Chapter Two of Red Letter Day. I watched Bloodsucking Bastards for the second time and fell in love with Max all over again. He deserved more. 18+ as always, mentions of nudity and solo fun and a lot of swearing. 4.8k words
"You okay in there, dear?" Max's smug tones came through the bathroom door where he was waiting outside. You looked glumly into the cracked mirror, the sickly halogen strip lights buzzing above you. Your hair was messy, your shirt now ripped and missing a couple of buttons at the top, and your eyes were lit with a slightly feral fight or flight wildness. Oh and you were covered head to toe in blood. You were decidedly not okay.
"I'm fine, Mr. Phillips," you managed to grit out, your jaw set forward in irritation. "Just...give me a moment."
"Take your time," Max said breezily and you could hear the goddamn smirk in his tone. Fuck. You hated it when he was right. The man's arrogance knew no bounds anyway, but when he was proven right about something the smugness was off the charts. You held on to the sink and dipped your head down, no longer wanting to be faced with your own reflection. Well...Max could help with that, said a tiny voice within you, and you had to stifle the nervous laughter threatening to creep up your throat.
This was day six of being Max's PA. You had initially tried to stick close to the other three humans in the department as far as possible, but to them you were part of the problem, an enemy, someone there to spy on them and report back to Max, regardless of your non-vampire status. Truthfully, you just wanted to be around people who wouldn't stare at your neck every time you walked into a room. Although to be fair to him, Max had kept that particular urge of his on a tight leash, even if he eye fucked you everywhere you went instead. But the others...fuck. Max hadn't been kidding when he said that they didn't have much control. On your third day, the elevator doors had dinged open and you had stepped out to be met with the sight of an all-out orgy. Naked and partially clothed bodies writhing everywhere, blood streaked limbs tangling and the occasional feral vampire face in the crowd. Tim had come sauntering up, his chipped PacMan cup in hand. " 'Sup?" was all he had said as you both gazed at the obscenities in front of you, barely able to comprehend what your eyes were seeing. You hadn't even noticed the elevator departing and coming up again until the doors swooshed open behind you and a vaguely irritated tutting sound emanated from within.
"We are never going to get that Phallucite account up and running at this rate," Max sighed as he stepped into line next to you. "Alright people, its time to wrap this up. Work time starts in-" he consulted the expensive watch on his wrist, "-fifteen minutes. I want you all cleaned up and focused by then. Do I make myself clear?" There were noises of assent and understanding interspersed with the moaning and disgusting wet, sucking sounds that permeated the office. "Good. And Tom, go and make yourself presentable, will you?" As you glanced at Tim, it became apparent that he was sporting a semi, which he halfheartedly tried to cover with his mug before sputtering a protest.
"Hey...those guys are literally naked and having sex, but I'm the problem?!"
"Yep," Max enunciated before stepping into his office.
"That's discrimination, man!" Tim called after him. "And its Tim!" Max's office door slammed loudly on the last word, effectively drowning it out. Tim sighed and turned to you. "So...you wanna make out?" he offered. You looked at him and shook your head in disgust, not deigning to answer properly before following Max into his office.
Max had been as good as his word. Every time you left his office, he was at your side. Whether it was photocopying, getting coffee or indeed, going to the bathroom, he stuck close by you. It was intensely irritating from the off. "Mr. Phillips, please," you had stressed on day four, as he followed you into the supply closet. "I am perfectly able to take care of myself. If anyone gets too out of line I will not hesitate to stake them, as is my right as stated in appendix two, paragraph five of my contract." Max had leaned casually next to you against the metal shelves you were perusing as you had been talking, his arms folded and his eyes raking you up and down, a small smirk playing about his full lips.
"God, I love it when you quote contract conditions at me." Your eyes rolled so hard you thought you might have strained them, but he appeared not to have noticed. "But I'm just not willing to take that risk. You're the best PA I've had in a long time. You write excellent reports, you're damn good with the clients and you always heat up my food to juuuuust the right temperature. Its a skillset I'm not willing to gamble. You've seen what they're like. A moment of weakness and bam!" He snapped his fingers, the implied threat hanging in the air. You were unsure whether Max was aware that you were immune to hypnosis. He hadn't tried to use it on you since that mild attempt the first day you worked for him. Two out of his six previous PA's had been turned by this point. The record to beat was twenty two days. The fact that he hadn't tried anything beyond a little flirting was a worry. You didn't know what game he was playing, but you didn't like it.
