I shake Sam’s hand, trying to give her my best smile as I say, “Oh! Yes, hi, we met during the interview!” I’d been interviewed by a panel of three company representatives, but I remember Sam was the friendliest and easiest to talk to. 

She lets go of my hand, directing me to the security guard. “Have you met Rupert?”

“Uh, not yet. Hi, I’m Micah.” I extend my hand. 

The man behind the desk isn’t as friendly as Sam. He seems quite stern as he gets up from his chair and shakes my hand. He has sharp green eyes and short gray hair. He stares at me down his hooked nose, and I feel like he’s scrutinizing me. 

I swallow hard. Can he tell there’s something off about me?

Do I have blood at the corner of my mouth from feeding?

Are my fangs showing?

Am I sweating or tearing up?

My heart is racing as he looks over his desk. I can see security camera monitors are under the counter, tucked away. At first I think maybe he’s looking for an alarm to sound or something sinister to point out to me—something I’ve done wrong—but he picks up a badge and hands it to me. 

“Here ya are. Used your photo from the application for now, but we should make an appointment to take a new one after your trial period is over. If ya meet Sam’s standards that is.” He winks before letting go of the badge. 

I laugh nervously and realize he was probably just staring at me to make sure I match my photo. I feel my anxiety ease a little as Rupert takes his seat behind the desk again and goes back to tending the monitors. 

Sam points at the ID tag, saying, “Just put it around your neck. You can follow me and I’ll get you your uniform! Then you can just clip the badge to your breast pocket or your belt. You’ll need it handy to get through some clearance areas like the higher-ups’ offices.” 

I take the thin lanyard and hang it around my neck. I look down at the ID badge and feel a sense of pride run through me as I see my name and photo above a barcode with my employee number and the title: JANITOR. 

“If you’re all ready, do you want to follow me?” Sam asks, and I can see she’s already taken a step toward the elevator bank. 

I jolt, following her lead as I assure her, “Of course! I’m excited to get started.” I hope she can hear that I’m genuine. 

She beams, walking briskly. “Good! It’s a pretty difficult position to fill, so I’m glad you’re looking forward to it! Most people hate the night shift because it interferes too much with their personal lives. Though, some just find it spooky after everyone leaves.” She giggles to herself, stepping into an elevator that already has its doors open and a few people in it.   

I follow her in as she pushes the button for one of the higher floors. 

The doors close and I can feel the elevator start to move. It makes me feel weightless for a second and there’s a lurch in my stomach. I expect a mirror or something, but there’s just a metal bar around textured metal walls and a small monitor above the button panel that says what floor we’re passing. I watch it count up, trying not to feel inferior to the other people standing beside me in crisp suits with briefcases, all looking at their phones and tablets, or files of paper.  

I keep my voice low as I ask, “So, there’s a team of janitors for the whole building and I’m in charge of two floors, is that correct?”

Sam nods, answering, “Yup! I’m the late-night manager so I oversee you and the other janitors working the same shift. If there are any big tasks I might pair you up with someone else, but your daily check-list will be a solo job. Today I’ll show you the ropes and make sure you’ve got a good handle on everything. It may take one or two shifts to feel comfortable on your own, but you can always text me if you’re unsure about anything. And we’ll go over everything in my office.”

I nod, taking a deep breath as I start to feel nervous again. 

She nudges me gently with her elbow, saying, “Don’t worry. I have every expectation that you’ll do great and fit right in. Your resume was very impressive! If anything, you’re probably overqualified.” 

I blush a little at the compliment. 

The elevator doors open a few times on the way up with a cheerful ding and people get off on their floors. Then it’s our turn. I follow Sam out of the elevator and into a grand hall with polished wood paneling on the walls and beautiful marble floors. It’s quiet with the faint sounds of phones ringing and people talking inside the offices we pass. Most of them have sign plates on the doors with the names of people or companies in gold script.

For a moment I imagine my name on a door plate like that. What would I look like in a suit? Someone important with a briefcase and clients that depend on me. 

It makes me think of the man who caught me at the pharmacy and I blush. Maybe if I was someone important I’d have been a bit more bold during that interaction. Maybe I’d have gotten his name or his number—say I should take him out to dinner as a way of thanks. 

“Micah!”

Sam’s voice startles me and I realize I’m walking alone. 

