Page 104 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
He didn’t tell her. Alright, understandable. It’s complicated.
I take a breath and nervously clasp my palms in front of me. “Well, not anymore. I called it off—that’s the reason why we’re in this mess with Lord… er, my parents.”
“Wait—you’ve dumped Alexander?”
“W-well I wouldn’t put it like that?”
“¡Ay nooo!” Leoni sighs as she moves toward the wicker bench and plops down. I sit in the rocking chair beside it. “Now I feel bad for shooing him off. Shit. I’ll call him later. This is a much bigger mess than I thought.”
An awkward gap of silence forms as she processes what I’ve said. Somehow, I feel the need to cushion this revelation. “Alexander accepts my feelings, though. We’re alright.”
Her gaze flickers over to me as she sits with her arms folded. “Maybe. Or he’s putting on a good show to make you feel comfortable. He’s good at that, you know? Making everyone else feel comfortable and like everything is fine when he’s not. Well, I guess you probablydon’tknow that.”
This makes me pause. Is he only pretending to accept my decision? I’ll tuck this away for further examination, later. “I didn’t know that Alexander spoke Spanish.”
Leoni’s brown eyes widen, then narrow in suspicion. “Did you two never spend any time together, ever? Was Alex just making stuff up when he gushed about seeing you?”
“No, well, we spent time together—just, always supervised? We didn’t have many opportunities to talk candidly growing up, and I, um…” Can I tell her that I wasn’t interested at all? That I hated the entire arrangement and wanted nothing to do with it or him?
It feels rude, so I’ll leave that part out.
“You don’t know about his Achilles waist, you don’t know that our grandparents, his mother and his uncle—my father—were born in Mexico but immigrated here as children… Whatdoyou know about Alexander?”
“Um… he plays the piano and has a calico cat named Buffy?” I offer, wincing. Jesus. “Why do you call him ‘puercoespín.’ What does that mean?”
Leoni sighs, shifting her focus to the expanse of the vineyard stretched before us. “Porcupine. And because of what I just said. He puts on a show of being tough and unaffected, but he’s a little softie underneath the façade.”
Contemplating, I let the silence settle between us. It’s starting to feel like she knows a much more complex version of Alexander than I do. The version I’ve refused to see all these years. But how could I, given our circumstance?
“Anyway,” she says, unfolding her arms, “if Alexander says that you’re reliable, then I believe him. But give Danny some time to adjust, alright? Major trust issues there.”
“Sure, no problem,” I assure her. Of course, I want to know why, but it’s obviously not my business. “Really, thank you for letting me stay here. I’m not useless. I promise that I can pull my own weight.”
“I didn’t say that you were useless. I may have implied, but I didn’t say it. Regarding room, boarding and compensation, I know your situation is dire, so you’ll work the land in exchange for living here. If you’re very capable, I’ll give you a small cut of the house allowance I’m allocated each month.”
I nod a little harder than I need to, but I want to show her that I’m listening and engaged. “Yes, that’s very generous and fair. Thank you.”
“The house rules are simple,” Leoni continues. “No lies, no servants, no drama. Let’s break them down. Rule number one—no lies. Danny and me are always honest with each other. If we’re having an off day, need some time alone or one of us does something that the other doesn’t like, we say as much. No hard feelings.
“Second rule—no servants. We clean up after ourselves, share responsibilities with regard to house chores and generally help out where it’s needed. I cook, do meal planning and prep for one week, then Danny has a week. We alternate like this so that the burden is never just on one person. It also helps us so that we’re not looking at each other every single day like idiots and having the ‘What should we eat?’ conversation. I hate that.”
Leoni is purebred, but Daniel is first-generation. In any purebred house in Eden, he would be designated as some sort of servant. I’m really happy that this isn’t the case here. It’s just further confirmation that I’m in the right place.
“Are you alright with this?” Leoni asks. “The three of us operating as equals?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Can you cook?”
“Ah, I… well, I’ve never tried outside of our chef letting me help him bake sometimes, but I’ll absolutely learn and do my best.”
“Well, that’s all I can ask for. The last rule is no drama. No pomp and circumstance, no balls, banquets or gossip. Our house is a peaceful refuge for both of us, and we don’t want any of the garbage from the Eden aristocracy invading this space. We both put up with it for a long time. But no more.”
“I feel exactly the same way about Eden’s practices,” I tell her. “All of this sounds perfect.”
Leoni stands from the bench and stretches. “Glad to hear it.” When she drops her arms, she lifts her chin. “Smells like we’re having curry for dinner. Let’s go inside? Just tread lightly and you should be fine.”
I’m nervous as I stand. “Okay, will do.” She leads, and I follow her back into the house, which is indeed overflowing with the scent of fresh curry, turmeric, sautéed vegetables and coconut milk.