"Mr. Phillips, its just not feasible for me to work efficiently when you're tailing me all the time. And speaking of working efficiently - do you have any news on my office? I'd really like to get myself set up in my own workspace." Working opposite Max was already almost unbearable. He talked almost non-stop. So far you had learned about his college days in Romania, the extremely gory details of how and why he was turned, the history of the beef between himself and Evan ("She wasn't even his girlfriend by that time. They'd broken up like an hour before. Fucking asshole.") and that the two hobbies he seemed to have outside of the office were working out and picking up random women from bars. You hadn't wanted to know any of those things, nor had you encouraged him to keep talking once he started. He just never seemed to get tired of the sound of his own voice. You had pondered If in fact this was his version of hypnosis on you. To talk so much that you begged to be turned rather than continue to listen to him.
"You don't like working opposite me?" his brow wrinkled and his dark eyes turned soft and puppyish with his words, his mouth downturned in an exaggerated expression of sadness.
"I just want to do my job well," you countered, stifling a small sigh of exasperation.
"Oh but you do. So well. I'm working on your office, I promise," he offered. "I'm just a little distracted by this Phallucite account all coming together at once. Andrew has started to really step up in keeping everyone to task. You'll have it by next week." Not wanting to contradict him, you had made a small non-committal noise before gathering your supplies and moving out of the storage room, Max following closely at your heels.
Today, you had made a mistake. An error in judgment. And you knew Max would absolutely not let you forget it any time soon. It had started around 11 am, when your need for caffeine had started to make itself known. Max had been busy, on a higher floor with some of his vampire lawyer friends, hashing out the details of some deal or other. He had given you explicit instructions - stay where you are, I won't be long. Like you were a child, or a dog waiting for its owner to come back from grocery shopping. "Fuck that," you had thought. You were a grown woman with a giant wooden stake and four years of jiu jitsu classes to protect her. And once you had successfully shown you could protect yourself Max would have no excuse to bother you anymore, the thought of which made you braver than you perhaps would have been. As you exited his office, all was quiet. Rows of vampires toiled away at their screens, their pallid skin made even waxier by the monitors' reflections. Making your way toward the break room, you failed to notice a pair of ravenous eyes follow your trail, nor the shadow-like way you were stalked. You had just poured the milk into your coffee when a voice directly behind you and far too close startled you, almost making the carton tumble from your grasp.
"Mmmm. Max's little pet out and about. I can see why he keeps you close." You heard a disgusting sniffing noise and an exaggerated sigh of almost sexual pleasure. "You smell good. Like peaches and cream and...competence."
Setting the milk down firmly you turned around to be greeted with the sight of one of the lower-level vampire employees. One of the ones you knew Max had on a watch list to assess if their performances would improve. One of the ones he had wrinkled his nose at in disgust and described as being on a par with the humans. This one had been approaching retirement age when he had been reborn into immortality, and you thought his name was Alex, but you couldn't be sure.
"I have a stake," you said, drawing it from your bag. "And I won't hesitate to-"
The vampire you thought was called Alex moved more swiftly than you had thought possible for a man - well, vampire - his age. He simultaneously grabbed at the top of your shirt and knocked the stake out of your hand. Instinctively you pulled back, tearing yourself from his grasp and losing the buttons from your shirt in the meantime. Before he could set upon you again, you grabbed the coffee you had just made and smashed it into his face, causing him to roar in pain as the boiling liquid made contact with his eyes.
"You BITCH!" he roared as he grabbed for your hair. Ducking away, you grabbed the stake from where it had fallen and moved back away from him. "I'm going to fuck you up, girlie," possibly Alex hissed, his face now fully feral and pulsating with black veins. "And then I'm just going to fuck you."
"I hardly think that is appropriate workplace talk, do you Adam?" came a voice from the break room doorway. Adam. That was it. Adam made an inquiring noise, and turned at the sound of Max's question. Before he could reply you plunged the stake into his chest with all of your might.
"How about you go fuck yourself instead?" you suggested before Adam exploded in front of you, showering you in blood and gore. Max had ducked around the door frame and now emerged, smiling broadly, and his usual perfectly turned out self.
"I won't say I told you so," he remarked, in a tone that said just that. "Not right now at least. Good job getting rid of him for me. He was bringing the stats down, but the headache if I'd fired him without due cause would have been way too much. This way everyone's happy. Well, apart from him." Max's gaze raked over your blood-soaked body. "And maybe you. I'll come with you to the bathroom while you clean yourself up, hmm?"
