"It's not what it looked like," Sookie said with resignation as she tried to hold Alcide's accusing stare.
'Damn you Eric Northman! Damn you to hell!' she thought dismally as she watched the back of the Viking's head disappear from the corridor.
"Did he force himself on you?" Alcide asked in a low guttural voice. His fists clenched on his sides.
"No!" she replied quickly. Sookie tried to rehash what happened in the restroom in her head. What she said was the truth. Eric Northman didn't harass her. Well, not physically. He was actually trying to be helpful. Although his way was unconventional and downright unnerving, he was trying to help.
Come to think of it, it was her who pulled him inside the stall and rammed her palm on his lips. Her mind wandered back to that fleeting moment when she actually contemplated kissing him. 'Goddamit! What's wrong with me?'
"Then what was he doing in the restroom with you?" Alcide's doubtful voice pulled her out of her musings.
"He was…" Sookie tried to think of the right words to explain what transpired in the powder room. Once again, she cursed Eric Northman for making her feel like a babbling idiot. "He came in to check on me," she finally said.
That was the truth. Or so she assumed.
"And nothing happened?" Alcide kept prodding.
Sookie was getting aggravated with Alcide's badgering. They weren't a couple. She didn't owe him any explanation. It wasn't like she cheated on him with Eric Northman.
With her eyebrows drawn she returned Alcide's reproachful glare with an icy stare. "Nothing happened. He's messing with your head, that's what he does. He messes with people's heads and you're an idiot for letting him."
Alcide was taken aback by Sookie's bluntness. He took a moment to collect himself before he spoke again. This time he was no longer reproving. "I'm sorry, Sook. But you can't blame me for thinking the worst. One look at that guy and you can tell he's trouble. I just don't want you to get tangled with someone like him. You're way too -" he stopped to find the right word to describe she was to him. "- special to be with someone as corrupt as him."
Although Sookie could understand Alcide's trepidation, she was not as innocent as he deemed her to be. She had worked in Bon Temps' most popular watering hole, where the locals could get frisky and rowdy after their third bottle of beer. Surely she could handle herself against the likes of Eric Northman or Marco Alfonso. And she was offended that he would think otherwise.
She let the uncomfortable silence hang in the air on for a few more seconds.
"Let's just forget this ever happened, 'kay? Can you just be a pal and trust me?" Sookie asked beseechingly.
She liked Alcide and she didn't want their friendship to be tainted by an incident like this. He still looked annoyed but she could also sense that he was trying to be sensible. It was a good start. She beamed at him before she gripped his wrist and propelled him out of the corridor and into the dining hall.
"C'mon, I smell steak. I'm so hungry, I can eat a whole cow!"
Alcide, who was still ticked off, decided to let her lead him. He only wanted to spend time with her and he decided not to let any arrogant prick ruin his chances with her.
E/S
Eric saw her emerge from behind the stage and he couldn't hide the scowl that formed in his face as he watched her drag the fur ball with her.
Their second course was already served when he came back to the table. There were two choices for the main course: a sous-vide Kobe wagyu with pepper sauce or an olive oil poached sea bass. Pam and Sophie-Anne picked the fish course while Pam ordered the steak for Eric and Stan.
Eric barely touched his food, no matter how delectable it looked. He didn't have the appetite for it anymore. After a considerable length of time, their plates were gathered and replaced with the dessert plates: a toss-up between pistachio soufflé and chocolate fondant with raspberry coulis and banana gelato.
The image of the gelato pulled Eric out of his sullen mood. He stole a glance at her direction and regretted it instantly when he saw her having a lively conversation with Alcide. As if to rub to salt on the wound, Alcide caught him looking and flashed him a haughty smirk before he draped his arm on Sookie's headrest.
'Oh, so you want to dance, asshole? Let's dance.'
He took the napkin off his lap as he geared up to stand from his chair but was stymied when Tara went up the podium again and clinked her glass with a knife to get everyone's attention. In keeping with the restaurant tradition she introduced the chefs responsible for the remarkable dinner they just had.
Selah Pumphrey, who changed from her chef's whites to a stylish black evening wear sauntered toward the stage followed by Marco Alfonso, who also suited up for the night.
Selah's high-pitched voice sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard to Eric. He was reminded of her derogatory remarks about her earlier. He would make that wench pay for it, he thought, as he had filed it away for later. He had more pressing matters to deal with right now.
The executive chef thanked the guests for coming and Eric Northman for hosting the event. Marco Alfonso followed her example, but because the Michelin-starred chef was not keen on making speeches, he only muttered a few Italian jokes before he went straight to Eric's table.
"That went better than I expected," Marco said as he pulled a chair beside Eric.
"The meal was lovely, Marco. I should have known you were the one behind them," Sophie-Anne showered the celebrity chef praises.
"Will you be in charge of this kitchen, Marco?" asked Stan, who was calling a sommelier to refill his glass.
Marco shrugged after he took a swig of his whiskey. "No. I'm only here until tomorrow. Or until my boss wants me. What do you say boss, can I stay here for another week?" he goaded Eric.
Eric glowered at Marco before he muttered a gruff, "no."
Marco was caught off guard by Eric's foul mood. Then he caught the Viking cast a sidelong glance across the room. He followed Eric's line of vision and quickly deciphered the reason behind his gloomy behavior. He tipped his head toward Eric before he spoke in a voice so low he was sure only the Viking would be able to hear him.
