Chapter 25: Ball and Chain
Eric knocked on room 204 at the Bat Wing Hotel in Baton Rouge at precisely 8 PM. The Bat Wing was one of the very few vampire hotels left standing after Katrina, and he was thankful for it. It was bad enough he had to day-travel via Anubis' coffin, he didn't trust human hotels to handle a simple carry-on luggage, let alone his life.
He was dressed in a fine charcoal Prada suit Pamela had custom ordered, but he had ditched the tie and unbuttoned the top 2 buttons of his collared shirt. Wearing a suit in summer was bad enough.
There was shuffling on the other side of the door. For a brief second, he expected Olivia to open the door as a last-minute surprise. The way her big brown eyes looked at him gave him the impression she was upset Eric had requested his lawyer to be his date for the evening. But maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Olivia couldn't have known what being his date tonight fully entailed. Whoever was the poor unfortunate soul that attended the event with him tonight was going to be scrutinized with a fine-tooth comb by the shittiest darkest corners of the media tomorrow. All in a pathetic attempt to make his speech replay on the TV a couple more times and perhaps gain the sympathies of bored housewives.
Eric knew better than to put Olivia in that position. If she didn't want to stand with him at their small and insignificant local press conference, then this was definitely something she wouldn't want. The real reason why she didn't want to be publicly associated with him, he didn't allow himself to speculate. He wasn't a masochist.
Still, part of him was disappointed when Portia Bellefleur answered the door. She was wearing a halter purple sequin gown with silver straps, and her hair was up in an intricate hair-do. It was very… Southern. She would do fine for the evening.
Portia looked up at him, blushing like a debutante at the ball. "Good evening, Mr. Northman, I'm-"
"I know who you are." This was going to be a very, very long night."Here, I got you something."
Eric pulled a small box containing a Candytuft flower corsage. He didn't even know if people did this anymore, but he decided to err on the side of politeness. She gave him a shy smile at the gesture and lifted her arm. He gently slid the corsage over her left wrist and he could feel her shiver at his touch. He had that effect on women.
The vampire gracefully offered his forearm and she apprehensively took it. The two headed down to the hotel lobby where their car was waiting.
Eric had pulled out a vintage Porsche from storage since he gave away his beloved Corvette to Olivia. Portia let out a small squeal when she realized what car she was driving into the Gala. Give the woman a BMW and suddenly her taste changes. He opened the door for her and helped her inside before getting into the car himself. They drove in silence, with Portia fidgeting with her clutch the entire time.
Once at the party, Eric headed straight to the mezzanine where he would be hopefully left alone until it was an appropriate time to leave. Portia seemed to be relieved to be away from prying eyes. From up there he could watch it all. He recognized some human faces, as the guest list was obvious. The Shreveport Mayor and Chief of Police were both here in support of Truman Burrell. Portia tried to make boring small talk as she awkwardly hovered beside him like his shadow.
"So… You're a vampire."
"Mmm-hm." He was bored already.
"How old were you when… You know-"
"Turned?" Eric asked and Portia nodded. The real answer was that he didn't really know. The passing of time wasn't an exact science back then. "Thirty-two," -ish.
"And how old are you now?"
"Old." He hoped to stall the conversation, but the lawyer was unfortunately insistent.
"I've heard a lot about Fangtasia."
Oh for fuck's sake. "Have you?"
"I've never been, though," she said awkwardly.
"Do you want to?" He wasn't sure what she was getting at.
"No! I mean… I'm not much of a bar person. Too loud."
This woman was a human version of a headache. "Portia, this is going to be very tedious if you remain this dim. You really don't have to say anything. I'm immortal, I'm fine with silence."
The lawyer pouted embarrassed, then returned her focus to a champagne flute she got from a passing waitress. The band started playing more upbeat jazz tunes as the guests got progressively drunker. Then, suddenly and without a warning, someone caught his eye in the crowd down below, walking gracefully between the guests. It was his white swan.
She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Even with hundreds of people on the ballroom floor, Olivia stood out amongst them like an emerald crown jewel. The fantasy quicker turned into a nightmare once he spotted who accompanied her. Special agent and werewolf, Alcide Hervaux. He felt his fangs ache in his mouth. Eric watched the couple head to the romantic garden outside, and he felt the sudden urge to kill something.
He squeezed the marble railing of the mezzanine wanting to feel it crack under his fingers. What the actual FUCK was she doing here, and most importantly why was she with him?
"Come," Eric ordered Portia, who looked stunned at the sudden request.