You hated him. You hated his smug voice and his smug smile and his smug smugness. Fucking prick. You wanted to quit, to be free of this oppressive fucking building with its vampires and weirdos and this asshole boss. But the money was good, better than a standard office job for obvious reasons. So instead of staking Max like you would have liked to, you had forced your voice to meekness and replied "Yes, Mr Phillips."
"Knock knock!" You came back to yourself with a start. Max entered the bathroom and took in your sorry appearance. You had attempted to clean yourself, but all that had happened was that some of the blood had diluted, your hair was wet and your shirt was a little more see through than before. As he looked at you, you expected him to laugh at you, or to admonish you for daring to disobey him. At the very least you expected his gaze to linger on your wet chest for much longer than it did, as the swell of the top of your breasts was now exposed due to a lack of buttons. Instead his voice was more gentle than you had ever heard it before. "Go home. Get yourself together. Come back tomorrow. I'll walk you to your car." It was as if he was using hypnosis and you were susceptible to it. You found the suggestion irresistible and traipsed quietly out of the bathroom behind him.
As you opened your car door, you turned to him. He didn't have to be nice about this, and you had actively expected him not to be. You felt you owed him some acknowledgment of that. "I'm sorry, Mr. Phillips," you offered. "I'll make up the time to you."
"Don't worry about it," he countered, holding up a hand to stop your words. "Just...listen to me next time, okay?" You nodded and got into your car and he closed the door behind you. "See you tomorrow," he said, gently banging on the car roof before sauntering off back to the elevator. You started up the car and watched him go in your wing mirror. You still didn't know what he was up to. But you weren't about to pass up the opportunity of an afternoon off and to have the hottest shower you could stand to scrub Adam's immortal remains out of your hair.
Once you were home and clean, your clothes thrown away as unsalvageable and your hair up in a towel, you decided to have a day of treating yourself. After all, you could have died today and you needed to feel a little alive as a result. You managed to book a table at your favourite restaurant and then you decided to have some...personal time with your favourite toy after which you fell asleep, sated, relaxed and chilled out. Life was so much better when you didn't have to work. When you awoke, you pulled on some jeans, boots and a t shirt and walked the twenty minutes to the restaurant where you were greeted warmly by the owner.
"Bella! I haven't seen you in an age! Where have you been hiding?!"
"Ahhh, just a lot of work on Victor. But I had some free time today."
"I'm so happy to see you. Glass of chianti?"
"Please. Large. I've had a day of it." Victor grinned and sat you at your favourite little table at the back of the restaurant. Your ex had introduced you to this place. It was tiny and dark and didn't look very fancy. But the food was beautiful and you found yourself continuing to attend, even after the relationship had broken down. The table you liked offered you a view of most of the rest of the place and you enjoyed people watching while you ate and drank. The hidden nature of the table also meant you tended not to be bothered by anyone. Except-
"Fancy seeing you here!" came the voice you least wanted to hear. You exhaled deeply through your nostrils in exasperation.
"Max, work hours are over. Are you STILL following me?" Max pulled up a chair opposite you just as Victor came back with your wine. You gratefully accepted it and took a large swig, girding yourself for the conversation ahead. He was definitely going to say "I told you so" at some point.
"So...its Max now is it?" he smirked. "Finally."
"As I said, work hours are over. What do you want?"
"You're a lot more polite at the office," he pouted.
"You're paying me to be professional there. Right now, you're just interrupting my dinner."
"Well thank God I interrupted Adam's dinner earlier. Am I right?!" he chuckled, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair.
"I was doing fine before you-"
"You weren't fine afterwards," Max interrupted, his voice soft and sincere again. "Why do you think I sent you home? Look, I know you can take care of yourself. I just want you to feel as comfortable as you can in the workplace. The other three have got each other. And quite honestly, I don't give a fuck if they get turned or not. But I know you're a little...isolated in your position. So I wanted to make it less stressful for you." You were on the verge of gaping at him. Quite honestly, you wouldn't have thought Max Phillips capable of consideration for anyone other than himself. To cover your astonishment, you took another gulp of wine. "Besides, you'll be a better worker tomorrow if some concessions are made today." Ah, that sounded more like him - businesslike and brisk. Good. You felt on firmer ground with this Max.
"Well, now you've seen that I can take care of myself will you at least stop following me to the bathroom? Its really off-putting."
"I don't come in!"
"I know. But I also know you have super sensitive hearing. I don't need you listening to me.".