"You have to admit, she knows how to pick them, no?" Marco teased. "Do you know who the punk is?"
"A fucking sneeze," Eric grumbled. Marco let out a gusty laugh at Eric's reply.
"Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be proven mortal, Viking," Marco commented.
Eric gritted his teeth as he threw an irritated look at his Italian friend. Marco, however, did not waver with his teasing. But after a few more jabs he decided to stop his heckling as he asked Pam to dance with him.
E/S
Sookie was getting restless. She could feel someone was watching her and she didn't need to look around to distinguish who it was.
She was trying her hardest to keep up with the conversation at her table but her mind kept drifting to a certain tall and blonde man across the room. Holly and Jessica were making her predicament even worse because they couldn't seem to stop talking about him.
"What do you think will be the first order of business tomorrow?" Holly asked. She would be working the lunch shift tomorrow along with Terry and they both shared a certain degree of panic after Tara had dropped the bomb on them.
"Maybe, he'll make all the girls wear short shorts and halter tops, while the men will be asked to wear Viking hats and fur," Jessica said a bit too perkily for Sookie's taste. Jessica was not as worried as Holly and Terry. The first time Eric Northman walked in the restaurant he left her a huge tip. That at least counted for something in Jessica's books.
Alcide looked expectantly at Sookie, waiting for her to put in her two cents. But Sookie kept mum. She would only join in the discussion when the topic wasn't Eric Northman. She had been like that since she came back from the powder room. She would giggle and coo every now and then but Alcide knew her long enough to tell when she was faking her zeal.
"That means he's also the one who gave us all the phones!" Holly blurted out.
'Shit! The phones! What the hell am I gonna do with that?' Sookie thought. She already had an inkling that something was not right with those gifts. But now that she had learned Eric Northman was her new boss, there was no doubt in her mind that the gift came with a favor. Or at least a condition.
She would not keep it. She would not be indebted to him. She started considering giving it back to him, but what would she look like to her coworkers if they found out? That she had too much pride to accept a gift and they had none for keeping it?
No. She could not give it back to him. She knew he wouldn't take it back anyway and that he would only make a big ruckus out of it to her coworkers.
Her pondering was interrupted when Alcide hooked his arm behind her. She looked conspicuously at him. It wasn't like Alcide to act so aggressively.
"Mr. Fantastic's looking at you," Alcide whispered as if to answer Sookie's silent question. He made sure Eric Northman was staring at them when he tilted his head toward her, his face barely an inch from Sookie's cheek.
Sookie was still furious at the Viking. She had made it crystal clear that she didn't want anyone to find out that they had spent half an hour inside the ladies' restroom together.
But did he listen? Of course not. When she was asking him to stay hidden what he actually heard was: go out and make Alcide think we had sex inside.
She downed her glass of red wine in one gulp. She asked Terry for a refill and emptied the glass again before anyone could even take a sip from theirs. When she had summoned enough courage, she looked up from her table and returned his intense gaze.
'Two can play at this game, Mr. Northman,' she thought with resolve. Even from a distance, she was able to detect the slight quirk of his eyebrow when she engaged him in a staring contest.
She had mastered the staring match when she was only fourteen. She couldn't count how many opponents she had stared down at the poker table. She never lost a match. Never. She took pleasure watching her rivals squirm and falter under her ice-cold stare.
Eric Northman would not be an exception. He would be her Everest.
Mount Everest, indeed. Because Eric Northman, aside from his initial reaction, managed to hold her gaze with a passion that could rival hers.
'I will not let you win, you sonofabitch! You made me look like a slut in front of Alcide. You will not get away with it unscathed!' she thought with so much vehemence.
Alas, Alcide got in her way as he gripped her shoulder and forced her to look away.
'Dog burn it!'
"What?!" she snapped at Alcide.
"What are you doing?" he hissed. "You said so yourself, he's trying to mess with us. Why are you still entertaining his theatrics?"
Sookie felt like she was doused with cold water. Alcide was right. 'A bully only wins if you let him.' She wouldn't fight fire with fire. She would fight with cold indifference.
She grabbed her glass that was filled anew and knocked back its contents. "Dance with me," she asked Alcide beside her.
She was too edgy to stay still and she needed a diversion from Eric Northman. Besides, Matt Goss had already taken his post by the grand piano.
An excited grin broke across Alcide's face before he stood up from his chair and offered his hand to Sookie.
E/S
Eric had tuned out everybody in the room the minute she locked eyes with him.
Sophie-Anne and Stan continued making small talk as though nothing bad had occurred between them only two days ago. Pam and Marco waltzed their way to Eric's side but he shooed them away with a wave of his hand.
If looks could kill, he was sure his face would be slammed on the table right now with the coroner trying to figure out the cause of his death. Death by attention overdose would be the right conclusion, he thought. And Eric Northman was loving every fucking second of it.
'Come on, Miss Stackhouse. You can do better than that,' he thought in amusement. He was certain she was trying to send her hatred for him through her murderous stare, but he couldn't care less. An angry Sookie was better than no Sookie.
Then Alcide Herveaux, who was already on wafer thin ice with the Viking, intruded yet again. Eric almost slammed his fist on the table when the fucking hair ball interrupted their private moment.
He felt his stomach churn in revulsion when he saw her and her scumbag of a date traipsed toward the dance floor. Eric swore a vein popped in his head as he watched the furry ass took her hands and placed them on his monstrous shoulder.