When she didn't move, he glared at her. God, she was fucking slow. Portia finally took his arm and the two made their way down to the ballroom floor.
"Are we going to dance?" Portia asked, half terrified as they approached the group of couples dancing to the band's music.
Was she for real? He'd rather die again than dance in front of these people.
"God, no."
She seemed relieved at this. When they made their way outside, Eric scanned the beautiful garden, lit all the way through with warm white Christmas mini-lights at every bush, tree and garden railing. It lit the grounds like a thousand stars. There were significantly fewer people out here, but there were no signs of Alcide and Olivia anywhere. His mind started playing tricks on him by making him imagine them kissing by the sparkling Mississippi River. The thought stirred dark and evil things in him. His filthy paws touching her. His slobbering mouth kissing her. Eric felt like he was running in a dream, no matter how fast he moved his legs, it was as if his body was running in water.
She had told him Alcide had taken her on a date. Eric genuinely thought Olivia was lying, she was just trying to cover up the fact the agent was attempting to strike a deal. She was just too proud to admit she would never betray him.
Olivia had asked Eric to fucking earn her and he had done fucking nothing. He let himself be intimidated by her veracity. He told himself she was just a little brat trying to get a rise out of him, and she didn't mean what she was really saying. It was all lies he had told himself so he didn't actually have to do anything. Risk anything. Feel anything.
The thought of losing her to an fucking werewolf filled him with absolute dread. That same little voice in his head reminded him he never actually had her to begin with. He didn't know which one dragged him down further into the darkness.
Finally, he spotted them. They were alone at the edge of the garden, by a large Magnolia tree. Eric B-lined to them, tugging Portia a bit faster than her awkward deer legs could handle. His hands were aching to rip the werewolf to shreds. Tonight he wanted to drink wolf blood. But as he approached the two, he found the most peculiar and wonderful scene. They were fighting. He recognized a pissed-off Olivia Carson from a mile away, and she was monumentally pissed. It was strange not being the target of it.
"...You wanna pretend you're that kind of woman, then answer me that." Alcide bellowed, and he could see her quiet anger simmering just underneath the surface. He wanted to see it boil. He knew how spectacular she was when she raged.
"You have no idea what kind of woman she is, agent." Eric interrupted, grinning from ear to ear.
Olivia turned around and looked at him as if her life ended right then and there. She was speechless at the sight of him. Another effect he had on women. It was out-of-this-world satisfying. Herveaux made a guttural noise, almost like a growl. But then he stopped once he recognized who Eric was with. "Portia?"
Of course they would know each other - Alcide worked with Glenn Costa, her fiance if memory served him correctly.
Portia immediately yelped and freed herself from Eric's arm, as if she were suddenly allergic to him. "Please don't tell Glenn!" She yelped. Then, Portia immediately regretted her knee-jerk reaction, knowing how suspicious it sounded. "It's not what it looks like!"
"Then please tell me what it looks like," Alcide demanded.
Portia looked as if she swallowed ten frogs. Her panicked eyes looked as if they were about to pop out from their sockets. But she said absolutely nothing. A long awkward pause went by. A really long pause.
"Oh, God." Olivia buried her face in her palms, defeated. This was a fucking disaster and Eric was absolutely living for it which was quite the feat for someone who was dead.
"Portia, what are you doing here?!" Alcide asked her again. "What are either of you doing here?"
"Isn't that just the question of the evening?" Eric had not looked away from Olivia once. He just couldn't take his eyes off of her.
"Wait," Alcide also turned to Olivia. "You knew he would be here, didn't you?"
She looked at Eric, and then at the werewolf. "I did."
Alcide scoffed, visibly disappointed. He was realizing he was being played. Eric wished Pamela was here to enjoy this. "I don't know what kind of sick games you like to play, Olivia, but I think I was wrong about you. You are not worth saving at all."
She held her breath for a moment and put on her best brave face. But Eric knew that for whatever reason, his words had stung.
Dumbass wolf. Who does she need saving from?
"Portia, do you want me to take you home?" Alcide asked his date.
Eric was about to protest, but then Portia burst into loud sobbing. He took a full step away. He did not deal with crying women. Alcide might as well have volunteered to take out the trash. Portia nodded yes like a sad little kid who had dropped her ice cream cone.
"Goodbye, Olivia." Alcide hissed, looking visibly disgusted at her.
The werewolf took Portia's hand and the two left the garden and disappeared inside the ballroom.
