A/N: Oh goodness you guys, I want to just take a minute to thank every one of you who read the last chapter, reviewed, added the story to your subscriptions, etc... it really means a lot to me! I hope I messaged everyone back who reviewed! :) Anyways, I'm sorry this took so long for me to post...I got stuck on choosing Eric's alarm and it slowed the writing process haha :) I just want to thank my awesome and amazing beta MBSummer for giving this the look-see and making sure I don't make an utter fool of myself, and Carpe Nocturne as well for also taking a look :) You ladies are the BEST! And also, if you guys are interested in Pam fanfic, my friend mistressofthepink is writing a new story titled Losing Face. I've read the first couple chapters and they're really good :) So please check it out for me! And without further ado, here is the next chapter :) Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters :) All credit goes to Charlaine Harris!

Chapter 2

EPOV

Come on baby(don't fear the reaper)…baby take my hand(don't fear the reaper)…we'll be able to fly(don't fear the reaper)…

Even with the illustrious Blue Öyster Cult serenading me awake, I let out a loud disgruntled groan. I slowly sit up and hit the snooze button, cursing the hour. It is really too early for me to be getting up, but I agreed to meet the new prospective waitress at Fangtasia today and there are a million small details I need to go over before the opening anyways.

I roll out of my king-sized bed and trudge into the bathroom in preparation for a shower. I'm already running late, so I quickly toss off my black silk boxers. Just as I'm about to jump in, the Bananas in Pyjamas theme song starts going off on my phone. Pam does have the worst sense of humor. Ever since I got my Blackberry, she forced me to have that as her ringtone, simply because I used to watch that with her when we were younger. I hated that stupid show, but it always made her feel better when our parents were out travelling, so I assailed my eyes and ears.

I click the answer button to her saying, "Broder."

"Hej syster. Is there any reason as to why you're calling this early in the morning?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you were getting ready to interview the new waitress. And don't screw this one up Eric…it was hard enough finding this many girls with enough experience to satisfy me."

"Let me remind you that I'm the older sibling here, meaning I'm wiser. I know what I'm doing Pam."

"Oh yeah Eric, that's worked out so well before. Please consult the list of waitresses I've had to fire from Dad's restaurants just because you grew tired of them."

"Whatever, I'm already running behind and I need to shower. I will see you later today at the bar."

"Have fun darling brother. And remember, keep it in your pants." And with that, she hangs up.

The only thing our dearly departed parents ever kept constant in our lives was the nannies they hired to watch over us while they were out gallivanting around the world. While the women themselves never stayed long, they were always Swedish –as mother and father were told they were the best in the world- and so Pam and I eventually became fluent in the language. And when our parents did happen to grace us with their presence, we would speak to each other in Swedish….almost as if it was our secret code. Though that was years ago, Pam and I still speak to each other in Swedish at times, especially when we want to say something that we do not want others to know.

The call put me even further behind schedule, so I have to take a fast shower, which I am never fond of. I get out and towel myself off while riffling through closet; I quickly choose a pair of dark washed jeans, a black v-neck, and a pair of black boots and put them on. If I have to wake up this early, I might as well be comfortable.

When I get down to the kitchen, I find my black Labrador Dawson waiting patiently by his food bowl, as he always is when I wake up. Another one of Pam's lovely jokes was naming my dog Dawson after that stupid Dawson's Creek show she was obsessed with back in the day. However, the name stuck for some reason. I hurriedly give him his food and a drink along with a good pat on the head before I make way to the garage with my keys and a package of S'mores Poptarts.

I choose to drive my red Corvette today because it is supposed to be a nice day outside. I tie my hair back in a ponytail, because I absolutely hate what the wind does to my hair. I rev up the engine and listen to my baby purr…it's one of the best sounds in the world.

The ride to Fangtasia is short, and by the time I'm done with my Poptarts, I'm entering the parking lot. I walk in the building, taking notes of small improvements to the building and parking that will need to be taken care of before the opening next Friday.

As I enter the bar, I recall all the work that has been done to this property already. We had to start from scratch, but it looks pretty good now. The walls are painted blood red, with the bar, tables, stools, and floor all black. The walls are essentially bare, as Pam and I intend the waitresses and staff to add the remaining vampire ambiance.

While I stand admiring all the work we've put into this bar, my phone starts playing the Inspector Gadget theme song. Pam really is just full of cruel jokes. She set that ringtone for my business manager, Bobby Burnham, because she says he is just as incompetent as that bumbling detective. I rather like Bobby; he does what I ask without question, and while he may make a few mistakes, he is generally capable.

I answer, "Yes Bobby?"

"I just got off the phone with the alcohol distributor Mr. Northman. I have a few things I need to go over with you."