Then as if those weren't enough to exacerbate Eric, Matt Goss's voice filled the room as he started singing his rendition of Nat King Cole's L-O-V-E song.
Eric's hands balled into fists as he followed her movements.
He was hypnotized by her lithe body as it swayed enchantingly to the music. Then his face crumbled into a grimace when he saw her rest her head on the scruffy hulk's chest. He immediately averted his eyes from the dance floor. It was like watching someone giving birth. Unexplainably torturous.
Eric had no idea if she were tormenting him on purpose. If she were, she was doing a sensational job. With gritted teeth and wounded pride, he turned his attention to two of the most boring and irritating people in the world: Stan and Sophie-Anne.
He feigned enthusiasm as he tried to block her out. He would bob his head in agreement once in a while to make it seem like he was listening keenly to whatever fuck Mr. and Ms. Snore were talking about.
It was hard to look unaffected when all he wanted to do was choke Matt Goss with his bare hands. 'Why couldn't he just shut up?'
Then as if someone up above was listening to his prayers, the song finally ended. He called the sommelier and asked for a glass of scotch before he turned toward the floor again.
But to his disheartenment, the couple wasn't done parading their closeness in front of him.
'What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm Eric Northman! I fucking own this place! I shouldn't suffer like this!' Eric thought as he raked his brain for an excuse to tear the couple apart without looking like an immature jerk.
Fortunately, he was blessed with good and clever friends. He was so consumed with his irrational rage that he barely noticed Pam and Marco making their way toward her and her wolfish date until the four of them were huddled together.
His brilliant allies managed to yank the duo apart as Marco took her, while Pam grabbed the Yeti. He couldn't help the slow, gratifying smile that crept on his face as he watched Alcide, the scumbag, reluctantly let go of her.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to let Marco stay for another week, Eric mused. And Pam, his quick-thinking sidekick, could use another pair of Manolo's. The very fact that Eric knew what Manolo's were made him cringe for his vanity. She would surely snort in derision at him if she found out how many shoe brands he could name in under a minute.
Eric was already content just watching her from across the room, as long as she wasn't cozying up with her plus one.
However, Marco was feeling extra generous tonight. Eric reclined back in his chair, tracing his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, when he caught Marco's subtle signal.
He could barely contain his exhilaration as he plastered his most devilish smile on his face before before he stretched his arm out to Sophie-Anne. "Care for a dance, milady?"
Sophie-Anne Leclerq hated Eric Northman's guts as much he loathed hers, but they still knew how to keep up appearances when they were among their peers. Sophie-Anne picked the napkin off her lap and threw it pell mell at the table before she took Eric's hand.
Sophie-Anne was only five-foot-six but with her five-inch heels, she managed to reach Eric's shoulder as they gracefully swayed to the tune of Matt Goss's 2009 hit song Evil, which was a fitting depiction of Sophie-Anne and Eric's relationship.
E/S
"Is this a hobby of yours, chef, or just a favor to the Godfather?" Sookie asked with an air of nonchalance that it muddled Marco's brain for a little while.
"Huh?" Marco Alfonso asked eyebrows furrowed as he took a step back to gape at her. They were in the middle of the dance floor, away from the harsh eyes of the seated guests.
"You know exactly what I mean, chef. You, playing us all like a bunch of buffoons. Watching us jump in panic or huddle in fear like your very own dancing monkeys. Tell me, chef, did we at least provide you and Mr. Northman your money's worth of entertainment?" Sookie said with an acerbic smile dancing on her lips.
Marco stopped momentarily in his tracks as he studied Sookie closely. Her accusations were blunt but her features were calm and innocent. 'Oh, what a cunning girl you are,' he thought.
He tugged her closer to him as they resumed with their slow groove. He let out a crackling chuckle before he pressed his cheek to her hair. "Were we at the same kitchen, Sookie? Because from my point of view, you were the one who almost made me shit in my pants with your big-ass knife."
Sookie kept silent as her face remained serene. She had already made her point. That it was a pretty Machiavellian thing he and and Eric Northman pulled on the staff of Fiordilatte. She had chastised herself relentlessly because she let that kind of scheming slip out of her radar. She had been too complacent that it did not even enter her mind that Marco Alfonso could be working for Eric Northman. 'Who the hell wasn't?'
It seemed everywhere she went, there he was, always two steps ahead of her. And she was sick of his games. His manipulation. Not for the first time this night that she had contemplated leaving Las Vegas for good.
Maybe she could still work on her father's case even though she was miles away from Nevada. She was already crunching the numbers in her head - ticket fare, the first month's rent (she would have to give Tara the one-month advance she shelled out for Sookie when she hired her because Sookie would be terminating her contract prematurely) and a little extra cash she would need to keep afloat while she looked for another job. She was sure Lafayette had already found her replacement.
Her computation halted when Marco dipped her head as part of his elaborate dance step. He stared at her long and hard before he pulled her back up. She let him drag her to the corner as he sashayed with her. "How can someone be so smart and yet so dense?" he asked in a low murmur.
'Great! More insults,' she thought with sarcasm.
"What? No more flowery words, chef? You ran out of sunshine metaphors?" Sookie retorted as she tried to keep up with his impressive foot work.
Marco shook his head in frustration before he smirked wryly. "Sookie, Sookie, Sookie. Are you just playing dumb or you're really that daft? Can't you see what Eric is doing here? I bet even a blind man will be able to tell that the Viking had it bad for you, mia bella."