Eric shoved his hands in his pockets and paced around her pretty fucking pleased at how little it took for him to ruin whatever it was he momentarily feared. He had a dirty smirk on his face, she was just itching to slap. She was now angry at him. Everything was right in the universe again. "You surprise me, Olivia. That's a rare quality in a breather."
"Oh shut up," she snarled, crossing her arms. The cold breeze from the river gave her goosebumps.
"No really, I mean it. The way you fucked that up was truly spectacular." Of course he wasn't complimenting her to her face. That would be crazy.
"From where I'm standing, you lost your date too."
Eric shrugged. "Meh. I can easily find another one."
"At a party full of couples?"
"Oh, especially at a party full of couples," Eric could not hold back the grin on his face.
He then wished, more than anything, that he could just keep her. Eric wished he could have brought her as his date this entire time. He would have gotten her the most expensive hotel room in the city, and treated her to dinner at whatever the most luxurious restaurant in the city was. Eric would have bought her a white rose corsage and a diamond necklace to match earrings. They would have had much more interesting conversations up in the mezzanine.
He would have earned her.
"Now, I'm having a hard time imagining why anyone would voluntarily go to one of these things. I know I'm being blackmailed to be here, but why the hell did you come?"
The two of them strolled through the garden, surrounded by the yellow warm light of a thousand little stars. But unfortunately, they were headed back to the party. He wished he would have had more time alone with her.
Olivia's eyes were particularly sparkling. He wondered if she was blinking away tears, but then she spoke clearly. "Because I fucked up, Eric. I gave Portia a car as a gift for her helping me with the title transfer of your house. Turns out, it raised all sorts of flags in the DEA, and now they have opened a case. It's my fault, I was trying to fix it-"
It was very honorable of her. Stupid, but honorable.
"The DEA has opened a case against vampires the second we came out to the world."
"But this case is against you specifically. And because Alcide is… You know what he is. He knows a hell of a lot more than he should. So I thought if I got close to him and maybe become his weakness-"
"Don't." Eric had heard everything he needed to.
Olivia wasn't dating Alcide, she was fucking playing him. Little did she know she put a much bigger plan at risk. Eric already had his weakness. Pam and Eric had been pulling on the DEA's puppet strings for months. Eric had eyes everywhere. The second the DEA included vampire blood in their idiotic war on drugs, he started his moves. He had closely studied every agent on vampire blood cases who could be a threat since the night his Queen made him start selling blood. That's how he found Alcide Herveaux, the human K9 unit. And then, he discovered Debbie Pelt, the ace in the hole.
Debbie had the reputation of a party girl who dabbled in some recreational drugs, vampire blood included. That's when Pam made her an addict - by glamouring her, but it didn't take much. Soon, it was the only drug Debbie wanted. And then it was all she wanted. She couldn't go two days without a drop without going crazy from withdrawal. So Pam secretly supplied it. In exchange, she would leak information on Alcide and anything he worked on. And every time her ass ended in jail, Pam would get her out. Sometimes Pam was able to interfere before she was even arrested. Like a personal guardian angel, if you will.
The werewolf girl grew resentful of Pamela, but yet she was a drug she couldn't quit. Every time she showed up at the back of Fangtasia or in their backyard, it was always the same story. "This is the last time", the pathetic wolf girl would say. Then Pam would glamour her some more, make her torment Alcide some more. For her next visit, she would give Pam information in exchange for more blood. It was a delicate and intricate operation, and Olivia was going to ruin it if she got Alcide to stray too far away from his former lover. If Alcide fell out of love with his long-time werewolf lover and cut her off for good, Debbie wouldn't be a very useful spy, would she?
"Don't do anything." He demanded, standing right next to her, his face right by her ear.
"Why-"
"That is a direct order." Eric was never so serious about anything in his life.
But being her stubborn self, Olivia prodded further. "Why did you get Debbie Pelt out of jail? What aren't you telling me?"
She had asked this before, and he now deeply regretted not telling her then. He foolishly asked for a kiss in exchange, and she denied him. It wasn't often Eric lost a bargain.
They looped the garden one more time, back to the Magnolia trees. He told her everything. She didn't even blink. By the time they had circled around, he was done. She didn't say a word.
"You are not to speak to him, see him, or even think of him ever again, copy? Stay away from him, for everyone's sake."
But she didn't take kindly to it. She never did. "You don't want me to see him, but I don't think it has anything to do with your insane plan. I think you are jealous-"
"Olivia, do I need to remind you what happens when you disobey me?" he hissed, leaning closer. The quietness of his voice was deadly with threat. "You have no idea what you're doing and he is a very delicate asset - do not fuck with it."
