Eric sighed again as he looked at his list of prospective interior designers. The first had been an annoying unnatural red head that was so snobby and unprofessional that she laughed in his face when he described what he wanted for his bar Arlene Fowler of C&L Studio had pictures cut out of magazines as her portfolio.

The second hit on him the whole 20 minute meeting while she slutted up a poor cousin version of Sharon Stone in that movie. Her 'professional' attire consisted of a barely there skirt and practically open blouse which screamed desperate, not naughty office. She was on the down side of ageing, maybe late forties, with a bad Cheetoh colored streaky bottle tan. She had no prior work to show me, I think it was a store front for prostitution: Dawn Greene Parlor Designs more like $10 handy's and $20 happy ending's.

The last had been a real estate company that had a side division for staging houses to be sold and final design walk through with pre-existing furniture and such in place. Sort of like re-arranging someone's furniture, feng sui and shit like that. I thought I was shit out of luck till I ran into a willowy brunette coming back from a coffee run.

"Hi can I help you find your new home?" she smiled at me.
"Humm...oh sorry what was that?"
"Hi I'm Aude. Audrianna Quinn realtor and freelance interior decorator here at Pumphrey and Ball Interiors. Can I help you?" she winked and licked her plump shiny pink lips and I groaned.

I'm so not into getting involved right now. She was sexy and sweet and I have not gotten laid in 3 years. If I just fuck her then work with her it will be awkward and I don't do one nighter's or flings as a rule.

I learned my lesson with Felicia in college. I'm just not a hit and quit type. She fucked with my head, stringing me along while fucking my friends and it was humiliating. Nope just stick with your plan Northman. I've got a deadline. I've got to focus and I've got a shit load of money, not just mine, riding on this endeavor.

I smile back and I'm about to reply when I catch a glimmer from her left hand holding the coffee caddie. What the fuck is with all these women in this city itching to get scratched. She's wearing a ring for God sakes! I so do not want to call Pam and have her send Miriam from NY. I'm on a beer budget and that gluttonous viper lives on carbonated angel blood.

Oh she's staring me. "Hello, Eric Northman. I was wondering if you could refer me to an interior design company. I've struck out all over Shreveport so far. No one seems to get the style I'm envisioning for my bar. "

"Ah... sure. It's slim pickings in these parts and NOLA offers restoration mostly. What are you trying to achieve. Wine bar, Jazz collective, cocktails, maybe a lawyers club?"
Huh? This sounds promising. She motions me inside the automatic doors to a small showroom with desks off to one side and a small cubicle to back. Like a tiny bank slash furniture store.
" Just a bar were you can enjoy good music, good drinks, great atmosphere weather you be lawyer, businessman, truck driver, school teacher or small town neighbors. Everyone's welcome."
"Wow tall order. People round here don't socialize to much. You have city folk, in.. Shreveport, Monroe, Bossier and then country folk, Bon Temps, Hot Shot, Maynard. It's either sawdust and beer or snooty wine and cocktails." She taps her chin thinking.
This is not sounding good.
"That's why Shreveport needs a place like mine. Why Louisiana needs a place like mine. We are all Louisiana no matter were we hail from. It will work." I was getting desperate.
I wanted this as local as I can be. All building materials, marketing, liquor, beer ,food all from Louisiana." I pleaded.
She smiled a great big smile.
"Come with me. I know just who can do this"
She grabbed my arm and we walked about 5 blocks from her office to an old book store. okay...
"Go on go inside and look. Tell me how this place makes you feel."
Well here goes nothing. A design store front for prostitution and now a bookstore that designs bars.
I walk in and am blown away.

Instead of bookshelves it's wall to wall repurposed fireplace mantels of all sizes. The columns aged wood fit in to vintage book vibe. Several small reading areas are set up with reupholstered antique furniture. Small stools and side tables spread about topped with wrought iron lamps, the shades made of old newspapers from different local newspapers aroung the state. The floor is all reclaimed wood. Beautiful and fitting for this place. A picture hanging by the door catches my eye while i'm leaving. It's a small 5x8 black and white photo of two young men and a little boy standing by a barn. The placard reads J&H Design.
I walk out smilling and hug Aude. I'm elated its exactly what I'm looking for.

She looks bewildered but smiles awkwardly and I thank her again. She totally changed my impression of her, for the better. We head back to her office were she gives me the address, her card and I'm off.
I'ts not till I reach the interstate that I notice there is no phone number to make an appointment. I pull out my phone and call Aude to ask for it. She tells me its 'word of mouth' only. No appointments. Just show up and someone will be there. Oh and to keep an eye out for a giant wooden humingbird. That's my turn off when I get to Bon Temps. Well back woods here I come.