Sookie scoffed before she lifted an eyebrow at the Italian chef. "That's rich, chef. A real classic," she deadpanned. She knew what Marco Alfonso was trying to do. He wanted to get a rise on her by diverting her anger into passion. And she would be a fool to fall for it. "Don't you think that's a bit low, chef? Eric Northman? C'mon! Can't you come up with something more plausible?"
"I guess now it's my turn to ask you to drop the act, Sookie. Can you honestly tell me you don't feel it?" Marco asked condescendingly. "Why do you think Eric bought this shithole? For its authentic taste of Italia? Please. This place is as Italian as Panda Express! Your head chef still boils the potatoes for her gnocchi, for fuck's sake!" Marco closed his eyes as he shuddered as though he was recalling an atrocious memory.
Sookie remained apprehensive and still positively vexed at Eric Northman. But something from Marco's statement was gnawing at her. And it was making her uneasy.
As though sensing her skepticism, Marco kept on with his pimping. "Do you know why I love my fucking stars so much, Sookie?"
Sookie didn't utter a reply but she kept her focus at him, urging him to continue.
"Because it reminds me of who I was ten years ago," he said. "I was a nobody, Sookie. Nothing but an irrelevant speck. We weren't well-off so I had no means to send myself to culinary school. I worked as a busboy in a small cafeteria in Florence. That's where I met my first wife, she was the cashier."
'Is he for real? We're not even friends and he's telling me his life story? Am I giving off a vibe that I actually care?' Sookie thought in bewilderment. But she let him continue anyway. At least now, he wasn't pushing the preposterous notion that Eric Northman liked her.
"Seven years later, I was still as broke as a joke that my wife couldn't take the taste of stale bread anymore. She had the proverbial itch and I had no means to scratch it. So she left me. I left Florence and I got a job in a hotel in Paris. Still a busboy, but at least the avenue was a lot wider. I finally caught a break when I met a cheeky young man who introduced me to the owner of Café du Nord where I worked for free as an apprentice. Ten years later, Marco Alfonso was born! My long beard became a James Beard award," he said, brimming with pride with a touch of melancholia.
Sookie did not see that one coming. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to discern that the young cheeky man in Marco's story was none other than Eric Northman.
It stunk of conspiracy. First, Sam Merlotte and now Marco Alfonso, she wondered who would be next in line to tell her another fairy tale on how Eric Northman bettered their lives.
"Well, what are we waiting for, chef? Let's call Oprah. Or better yet let's call Stockholm because we have a Nobel Peace Prize winner here," Sookie said dryly.
Marco let out a sound that was between a huff and a snort. "Eric wasn't exaggerating when he told me you were snarky."
"We all have our thing, chef. You've got your stars, I've got my snark. We all have to have shields to protect ourselves from people who are so full of it."
Marco Alfonso, in a swift maneuver, twirled Sookie around so she could see the other side of the floor.
There, right beside the podium, was Eric Northman, who as dancing stiffly, with a redhead's arms languidly wrapped around his neck.
That was the first time she had a good look at his partner. She was the same woman she saw him with at the Luxor the other day.
As Sookie stared at the pair, she didn't expect the sharp lash of pain that shot up from her gut all the way to her throat. She suddenly felt lightheaded and her legs almost buckled under her weight.
She pinched her eyes shut before she pivoted to face Marco. She gripped his hand as she hung onto him to keep herself steady.
"Didn't I tell you, chef? He wasn't interested in me. It might be true that he bought this place because of me. But it wasn't out of infatuation. He did it to spite me. He was holding a grudge because I tried to mess with him," she muttered with a raspy voice.
Marco glided her toward the stage, a few feet away from Eric and his gorgeous partner. He managed to whisk her around so she would face the lovely couple again. Sookie gritted her teeth in infuriation.
"Eric told me you're a great poker player. Means you're also good at reading a bluff," Marco said in a whisper. "Take a look at them, Sookie. Tell me, do they look like they're having a fucking good time?"
Sookie, against her better judgment, stole a glance at the Viking and the redhead. She flinched when she saw Eric looking straight at her. With all the strength she had, she shoved Marco and reverted position with him.
"I wanna go back to my seat now, please," she murmured in resignation.
"Not yet, mia bella. You still owe him a dance."
Marco didn't give Sookie a chance to react and bolt as he propelled her toward the Viking.
"Eric, do you mind if we switch partners. I've been dying to dance with Sophie-Anne all night," Marco purred.
Eric threw Marco a look that could be interpreted as both impatient and relieved as he took Sookie by the hand and led her away from Sophie-Anne's dubious glare.
Sookie was fuming. She was being manhandled by Marco Alfonso and Eric Northman again. And she was rendered powerless to do anything about it. She had enough sense to will her temper down. She would be treated like a pariah if she were to make a scene in front of all his snooty guests.
Her eyes darted around the floor as she searched for Alcide. She was not that obstinate to admit that she needed help.
But to her dismay, her knight was nowhere to be found. She scoured the room for any sign of Alcide or Pam, the last person she saw him with. She found Pam lounging by the bar but Alcide wasn't anywhere near her.
"Who are you looking for?" Eric asked, drawing her focus back to him.
Sookie glared at the Viking but decided to bite back the nasty words that were threatening to spill out of her mouth. Eric Northman might be able to force her to dance with him but he couldn't coerce her talk. Not after the stunt he pulled at the restroom earlier.