Her brown eyes had a sudden mischievous sparkle to them. "Well, it's a bit too late for that." She quipped.
The world came to a halt. Eric's eyebrows slightly frowned at what she was implying. Oh no. He gently inhaled her skin, expecting nothing but the dreamy mix of Chanel number 5 and her natural golden honey scent. But what he got was quite different. It was a nightmare incarnate. His fangs immediately came down angrily.
Olivia had been his.
"You slept with him?!" He asked her calmly, in a voice she had never heard him use before. It was a 'I want you to wear my hand as a necklace' voice.
Turns out, his cold indifference was paradise compared to the way he was looking at her right now. Before he could ask her something even more embarrassing she simply walked away, avoiding the answer altogether.
They now approached the ballroom doors, and the two were surrounded by party guests once again. Eric forcibly retracted his fangs, but he was still absolutely fuming. By the disgusting way he was staring at her, she didn't have to be a mind reader to know he was imagining her doing the entire kama sutra with the agent. Eric looked like he was going to be sick.
A waiter passed by with a tray of shots of tequila. This party had finally graduated from champagne. Olivia almost jumped the poor man and took two glasses, one in each hand. She drank them both immediately and placed the empty shots back on the tray, upside down. No lemon, lime or salt required, she wanted to feel it burn on the way down. She hoped the alcohol would kill her so she didn't have to continue this God-awful conversation.
The waiter picked up on the awkward moment happening between Olivia and Eric and was about to backway when Olivia loudly intervened.
"Aah-aah. I'm not done."
She drank two more shots before releasing the server back to the party. Olivia tried to tough through the total system shock of the hella-strong tequila, but she was pretty sure she failed. When she opened her eyes again, Eric was still standing next to her, judgment all over in his stupidly beautiful face. Had she mentioned Eric Northman looked like he had just gotten back from a GQ cover photoshoot? He was wearing a dark charcoal suit, perfectly tailor-made to fit his beautiful lean and tall body, and a crisp white shirt with the top buttons undone. His hair was perfectly smooth and he had grown a little bit of scruff, just enough to be tasteful. If sex were a person, it would be him.
"Why, you really wanna know?" She asked. Focusing on her anger rather than embarrassment seemed to work better in her favor. "You wanna know how he undressed me, kissed me, threw me on his bed and f-"
"That is enough." His words cut through her like a knife. Telling him she had fucked Alcide felt far worse than telling him she fucked up at her job. Olivia really knew herself, but this surprised her.
His eyes quickly scanned through the other guests around them. Eric didn't want her to draw other people's attention. But Olivia didn't care if other people overheard their conversation, she didn't want to hear this conversation.
"What? Come on!" She leered. She had gotten under his skin for once. All it took was… well, everything. "Aren't you always pushing for us to be blood-bound, so you can know everything? And suddenly you don't wanna know the spicy and sordid details of my sex life?"
Now he's the one who looked sour. "There are some things I would rather not know." He shook his head. "You are unbelievable, Olivia. I leave you alone for one fucking night, and you almost ruin everything-"
"Wait. I ruin everything? Listen here, buddy-"
He cocked a brow at her. "Clearly tequila works quickly."
She wanted to ask how he knew it was tequila, as she doubted he ever had any. But then she remembered he owned a fucking bar. Alcohol was seeping through her brain already, making her stupid. "If you had just told me what your evil puppet-master plan to begin with-"
"You wouldn't have gone with the nuclear option and slept with him?" The way he said it clearly showed he very much didn't believe that. Just then, he gave her that odd look he sometimes gave her, the one she couldn't read. Then, for the first time, he actually said what was on his mind. "God, you know who you remind me of? My first wife."
What? Olivia suddenly stopped avoiding his beautiful icy blue eyes, and her jaw almost dropped at the revelation. "You had a wife?"
"When I was human."
"Oh wow," she sneered. "Did you push her or did she jump?"
Eric lightly chuckled, but his mind was distant in a long-faded memory. Olivia then pressed her lips together, regretting her own words. If he had loved her, that would have been an awful and cruel thing to say. Even though it was practically impossible to picture Eric loving someone who wasn't himself, for whatever reason, she regretted saying it.
But if it bothered him, he didn't show. "She died of sickness. Some old disease that I don't even think exists anymore. Anyway, she hated me,"
Naturally. She didn't hold back on the sarcasm. "But you are always so lovely. How did you two meet? Kidnapping? Or did you buy her?"
