Real Vampires Know Size Matters

“I think I can manage.” I twined my arms around his neck but stopped with just a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Rafe. You know just how to keep me on track.”

“I guess so after all these years. Come on, ladies. I may learn something in there too.” Rafe offered both elbows and we walked into the building like we were off to see the wizard. Inside, I slipped into an aisle seat not too far back with Rafe between Sienna and me.

There was a large stage up front as well as a podium. A picture of a spinning world, as taken from space, was showing on a big screen with Mel’s catchphrase, “Own the World,” printed in scarlet letters across it. We had a brochure on our seats which offered private sessions with Mel at a thousand bucks an hour. Or we could buy packages with tapes of different sessions she’d conducted in the past. She even had a series on building a business from the ground up.

“She must have a personal fortune. Look at these prices.” Sienna stuffed the brochure in her purse. “I would have to be really impressed to spring for any of this at that cost.”

“No kidding.” I saw the auditorium was filling rapidly. There were several people in dark blue blazers with the world logo on the pocket—who obviously worked for Mel—helping people find seats. They were also doing sound checks and setting up some equipment on the stage. No sign of her zombie pals. I guess she kept her creepy creatures away from her regular business. Music played softly as the lights began to dim. It was a haunting tune, the kind you expected in an ashram or Indian temple.

“Excuse me.” A woman in her forties or fifties pushed her way into our row and plopped down on the other side of Sienna. “Oh, I’m so excited. Have you been to one of Ms. Du Monde’s lectures before?”

“Um, no.” I answered since no else seemed to be interested in picking up the conversation.

“This is my fifth one. Ms. Du Monde is so inspiring. I’ve actually taken my business nationally now. I had a little start-up coffee bar before. Nothing great.” She smiled at Rafe, who was suddenly paying attention. “Well, after the first lecture, I got focused. Realized I was wasting my time, what with a Starbucks on every corner, you know?”

“Yes, you’re right about that. So what did you do?” Rafe looked her over. She was attractive and he didn’t mind the age thing, though, as an immortal, he’d always look early thirties. I gave him an elbow and rubbed his thigh, reminding him we were supposed to be a couple.

“I sprang for one of the private sessions with Ms. Du Monde. It was so enlightening!” The woman lit up like a cheerleader at the playoff game. She dug in her purse and pressed business cards into Sienna’s hand, Rafe’s, and even stretched over to give one to me. “She helped me see what I really wanted to do.”

I looked down. “You’re in scrapbooking?” The card was cute, eye-catching and a good advertisement for that kind of shop.

“Yes! It was my passion, you see. I did it all the time and had a great network of contacts in that world, online and locally. I knew what people wanted and it’s a multimillion-dollar industry. Can actually bring in billions over time. There were no specialty shops meeting our needs. You have to go into the big box stores and dig for what you want. So frustrating. I started with one shop in a strip center in my hometown and I hit at just the right time.” She giggled. “I have twenty stores now in some of the biggest cities in the southwest. I’m looking to expand east now.”

“That’s amazing. And Mel, I mean, Ms. Du Monde helped you figure that out?” I noticed that the woman’s outfit was expensive, her hair expertly colored and cut. Her watch was a Rolex and her purse one I would have killed for. Okay, I believed she was doing extremely well.

“She made me realize I hadn’t tapped into my potential, or my true passion. It was what I needed to hear at the right time. And there’s the fear, honey. It’s so easy to let that hold you back. I dumped that naysayer I was married to. Boy, did that help me grow and change!” The lights flickered. “Oh, we’re going to start.” She laughed. “Brace yourselves. You’re in for a life changing event. Good luck to you!”

“Thanks.” Rafe picked up my hand which I’d forgotten was clutching his thigh. “We’re looking forward to it.”

Sure enough, at the exact starting time, the massive doors at the back closed with a loud click and the lights went out completely.

Then the spotlight came on. There she was, Melisandra Du Monde standing center stage. She wore one of her expensive business suits, this one gray silk, with a microphone clipped to the lapel. She had a strand of pearls around her neck and small pearl studs in her ears. Her dark hair was swept back from her face and done up in a French twist. She looked calmly over the packed house.

“Are you ready to own the world?” She sounded like an evangelist at a prayer meeting. The audience shouted “Yes!” and the place erupted into applause. We all joined in. If nothing else, we appreciated the drama.