Eric took a deep breath as he pulled her closer to him. It took a vast amount of effort not to sigh at the feel of her soft flesh against his suit. He cursed the intrusive fabric that separated him from feeling the warmth of her skin. The thin cloth of his suit might as well be the Berlin Wall from the way it hindered him from her.
He wanted to bury his nose in her hair. With their height difference his chin barely grazed the top of her head. He didn't like short women. His usual conquests must be tall enough so he wouldn't have to droop to kiss her. She, however, was the exception to that rule. He would gladly hunch his back all night for her.
He clenched his jaw as he felt her stiffen under his ministrations. He knew he was already treading on eggshells with her. And rightfully so. What he did was infantile. But he just couldn't help himself. The second he heard her yell out Alcide's name, something inside him snapped. It was like everything that had materialized between them inside the stall was wiped clean by the emergence of that asshole.
It wasn't like him to do things on a whim, though. He was a man with a plan. He was calculating, systematic and guarded. But there was something about her that made him act so uncharacteristically irrational and callous. And it was driving him crazy.
He knew if he wanted her to warm up to him, he needed to straighten up his act. And fast.
Matt Goss managed to redeem himself when he started serenading them with his take of Cass Elliot's Dream A Little Dream Of Me. To Eric's delight, the crooner's enchanting voice seemed to weave its magic into her as he felt Sookie relax slightly under his grasp. He took it as an opening as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.
This would be his moment. Eric swallowed thickly before he spoke with as much gentleness as he could muster amid the loud thumping inside his chest. "I'm sorry about earlier."
For a second there, he thought she didn't hear him. But after a few charged moments, she looked up. "I quit," she said softly. It was so soft that it took Eric a few seconds for her words to sink in. Before he could utter a word of protest she spoke again. "I can't keep this up, Mr. Northman. I can't keep on hating you. My gran died of a heart disease. And the doctor said it was hereditary. For all I know, I have it too. I'm from the South so eating meat is like a religion to us. And all this loathing could be the death of me. So, I quit, Mr. Northman. You win. It seems Vegas is too small for the two us. This hate-hate relationship we have, it's just too much."
Eric's eyes lost focus as he stared at her. 'No! You can't do this! You can't leave me!'
"I never hated you," he choked out haltingly. His voice was betraying him. 'No, no, no!'
As if the universe was conspiring against him, the song ended and Alcide instantly emerged at their side.
"Sook?" Alcide asked as he placed his hand on her shoulder.
Sookie flashed Eric a ghost of a smile. It wasn't a victor's smile. Quite the opposite, actually. She looked desolate. Defeated. She turned her back to Eric and started dragging her feet as she and Alcide made their way back to their table.
Eric stood like a statue for a good minute, until mercifully, Pam came up beside him. "The pyrotechnic show is about to begin. You should make your parting speech before we ushered the guests outside."
'Fireworks!' Eric thought in panic. He was still reeling from her quasi rejection. However, the idea of fireworks snapped him back to the present. It completely slipped his mind to order Pam to cancel the fireworks display after he learned that she despised them, for reasons he didn't know - yet.
He frantically searched the room for her. It was too late to call it off now and the least he could do was warn her. He sprinted toward the employees' table and swore under his breath when he couldn't find her or Alcide, for that matter.
He knew he couldn't go asking the staff of her whereabouts without looking suspicious. So he went back to his table and ordered Marco and Pam to do it for him before he made the announcement.
E/S
"I was looking for you," Sookie told Alcide as the latter steered her toward the hallway leading to the restrooms.
"Tray called me," Alcide replied as he slipped his mobile phone inside his jacket pocket. "They had trouble down at Fremont and they need me to bail them out."
Sookie was quickly in full go-mode. Fear and anxiety evident on her face. "What happened to them? Is Jason okay? Where are they?" she asked in frenzy.
Alcide suddenly looked uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed as he dropped his gaze on the floor. He tucked his hands in his pocket as he tried to come up with the right words to describe his friends' unusual predicament to Sookie.
"Hey, Alcide!" Sookie snapped her fingers together at his face. "Answer me! What's the emergency? Did something happen to Jason?"
"No, cher. Don't worry yourself. It's… kind of a guy thing," Alcide said timidly. "Calvin was caught -"
Sookie waited impatiently for Alcide to continue as she stared at him with piercing eyes.
Alcide ran his fingers through his thick black hair nervously.
"Dammit! Alcide, cowboy up and just say it!"
Alcide swallowed air before he spoke. "Calvin was caught getting blown by a hooker behind a strip club. The manager of the joint caught him and demanded he spring up for the whole night. The bouncer was ripping them off and Jason asked if I could loan them an advance so they could cough up the cash."
'Sonofamother! Those horny bastards!'
"I'll come with you. I can give Jason the cash, you don't need to loan him any," Sookie said before she started marching back to their table.
Alcide grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Hold up, Sook! Jason isn't the one who needs the cash, so you don't need to come. Really."
"It doesn't matter! He's part of it and I can't let him get in trouble," Sookie argued.
"Cher, the thing is… the guys don't want me to tell you what happened. Jason made me swear that I won't tell you. And those guys will not think twice tearing me limb by limb if they find out I told anybody of their - you know."
Sookie understood. She wasn't really keen on going to a strip club - and to fetch her brother, nonetheless. That would only result to a level of awkwardness she wasn't certain she was equipped for. She glanced at Alcide and noticed that he was still discomfited by the sheer absurdity of the situation.