"Bobby, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Eric?"

Right as that phrase leaves my mouth, I see her out of my peripheral. She is a rather a striking woman, with long wavy blonde hair and a curvy physique. She's also wearing a very pretty red sundress, which is my favorite color. It takes a lot of will power not to hang up on Bobby and give her my full attention, but Pam's warnings are ringing in the back of my head and so I continue on.

"Anyways, what did they have to say Bobby?"

"They just wanted to let you know that the shipment of alcohol is coming in on Friday and that the bill will come with the shipment."

I notice her checking me out and a little confidence is put in my step. Women always seem to have that reaction to me, and it gives me a little extra power. Unfortunately, I am too busy paying attention to this Sookie girl that I have to ask Bobby to repeat what he said….much to his annoyance. I quickly rap up the call by telling Bobby to meet me and Pam at Fangtasia later today.

When I turn my attentions to Sookie, I notice that she seems to be in a dream state. I deliberate between being friendly or being my normal, brusque self….and with Pam in mind, I choose the latter. Just because she is an attractive woman does not mean I have to treat her differently from everyone else.

I clear my throat and say, "How may I help you?", even though I know who she is and why she is here.

"My name is Sookie Stackhouse, Mr. Northman. I believe I have an interview for a waitressing position today."

I lead her to a bar table and quickly get down to business.

"Well Miss Stackhouse, I looked over your resume and it seems you have the right qualifications for the job. You certainly have experience serving in a bar, and this Sam Merlotte character gave you a glowing recommendation. The real reason I asked you to come in, before I could offer you a job, was to make sure you fit the look that my sister and I are attempting to give this club…and I believe you'll do."

She'd more than do, I thought to myself, but I do not want to inflate her ego more if she has a large one already. In truth, when I spoke to Sam Merlotte, he practically told me that I would be sorry if I did not hire her. I do not respond well to threats, but he seemed to be an honest man and Pam approved of her resume, so here we are.

She seems a bit displeased with my last comment, and I feel almost….bad about the way I said it. But it can't be unsaid, so I let it go.

I go on, telling her, "Now, we have a strict dress code. As you know, this club is vampire-themed, and you are expected to keep up this façade. We have fangs for you to wear, and no, they are not like those silly fang sets that children wear for Halloween. They are professionally made by a Hollywood prop studio and therefore very expensive, so please try not to break them. We'll have one of the prop men take a mold of your mouth when you come back in a couple days for an employee meeting. You are also expected to dress the part as well. We're going for the dangerous, Gothic-type look, which means a gratuitous amount of black. This also is a club Miss Stackhouse, and so your clothing is expected to be a bit…racy. I will have Pam take you and some of the other girls shopping for the proper attire after the meeting. The expenses will be covered by us of course, as it is seen as a business expenditure. Are you willing to do all of this?"

I thought I might as well lay out all of the requirements so she knows what she is getting into, as she looks like a typical sheltered backwater Southern Belle. Now, I really did not care about what the waitresses wear, but Pam does. The fangs were my idea, as you need vampires in a vampire bar, but the rest of it is all due to Pam. I was glad she agreed to take the girls out shopping, because I really did not want to deal with her wrath if they did not pick out something to her liking.

She certainly does take her time in answering, but she eventually does, saying, "Yes Mr. Northman. When is the employee meeting?"

"On Thursday at 2 PM. We open a week from Friday and I hope that in addition to Thursday's meeting, you and the other waitresses will help with the last minute details."

We really did need help sorting everything out before the opening. Pam would never ask for help, but I knew she, Bobby, and I could not do it alone. If Sookie is the true Southern woman that I assume her to be, I know it is against her manners to say no. And she really shouldn't say no, because it is her job to work for the bar.

She nods, and I respond, "Good. Thank you for coming in today Miss Stackhouse. I'll see you at the meeting on Thursday. You are free to go."

My Blackberry vibrates as I say goodbye to Sookie, and not knowing if it was business, I check the text. Unfortunately, it is only one of my former conquests, a fierce red-headed accountant named Sophie-Anne. Her name alone reminds me of all the bad memories I have of us together. The text message reads:

"I get off work early today…want to meet up for dinner later? ;)"

Even though it's been a while since I have gone on a date, I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. I quickly delete the message and by the time I look up, Sookie is already walking towards the door. Seeing her leave stings a little bit, because I'm actually curious about her and I would like to get to know her….but Pam would have my balls if I even tried, and fighting with my little sister is exhausting. I sit at the table and think for a little while…and I know that Sookie is going to be nothing but trouble.

A/N: Alrighty, let me know what you guys think :) Any and all comments are appreciated :)