He nodded. "That's fair. Fine. No more bathroom. But I'm still sticking by you at lunchtimes for now."
You sighed. Maybe he would be a better boss if some concessions were made on your side too. "Okay, fine," you agreed, a little huffily. "Is that why you followed me here? To tell me that?"
"I didn't follow you," Max replied, a little indignantly. "I saw you and decided to come say hi. Is that a crime?" he held his hands out wide and grinned at you.
Victor came over, eyeing Max suspiciously as he did. "Do you want your usual, bella?" he queried.
"Yes please. And another large chianti." Knowing that vampires couldn't (or wouldn't) consume human food, you didn't bother to ask Max if he wanted anything. Besides, you just wanted him gone.
"And for you, sir?" Victor asked Max, his voice stressing the last word a little.
"Nothing for me," Max grinned, allowing his incisors to be prevalent just a little more than was natural in a human mouth. Victor blanched and moved back hurriedly from the table.
"Don't be a dick," you commanded. "I like it here, Victor is a good man and the food is lovely. Don't ruin it for me."
"Oh shush," Max responded, flapping his hand dismissively at you. "I won't bite him if that's what you're afraid of. He smells all...tense."
"I wonder why," you murmured and Max grinned again, this time flashing you his fangs. Curiosity overcame you and it might have been that, or the wine on an empty stomach, or just the bizarre situation of sitting with Max and having a conversation that didn't make you immediately want to kill him, but you blurted out "Adam said I smell like competence. What does that smell like?"
"To me, a little like cut grass. A nice smell, but not something to get your teeth into necessarily. But humans smell a little different to each vampire. Its the same as a human palate, everyone picks out different things.
"And do I? Smell like competence?" Max smiled smarmily and leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes raking you over as they so often did.
"Are you flirting with me?" he asked in a low and what he probably thought was a sensuous voice.
You raised an eyebrow at him, a mild look of disgust on your face. "Definitely not."
"Hmmm," he mused, settling back again. "It's just that that's a very...intimate topic for us."
"Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to know what smells you hate so I can find a way to infuse them into my skin." He laughed at that, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
"I don't think I can answer that and keep my job."
Max put his palms up toward you in a placating gesture. "I swear, I won't fire you. I meant what I said. You're the best PA I've had and I have no intention of giving you up. Those others..." He blew out a noise of impatience through his teeth.
"Maybe they would have been better workers if you hadn't turned them into vampires and fucked them?"
Max's eyes snapped to you and there was a steely glint in them that there hadn't been before. You were getting to him. Good. Maybe he'd leave you alone to eat. "I did nothing that they didn't beg me for, sweetheart," he said, silkily. "And that was the problem. They...no. Wait. I'll tell you that story if you tell me why you hate me. Your job's safe, you have my word." You believed him. Slimy and slippery as Max could be, he had never actively lied to you. Well, not that you knew of. Well, maybe about getting your own office. But hell, when else were you going to get to tell your boss exactly what you thought of him with no repercussions?
"Fine. You're an arrogant, self serving, egotistical, smug, BORING air head, whose entire personality revolves around his suits and watches and working out and who stares at my tits far too often for someone who is apparently fucking a different woman every night. Oh and for someone who supposedly loves his job, you sure don't do much of it that I can see."
"Okay, but what specifically do you hate about me?" You snorted a laugh before you could stop yourself. Ah fuck. He was going to be even more insufferable if you actually started laughing at his jokes. Max grinned at you like the cat who got the cream. "Was that a giggle I heard?" he cooed.
"No, Mr. Phillips," you deadpanned, staring blankly at him and taking yet another sip of wine, whilst simultaneously telling yourself that you needed to take it easy on the alcohol.
"I'm pretty sure it was," he preened. "And just for that, I'll tell you what happened with my last PA."
"Weren't you going to tell me that anyway? Not that you have to. You could just leave me alone to eat my dinner."
