Coincidence?

Roman had decided enough was enough. He didn't want to think about that blond woman anymore. He dove into his work the next day, filling out paperwork and killing time before a dinner with a fellow businessman, Mr. Wade Cook. Mr. Cook wanted research done through Merinex that would potentially halt the aging process. Thinking about it, Roman laughed and looked in a mirror. He hadn't changed since 1796, when his father turned him. Those early days were exhilarating, no one posed a threat to him, he wasn't held to the law, and he had a lot of fun stretching and testing his newfound powers. Of course, there still was no threat to him, but he had aged mentally into a more refined vampire. This meeting was more of a formality than anything else. Merinex wouldn't allow that kind of research in their facilities anyway, the O'Haire's believed that one shouldn't play god. They were, however, working on other types of research that were, in a word, immoral. But what would vampires know of morality? There was a soft knock at his office door, he looked up from the work he had made little progress on. Too many philosophical questions on his mind.

"Enter," he said, loud enough for human ears to hear.

"Mr. O'Haire," Jermaine poked his head through the door, "Your dinner with Mr. Cook at D Cuisine is in half an hour. Which car would you like me to pull round?"

"The Mazda," Roman replied, looking at the clock. Time really did escape him today, which was unlike him. He was usually prompt. Before his butler could close the door, Roman said to him, "Thank you Jermaine."

"Of course, sir," Jermaine replied, looking a little shocked. This was the second time in the past two days that his boss thanked him. It was quite unlike him, and it made Jermaine wonder what was up.

Roman donned his jacket and walked out to his car. D Cuisine was one of his favorite Chinese restaurants nearby, even though he was a vampire he could still enjoy human food. He would, however, have to feed later on in the night to aid in his digestion of it. Roman drove to the area, parked, and went inside. Mr. Cook was not here yet, Roman would've been able to smell the fat man's clogged arteries. He had reservations, anyway. He was seated and he ordered a bottle of scotch for the table. Before the bottle came, however, he glimpsed a girl with blond curls walk in the front door.

'No, it couldn't be,' he thought. 'It really couldn't be. Twice in two days? That's more than a coincidence.' Whoever it was, they were hidden now behind the wall that separated the dining area from the host station. Then, they were taken to a table. It could be. It was. It was her. Roman felt his breath get taken away, yet again, by this curious creature. Veronica.