"Are you ProfessorCormier?"
"Eve?" he says, extending his hand. I look down at it briefly, reluctant to shake but I don't want to be rude. His touch is a little on the cold side, but not corpselike — not like dead chicken as I imagine a vampire's hand would feel. He holds mine and doesn't let go even after we finish shaking. It's far tooforward.
Finally, when my cheeks are hot with embarrassment, he releases myhand.
"Hello. Nice to finally meetyou."
Finally? I just exchanged texts with him about this meeting an hourago…
He has this very soft accent somewhere between continental and Cajun French. He's smiling, one side of his mouth turning up just a bit and I can't tell if it's a smirk or if that's just the way hesmiles.
"Hello." I smile back to be polite and hold up the envelope. "I have the manuscript for you totranslate."
"Please, come in." He opens the door wider and waves into theinterior.
"Thank you." I force another big smile, trying to look like I'm pleased to be here, when what I want is to turn on my heel and runaway.
I squeeze past him sideways for he's standing in the doorway and when I walk by I catch a scent of something masculine, and not like the usual cheap cologne I smell on the guys at the university. More like sandalwood or incense. He smells good and not like he's fresh out of the grave the way I imagine a vampire would smell, all earthy and wormy and oldblood.
I kick myself mentally. He's probably just got that pale skin you see with some Europeans but given the profession I intend to follow, I'm suspicious ofeverything.
Inside, it's a typical Boston U junior faculty office – bookshelves on either wall, and a desk in front of a large window looking out over the rotunda. A black leather sofa and chair with a coffee table sit to one side of the office. On the coffee table and on every surface sit piles of research papers and books. There's a chalkboard with words translated from one French dialect to another and intoEnglish.
I turn around and he's staring at me, his gaze extremely intense, his blue eyes huge, pupilsdilated.
"Please, let me take yourcoat."
I remove it and hand it to him and he hangs it on a coat tree by thedoor.
"Have a seat," he says after a pause, motioning to the sofa. "Can I get you anything to drink? It's a damn cold night. There's fresh coffee in thepot."
"No,thanks."
I take a seat and he's staring at me with the strangest expression on his face – half amused and half perplexed. He's attractive, so I don't want to stare at him for fear I blush, which I have a bad tendency to do when I'm nervous. But of course I can't help but check him out from the corner of my eye. He's wearing black jeans with a thick black belt and a white button-down shirt. The contrast between his black hair and white skin highlights his blueeyes.
His hair is longish and a bit wild, just below his chin and tucked behind his ears, and his blue eyes are rimmed by thick black lashes. I look away from his intense gaze, andlift up the envelope containing the manuscript and clear my throat, unsure if I can actually speak without my voicecracking.
"Here itis."
He takes the envelope and sits on the chair across from me but doesn't look inside it yet. He's still looking at me with those way-too-blueeyes.
"Eve," he says, drawing the name out. "That's such a lovely name. Is it short forEvelyn?"
I shake my head, surprised at the personalquestion.
"No, I was named after the biblical Eve. My mother wanted to name me Lilith but my dad said no. Lilith was too defiant, too opinionated, and too independent and he was hoping for a sweet-natured girl." I bite my tongue. I don't know why I'm telling him this except that I'm suddenlynervous.
"And are you?" he says, his French accentsoft.
"Am I what?" I say for I've forgotten the direction of thequestion.
"Sweet natured or defiant, opinionated and too independent? Was his naming you after the biblical Evesuccessful?"
I frown at his too-personal questions and my too personalanswers.
"I don't know," I say. "That's for someone else to say, notme."
"You don't know yourself?" He gives that lopsided grin again, as if he already knows. "I'm sorry. It's just that it would be ironic if you turned out exactly as he feared despite the more innocuous name. Besides, Eve ate of the forbidden fruit and led Adam to his downfall." He raises his eyebrows at that. "Sounds to me as if Eve was a bit too independent aswell."