Please Hold – Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thanks for the feedback – I've responded to all the reviews I could for people with private messages, but I'm not entirely sure how this stuff works. One reviewer asked about EPOV and there will be bits and pieces, but not more than that for a while at least. I don't feel confident writing a man's perspective, especially an alpha male's (like Eric) perspective. Just to let you all know, my Eric is probably not too much of a stretch in this story, but Sookie will be a mixed bag of Ms. Harris's stubborn, ladylike character, with some twists to make her fit into my story. Regardless – I own nothing! Thanks for your time. (The actual meat of this chapter is over 2000 words – go me!)


I pulled Amelia's car carefully into the driveway. I picked up my shoes and bag, vigilantly locking both doors. She at least waited until I was half way to the house before bursting through the front door, running out to drag me to her apartment on the ground floor.

"How did it go? Did you get the job? Why do you look so tired? What took so long? Why aren't you wearing your shoes?" Did I mention my insane friend and landlady had no mind-mouth brakes – If she thinks it, it's coming out of her mouth before the thought is complete. "Did you..."

I threw my hands up to stop her. "If I've told you once, I've told you twice, I'd be happy to submit to your cross-examination but give me a chance to answer your questions. I would love a coffee too by the way." I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms – I've learned that you have to set up ground rules and boundaries immediately with her. Amelia at least looked a bit sheepish as she closed the door and lead the way to her too clean kitchen to start the coffee.

"Fine, but expect to be treated as a hostile witness if you hold back – even a smidgen." She huffed and winked.

"Duly noted" I grinned at her – she really might expire from curiosity, but she was trying to wait for the coffee to brew. After of a few moments of silence, I took pity on her and blurted, "I got the job – they started training me today after a long, strange interview."

The kettle whistled and I turned to pour it through the set up filter and grounds into Amelia's large, modern (read: abstract and strange) coffee pot. I smiled to myself – when had I ever had as good a friend as good as her?


Four months prior...

Gran was trying to get me out of bed and moving… I'd had to sell the house that Alcide and I were to live in – There was no way I'd be able to make the mortgage payments. So I'd returned home to her. She welcomed me with hugs and a strong shoulder to sob on – for about three days. Today the tough love began. She did warn me last night and I knew she was right, but it didn't mean reality was any more appealing in the bright morning sunshine.

I pretty much broke even on the house – getting it sold quickly in this weak market without having to make a short sale was a blessing. The truck had been a total loss – but I did get some insurance money and he also had a very modest life insurance policy. I decided to bank it into my when-you-figure-out-what-you're-going-to-do-now-that-your-life-is-over fund. At least that's what I called it in my head – Gran would probably thrash me for thinking that kind of thought out loud.

I dragged myself out of bed – fighting with the rubber band in my hair for a minute before I finally ripped it free. Usually I would cringe at the sound of my hair breaking, but I couldn't find the strength to care. I shed my clothes as I waited for the bath water to run hot. It only took a couple minutes – shivering in the cold tile room before I stepped under the sub-nuclear heat of the shower spray. I shampooed, rinsed, and repeated – three days of bed head takes effort to work out. As I left the conditioner in my hair, I scrubbed the few days of built up grime from my body. I blew my nose and washed my face twice and just stood in the spray until I could feel the heat in the water starting to fade. I knew from experience how quickly it would turn to glacial.

I got myself dressed enough to go help Gran with the last of the fall gardening and yard cleanup – Old jeans, old sneakers, and my old softball jersey from Bon Temps High. Gran met me at the bottom of the stairs with a smile and huge steaming cup of coffee. Gran prattled on about the cheesy grits that were waiting with bacon and toast. I followed her into our cheerful old kitchen and sat down to the mouthwatering Southern spread. I had just put the first spoonful of grits in my mouth when there was a loud knock from the front door. I jumped and looked at Gran – narrowing my eyes at her – I wasn't ready for company. Jason was coming by later, but he didn't count – he would have come in the back door through the kitchen anyhow. I wiped the look off my face when I saw the look on Gran's face and realized she was in her roughest gardening clothes too. No way was she expecting anyone either. We both shrugged, stood, and walked to the front door – peeking through a side window. There was a man – a rather round man in a very nice suit. There was a limo parked in front of the porch. I had a feeling he wasn't here to tell us that we'd won the publisher's clearing house prize.

Gran cleared her throat put a pleasant smile on her face and opened the door. "May I help you?"

The circular man introduced himself as Mr. Cataliades, an estate lawyer from New Orleans. Gran and I just continued to stare at him – clueless. We didn't know anyone in New Orleans, certainly no one that would have need for or be able to afford an estate lawyer wearing a suit like that with obviously expensive shoes. I worked in a restaurant for years – it's pretty easy to tell things about men especially by their shoes. This man's screamed expensive and conservative at the same time.

He cleared his throat. "Are you Sookie Stackhouse?" He asked, looking at me.

"Um… yes, oh where have my manners gone! – I'm Sookie Stackhouse and this in my Gran – Ms. Adele Stackhouse. Would you like to have a seat?" I pointed to the porch swing – lawyer with fancy shoes or no, he didn't need to come into the house.