"She was married to my younger brother, but he died in battle against the Pomeranians." He said in a serious tone. Clearly, her jokes weren't landing. Or maybe this topic was no laughing matter. If a thousand years wasn't time enough, no time would be.
"You married your dead brother's wife?"
"It's how things were done back then. Trust me, neither of us had much of a choice. She absolutely despised me. Freya couldn't even look at me in the face most days. But there was no way she could have refused the arrangement. I was the Jarl's son; I was influential, strong and wealthy and treated her well, and she was… Well, a woman. I honestly didn't care either way, I was just happy to have a woman in my bed."
"Ah yes, what a romantic you are. Truly the husband of the year."
"Winters were cold then, much colder than it is now, I'll have you know," he insisted. "Anyway, she never liked me because she still loved my brother. I thought it would eventually pass, but it didn't. She loved him until the day she died, some years later. And before my dad could marry me off again I volunteered to go on raids in Britannia. I wasn't so eager to be tied to someone who fucking hated me so soon. But then my path crossed Godric's and that was the end of that."
Olivia's stomach did a full flip. She was afraid of what the vampire's sharing meant, even though she had no idea why he was telling her all this. In fact, men confessing their tragic pasts with her tonight seemed to be the theme of the evening. "Is there a point to this whole Viking story?"
"I guess I need to know if this is the same."
Maybe it was the tequila coursing her veins but she wasn't following. "The same what?"
"Are you always going to hate me?" He asked point-blank.
She was not expecting this turn of events. Being alone at an elite event having a heartfelt conversation with Eric Northman while drunk. Olivia felt someone had run her over with a fucking train. And then backed it up over her again for good measure.
This entire time she thought Eric was completely indifferent to her; he had never wanted her around. Olivia had been forcibly entrusted to him by their Queen, a responsibility and a burden he never asked for. She had been rehomed as a Viking wife; for safekeeping, for business reasons, as a punishment, she didn't know, it didn't matter right now. Olivia thought this entire time that all he wanted with her was to own her like a pet dog, or toy with her like a plaything.
He did see her as a person, not as a nuisance in a hot package. But she wasn't like his first wife. Olivia wasn't helplessly stuck with him. She had infinite opportunities to have packed a few things and disappeared without a trace. Olivia may not have chosen Shreveport or Eric specifically, but she had definitely chosen to stay.
That was something hard, yet mind-clearing to admit.
If what Eric was alluding to were true, and if the way his eyes looked at her were sincere (and that was a BIG IF), then he perhaps did want more. Maybe there was a shred of possibility he wanted her to be his in a deeper way than he led on. It wasn't all simply a wicked game he was playing. He cared about her feelings. Maybe he cared about her.
"I don't hate you, Eric." And that was oddly truthful - she should hate him, and everything about him. She knew she was insane not to. "But if you keep infringing in my personal space and trying to control me-"
"That's not what I meant." He looked at her as if she were the only person at this party. It made her skin feel hot.
Olivia was afraid of asking, fearing it would be like opening Pandora's box. "What are you asking, exactly?"
Her brain erased other people from the party as well. It was just the two of them in the garden. Maybe in all of the city. Maybe on earth.
"Are you always going to love someone else?"
The question hit her like a million bricks. Liv knew what it was like to love someone who didn't love her back. And the idea of having Eric Northman loving her should have scarred the soul out of her - just like a million other things about him should have.
"I don't… Love anyone else. And I don't want to. I can't."
Strangely enough, Eric seemed intrigued by her answer. "You have a rule about falling in love, don't you?"
She nodded yes. Rule number 9 had a second part: no personal belongings or personal attachments. She had broken it before and it bit her in the ass. Surprisingly, Eric seemed content with her answer. He made his peace with it.
Eric and Olivia headed inside the ballroom, where the band played upbeat post-modern jazzy tunes, which a lot of people were dancing to. The last time she was inside she had been Alcide Herveaux's date and everything was going according to plan. That felt so far distant now it might as well have happened in a completely parallel universe.
She had come here initially to find out business dealings, and she was going home with far more than she had bargained for. Ironically, tonight felt a hell lot like losing.
"Well, I'm off to find a replacement for Portia."
Olivia meant to hold it back, but the tequila didn't let her. "Why her, Eric? Why not-"
"You?" He smirked again in the devilish way only he could. Their soft moment was over and he was back at being himself. "I thought you were repulsed by the idea of being seen in public with me."
She was, without a doubt, drunk now. Like she's told you before, it doesn't take much. The next thing she did was grab Eric's hand and lead him across the ballroom floor, towards the band.