“I hope you’re ready to open your minds and your hearts to a new way of thinking. Some of you have been content to live small lives. Is that you? Have you been limiting yourself? Telling yourself this is all you deserve? That to seek more would make you grasping or perhaps even, dare I say it, greedy?” She leaned toward us, resting her elbows on the wooden podium. Her dark eyes raked the room, seeking out the weak. I wanted to shrink down in my seat. Guilty as charged.

“Why? Why are you content to be less than you can be? Why do you let others walk on you as if it is their right to be better, greater, have more, be more? How many of you have stood by and watched someone else take what you wanted and done nothing? Raise your hands. Come on. Hold them high. No, I can’t see you. The room is too dark, but your neighbor can. Are you ashamed?” She shook her head. “You should be. How can you be so spineless?” There was a murmur of outrage in the room.

I was a charter member of Doormats Anonymous. That had become clear to me lately. I wondered if she could see my hand in the air. I stared right at her. But I was pretty sure she was on a roll, her speech canned, and we were just a faceless crowd.

“Oh, have I hurt your feelings? Too bad. Put your hands down. I don’t want to see cowards here. That’s over. I spit on that.” To our shock she did just that. Elegant, ladylike Melisandra leaned over and spit on the hardwood floor. We all reared back in our seats and gasped.

“Ah, I’ve shocked you. Good. I’m acting out. Aggressive women are called bitches. Men are hardasses. Ladies don’t spit on polished floors. Neither do gentlemen. Why not? Because society doesn’t like it?” She strode out from behind her podium. “What if I tell you I don’t give a damn what society thinks?” She pointed a silver-painted nail around the room. “Who is society? You? You? Or perhaps you are the one who decides what is acceptable.” She stabbed the air in my direction. “I don’t accept your rules. Your restrictions. If I think I’m capable of something, if I want it badly enough, then I will do it, get it, have it. I will find a way. And I sure as hell won’t allow you to take what I want away from me.”

I had chills. Jerry. She’d wanted him and now she was getting him. He thought he could play her. Could he? She seemed so determined, so in control. Not the wild-eyed voodoo woman I’d seen before at all.

She began to pace the front edge of the stage. “Find a way. Did I tell you to break laws? No. But you say you can’t get what you want. There are blocks, people, problems in your way. Are there really? Or is it just your fear holding you back?” Her eyes were bright as she stabbed the air. “You build your own roadblocks, my friends. With your fears, your imagined inadequacies. Oh, poor me. I cannot do it. I am weak. I’m afraid I will fail.” She stopped in the center of the stage. “Yes, you will fail. If that is the tape running in your head. Failure breeds failure. Fear breeds failure. Stop it!” Her voice rang out in the silent hall. “Get off the pity train right now!”

I was pretty sure it wasn’t only the vampires here who had stopped breathing.

“Today is a fresh start for you. There are no failures here. You have arrived at a new beginning. That pitiful person who let everyone else walk all over them is gone and you will never go back there again. It’s time to decide. What do you want? Have you even dared name it to claim it?” She gestured with her hands. “Bring up the lights. Now!” she commanded her unseen minions.

“Now look under your seats, all of you. You have paper and pens. Pick them up and write down one thing you want. Must have. Think hard. Don’t write down something trivial like a new house or car. Those are things, people. Things you will buy when your success comes to you. I don’t want to see a feeling like success either. That’s too vague. We must define it to see what it means to you, no one else.” She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd, looking for something.

“And you’d better not put a sappy thing like love.” Her laugh haunted me. I’d heard that creepy cackle before. “Please. That won’t get you what you want. That’s the reward you get once you’ve made it, reached the brass ring and turned it into gold. Love can slow you down, make you weak. Unless it’s your love for the work you do and is part of your passionate drive to the top. I see your faces. Some of you want to argue. Then why are you here? If you want to own the world, focus!” She slammed her fist into her palm.

I shifted in my seat. Of course I’d gone to love first.

“I’m talking about a deeply desired something that will make you feel whole again. Change you from the sad sack who never has the best, the promotion, the money to do what your friends or coworkers do. What will make you into the take-charge person who everyone looks up to, the guy or gal who makes a difference, turns the ordinary into the extraordinary.” She paused for breath and we all did the same.

“Are you thinking? Maybe it’s a business, an idea for an invention you’ve never had the nerve to pursue, a book you want to write, the job you’ve always dreamed about. What do you want? It should be something concrete that you can get if you set goals and realize there are logical steps to achieving them. Come on. You’re here because you needed me. Something was clawing at your gut, aching inside you and it has to come out. You have a hole that must be filled.” She paused, staring around the room one more time, as if searching out the weak so she could shore us up. The woman next to Sienna was practically vibrating with excitement.