Gran asked if she could get him a drink. He declined and requested that we sit. Not wanting to argue, and slightly (morbidly) curious, we dropped down on the swing.

"I have some bad news I'm afraid. It's you cousin, Hadley Delahoussaye – I suppose that also makes her your granddaughter." Gran nodded. "It took us some time to track down her family. She left everything she had to you Miss Stackhouse."

So that was it – she was dead. Gran turned to me, "I'm not going to watch those stories on TV anymore. The Horton's and Luke and Laura don't have anything on this family." I knew she was in shock and still processing so I chose not to comment. Instead I turned to Mr. Cataliades and waited for him to explain. Gran hadn't been far off – Hadley certainly surrounded herself with drama from the time she was a teenager and just kept going until she died – over three months ago. I felt less guilty about not inviting her to the wedding – she wouldn't have been able to attend. I scolded myself for think so ill of the dead. I also wondered if she knew what happened to her mother, Aunt Linda. I wondered why she would have left me anything. She never did get along with me – she had always seemed so resentful. Gran seemed to be taking this well. I think we had both assumed that she had died years ago sucked in by the glamour of drugs and money. At least it seemed that she'd found some happiness for a short time. Maybe that's why we both so calm. That or maybe our lives were far more shocking than we ever thought they would be and we were becoming a bit callous. I was snapped out of my reverie by Gran's question. "What do you mean she has an apartment with a lease paid for the next five years?"

"The surviving family members from the, ahem, other involved persons felt it important that all financial obligations Ms. Delahoussaye had taken on should be honored and fulfilled. She did not have a vehicle – hers was damaged during the levee breaks and while she did have her insurance paid out, but she had not yet replaced it. The expense of the rent and utilities for the apartment has been placed in trust. You have options with that – you could use the property of course, you could sublet it, or you could sell the lease. Regardless of your decision, you'll need to contact the owner and landlord – a Miss Amelia Broadway. I'll be in Shreveport for a few days. Here is your documentation of the estate. You were to be the executor, but as we couldn't find you, I acted in your stead. Please let me know if you have any questions. You will also find Miss Broadway's contact information here as well."

I thanked him, shook his hand, and walked with him to his car. He introduced me to his driver, a young woman called Gladiola, explaining that she was also his niece. She spoke so fast that listening to her gave me the edges of a headache – her outfit didn't help, but she seemed cheerful and kind.

Gran and I went in – silently clearing our full breakfast plates into the garbage – the news was all we could digest.

Four days later I met Amelia.


I was still rubbing my ears – trying to get out the shriek that Amelia let loose (far louder than the kettle). "Really Sookie? I'm so excited for you. You already started? How is it – super stuffy? Dull? What's this Mr. Northman like? A stodgy old square?" I think if she tried to hold still she might explode right now.

I pointed my eyes to the ceiling, shook my head, and rolled my neck while stretching. "Yes really. I got the job and started today. I took my shoes off because my feet hurt and I didn't want the heels to get scuffed in the car. I'll have to get a pair of sneakers to walk back and forth. Do you mind taking me tomorrow morning? It seems interesting. The keeper of the kingdom is the office manager, Mrs. Flanagan. She's very centered on manners and decorum – I think that may have been the clincher for getting me the job. I could give her Miss Manners answers. They even made me take mock calls from difficult clients."

"Of course I can drive you tomorrow, hell, just take my car – Octavia can pick me up on the way to the boutique like she did today. I just didn't want to jinx you by telling you that this morning. So – now tell me about this boss of yours. This Northman – is he ancient? Are you going to handle being cooped up with an old codger?"

I took a deep breath. "No – Mr. Northman is not ancient – I'd guess he's around 28. His dad had a heart attack a year or so ago and his son took over for him."

Amelia is a human lie detector. She can sniff out an abridgement faster than a beagle finds illegal fruit in an airport. I was sick about this. "And….?"

"He's the best looking man I've ever seen. And I've never felt so guilty before in my whole life, not even when I helped Jason steal Gran's Thanksgiving pecan pie when I was nine. But this is the perfect job for me and he seems to think I'm a little bit of a basket case. I think I got the job – like I said for my etiquette knowledge and because of that crazy recommendation I got from that Claudine woman we met at Nordstrom's." I finally let the stress of the day release when I burst into tears.


Across town – while Sookie sobbed with Amelia….

A man with the same color blond hair shook his head and let his head hit the desk with a rather loud and echoing thud. What had his Godmother gotten him into now?


So – a little bit longer chapter – this is going to run like a soap opera for a while Gran's not wrong about the drama in the Stackhouse clan and I haven't decided what I'll do with Jason yet. Then the slow burn between Sookie and Eric really builds. Their relationship is going to be a little nontraditional – maybe more than a little.

While I admit I will probably just write what flows best, but would order would you prefer to see the following events? (They are listed in chronological order)

* More of Alcide & Sookie's first meeting

* Sookie and Amelia's first meeting

* THE interview

I just want to feel out my readers' priorities. Hadley's final night will be expanded on – but not in the next chapter.

Also – please enjoy the frequent updates – Spring Break is over in a couple days and the daily grind will probably slow things down.