"Your dinner's not here yet. I'll keep you entertained while you wait." Before you could tell him that you would much rather he didn't, he launched into his tale. "It was four months ago. She was hot. I mean, she was really hot." Max moved his hands in front of his chest, miming absurdly huge breasts. "But she was also pretty good at what she did. Not as good as you. She was a little disorganised with the clientele. But I could put up with that because of her other attributes." He smirked lasciviously. "I wasn't planning to turn her I swear. Or fuck her for that matter." You made a disbelieving noise, and his brow wrinkled at you, his eyes wide. "No, seriously," he said eagerly. "She was my sixth PA in a year. The first few...okay yeah, I had some fun. Nothing they didn't consent to, but I might have...led the way. After a while though," he paused and sighed deeply in a put upon kind of way before continuing. "After a while, the joys of a good worker outweigh the short term fun. I wanted to keep her on as my PA. She had other ideas. I found out later that she had heard rumours about me. That I tended to turn the people under me." A flash of juvenile mirth crossed his face at the unintentional double entendre he had made before he caught himself. "So, one night as I was working late she comes in to the office. With her coat on, as if she were about to leave. "Maxie," she said," and he made his voice high, breathy and sugary sweet in his imitation of her. " "Maxie, baby. I know you want me. And I want you. I want you to fuck me good, Maxie!" Of course I said no." At this point, you snorted again, with derision instead of humour. "It's true!" he insisted. "I said no! And then...then she opened the coat." Max's eyes went misty and faraway, a look of beatific bliss on his face. "Well how was I supposed to resist her when she was climbing over my desk naked like that, all jiggly in all the right places...?" He stared off into space for a few more moments before coming back to himself and clearing his throat. His eyes came back to your face. "She begged me to turn her and she begged me to fuck her and I obliged." He spread his hands wide. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Not turn her and fuck her?" you suggested. Max ignored you.
"And then she left. The next day. I didn't even get a goodbye. She got her eternal life and that's all that mattered to her. I felt so...used." He shook his head, clearly feeling extremely sorry for himself. You didn't buy it for a moment.
"Uh huh," you said, making your voice as bored as it could be. "Well, my dinner is here now so..." Max looked around at Victor, who was approaching with a steaming plate of lasagne, some garlic bread, and a bowl of salad.
"Fiiiine," he stressed, rolling his eyes at you. "I can take a hint!"
"Can you?" you queried mildly. Max ignored you again.
"Human food is gross to me now anyway. I don't think I can stand to watch this!" Victor placed the dishes in front of you and wished you good eating before departing again, eying Max warily the whole time. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow. Seven am. You gotta make up that time from today."
"But...you said..." you began, spluttering over the injustice of his false promises before you saw the twinkle in his eye. "Oh ha ha. Very funny, Mr. Phillips."
"I prefer it when you call me Max," he said smoothly. And without further comment he departed, leaving you feeling slightly discombobulated in his wake. Somehow the conversation between you had left you feeling that he was more...human, ridiculous as that sounded. You shook yourself. The wine, it was the wine making you feel weird. Once you ate you'd feel better. Attacking your meal with gusto, you tried to put Max Phillips firmly from your mind.
Out of your line of sight, Max looked back at you from across the street. He had meant what he said. He valued you highly as a worker and had no intention of losing you if he could possibly help it. Still, he felt a friction between you. Had done since the first moment. He could smell the thin layer of arousal for him that you concealed under your layers of distain and distance. Could tell too that you had masturbated sometime that afternoon, the sweet scent of your orgasm clinging slightly to you like a breath of an aura. It turned him on more than he'd like. He couldn't get attached to you, not in that way, not if he wanted to keep you as his PA. Still, he'd always been attracted to what he was told he couldn't have. Evan's ex girlfriend. The aloof girl in Romania who turned out to be a thousand year old near-goddess and who had claimed him as her own. That one male PA he'd had seven months back who had sworn he was totally hetero, even though Max knew differently. He had successfully avoided answering your earlier question about what you smelled like to him because he was trying very hard not to think about that very thing. You smelled...how sweet berries had used to taste when he was human, like the haziness of a golden summer afternoon, like honey and cream and decadence, and like he wanted to know what it was like to be inside you...he mentally shook himself and got into his car. He just needed to fuck this out of his system. One of the girls at the local vamp fetish club would be more than willing, he knew. He was known there, for being one of the more gentlemanly and respectful of the patrons and the girls (and boys depending on his mood) would flock to him. Maybe he'd take a few of them tonight, really clear his head for the next morning when he would see you again. As he drove he mused, thinking about all the depravities he could indulge himself in that night, and trying very hard to put you firmly from his mind.
Okay, but I hate how people will try to disprove Max’s bisexuality by saying that “Oh, but she didn’t like Warren at all and only showed interest in Chloe! even Dana! She must be a lesbian!” And I’m here like, bitch.... being Bi doesn’t me you’re going to be attracted to everyone you see, there are levels of attraction. And some bisexuals have preferences. Max prefers Girls to Boys, that doesn’t mean she’s a closeted lesbian. stop erasing bi characters!