"Are you sure you're not just ditching me to join those horn dogs?" Sookie said with mock indignation.
"Hell, no!" he quickly retorted. "I was actually going to ask you if I can bring you back to your apartment now. And if I can go back there to resume our talk after I deal with those jerkwads." He started scratching his scruffy beard as he waited fretfully for her response.
But Sookie didn't want to leave yet. Now that she had virtually resigned, she wanted to bid her friends goodbye properly. She didn't know what kind of bull Eric Northman would come up with to explain her quitting and she wanted Holly, Terry and Jessica, at least, to hear her reason firsthand. She would have to lie to them, of course. But at least she could bid them farewell in the process.
She had considered telling Alcide her decision. She knew he would understand. He might even offer to help her move back to Bon Temps. But she didn't want Jason to find out about it from Alcide.
She shrugged. "I think I'm gonna stay for a little while. I haven't had the chance to really hang out with the girls. Besides it's your last night, you should spend it with the boys. Go and drink beer and ogle at women!" She giggled when she saw Alcide wince at her last words. "Seriously, Alcide. I'll be fine. I'll catch a ride with Holly or Terry. They brought their cars with them and my flat's along their way. Stop worrying and just go." She pushed him toward the dining hall.
Alcide hesitated. "But what about your jackass boss?"
"He won't bother me anymore," Sookie said with vehemence. She had to push back the grim feeling at the pit of her stomach. "Trust me, okay? I'll see you guys tomorrow before you leave. And, oh, tell Calvin I'm sorry his night sucked." She grinned at Alcide before she raised her hands up as a sign of surrender before she made a zipping gesture with her lips.
Alcide, who kept glancing back at her after every few steps, disappeared at the narrow corridor.
It was probably for the best that Alcide wouldn't be with her when she divulged her news to her coworkers. He might assume the worst and start a brawl with Eric Northman.
'Yeah, right. Like you're so freaking gorgeous that two attractive men would fight over you,' she chided herself inwardly.
Hold on, did she just think of Eric Northman as attractive?
Hell, who was she kidding? Eric Northman was a fine piece of specimen. She even thought when heaven started raining refined physical attributes Eric Northman was smack in the middle of a meadow with a hundred buckets in tow so he wouldn't miss a single drop.
She wasn't a hypocrite either. She was aware of Eric Northman's effect on women. She had experienced them twice herself. First was during their initial meeting at the North and the second was more than an hour ago at the powder room cubicle. She was only human, after all. And although she had no experience with men before, it didn't mean she was frigid. But it didn't mean she would entertain such a ridiculous idea that he liked her, according to Marco Alfonso's deduction. She had watched people kowtow to him like he was a patron saint. Some wanted to touch him while some were contented just to be in the same room with him. Well, she wasn't like them. 'No. Nope. Never.'
With a sigh she left the corridor to look for Holly. She wanted to talk to her first, since they had been closer.
Matt Goss's stellar performance was done. He was now substituted by the regular pianist, who had been holding the fort while dinner service was on-going.
On her way back to the table, Sookie noticed Pam as the leggy blonde made her way to the stage.
"Ladies and gents, on behalf of us all from Fiordilatte, we would like to thank you for coming and for sharing with us this momentous evening. That said, it won't be the fourth of July if we don't end this night with a bang, am I right?" Pam paused as the guests cheered unanimously. "Please enjoy the presentation we have prepared outside. Thank you and good night."
The guests piled up in an orderly fashion - leave it to the rich to queue with such elegance and flair. The staff trailed behind them. Sookie saw Holly and Terry made their way out, eager to watch the vortex of light and sounds in the sky.
The room was almost empty when Sookie started to feel the dread and anxiety sink in. Her mind was in a chaotic mode that she couldn't decide where to go.
'Oh, god, no!' She turned her heels around as she started to make her way back to the powder room. She could hide in one of the stalls until the fireworks display was over. She didn't notice she was gasping for breath as she quickened her pace.
She was in the middle of the corridor when two strong arms grabbed her and swept her off her feet. She shrieked as she flailed her arms. It was then that she recognized the man who had seized her.
It was Eric Northman.
With his long legs that moved so rapidly they were inside the kitchen before she could utter a single word of protest. There were two porters, who were among the cavalry he had sent, that were busy washing the dishes. They jolted when they saw that Eric entered the kitchen.
Eric put Sookie down on her feet. She straightened her dress as she tried to avoid the perplexed looks from the kitchen staff. The Viking turned his attention to the porters.
"Don't you want to watch outside?" Eric asked them. Without missing a beat, the dishwashers let go of the movable taps, dried their soapy hands on their aprons and made themselves scarce in a jiffy.
"You really have no sense of boundaries, do you?" Sookie snarled at the Viking as soon as they were alone in the kitchen.
Eric ignored her as he clamped his hand on her wrist like a vice before he pulled her inside Tara and JV's former office, which was technically his office now. Once inside he pushed her down the swivel chair behind the desk before he made his way to the windows overlooking the kitchen and the employees' parking lot. He pulled the cord of the venetian blinds that were draped over the windows to shut it close.
Eric was moving so fast that Sookie thought he had lost his mind. Then as he was closing the last window, a thought struck her and she was suddenly blanketed with terror. 'Oh god! He's gonna force himself on me!'
