DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters - Charlaine Harris does. They're just so much fun to play with.

Public Relations

Chapter One

EPOV

I'd like to say it started like any other night, but it didn't. Sophie-Anne had been riled up as per usual, but instead of going out with her friends to blow off some steam, she chose me as her target. We had been dating for a few months now and the paparazzi in Hollywood had not been kind. Sophie-Anne Leclerq was an up-and-coming young actress; I had already claimed my place in this world as an "A-lister". The tabloids and papers did everything they could to create some sort of false romance between us. They believed that Sophie-Anne only wanted an association with me so she could propel her career forward. I thought it was a load of crap.

Sophie-Anne did not have a tough skin yet. She bought into what they said about her and let it affect our relationship. The last night we had been together as a couple resulted in her friends dragging her out of my house screaming. That had been after she'd thrown everything she could lay her hands on in my direction.

The fight had mentally exhausted me. I stood there in the living room of my million-dollar home surrounded by debris; there was nothing more I wanted than to get out of my house. Sophie-Anne had irritated me, threatened my life, and all the debris was a physical reminder of that. I so needed a beer.

I decided to go to the small pub that was within walking distance of my home. Truthfully, I didn't go there often; usually I made a public appearance at one of the hotter nightclubs this town had to offer, but I just couldn't take the pressure of it all. The pub was owned by an old friend of mine, Sam Merlotte. I knew he wouldn't give me trouble or alert the press and as I walked into the unassuming pub, I wondered why I didn't come here more often.

I took a seat at the bar. The place was mostly empty tonight. The only patrons were some serious drunks and a few small groups of people: less people to recognize me. The last thing I wanted was to be bothered; Sophie-Anne had made sure that I was already.

Sam Merlotte, himself, was working the bar that night. I looked shocked to see me there taking residence on one of his stools.

"Eric Northman," he said quietly, no need to draw attention. "What a surprise. I haven't seen you since that Sophie-Anne girl started hanging off you. What brings you here?"

I replied with a small smile, "Well that 'Sophie-Anne girl' broke just about every vase in my living room by hurling them at me about an hour ago. Needless to say, we are through."

"Is that all it takes?" Sam asked, amused.

"Afraid so. If she can't handle the pressure, why should I put in the time?"

Sam nodded. I could see that he didn't quite agree with my statement, but to hell with him. I wasn't out to impress anybody tonight.

Sam handed me a scotch on the rocks and left to serve the other customers. I turned around on my bar stool to examine the small crowd. It was nice being in a public place where no one kept staring at you or came up to try to make small talk. That is, it was nice until I noticed a table at which two beautiful ladies sat. There was a blonde and a brunette. The brunette had an obvious sadness hanging around her and the blonde kept chatting away in an attempt to cheer her up. Even though I wasn't that close, the situation was obvious.

"Do you know those girls?" I asked Sam as I motioned at the girls' table. This was one of those pubs that catered to regulars.

"Uh, not their names, but I see them in here often enough."

A small crease formed between my eyebrows. This was not the response I had hoped for. Sam left again to serve the other clientele and I was left to my own devices. I needed a good distraction tonight to put Sophie-Anne out of my mind and ladies' table offered just that. I sat facing them, observing their communication. The brunette constantly looked at her half-empty drink while the blonde emphatically tried to hold her attention. It didn't look like it was going so well. The blonde was enchanting to watch, though. There was a big smile on her face and her long, wavy blonde hair moved around her in the most mesmerizing way. I wanted to meet her.

I was trying to figure out a reasonable way to introduce myself without seeming obvious when I found my chance. The blonde, having slammed back the rest of her drink, stood up from her table and walked off in the direction of the bathrooms. I quickly followed suit.

Luck smiled upon me when I rounded the corner and saw her leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom door. I was curious; the women's bathroom didn't seem occupied.

I was slowly approaching her to go to the men's further down the hall when I saw that she had spotted me. The spark in her eyes and the change in her body told me that she definitely knew who I was.

"You're...," she breathed. I took control of the conversation.

"Hi." I said as I stuck out my hand. It seemed like a trivial thing to do, but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. "I'm Eric Northman."

She stared at me for a long moment and I wondered if she was more drunk than she appeared. As she took my hand, she seemed to find her way back to the present.

"Sookie Stackhouse." She regarded me cautiously, obviously wondering what I was doing introducing myself to a "nobody" like her.

"Well, Sookie, how's your friend coming along?" I asked referring to the brunette.

She shook her head in defeat. "Slowly. You were watching?" Her eyes evenly bore into mine as she uttered the question.

"Noticing. I noticed." I replied equally as even.

"I see." Sookie pursed her lips, still trying to decipher what it was I wanted. "So, do you come here often?"

I chuckled; I couldn't help it. "No, not really. It's just close to my home and I needed to escape." I wondered if I'd revealed too much.