I turn swiftly on my heels, glancing over my shoulder to see she’s holding a door open for me; it’s plainer than the others and has a sign on it that says, JANITOR’S OFFICE.

Backtracking, I ruffle my hair sheepishly as I say, “Sorry! I was lost in thought. Won’t happen again.” I sincerely hope it doesn’t. I really want to have a good first day. 

“No worries, I’m sure you’re a bit nervous. But you don’t need to be! Come on in and we’ll go over everything.” 

I step inside the office and the door closes behind me. It’s a nice bright room with gray carpeting. There’s a desk and computer along with a couch, a small table and set of chairs, and a counter with a sink, coffee maker, fridge, and microwave. It’s more like a staff lounge or a break room than an office.  

Sam sits at the desk and turns on the computer, looking over something I can’t quite make out. “Take off your coat and have a seat! I’m just going over your placement and trying to remember which locker I assigned you.” 

I take off my coat and scarf, placing them beside me as I sink into the couch. It’s more comfortable than I was expecting. 

Sam is quiet for a moment before she swivels in her chair and smiles at me. “Alrighty! Ready to get started?”

I watch a short video on company policies and etiquette. I’ve already watched the longer video prior to my first shift and completed the certification online, so this is more of a refresher.

I’m shown my locker. We find a jumpsuit that fits and I’m asked to change, which I do in the small bathroom. There’s a shower in there, too, though I hope I never need to use it. Maybe if there’s a really messy job. 

The jumpsuit is comfortable. It feels like it’s made of cotton, breathable and soft. Next time I’ll bring sneakers and leave them in my locker, but Sam says my boots are fine for today. 

Attached to the office area is the store room. Metal shelves of cleaning products, chemicals, trash bags, gloves, and anything I could possibly need were all neatly organized. Sam shows me my supply cart and how to load it with the products I need. 

“This cart is going to be your life-line for the next 8 hours,” Sam says, patting the handle fondly. “You can take your half hour break at any time, just make sure you log it. Clock in and out only 10min before shift starts. And text me if you’re unsure of anything when I’m not around.”

I nod, gripping the handle of the cart with my gloved hands. “Right. Got it.” 

After explaining each product on my cart and use for them, she checks the time on the phone. “Alright. The building is officially closed, so we can get to work. Though, a lot of employees stay late so be respectful if you see them around. They might walk through a hall you just mopped or be occupying a board room you have to clean. Just knock and if it’s empty you can do your tasks. If it’s not, ask when a good time is to come back. Don’t be surprised if they’re a bit snarky. No one wants to stay late, and if they are, there’s probably a stressful reason for it.”

She shows me how to mop the floor and set up the WET FLOOR sign. Then she watches me and corrects my technique so I get a better and more efficient clean. She points out the washrooms and pulls a clipboard off the cart, showing a detailed checklist of tasks for each area. The washrooms and mopping seem like the most time consuming tasks considering I’m in charge of two floors, but it all feels like monotonous routine work, something I can easily get lost in. 

“If you want to listen to music while you clean, that’s fine with me. Just make sure it’s a low volume so it doesn’t disturb anyone and you can hear if someone talks to you. It’s cool if you need to answer texts every now and then, but I don’t want to see you on your phone all the time. These tasks all need to be done by the end of your shift. Okay?” For the first time, Sam sounds stern and I can tell she takes this job seriously. 

I nod, saying with confidence, “Absolutely, I understand. No slacking off.”

She beams at me, giving me a pat on the back. “You got it! Okay, let’s go through the offices now and I’ll show you how to collect the garbage and recycling and what to do with it. While you’re in the conference rooms it’s good to vacuum and wipe them down as well. So do everything in one room and then move on to the next instead of doing all the garbage then coming back to do all the vacuuming.”

I take notes as she explains and ask questions every now and then. I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment every time she tells me I’ve got it or I’m a natural. They’re small tasks but getting someone’s approval feels good. I haven’t had that in a long time. 

I finish a full floor and take my break with Sam. She eats a sandwich and has several containers of fruits and veggies. “Didn’t you pack anything?” she asks between bites. 

My stomach clenches as I make up an excuse. “Oh I don’t really eat much during work hours. Just breakfast and dinner.” She seems to find it odd but accepts it. 