She stood up from her chair as she tried to think of the best way to make her exit without agitating him further. There was no way she could overpower him nor outrun him. So she decided she would go for the sneak attack. She would try to slip out quietly without his notice and if he tried to block her she would kick him in the groin. Jason taught her the groin maneuver and she knew how to execute it flawlessly. Her brother and some inebriated men in Bon Temps could attest to that.
But just as she was going around the desk, Eric Northman made his way toward the door. He paused to look at her as he reached for the knob. "Stay here. The display will last for about fifteen minutes." He glanced at his wristwatch to check the time. 11.22pm. Pyrotechnics display was cued to go off at 11.30 on the dot. "You'll be safe enough here. I'll be outside if you need me. Do you need water? Wine?"
Sookie was rendered mute. She could not believe what was happening. Eric Northman was letting her use his office as refuge. She could only shake her head no in response to his offer of refreshments. With a terse nod, Eric left the room and closed the door behind him.
Sookie slumped back to the chair as she tried to come to grips with what had just happened. After a few minutes, the unmistakable crackling and whistling of firecrackers sounded. She closed her eyes as she rammed her palms on her ears. The sounds were now muffled and there was only darkness around her.
But it didn't matter.
The memories still came and it flooded her like images from a slide projector. She could see her father, wearing his sky blue plaid shirt that got wrinkled with dried tears, as he waved goodbye to her before he folded himself inside the cab the day he left with Mac Rattray.
Followed by the distraught face of her brother, who was as white as a sheet, as he rushed to the Fortenberry's bearing bad news.
And lastly, the image of her gran as she waited for her and Jason at the porch, tear-stricken with arms wide open, ready to comfort them, pushing aside her own grief over losing her son.
They said memories could be triggered by sound, smell or sight. Theirs were set off by all three.
The crackling sound the fireworks made. The smell of sulphur in the air, and the vivid colors and shapes they formed when they hit the sky. They were all repulsive for Sookie and Jason because those three mixed together created the perfect symphony that reminded them of their tragic day. The day they lost him.
True to his words, Eric Northman stayed outside the door as he stood guard for her. He didn't know why she hated those damn pyro shows so much but if it mattered that much to her then he would do his damn best to keep her from them.
He could hear her soft whimpers and muffled sniffs. He knew she was too proud to show her weakness, especially to him. So he tried not to eavesdrop. He went to the main counter where different kinds of wines were gathered. He picked a 1980 merlot and poured her a glass full. He thought she would need it once the show was over. He went back to his post beside the door and he could still hear her soft cries. He involuntarily cringed from the sound. It felt like someone was making small slashes on his chest.
After a few more minutes, the fireworks display had ceased. He knew that in any minute, the porters would barge inside the kitchen to finish the clean up. He whipped out his phone and dialed Pam's number. "Buy me at least twenty more minutes before you let the staff inside the kitchen." He waited for her response before he muttered a silent "thanks," and shoved the phone back in his breast pocket.
Sookie must have heard Eric's orders because not a minute later she opened the door, eyes still puffed up from crying. She kept her head low as she slipped right past him and went inside the employees' quarters.
She washed her face clean of any traces of make-up, before she quickly changed back into her jeans and shirt. She didn't know what to make of Eric Northman's sudden shift but she was grateful, nonetheless.
She took a few deep breaths before she emerged out of the locker room. She was slinging her bag over her shoulders when she saw Eric lolling around by the counter, loosening his gray tie around his neck.
He directed his gaze at her as he picked up the glass of red wine from the counter. "Thought you might need this."
She did, actually. She was still on edge and she felt rude to decline him after what he did for her. With a little reluctance, she took the glass and guzzled a mouthful of the rouge wine.
"Thank you," she said as she put it back down at the counter, still half full.
"Are you going home?" Eric asked casually as he folded his tie neatly and placed it in his trousers' pocket.
Sookie bobbed her head in assent. She grabbed her knives' roll from her station before she started toward the back door. She would just go back tomorrow morning to talk to her friends. It was an exhausting day and all she wanted to do was go home and get some shut eye.
"Let me take you home," Eric offered coolly.
Sookie stared at him for a long time before she shook her head no. "Thanks for the offer, Mr. Northman. But I don't wanna impose."
"You're not imposing. I'm offering," he said as he swaggered toward her. "You're in no condition to commute and I don't see any of your friends anywhere."
Sookie was still baffled at his shift of character. Was it out of pity? Or was it one of his furtive tricks?
"Are those knives?" Eric asked, pulling her out of her musings. Sookie looked down at her bag before she nodded. "I assume you know how to use them?" She nodded again. She knew what he was getting at. "Pull one out and keep it in your hand. If you sense me doing anything suspicious, then feel free to stab me with it. I promise, I won't hold it against you. Although I have to remind you, I have a GPS chip in my head, you'll have to dump my body at least two states away from Nevada." His lips tugged into a crooked smile.
Sookie didn't know what came over her. But despite her internal battle, she acquiesced and let him lead her outside to his parked car.
The car ride was silent. Sookie gave Eric her address. She thought it didn't matter if he knew where she lived anyway. She would be out of that place soon. Unbeknownst to her, Eric already knew where she resided.
"Is it your father?" Eric broke the silence after what seemed like an eternity of hearing nothing but crickets.
Sookie kept her gaze outside the window. She was debating whether to tell him or just let him assume. She finally chose the former as she replied. "We didn't know when he really died. So we just commemorate his death every Fourth of July."
"By choice?"
