “He told me you tend to vacillate and ruminate. You like to look at situations from all angles before making decisions. You are careful, deliberate, thorough. You don’t accept anything at face value. You are always a little mistrustful —of everything. That skepticism and suspicion usually works to protect you. There may be times, however, your desire for something blinds you and you are not as careful as you would be otherwise.” Genier shrugged. “Like most of us, I suppose. It is just something to be aware of. He believes, in the end, you do invariably make the decision that is exactly right for you.”

Jason just stared at him.
Who ARE these people?

The food arrived and they ate in silence for several moments. The presentation of the food and the combined tastes and textures felt like a part of the seduction, and Jason was feeling pleasantly lured.
Maybe I am just being manipulated
. He took a bite of a large shrimp, and savored the crusted beignet that clung to it. It was heavenly.
I don’t vacillate…do I? No. I don’t think I do. Maybe…sometimes
.

“Is he always so sure of himself?” Jason asked after a sip of wine.

“More sure of others. He already believes you will meet all of the criteria. That’s probably why he didn’t mention it to you.”

“Yes. I glanced at that list.”

“That list is far from complete; it was meant to provide a general overview.”

Jason shrugged. “It hardly matters. Since I’m not really interested.”

“I can tell him we’ve met then. And discussed it. That you gave it some consideration, and you declined. Or perhaps I can tell him you did not meet all of the criteria. And then the matter is settled. We can just enjoy lunch now. No further obligation. Agreed?”

Jason felt like he was being challenged.

He nodded. He trusted his instincts, and right now they were telling him Mr. Genier was decent and sincere—well, for a lawyer, anyway. But he couldn’t consider this crazy offer. Could he?

“I’m sorry you had to come here for nothing. We could have done this over the phone,” Jason said, taking a bite of the remoulade.
Oh…I have got to have more of this
… Jason enviously eyed the extra remoulade on Genier’s plate.

“No harm. I sometimes stop here for lunch.”

There were a few moments of silence. The food and the wine was so good, neither spoke for a while.
I bet this meal cost plenty too
, Jason thought.

“What kind of work does he do, exactly? What kind of business—?” He felt he had a right to ask. He assumed their stories would match.

“He owns property; he has numerous investments. Very diversified. He is quite an astute businessman, in some respects…”

“He seems quite young; it is hard to believe…I thought maybe he had inherited money. If he’s wealthy, I mean.”

“Well, he does not have to work, per se. But he never takes things for granted. He believes it is better to continue earning money, just in case.”

“Then, really, if you—and he—can manage all of his business affairs, then why does he even need a personal assistant?”

“What he really seems to need is someone to act as a buffer—between himself and—everything.” Genier noted Jason’s puzzled expression. “There are some things he does not deal with very well. He is something of a technophobe. And he sometimes needs someone to drive him places.”

“He doesn’t drive?”

“He drives.” Genier sighed with a nod. “He has a license. He just doesn’t think speed limits apply to him, and he has a big problem with authority figures. I just prefer that he doesn’t drive.”

Jason smiled. It was sounding less like any kind of scam. Genier seemed genuine, and had been willing to share personal information about Augere. But Jason remained guarded. Still looking for the tiny crack in the too smooth veneer. Still, there might not be any harm in going along for a little while. He could always turn back; he could always say no.

Jason savored a few more bites of the excellent lunch.

“I suppose, as long as it doesn’t obligate me in any way, we could go over some of the criteria. I doubt I will pass all of it anyway.” Jason shrugged.

“You don’t have to do this now—you don’t have to earn your lunch,” Genier assured him.

Jason shrugged again. “I don’t see the harm.”

“You know—I did not bring the full list with me; I did not think we would get to it, frankly. I can call my office and have the pages faxed to me here.”

Jason nodded. Genier placed a phone call.

They were just finishing their leisurely lunch when a hotel employee delivered several pages to their table.

“Thanks, Jerry. How was your vacation?” Genier asked.

“You were right Mr. G; the villas were the way to go. We’re going back again next year.”

Genier smiled at him and Jerry retreated from the room.

“Okay. Well, as to the health screen: there would be a physical exam; blood samples. You would have to have no significant health issues. Nonsmoker. No serious allergies; no seizure, cardiac, or respiratory disorders; non-diabetic, no prosthetics, no handicap. Are we good so far?”

Jason nodded.

“No addictions to any substances, drugs, legal or otherwise; no dependence of any kind. No gambling, porn, video game addiction—”

“Ah. Could you define—addiction there, more, uh specifically?”

“Spending five hours a day or more devoted to any of the above mentioned activities—”

“Okay, I’m good then. Room to spare.”

Genier laughed. “I’ve wondered if we should include internet addiction in general. But then no one would ever meet the criteria.

“No personal nor family history of mental illness; no debilitating phobias…shall I continue?”