I’m relieved. The last thing I want is to disclose what I am. It’s not legally required on employee paperwork, but I have the feeling I wouldn’t have gotten this job if I’d openly stated that I’m… a vampire. 

After our break, we move to the next floor. It’s the same routine as the lower floor, but the offices are larger here and I realize we’re at the very top of the building. It makes me nervous. The hall is even nicer up here with lots of large portraits of company officials, most of them old men. I mop the hall and clean the bathrooms with Sam just watching me this time. 

We make small talk as I start to clean the conference rooms, though it’s nothing personal. Mostly about the city and how I’m finding it, since I just moved here. She suggests some fun attractions in the area I consider checking out one night if they’re still open. 

Most of the restaurants and bars I know I’ll never go to. 

I’m about to move on to the next room when Sam’s phone rings. 

“Yello?” She says cheerfully before listening to whoever’s on the other end. “Oh shit, seriously? That sounds like a mess… No, I’m just upstairs with the new guy. Yeah he’s doing good!”

I blush at the compliment, wondering if she’s talking to another employee. 

My suspicions are confirmed as she sighs and says, “Damn. Okay, I’ll be right down.” She hangs up and gives me an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry, but there’s a clogged toilet flooding downstairs and one of the other janitors can’t find the snake. Are you okay up here trying to go through the list on your own? I’ll be back in a flash and make sure to check over everything. And if you have questions, I’m just a text away!”  

It’s sweet how often she reassures me I can text her. I smile and wave her off, saying, “It’s no problem. It’ll be good practice for me doing it on my own. I’m just going to start on the next room.”

She gives me a thumbs up. “Okay! Thanks, you’re a superstar! Oh, just a heads up. I think the CEO is still in his office. He usually stays pretty late but just knock before you head in. He probably won’t want you to vacuum but collect the trash and ask if he needs anything.”

It makes me nervous thinking I’ll meet the CEO of the whole company. I want to make a good impression as a new hire, though I sort of doubt he oversees things like filling janitorial positions. 

“Okay, what room is he in?”

“End of the hall. Can’t miss it. The door literally says CEO on it and it’s the biggest damn office in this place.” She laughs before exiting the room. 

I can hear her walking down the hall but after a while it feels silent. My heart starts pounding and I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. Maybe it’s because I suddenly feel so much more responsible. 

I finish up cleaning the conference room and move on to the next. Clean, vacuum, collect trash, next. I repeat my tasks systematically, starting to get a flow in the different objectives. 

Then I reach the last door at the end of the hall. 

CEO, VINCENT SHARPE. 

The door is slightly open. There’s a light on inside and I can hear a man talking in a low voice. It sounds like maybe he’s on the phone. I wonder if I should leave and come back, but it’s the last room I have to take care of before dropping off the garbage at the main disposal site. 

With a deep breath, I rap my knuckles on the door. 

There’s more murmurs before the man shouts, “Yeah? Come in!”

It makes me jump but I open the door and sheepishly peer inside before taking a few steps forward.

The office is massive and modern, well furnished in a way that makes it look like it belongs on someone’s dream office inspo board. I look at the shelves that are tastefully decorated with some artsy knickknacks and a few plants. Then my attention falls to the main desk, set in front of a wall of shining windows. You can practically see the whole glittering city through them.

The desk is home to a computer and stacks of papers. It looks like it’s the most expensive thing in the room; some kind of glistening exotic wood.

I can only imagine the man sitting there is CEO Vincent Sharpe, and as I finally allow myself to look at him, I feel my eyes widen and my lips part in shock.

The first thing that catches my attention is the pretty blue tie that stands out against the dark fabric of his fitted suit. He’s wearing an expensive watch. Black hair falls over his dark eyes in waves as he writes something down on a piece of paper. Then he hangs up the phone and looks up at me. “Sorry about that. You must be the new janitor. I was wondering if I’d bump into you.” He stands and outstretches his hand to me over his desk. “It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

I shake myself out of my stunned stupor to enter the office and stand in front of his desk in a rush. I remove my filthy glove and shake his hand, feeling the almost familiar warm skin meet mine. “Thank you, sir. I’m Micah. Micah Sevier.”

He gives me a dazzling smile, one that hits me like a shot to the heart… just like it did earlier today at the pharmacy. “Micah. You can drop the ‘sir’. Just call me Vincent.”