Sookie glared at him. "We are not a bunch of nutjobs, Mr. Northman. We don't just close our eyes and point at a date on the calendar," she snapped.
She inhaled sharply before she continued. This time her voice was calmer, more detached. "Nevada police informed us of his demise during Independence Day ten years ago."
Eric became pensive as he filed that information for later processing.
Sookie huffed as she turned her gaze back to the window. "You must think I'm pathetic for pining over someone who has been dead for a decade," she scoffed.
Sookie yelped as she dropped the knife she was holding - yes, she did take one out for precaution - when Eric suddenly pulled up into a curb. He hit the brakes with so much force that if it weren't for her seatbelt keeping her in her place, she would have been thrown out of her seat.
Eric pulled the hand brake before he faced her, looking dead serious.
"I can think of a lot of words to describe you, Miss Stackhouse, but I assure you none of them is pathetic. Why are you so fixated on thinking the worst of me? Am I really so vile that we can't carry a decent conversation for more than ten minutes?"
Sookie gulped as she took note of the level of intensity of his stare. She should have listened to her gran: never hitch a ride with a stranger. Her gran forgot to include a small caveat: or if the person happened to be Eric Northman.
Sookie bit her lip as she fixed her eyes down at slightly shaking hands.
'Shit! Now, she's afraid of me! Fucking smooth, Viking!' Eric scolded himself as she studied her.
"I tend to resort to snark or self-deprecating humor when I'm nervous," she blurted. That was true. Those two were her go-to defense mechanisms. She swallowed again before she continued. "And you seem to bring out the worst in me."
Eric was taken aback by her honesty. She had never looked so fragile and innocuous before that very moment.
Eric leaned back on his seat and covered his face with his hands before he groaned loudly. 'You can still salvage this,' he tried to convince himself.
The silence dragged for a few more seconds before he turned to her again. "Can we just have a truce?" Eric asked.
Sookie stared at him as she searched his features for any deception. She found none.
She guessed it wouldn't hurt to have a ceasefire with Eric Northman. She might not see him again after tonight. It would be nice to end their relationship on a positive note.
After a considerable pause, she stretched out her hand to him and for a second, Eric thought she was mocking him. They might have reached a stalemate, but there was still lingering doubt between them.
Eric took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
"To celebrate our unusual bond, I have someone I think you'd be interested to see."
He unbuckled his seatbelt as he reached for her knife on the floor of the car. He gave it back to her with a wink. Sookie wanted to ask him what he meant but she had grown tired of his games. Whatever he meant would be revealed to her eventually.
They were back on the road and Eric was like a maniac behind the wheels. Sookie held on to her knife with one hand while she gripped the door handle at her side. In less than ten minutes or so, they were in a parking lot beside the airport. Eric took his cellphone out and made a call.
Few cryptic exchanges later they were driving inside a middle class village that had rows of uniformed bungalows. The car pulled to a slow stop at house number 1699.
Eric got out of the car and was beside Sookie's door in a flash.
"Where are we?" Sookie asked as she clutched her knife close to her chest and stared at Eric with her perpetually doubtful eyes.
"You'll find out soon enough," he said with calm confidence.
Sookie stepped out of the car and stood beside Eric as he rang the doorbell. A middle-aged woman dressed in leopard prints came strolling out of the door. She smiled sweetly at Eric while she scrutinized Sookie with her heavily lidded eyes. Without further ado, she let Eric and Sookie in.
It was obvious that the Viking was a frequent visitor of the place. He was greeted warmly and everyone was looking at him with veneration, as usual.
The Viking returned their salutations with brief but cordial nods as he kept his pace slower than usual so Sookie could keep up with him.
The lady in leopard print led Eric and Sookie down the basement which was password encrypted. Two men were beside the door as it slid open. They both glared at Sookie and her unusual choice of accessory but Eric waved them off.
Sookie was getting twitchy the deeper she went into the lair. She was sure it was a lair of some kind. But she thought if it were her time to bite the dust then she would go down with a fight.
Eric uttered something in Italian to a man who looked like the old man character in the Disney movie Up, Mr. Fredericksen - only less charismatic and more intimidating. Mr. Fredericksen gave Sookie a once over before he smirked and bobbed his head in agreement to whatever Eric Northman said.
Eric placed a hand on her back as he led her toward a room with a red light beside it. Like the one the photographers used when they were developing pictures the old-fashioned way. Eric swung the door open and went inside before he gave way for Sookie to enter.
Sookie lost her grip on her knife and it fell on the floor with a clanging sound. Her lips parted but no words came out as she stared at the man tied up in the middle of the room.
It was Mac Rattray.
A/N: I own no one.
It's longer than I wanted but I can't make myself break this chapter apart. I tried but I can't. Sorry. Hopefully, it's not too long for your liking. Dessert is coming up and it's going to be served with a Rat on top.
First of, I want to give a BIG shout out to the fabulous leivasquez who generously shared her precious talent and time into making a banner for Dead Man's Hand. You are a rock star! I love you to bits! Check out her awesome banner at leivasquez . wordpress . com
She also made banners for a number of fantastic fictions that capture our favorite Viking's damn sexiness. Oh, and Sookie, too, of course!
Secondly, to my wonderful beta SadieSwirl. Thank you! Until next time, I hope? Hee hee.
And, of course, to all my unbelievably inspiring and amazing readers, I love you all so much! Thank you!
Love, love, love, dearies!
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