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Chapter 1
Part 1

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Chapter Description: Introducing Ms. Vanise.

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[quote][quote][quote]Watch tonight, it’s Halloween, Halloween...

The sing-a-long advertisement had become inescapable over the past two weeks, as hardly a commercial break went by without it. Complete with maddeningly catchy refrain, the “mystery” promo aired virtually nonstop on the big three networks until everyone in New York City knew it by heart.

”Baby, could you tell your bosses to lighten up on this Halloween special crap? It’s driving me insane,” Chelsea suggested, curling her feet under her thighs as she flicked past channel four. “It doesn’t even say what the special is.”

Toweling off from his morning shower, Justin answered from the open bathroom, steam spilling from the doorway. “Sure, it’s overplayed, but everyone’s talking about it.”

”Annoy people into curiosity, is that it? Like those Head-On commercials?”

”Yup. Apply directly to your hippocampus,” he said, pulling a crisp white shirt over his head. “Besides, none of us in programming know what the hell it is either. Probably just a stunt by some millionaire eccentric.”

Chelsea turned to face the half-dressed man emerging from the hallway, her cleavage threatening to overtake the neckhole on her silk pajamas. “Well, now you have me interested...”

”Tell me you aren’t going to watch that thing.”

”Can’t actually. I’ll be at work until ten.”

”Late one for me too, I’m afraid,” Justin sighed. He’d forgotten how cute Chelsea looked in the morning with her frazzled hair and droopy eyelids. She hated her appearance, of course, but Justin found it adorable in a homey sort of way. Going braless didn’t hurt either.

He pried his mind away from thoughts of a morning quickie and finished getting dressed. Leaving no time for breakfast, Justin assembled the day’s work into his brown leather briefcase and headed toward the couch.

”Kiss?” she insisted, pointing to her lips.

Justin planted a firm I-love-you on Chelsea and made for the door.

”See you tonight, k?”

”K. Love you. Want me to tape the special for you?” she asked with a smirk.

”No thanks, honey,” he said, blowing her another kiss. “Want me to pick up some candy?”

Chelsea faked a moment’s thought. “I’m not ten years old. I think I’ll make due.”

***

With traffic unusually thin, Justin arrived at Rockefeller Plaza twenty minutes early, giving him ample time to grab a latte in the commissary. Coffee was cheaper down the street, but he enjoyed the occasional celebrity sighting. Once inside, he caught Alyssa’s eye from the far end of the room. She immediately motioned for him to join her once he finished waiting in line.

A hefty dose of caffeine in hand, Justin squeezed his way past a large gathering of suits and sat down opposite his one-time colleague.

”Alyssa Madison,” he began. “Been awhile. Getting tired calling the shots with the big wigs yet?”

The hardscrabble young blonde had undergone a transformation since her promotion a year before, going from a perky but disorganized PR rep to a well-groomed professional, complete with beige pantsuit and perfectly parted bangs.

”Not yet,” she answered, grinning. “And the wigs aren’t that big.”

”You’ve turned into quite the businesswoman.”

”Eh, don’t be fooled,” she corrected him. “It’s all a facade. I could still drink anyone in this room under the table. And to be honest, a drink sounds great right about now.”

Justin snickered. “Start early?” he said, glancing at his watch. “It’s not even nine yet.”

”It’s this client,” she continued, exasperation already seeping into her voice. “Natalia Vanise.”

”Not familiar.”

”Watch tonight, it’s Halloween, Halloween... watch tonight...” Alyssa sang, imitating the nasal tone in the commerical.

”She the one behind this mysterious special?”

”Yes, and she’s a handful. Made her money on high-end electronics in Europe. Now, she’s wanting to start her own production company in New York. Grade A wacko too. This special of hers better be the ratings grabber of the year if she expects anything but a giant bill from us,” she explained, finishing the last of her crumbling chocolate muffin.

”I imagine. A half hour on all three major networks? Even the president can’t always swing that.”

”Well, you know, money talks,” she sighed, collecting her things. “Listen, it was great running into you again. I’ve got to get to a meeting. Say hi to Chelsea for me, OK?”

”Sure thing,” Justin answered, trying not to stare at the inviting view as Alyssa bent over. “See ya around.”