They stopped at the edge of the crowd, where guests watched and admired the ones brave and drunk enough to dance.
"You want to dance?" Eric asked her, putting one and three together. He watched her curiously.
"I did ten years at a private ballet academy, four years at the Princeton Ballroom Club. Yeah, I want to dance."
He seemed surprised at her request. But without another word, Eric took her right hand in his left and wrapped his arm around her waist. Muscle memory took over and her back and shoulders straightened into position. He was the tallest (and by far the most attractive)(and dangerous) dance partner she ever had. And one of the most graceful.
They floated across the wooden floor to the beat of the music in unison, Eric leading the way and Olivia confidently following. They danced as if they had been dance partners their entire lives. She guessed he had many lifetimes to practice. Olivia wondered how many old-fashioned balls he had attended, and how many women he had dazzled. It was surely too many to count.
But something perhaps unexpected happened while they moved through the dancefloor. Olivia didn't just follow Eric's lead, she surrendered all control. She swung and spun at his command. When he lifted her, she trusted him to bring her back down.
Their eyes never left each other. There was no space between their bodies most of the time. They were connected as one and moved fluidly together all across the ballroom floor. Every time Eric spun her he caught her effortlessly. She followed each move he led, even though they got increasingly more complex. They started with a simple waltz, then moved seamlessly into a foxtrot. The band seemed to have caught on and played something spicier. Suddenly his hands moved from the safety of her high waist and grabbed the inside of her thigh as he caught her back from a spin. They were doing the tango now.
She simply melted into him. Their legs tangled together in a complicated puzzle. His hands touched her everywhere. This was hotter than any blood-induced dream she ever had. Every time he pushed her body away for a move, it became increasingly more painful to be apart.
Slowly other guests gave them the entire dancefloor and watched with a mix of awe and envy. But she didn't have to focus on putting her mind wall up to block off the crowd. To her, they were alone again. Nothing else existed but her, him and the music.
Olivia didn't remember the last time she had this much fun. Or the last time, if ever, that she relinquished control to someone else. She didn't even care if people were watching. Let them fucking have it. Their faces were millimetres apart, noses touching, and Olivia's breathing was uneven for more reasons than just dancing. She allowed herself to want him fully. The game she was playing now was to resist kissing him. It was almost impossible not to with the way he looked at her.
The band finished playing their last song on a high note and Eric dipped her back across his right thigh, and she completely leaned into it throwing her head back. His lips placed a kiss on her neck and then they froze.
The world came to a complete standstill. She wanted him to take her.
But the spell was broken as the crowd burst into applause. The singer thanked everyone for coming and announced a key-note speech of an important Burrell supporter Olivia didn't care about.
Eric stood up, bringing Olivia up with him and back to earth. They disappeared back into the crowd.
"That," he brought the back of her hand to his soft lips, depositing another kiss. It made her shiver. "Was a dance I won't forget."
"Likewise," she beamed, feeling the blood rushing through her body. God, she was fucking beaming.
"Well, I have to go find another date now," Eric told her, pushing her further back into reality. If there was a small part of her who wanted to be his official date before, the part was much bigger now.
"Eric," Olivia was annoyed he was being so dense. "I'm not embarrassed of you."
"Yeah, I got that." He buttoned his blazer back up, eyes scanning the crowd for the lucky winner. "But tonight is strictly a Nan Flanagan PR move. Trust me, you don't want to be my date."
Trying not to feel disappointment, she deflected quickly. "How about her?" Olivia nodded to a pretty and young woman in a modest navy blue gown, in a group of other college-aged girls. She was referring to Willa Burrell, Truman Burrell's daughter. A part of Olivia knew it would piss off her daddy immensely if he pulled it off. She didn't know why, but the prospect of getting Eric in a little bit of trouble with the Governor was extremely funny to her. Maybe it was her sick way of coping with the fact she was definitely going home alone tonight. Or maybe tequila had taken over.
"Sure," Eric said simply and he walked away, leaving Olivia alone for the first time tonight. She walked to a cocktail table and pretended to check her phone. But she secretly watched the whole thing. Eric approached the group of women, who instantly stopped talking at the sight of him and gawked at the tall, handsome and devilish sexy vampire.
"Good evening, " Eric smiled, eyeing Willa Burrell with the same intensity he always looked at women with.
"Yes," Willa answered immediately. She was doe-eyed and smacked silly at the sight of him.
"Yes to what?" Eric smirked.
"Anything you want."
Ugh. COME ON! Olivia pouted, absolutely fucking annoyed. She was hoping she would at least pretend to be hard to get.
