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Eden stared at the man on his doorstep. The same man who’d stood there about this time every couple of days for the last two weeks as though he knew exactly when Eden would still be at home. He scowled at the man, at the package he held along with another card and while Eden was a little curious as to what this one said, he was also annoyed. For all the pretty platitudes Mr Alric Drayton had written so far, he’d never bothered to deliver the presents to Eden himself.
“Can your boss not be bothered delivering his gifts himself?” Arms folded across his chest; legs crossed too as he leaned on the door jamb.
The man fidgeted, his gaze darting to the shadows and shuffling a few steps as they shortened. Again, his actions puzzled Eden, made him think this man - whose name he maybe should have learnt – feared the sun. It wasn’t as though people couldn’t be allergic to the sun or if they were... he shook his head refusing to entertain the outlandish idea. But it did make him wonder as to what type of person Drayton was if he was willing to disregard the health and well-being of his employees. Still his mind drifted back to vampires, to the mythos that surrounded them about their inability to tolerate the sun, though tolerate put it mildly and this man didn’t look like he feared bursting into flames. Doesn’t mean they aren’t real, a small voice muttered.
“Mr Drayton is a very busy man,” the man replied. A highly cultivated line that sounded like it was trotted out regularly. “And I’m only too happy to act as a courier.”
Eden closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “But maybe, I don’t wish to accept this gift-” waving his hand at the package. “-maybe you should return it to Mr Drayton for me.”
The man smirked at him. “I can’t do that Mr Haversham. My job is to deliver it to you and that is all.” He winced as the shadows shifted and hurried to find a spot back in the shadows. Eden furrowed his brows as he noticed the blisters appearing on the man’s hand. “-if you wish to return the item, or any of the items Mr Drayton had given you, you will have to do so yourself.”
“Maybe I will. Your boss sounds like a bit of an arsehole-” snatching the package out of the man’s hand. “-I mean he is making you play messenger when being out in the sun is obviously not good for you.”
“It’d be a lot worse for Mr Drayton,” Eden thought he heard the man mutter as he raced toward the same SUV with blacked out windows and practically dove inside it.
Eden closed the door and stared at the package in his hand, cursing once more. He stormed into his bedroom, threw the package onto his bed not bothering to even read the card this time. He couldn’t imagine it saying anything different to the cards he’d received previously. Turning to his drawers, Eden opened the top one and stared at the other packages neatly stowed inside it. He grabbed them out – all but the fob watch as he couldn’t bear to part with it – and tossed them onto the bed too before turning to his closet and grabbing out the burgundy suit Drayton had also sent him, adding it to the pile.
This was all getting a little ridiculous.
He could accept that the man sending him the gifts was Alric Drayton, but he still didn’t understand why. And the claims that he made – even if had heard the mutterings of the messenger correctly – of having lived for a long, long time seemed impossible. One simply couldn’t live for two thousand years without being immortal like a god or a vampire and that was... a thing of fairy tales and nightmares. Wasn’t it? The flash of colour that he’d seen in Drayton’s eyes; burgundy red like the ribbons tied around each of the packages and the suit that now lay on his bed, wasn’t normal either, nor were the flash of fangs when Drayton smiled. Of course, they weren’t real, Eden knew that because he’d studied the mythos around them; was writing his graduate thesis on the origins of their myths and to start doubting those facts now... if he even began to entertain the possibility that Alric Drayton was who he said he was, then it would mean everything he’d learnt was wrong.
But none of that mattered when it came too deciding whether he should accept Drayton’s gifts or the overtures they might imply. And he needed to make that decision today before more gifts arrived tomorrow or the day after, certain that Drayton would keep sending them until he garnered some sort of response from Eden. And the longer he put it off, the harder it would be as Drayton would assume Eden was open to whatever kind of relationship he was seeking between them. Not that Eden was entirely sure what he felt about that either.
He stood in front of his bed, hands on his hips and stared at the gifts. Each one more expensive than anything Eden could afford, even with the money Drayton had been putting into his bank account. And shit? Did he return all that money too... he couldn’t afford to do that now, maybe not ever. He exhaled heavily at the thought of the debt he’d owe if he had to pay it back, shoving his hands through his hair and tried to stop the panic creeping over his body. Returning the money wasn’t feasible. Eden would do it if Drayton demanded it, but then he’d never asked the wealthy businessman for it in the first place.
But what he could deal with was these gifts. He would return them today... before he chickened out.
However, he couldn’t turn up at the Silverdale Corporation’s head office wearing this, staring down at the ratty jeans he’d thrown on this morning. Eden wouldn’t make it in the door. He turned back to his closet, rifled through his clothes and muttered about their suitability before settling on a dark pair of jeans and a burgundy shirt – he refused to admit the colour bore a startling resemblance to the colour of Drayton’s eyes - and a dark blue suit jacket. Grabbing his towel off the end of his bed Eden hurried off for a quick shower.
An hour after the last gift arrived on his doorstep Eden stood on the pavement outside the offices of the Silverdale Corporation trying to muster up the confidence he’d had when Eden left the house. He gripped the straps of the bag he’d stuffed Drayton’s gifts in, pushed through the doors into the reception area and marched up to the front desk as though he belonged here. Tried to hide how badly his knees were shaking as he glanced around the wide-open space: jarringly white tiles and black furniture that matched the suits of the security guards stationed at the elevators and near the front desk. The urge to turn around and walk back out was strong, but Eden kept moving forward; the weight of the bag in his hand reminding him why he was here.
“Good morning sir, welcome to Silverdale Corporation, how may I help you?” the receptionist chirped, a smile plastered onto her face that didn’t falter even as Eden struggled to get out the words he needed to say.
“I wish to speak with Mr Dayton.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry sir, Mr Drayton is not currently available to see anyone. Did you have an appointment?” Eden shook his head. “Well then, I can make one for you-” tapping on her keyboard and pursed her lips together. “-there is a spare appointment... on Thursday. Two weeks from now. At eight in the morning.”
Two weeks? He was not waiting for two weeks to sort this out. Who knew how many gifts he might receive in that time? “No, it must be today. Please call him and tell a Mr Haversham, Mr Eden Haversham is here to see him.”
“But si- Mr Haversham, we have strict instructions that Mr Drayton is not to be disturbed for the next four hours. No exceptions.” The nervousness in her voice surprised Eden and he was almost certain that her hand had pushed a button to alert security.
“He will make an exception for me.” Now that he was here, Eden had no intention of leaving until Drayton took his gifts back or explained why he’d sent them in the first place.
He watched the receptionist’s gaze as it drifted over his shoulder and turned to see a lone security guard heading their way. The man’s stern expression quickly gave way to a sly grin as he got closer.
“Mr Haversham,” he greeted him before turning to the receptionist. “Marcia, Mr Haversham is the one exception to Mr Drayton’s instructions. Always.” The receptionist looked shaken, eyes downcast as she gave a brief nod. “If you are ready Mr Haversham, I will escort you up to Mr Drayton now.”