The Sturniolos' Assistant

Chapter 12: Personable

"Hi," I say like I got caught even though I'm not doing anything wrong. I never even made it inside the building.

"What are you doing out here?" Jack asks in a serious voice. He doesn't sound mad, but his face doesn't look happy. I think it's his eyebrows. He has a resting scowl face. I bend down to scratch under Sam's chin.

"Nick, Matt, Chris, and I were playing golf and then I wanted to check out the course." I keep my tone light and cheery even though I'm mentally trying to figure out how far away I am from the boys.

"Dogs are a good judge of character." He looks at Sam rolling over so I can rub his belly.

"Yeah, I guess I'm alright," I joke. I watch as Jack starts unloading wood from a utility cart. I have nowhere else to be right now, maybe he'll answer some of my questions. And my golf cart is twenty steps away in case I need to bolt. "Why did you tell me not to trust anyone?"

"What's your business?" He stops unloading wood and leans back on the cart.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"All these guests are influencers, or own a clothing, jewelry, shoe, skincare, whatever-the-hell line. What do you do?"

"I'm the Sturniolos' assistant." I'm annoyed that he didn't answer my question. He stares at me with a blank expression. "The Sturniolo triplets are YouTubers. YouTube is a website-"

"I know what YouTube is. I'm not that old." He chuckles and his face softens. "Alright, so you work for them. Why?"

"I just moved to L.A. and needed a job." Sam puts his paw on me. I resumed petting him.

"That's not what you wanna do. You're not gonna be their assistant forever, are you?" Jack crosses his arms in front of his chest. He sounds like my mom. I sigh.

"I want to be a writer. I wrote a short film. I thought it would be easier if I lived in L.A. to be able to meet with people, but I haven't heard back from agents and I needed a job in the meantime. I'm still reaching out to agents and writing whenever I have time." I'm glad the boys aren't here for this. I've talked to them about my writing before and they know that's what I want to do, but we've never talked about what would happen if an agent ever got back to me. I don't think I would be able to do both, but it's been four months so I'm pretty sure I should focus on writing something new and cut my losses. Jack gives me a slanted smile and I think it's a good time to ask him a question, one he didn't answer last night.

"Do you like working here?"

Jack laughed again like he had before but this time he said, "Yeah, sure. It's paradise on Earth... Except for the damn vampires."

I laugh too, to be polite. I'm assuming he's making some sort of joke about how the rich guests are like vampires. I wouldn't take Jack as the type of guy to joke around, his face is serious again, but I like it.

"Are the Sturniolos like the others?" Jack asks. I'm not sure what he means but if it has anything to do with his "vampire" analogy, then no.

"They're good people," I say defensively. They're the best people I know.

"Do you trust them?"

"Yes," I answered. I trust them with my life. It sounds dramatic but it's true. They're honest and genuinely good people. And I'll defend them all day every day to people who assume they're not.

"You looked pretty sick last night." Jack takes off his hat and looks at me. My stomach drops. So, he was outside watching.

"Yeah, I had a migraine." I stand up and Sam sits guard at my feet. Jack's squinting at me with skeptical eyes. "I didn't drink anything if that's what you're wondering."

"I know. Sam wouldn't be this close to you if you did. Keep it that way." He resumes unloading the cart.

"What am I not supposed to drink?" I follow him to the cart and Sam follows me. Jack glances from the tree branches above us to the lobby all the way down the hill.

"Can't say. Just don't." He starts to walk inside the building, dragging the wood behind him, then comes back out to get more.

"Why aren't you telling me?" I cross my arms against my chest.

"Because I don't trust that you're the only one listening." Jack points to the trees. I look up but don't see anything. Alright, this guy is crazy and paranoid. I subtly start to back away from him.

"I know you believe me." He ruffles his dark brown hair.

"I'm not sure what I believe. You're not really telling me anything useful." I give Sam one last pet then start to walk back to the golf cart. So much for trying to get answers.

"Someone offered you punch, didn't they?"

I turn back around. How would he know? If he was watching, there's no way he could've seen what was in the glass James gave me. His brown eyes are reading my face.

"Yup. Someone did. Bloodsuckers." He scratches the scar under his eye and laughs. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Jack looks past me, and I hear the boys approaching us in the golf cart. I don't want this conversation to end, but I don't think Jack will say anything else in front of Nick, Matt, and Chris.

"Look, you seem like one of the good ones. Survive this weekend, don't trust those vampires, and never come back."

"This isn't some sort of The Most Dangerous Game situation. I'll be fine." I laugh. This guy must love freaking out guests and that's why no one will talk to him. He walks up to me, so we're face to face and my heart starts to race.

"Think this is a joke if you want to, but it's your funeral," Jack says in a harsh tone. 

I don't know why this guy is messing with me, especially since he said I'm different from the other guests and "one of the good ones." A wave of panic crashes over me. I turn around and see Matt standing on the back of the golf cart. He hops down when Nick pulls up next to the other one. I feel safer already. Jack smiles and waves at them like everything is fine. He leans in closer. 

"It's not punch. It's blood," he whispers. "Vampire blood. Anyone who drinks it becomes a half-vampire. They only go full vamp once they feed." 

My stomach lurches. I need to leave now. I don't think Nick, Matt, and Chris can hear anything Jack is saying. They're just patiently waiting for me. I back away again. 

"I'll survive on my own. Take Sam with ya," Jack whispers. I don't want to take his dog with me, but I can't form a sentence. I want to get as far away from Jack as I can, and Sam follows me into the golf cart without me calling him. Matt climbs in next to Sam and I'm relieved to be driving away. Adrenaline is pulsing through my veins.

"Did he just give you his dog?" Matt chuckles and pets Sam.

"Uh, for the weekend, I guess," I say, trying to sound steady and not shaky.

"What were you guys talking about?" Matt asks.

"Vampires." I look at Matt and we both laugh. Matt's laugh is real. My laugh is not.