***

The workday crept along at its usual glacial pace, the only difference being the intermittent costumed employee strolling by Justin’s office. Nothing extravagant, of course. Just a few witches and a 46-year-old vampire with prescription lenses. Like most holidays, Halloween failed to inspire much enthusiasm in his department. Working in public relations was like wearing a costume year round, he thought. No need to add another one.

Curiosity about Ms. Vanise, however, kept the day from becoming too boring. With little real work left for the week, Justin was free to roam the company database for dirt. Turned out she was only 36, relatively young for such an international success story. One article noted the sudden unexplained disappearance of her husband in early 2002. Online biographies recorded few personal details beyond that, but did feature several photos, all revealing a woman of striking beauty.

This made his personal introduction to the exotic millionaire five minutes later all the more startling.

”Justin?” Bob knocked quietly on his office door.

”Yes?”

”I have a little assignment for you,” he said as a raven-haired woman in stiletto heels entered beside him and held out her slender hand.

”Pleasure to meet you,” she purred before pausing to look past his shoulder. “Or have we already?”

Confused by the question, Justin soon realized, much to his embarrassment, that he’d left an article on Ms. Vanise on his monitor. Hastily closing the window, he turned back around to offer his apologies.

”Serendipity, eh Mr. Foster?” she said, pinching her birdlike features into an expectant face.

”Guess so,” he agreed, still blushing.

”Ms. Vanise requested a member of our PR team tour her new studios,” Bob explained. “And she selected you.”

”I’m flattered,” Justin said, rising to collect his coat. “My car-”

”A limo is waiting out front,” Ms. Vanise interrupted. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable there.”

Throughout their brief, awkward chat, Justin appraised the new client’s attire, which bore no resemblance to the normal studio executive garb. Dressed nearly head to toe in black, Natalia Vanise wouldn’t have looked out of place at a goth nightclub. Penetrating eyes and a dangerously low v-neck dress - all of it added up to one hell of a first impression.

Justin submitted and soon found himself seated skittishly across from Ms. Vanise inside her elegant, leather-upholstered limo. The noir atmosphere of the interior made him wonder just how many illegal services had been exchanged there. This woman is either the world’s richest vampress or Aleister Crowley’s great granddaughter, he thought.

”So what do you think?” she inquired, curling her lips around a glass of Merlot.

”It’s... um... appropriate for Halloween,” Justin replied jovially, attempting to lighten the mood.

Natalia let out an unexpected chuckle before returning to her enigmatic self. “You’re nervous.” She swirled the contents of her glass like a potion. “It’s OK. I have that effect on people.”

Justin smiled like a reluctant prom date, tucking his hands under his legs.

”So what are your feelings on Halloween, Mr. Foster?”

Processing the strange question, Justin must have worn an expression that betrayed his disorientation.

”Come now,” Natalia beckoned, “surely you’re a fan?”

”Honestly, I’m not much of a Halloween guy,” he answered, a little worried Ms. Vanise might rebuke him.

”You didn’t dress up in your little costume and go trick or treating?”

”Well, yes, but it’s just never been a holiday I enjoyed particularly.”

”It has quite a history, you know.” Natalia again drained a small sip from her glass, as if preparing to tell a story. “Did you know in Northern England they celebrate ’Mischief Night’? Rather than beg for candy, children play a range of tricks on adults.”

Justin squirmed, unsure why the conversation had meandered into lesson territory.

”It isn’t always a treat, you see...” She grew a sly cast, eying her unwitting passenger like a detective. He couldn’t help but notice Ms. Vanise’s eyebrows always rose at end of each sentence, creating a palpable expectation of response. When none came, the periodic, vaguely sexual, tension again enveloped the two of them.

The trip out of town seemed inordinately long, even by New York standards. Justin expected as much, as Ms. Vanise’s freshly built production facility was located far beyond the metro area in a relatively isolated spot. A curious choice for someone wishing to break into the market and lure clients.

”If you don’t mind me asking why you needed me to come along...” he started to ask.

”Why not? It seems you’d already developed an interest in me,” she said.

”But how did you know before entering my office that-”

”My connections go deeper than you might imagine, Mr. Foster. You might say I’m a bit of a curious cat myself,” she explained, recrossing her legs. “When someone wants to know something about me, I want to know something about them. It’s only fair, right? Quid pro quo?”

Justin’s mind immediately went to Hannibal Lector when he heard the familiar Latin phrase.