"You live near here?" She was astounded. Was it really so far-fetched that someone like me couldn't live in the city?

"Yes, only a couple of blocks away."

"In a penthouse, no doubt," she stated.

I sighed inwardly. She was trying to peg me, see what kind of man I was without getting to know me. "Yes," I confessed, "I live in a penthouse."

"I see," she repeated.

I had no idea what to make of this woman while she seemed to have a clear understanding of me. It just wasn't fair. She pushed her small body off the wall and faced me fully. She was quite close and when she pulled herself up to her full height, I could see that my 6'4" frame towered over her still, not that I had been expecting her to be an Amazon. She regarded me with her cool blue eyes and I found myself unable to speak. Things I should say raced around in my head, but not a single one was able to escape my mouth.

Naturally, she spoke first, "It was nice meeting you, Eric Northman." She stepped to the side and made to walk pass me, but I blocked her way.

"Wait."

She stopped and looked at me. Annoyance was clear in her eyes; she had probably been away from her friend too long. She crossed her arms under her chest and the action only enhanced her breasts. I forced myself to look at her face.

"You have been judging me and creating an opinion of me the entire... two minutes or so we have been standing here and all I wanted to ask was: will you have a drink with me?" My words came out clear and gentle, but my heart had been pounding in my chest. I couldn't help it; I was nervous. This Sookie Stackhouse with her blonde hair, blue eyes, soft lips, and curvy frame made me nervous. I hated it.

With Sophie-Anne, I had always understood where I had stood. She was like an open book to me; I could always know what to expect from her. I had felt comfortable. Sookie was an anomaly, though. As I stared into those baby blues, I simply waited for an answer. Trying to figure out what she was thinking was pointless.

Sookie's response was this: laughter. She laughed at me. Not big, belly laughs, but a charming laughed that warmed me to the core. Her laughter was like bells and I couldn't help but smile in return.

"I'm sorry," she said in between giggles. "I would, but y'know..."

I gave her a blank look.

"My friend," Sookie explained. "I can't leave her alone. She just broke up with her boyfriend and I don't think that leaving her for you would be a big boost for her self-esteem, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, of course." I did understand what she meant; having sisters does that.

"Well, thanks for the offer, though." She beamed at me.

"Anytime," I sincerely replied and she strode off.

I went into the men's washroom to go over the short exchange in my head. It hadn't gone as well as I had hoped, but at least I knew her name. To be honest, I had just been looking for a rebound; someone to warm me tonight as Sophie-Anne sulked in whatever accommodations she'd been given for the night. I certainly wasn't looking for any type of relationship, that's for sure. I would need time to replace my breakables before anything like that happened.

Yet, I found myself smiling as I washed my hands. While Sookie hadn't given me what I wanted, I wasn't regretting my conversation with her. She had certainly been smart and I realized that I still wanted her. In my bed. Naked.

Maybe I was tired of easy women. There was certainly no satisfaction – other than the sexual one – when you finally landed one. With those types, it was only a matter of putting myself in a public place and waiting. They were like fish that would flop up onto the deck of your boat for you.

Sophie-Anne had been easy, though she had tried her best not to be. She had resisted my advances for about an hour, but all her efforts went down the drain when I had kissed her. After that first night, I kept her around because she'd been a damn good fuck. She knew what I liked, and she knew how to use her body. The conversation had been boring at times, but then again, we didn't really see each other in the daytime that often.

A couple of months into our "relationship", Sophie-Anne had finally shown me her crazy. She was paranoid, always thinking I had a girl on the side, which I didn't. At first, it had seemed harmless. I had written it off as a severe case of jealousy, which I didn't mind at all, but then she had started withholding sex and that's when I realized I had to do something about it.

It didn't take long for Sophie-Anne to reach the climax she had come to tonight. In a way, I had sort of egged her on. But just think! I could've implied that maybe I had been to a nightclub with another woman – my co-worker – or I could've let this madness drag on for another month or so. Severing ties with Sophie-Anne seemed to be the best route. Like a Band-Aid, I just had to rip it off quick.

I was brought back to my present situation when another man entered the washroom. With a brief nod to each other, I exited. I strode back into the bar area with a new purpose: I was going to buy Sookie and her friend a drink and then I would be able to continue my pursuit. As I stood at the bar and waited for Sam's attention, I turned and looked at the table where the women had been sitting. A foolish grin had found a place on my face as I had started to put my plan into action, but it quickly disappeared when my eyes did not find what they were seeking. The one thing I had not counted on happening had happened; the girls were gone. Fuck.

SPOV

Truthfully, I couldn't get out of there quick enough. Eric Northman had approached me. Eric Northman had wanted to buy me a drink. Eric Northman, Eric Northman, Eric Northman. My mind repeated his name like a mantra. No matter how many footsteps I put between me and that man, I couldn't let go of the situation.