Eric gave her a devilish smile and extended Willa his forearm. She took it with both hands, and almost literally floated away with him disappearing upstairs to the mezzanine. Olivia wanted to puke and it was only 43% because of the tequila.
She was suddenly washed away by a wave of thoughts of everyone surrounding her. She couldn't get them sorted out, or block them. She was suddenly a little kid again, crying at the Casino pier begging her parents to go back to the car. The loudness was consuming. Olivia drunkenly stumbled to the entrance and kindly tipped the valet boy 200 dollars to drive her home. The kid must have been 20 at most, he looked so young. He nervously helped her inside her Corvette. The kid was also unfortunately a loud broadcaster. It was like an FM radio in there. He also thought she was very pretty and wondered why she was going home alone. He was also relieved Olivia was responsible enough not to drive because he could tell she was very drunk.
She laughed, but it was blatantly obvious she was hiding a world of sadness. "Jokes on you, it's actually because I can't drive this stupid car."
He looked at her spooked. The kid then wondered if he had said what he thought out loud without realizing it.
"You didn't." His hands grabbed the steering wheel tighter. "It's fine. You worry too much, kid."
"But I didn't say anything, ma'am."
"I know," she sighed, feeling herself diving off in the passage seat. "I know."
The next morning, Olivia woke up with her phone ringing and vibrating somewhere between her sheets. Her head pounded and her stomach felt like it was missing its entire lining. It hurt so bad. She actually questioned if she was actually dying as her hands patted the mattress, looking for the hellish source of the noise.
"Hello?" Her voice was hoarse, and she found she also had a serious case of cottonmouth.
"OLIVIA ROSE CARSON!" The voice on the other side yelled. She gulped instantly, opening her eyes. There was only one person left alive on earth who yelled her full name when angry. "Have you lost your GODDAMN MIND?!"
"What's wrong, mom?" Her head was actually going to explode. She looked at her bedside tables - no water or Advil. Fuck.
"What is wrong? WHAT IS WRONG?"
Olivia honestly didn't know what was going to successfully kill her first, her mother's wrath or this hangover. See? This was why she didn't drink."WHERE ARE YOU?"
"I'm... In bed?" Technically, it was the truth which was her favorite kind of truth.
"Alone?!"
"Yes! God, Mom!" She suddenly found her voice again, feeling sweat all over. "That's kind of personal, don't you think? I'm a grown-ass woman, and-"
"TURN THE FUCKING TV ON AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF, YOUNG LADY!"
It took her a lot of energy to find her own cell phone in the sheets. She simply didn't have it in her to find the hotel's TV remote, especially if it required getting up.
"Just tell me what's going on, mom! You're freaking me out."
"What's going on is that you are having an affair with a vampire, and if that's not bad enough I had to find out through the fucking TV!"
Olivia was suddenly overcome with the newfound energy to lunge out of bed and grab the TV remote off the hotel room dresser. She fought off her dizzy head and fumbled with the goddamn buttons. She pressed the next channel button until she found the E! Channel. Her mother and aunt didn't really watch anything else.
"What the hell are you-"
Lo and behold, Eric was on her TV screen. Again. They were showing footage of guests at last night's party. She remembered the paparazzi outside, but she didn't remember anyone inside. They were talking about Eric Northman in detail, down from who he was wearing (Prada) to who he was dating. They replayed cellphone footage of him dancing with Olivia. They had her name, they knew her age, they knew she was his accountant, where she went to college and even where grew up. It was as if she a contestant in the Bachelor without fucking signing up. She felt completely exposed. Vulnerable was several stages ago.
Without wanting to, she had turned into a character of reality TV overnight. And it certainly wasn't as glamorous as she thought. They pitted her against Willa Burrell, the actual winner of Eric's affections. It was horrid, and shallow, and pathetic. She couldn't believe the position she had put herself in, all because she wanted to… She couldn't even think it. Not being able to stand another minute of it, Olivia turned the TV off. She wished she could turn the whole world off.
"Is that what you've been doing down there?! I thought you moved to Louisiana to work for an accounting firm!"
"I did!" She answered in an octave too high. Technically she was the only employee at Carson Holdings LLC, an accounting office based in New Orleans.
"They are saying you are his accountant! Since when do you work for vampires? How long have you been lying to your mother!?"
"I, uh…"
Oh shit. But Tessa Johnson (formerly Carson) was not done. Nothing like a mother's wrath to humble the fuck out of you. "Are you dating him?! They showed a video of the two of you dancing at some fancy ball!"