”I suppose,” he replied tentatively. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

”Oh, nothing much. Just to give you a little guided tour of my new ten-million-dollar baby. Maybe get you to write a press release.”

A glint of skepticism appeared on Justin’s face. “But you said you wanted to know something about me. I can only assume you’re going to pop some personal question-”

”Maybe later,” Natalia said casually. “It looks like we’ve arrived.”

Eager to emerge from the dark cavern of Ms. Vanise’s limo, Justin wasted no time opening the door. Outside sat a three story building with a trendy glass facade. At least it’s not a haunted house, he thought, though he wouldn’t be surprised if it already housed a few skeletons. Inside, the facility appeared rather ordinary, reflecting none of its owner’s obvious eccentricities apart from a few black leather couches in the lobby.

”Ms. Vanise,” a secretary said, nodding ceremoniously.

”This is Justin Foster from NBC. He’ll be shadowing me today,” Natalia informed her over the echoing clicks of her high heels.

Inside, a long hallway lined with identical white doors gave a stark, almost dreamlike feel to the place. Before they reached the end, a boy of about six materialized from one of the many mystery doors, followed closely by what appeared to be a nanny.

Though hours from the official start of trick-or-treat that night, the reluctant first-grader already donned his Halloween costume (Harry Potter). As he approached Natalia, her eyes instantly lit up.

”Well hello there, Aaron!” she exclaimed, crouched to his level. “Come by to show off your costume?”

”He wanted to see the studios before tonight’s big special,” the babysitter said. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

”Oh no,” Natalia gushed, “I love having my little guy around.”

She tousled his uncombed hair. The boy mustered another lukewarm smile, revealing a prominent gap between his bottom teeth, but remained noticeably silent. Even so, Justin had to admit the child’s mere presence did much to lighten the somewhat sterile surroundings. From an angle, the boy even struck a resemblance to Justin’s old childhood photos, save for the light dusting of freckles across his nose. Natalia’s mood certainly changed fast, he noted. Who knew Vampira had a soft spot for kids?

”Come on, kiddo,” she said, holding hands with the young wizard. “I can take him from here.” She dismissed the babysitter with a wave.

The three of them traveled down yet another interminable hallway before reaching a door marked “Studio A.” On the other side they were greeted by a massive video editing console, bathed in a moody blue light.

”Did you know, Mr. Foster, the average American watches five hours of TV a day?”

”I heard something like that.”

”And the longer a person watches television, the more likely they are to be put into a trance-like state. Interesting phenomenon really. They go into alpha mode, where they’re more passive and receptive to information,” Natalia rattled off the facts like a seasoned professor. ”Tell me. Do you actually watch any of the programs you promote?”

”Sometimes.”

”My husband used to watch TV constantly - mornings, afternoons, nights,” she sighed. “It didn’t matter. I didn’t matter.” She placed her hands on the boy’s shoulders, then hugged him close to her chest. “TV is powerful, Mr. Foster. And I’m about to make it more powerful.”

”With a one-time Halloween special?” Justin inquired, doubtful.

”Aaron here has seen it,” she said. “What did you think?”

”It was good, Mommy," the boy muttered.

"See?"

”You’ll need more than your son’s approval, Ms. Vanise, if you want to score monster ratings-” Justin laughed.

Natalia’s lips curled mischievously up at both ends. “Is that who you think this is?”

”I just assumed-”

”Well, it’s just semantics I suppose... son... husband...”

”What the hell you talking about?”

”I told you, Mr. Foster, I’m about to introduce a new kind of television. One I can guarantee you and your friends will be talking about at the water cooler tomorrow.”

Agitated and more than a little creeped out, Justin backed up a step, putting some distance between himself and the pair. “Is this some kind of practical joke?”

”Not at all,” she spoke matter-of-factly while slowly circling Justin. ”By nine o’clock tonight, a lot of your viewers are going to look like Aaron here.”

”Are you trying to tell me this is your husband?!”

”Again, husband, son... I find he’s a lot easier to control this way,” she said, patting her little companion on the head. “You know what they say; the only time a woman really changes a man is when he’s a baby.”

”You’re out of your mind,” Justin panted, inching closer and closer to the exit as two security guards approached.

”I think Mr. Foster here needs a little demonstration. What do you think, Aaron?”[/quote][/quote][/quote]

 

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