“Hello?”

Rachael sucked in a deep breath, not even sure what to say. Graham probably knew it was her. He sounded hopeful, as if he had actually wanted her to call him, and the fact that he’d answered after the first ring also made her think he either recognized her number or was praying it was her. If what he’d told her was true--and she had no explanation for how that was possible--he had driven all the way from the outskirts of Waynesborough, Pennsylvania, which was about a two hour drive if traffic was cooperative. Of course in a Ferrari….

“Hello? Rachael… is that you?”

“Uh, yeah.” She squeezed her eyes closed for a second and pressed her free fist to her forehead like she could somehow force her mind to cooperate. So he did know her number. “I’m sorry… I just... Could you come back?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Sure. That’s no problem at all. I’m just at the Starbucks up the road.”

“Great. I’m sorry I was so rude to you.” Rachael walked a few paces away from her desk, shaking her head slightly as she still couldn’t believe any of this was real. She had a lot of explaining to do, but now was not the time. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting you.” Now that was the understatement of the year.

“I get that a lot.” He chuckled softly as he spoke, and Rachael took a moment to reflect on what a nice guy she’d created. She wondered if this is how a mother felt when her son grew up to be a decent human being. “I can be there in about ten minutes.”

“Great,” she said again before she caught her reflection in a mirror across the room. “Uh… actually, could you make it thirty minutes?” She pulled at a tuft of brown hair that had come loose from her bun and watched it fall limply across her forehead. “Or forty?”

He laughed again, and she imagined he was probably thinking it wouldn’t really make that big of a difference if she took ten minutes or ten hours after the state he'd seen her in earlier. Hopefully, she could get herself into presentable form before the handsome man, who happened to be perfect for her, by design, arrived back at her apartment. She wondered if Chell was still dead in this new world she’d stumbled upon. “Tell you what, it’s 9:30. I’ll try to be there around 10:15, okay?”

“That should work.” She’d have to work fast, but she could pull herself together in forty-five minutes. “Thanks, Graham.”

“No problem. I’m looking forward to speaking with you.” Always the polite professional, she thought. “By the way, can I bring you a drink?”

For a moment, she forgot that he’d mentioned Starbucks and wondered if it was too early to ask for a margarita. “That would be amazing,” she said, her mouth watering at the idea of an actual barista-made drink. “Caramel macchiato?”

“You got it,” he said, and Rachael could actually picture that winning smile on his perfectly sculpted face

“Thank you, Graham. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yep, see you in a bit.”

Rachael disconnected the call and then shot off to the bathroom like the streak of lightning she always imagined her vampire hunters became when they were charging in for the kill. The idea that she might actually find out for herself firsthand soon enough was just too unreal to fathom, so she put that out of her head and turned the shower on to warm up before sprinting back into her bedroom to figure out what one wears when they literally meet the man of their dreams--one who’s not supposed to be real.

She quickly looked through her wardrobe and got a few ideas before she sprinted back to the shower to think it over.

After a shower so quick she wasn’t sure if she got all of the conditioner out of her hair, Rachael dried off and wrapped a towel around her as she debated whether it was more important to have perfect makeup or completely dry hair. It was a quick argument, but makeup won out, and she ran a brush through her hair, applied some product, and prayed it wasn’t too humid outside for most of her hair to dry on its own, which was asking a lot considering how much of it she had.

Normally, it took about fifteen minutes for her to apply her makeup for work and about double that if she were going on a date or out with the girls. This morning, she wanted that second look for the time investment of the first. She pulled out her tools and went to work, hoping she didn’t streak her eyeliner like she usually did and have to start over again. Luck was on her side, and when her eyes were done, Rachael was impressed with her skill. She admired her work for half a second and then moved on to lips.

With ten minutes to spare before Graham was supposed to arrive, her makeup was finished. Rachael gave herself a sultry smile before she took the blow dryer to her hair for a few seconds and then ran her pick through it a few times. It wasn’t completely dry, but it would do.

Rushing back into her room, she grabbed an outfit she thought said, “Potential vampire hunter/love interest,” and threw it on, hoping it wasn’t too warm outside for the black fitted slacks. The material was a cross between satin and nylon, but they weren’t too thick. They’d have to do. This was a better-than-jeans sort of moment, and she didn’t want to screw it up.

Once her purple short-sleeve top was on, she shoved her feet into her best pair of black boots, the ones with the thicker--but not too thick--heel, pulled a few bangles on her arm, grabbed her favorite gold hoops and sprayed herself down with her favorite light body spray.

The time on the clock on her nightstand ticked over to 10:15, and there was a knock on her door. “Punctual as always, Mr. Halloway,” she muttered with a smile. She hoped he’d be smiling, too, when he saw her transformation. He was single now, after all, wasn’t he?

Rachael shook her head, trying to remind herself that she had probably lost her grip on reality a few days back. But then, if she was going crazy, she may as well have a little fun along the way.

She headed for the door, excited to see what Graham had to say and praying that, if this was all a dream, she didn’t wake up any time soon.