"It was a lame fundraiser for some old guy running for governor, it's really not a big deal, mom. And no, I'm not dating him. He even left with somebody else!"
"Willa Burrell,"
"Yeah, her." Suddenly the thought of Eric banging the Governor's daughter was no longer funny.
"Yeah, they got footage of the two leaving together but then they spent a whole ten minutes discussing who he had more chemistry with, you or her. They are having a poll online about it, your aunt just told me!"
She deeply inhaled trying to hold it all together. Fuck. God, why was this happening? "It's Eric Northman, mom, he can find chemistry with a brick wall if he wants to."
"So you do know him,"
Olivia was going to throw up. "Yes mom, he's my boss. But that's it." She immediately regretted the Freudian slip. Not her boss, her client. God fucking dammit.
"And how long have you been working for dead people?!"
"Since I moved here."
"And why the hell would you do something so fucking stupid?"
"Because-"
She wasn't much interested in the answer, her mom just bulldozed her with more questions. "Why the fuck did you hide this from me?"
"Uhm, because I knew you were going to act exactly like you are acting now. Super calm and full of reason-"
"Don't make me sound like I'm crazy! Am I supposed to be thrilled you're working for vampires?! What kind of mother would I be?!"
"A supportive one!"
"Olivia, vampires are dangerous! They literally suck out people's blood to live. Dear God, did he bite you?"
"No, mom!" But someone else had.
"Liv," she could hear her mother sigh on the phone, trying to calm herself out of a heart attack. "You are an extremely intelligent woman. I don't know where you got it from, cause it sure wasn't from me or your father, but you are. Now why in the world would you risk yourself like that?! Is it the money? If you think you have to put yourself in danger in order to support me, please don't. I would never forgive myself if you got hurt."
She felt a deep pain in her chest. Olivia closed her eyes and plunked her ass on the edge of the soft bed so the room would stop spinning. Her mother's words felt suffocating and heavy. Disappointing your only living parent always does. Olivia would go much further than just working for vampires to help her mother. She felt the warmth of tears roll down her cheeks.
"I can't read his mind."
There was a long pause on the line but a lot was said in silence. Olivia felt 50 lbs evaporate off her shoulders. But now she could tell her mother was trying not to cry which added about 100 lbs back on. Olivia never talked about her abilities at all, not even with her family. They knew about it but never brought it up. Everyone had made a secret vow of silence on the topic and there was that on that. They thought they were being nice by pretending she was like them, but it was nothing but incredibly isolating.
"You can't hear his thoughts?" She asked quietly.
"I can't hear vampire thoughts at all."
Another long silence. She wanted to tell someone for so long, actually doing so felt overwhelming. If it felt good or bad she couldn't quite tell. Liv wiped the tears off her face, smearing the back of her hand with black mascara. She had slept with makeup on too? FUCK!
Her mother had no words to say. If she were here in person, Olivia wondered what exactly she would hear if she listened to her mother's head. Would she understand how comforting not hearing a person's every thought was? Would she judge her for only feeling like an actual normal person around vampires? But she knew in her heart that if her mom were here and saw her like this, she would give her a tight hug. She would kill for one of her hugs right now.
Her phone started beeping in her ear. Another call was coming through - Mr. Cataliades, the Queen's lawyer was calling.
"Mom, I have to go now. Can I call you later?"
She sounded disappointed but didn't put up a fight. Olivia hoped she understood the truth wasn't so black and white. "Of course, honey. Take care of yourself. I love you."
"I love you too, mom."
Liv hung up the phone and cleaned off her cheeks once again and shook herself off before answering the lawyer as if it made her more professional somehow.
"Good morning, Mr. Cataliades," she said in her best fake cheery voice.
"Oh, you're up," he sounded surprised by that. "Good morning, Miss Carson. Tell me, are you still in Baton Rouge?"
The fact he knew where she was was a very bad sign. "Yes, I am."
"Good." And because Olivia had imploded her own life down into a clusterfuck sundae, it only needed the cherry on top. "Come down to New Orleans tonight. The Queen wants to see you."
A.N.
Ok, so this was THE MOST FUN I've had writing a chapter probably ever. I have served:
Jealous Eric✓ pissed off Alcide✓ crying Portia✓ drunk Olivia✓ tender Eric!✓ sexual tension✓✓✓ heart-wrenching family moments✓ and as per usual, ominous cliffhanger ✓
Did I, or did I not tell you this was going to be a rollercoaster? Prepare your butts because the scary triple backwards loop part is coming next.
xoxo til next time loveliesss