After my brief encounter with the man, I went back to my table and practically yanked Amelia out of her chair. My distraught, brunette friend had been too busy wallowing in her own depression to even really register my change in attitude.

"Come on," I said roughly, "we are going to go home, eat ice cream until we throw up and watch movies until we pass out."

I looked at Amelia for a reaction. She meekly nodded and kept her eyes on the pavement. I continued my desperate walk home, wanting to be in the safety of my home before Eric Northman even knew we were gone. I cast a glance behind me every now and again making sure that we weren't being followed and that Amelia was still compliantly walking along.

When we reached our apartment and the deadbolt was locked behind us, I grasped Amelia by both shoulders.

"Amelia," I said gently. "Amelia."

She didn't even look at me. The longer the night went on, the more unresponsive she got. I was worried. Normally she was a spitfire, someone who could cheer me up no matter what.

"Amelia." This time I gave her a little shake. Her head bobbed; it was as if I was trying to wake her up when she was asleep. "Snap out of it!"

I knew I sounded desperate, but I didn't know what else to do. All my attempts this evening had gone south. Taking her out to a new place didn't help. Gossip and chatter didn't help. Hell, I'd even seen a few attractive guys at the bar and tried to point them out to her; that only made things worse.

In a last attempt, I told her a lie: "Look Amelia, I'm sure Quinn'll smarten up. He'll see what a mistake he's made and come crawling back to you."

I suppressed a giggle. The thought of the extremely tall, muscular Quinn crawling on his hands and knees was enough to amuse anyone, I'm sure.

Amelia looked up at me at the sound of Quinn's name. I felt awful as I saw a spark of hope in her eye. Quinn would not come back. Even if he did, I wouldn't let him. He had made my best friend comatose within hours of breaking up with her. It was a dangerous relationship those two were involved in and I wouldn't have any of it. I hope Amelia understood that.

Our movie night was somewhat a success. We got dressed in our pyjamas and settled on the couch for a long night. Amelia was out halfway into the first movie. I saw her slump against the armrest and finally she was asleep. Stress and sadness was tiring; I should know.

My first relationship was with a guy named Bill Compton. At first, we were the epitome of happiness and contentment. Nevertheless, by the end, stress and sadness were familiar emotions to me. Bill cheated on me once, but on the outside, I forgave him. After that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get past that bump in our relationship. It was like a canyon, he was on the other side carrying on, and I was stuck.

The distance between us left me emotionally unstable and paranoid. I thought every girl he looked at was sleeping with him and that everyone else was in on it. I never admitted to him that I didn't trust him, however. I wanted this thing to work. I needed it to work. I was tired of being lonely and alone. Bill obviously cared for me and I wanted so desperately to care for him again.

After months of struggling with these emotions, things finally came to a boil. I came home early from my shift waitressing and I found another woman alone in my bed. I didn't know where the hell Bill was and I found that I certainly didn't care. He could go and screw the whole female population if he wanted; I was leaving.

I didn't scream at the woman and I didn't find Bill so we could duke it out. I simply grabbed a suitcase from the closet and filled it with a random assortment of clothes; I would get somebody to send me the rest later. The woman sat in my bed with my sheet held up to modestly cover her breasts. I didn't look at her, but I knew she was watching me.

I think I passed Bill as he emerged from the kitchen on my way out, but I wasn't sure. I had tunnel vision and all I could see was my car. If it was him, he didn't acknowledge me, or if he did, he didn't try hard enough. I got in my car and drove down the gravel driveway with no clear direction in mind. I just wanted as far away from Bill as possible.

I didn't care about the unending road or the darkening sky, but I did notice a city once I arrived. It was bright, it was big, and it was the exact opposite of where I'd departed from. It short, it was perfect.

I slipped out of my reverie as I heard the music for the movie credits. I smiled at myself as I realized I'd been daydreaming for the past forty-five minutes. It was a record, I'm sure.

While my daydream hadn't been a particularly happy one, I found that I was glad Eric Northman hadn't been able to wheedle his way into it. Then I was thinking about him. Him and his golden hair, his tall, slim, muscular body, his blue, blue eyes...

"Damn," I cursed silently to myself.

I turned off the TV and after covering Amelia's form with a blanket, trod off to my room. I was exhausted. Trying to keep Amelia entertained for so long had taken almost every ounce of energy I'd had to spare. I crawled under the down covers of my bed and as I lay there in the darkness, I hoped that she would be better tomorrow. My mind wandered lazily over the events of the day: the devastating phone call, the tissues, the attempts to cheer her up, and lastly the unexpected encounter.

I cursed to myself again, but it came out as a sleepy mumble. I couldn't help as I drifted off to sleep that the last thing I saw was Eric Northman's gorgeous face.