So I'm a tease and changed it up a bit. Don't hate.

I stopped laughing at him, but couldn't help but smile. I sauntered over to the door and he took a step back as I approached. I put my hand on the door frame and the other on the door and looked him up and down. Then I leaned in to him and said, "Well, Mr. Northman, by all means," as I took a step backward and promptly slammed the door shut. Problem solved.

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EPOV

Oh no she did not. Fuck? Pam is going to crucify me. I can see it now. I turned away from the closed door and leaned against the opposite wall. I heard laughing, then giggling, then nothing.

I was trying not to see red, but I did. I could easily drain this bitch and this entire ordeal would be over with. But would it? No, it wouldn't. I liked her personality. I liked how she flaunted her ego over and over again. I'd get her. I know I would. I would just recompose myself outside this damned hotel room door and play with my phone. Yes. Otherwise my phone would be shattered against her door and I'd be snarling, out of control and in remorse for yet another fucking i-phone. Stackhouse must be something special and I'd just need to find my inner calm. I just needed time. Fuck time.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

SPOV

I was pretty damned sure I'd pissed him off. I didn't hear him retreat, but I thought vampires could walk with stealth or some such crap. I kicked my my shoes off and then yanked down my slacks. I unzipped my bag and pulled out my low rise jeans and slid them on and then looped my belt with the huge buckle that I liked. The blue cami top and blazer remained, and I found my light brown cowboy boots in the duffle that I'd forgotten to unpack on my last trip. I snatched up my purse. I had changed in record time. I yanked open the door. He hadn't stalked off. He was right where I wanted him to be. Standing across the hall with his back to the wall and i-phone in hand was Mr. Frosty. Apparently this was not what he was expecting, me opening the door, that is. Or maybe he liked the change in wardrobe. Whatever.

"Let's go."

"Go where?"

"You own a vampire bar around here, don't you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Oh please," I said and began walking to the elevator, boots clunking on the carpeted hallway as I went. As I reached the lift and smacked the down button he was next to me. The doors opened and we stepped into the lift. I glanced in my peripheral vision and could see him staring at me, feet upward. He noticed my belt buckle and smirked.

"What?" I wanted to know. Needed to know.

"I like the change of scenery."

Mouth open, I gawked. Well at least he wasn't threatening to rip my throat out for being insolent or whatever he considered me to be at this point. "Really? And here I put so much thought into my previous attire. It is my favorite suit you know and I love those pumps. All I needed was a pair of plain ole jeans to get your attention? Or is it the simple addition of a goddamned belt that does it for you?"

"I like the buckle."

"You're abnormal, you know that?"

He laughed. "And how the hell would you know this? Oh, wait, it must be your vast experience in the undead, right? I forgot you were the authority in these matters."

I snorted. Asshole. The doors opened and I walked out, making cold and snappy follow in my wake. As we hit the valet, the boys looked confused. Clearly they though we were together, but given our posture I could see where the confusion began. "Mr. Northman's car, please."

"What are you doing?" He was inquisitive.

"Are you always this obtuse?" I retorted.

"I'm not dense. You're a conundrum."

"Confused by the back water bimbo, Mr. Northman?"

"I doubt that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Before he could answer a shiny, red Corvette arrived. I cocked an eyebrow at the vamp. "Mr. Inconspicuous?"

"Yes?"

"You try to play it down, so to speak, but yet you drive a bright, shiny, red fucking Corvette?"

"Shut up and get in, Stackhouse." I held back, wanting to watch the dead version of Magilla Gorilla try to squeeze his large frame into a clown car. To my amazement, he fit into the damn thing. I slid into the smooth, leather interior with reverie. Hey I know when to give it when due, and shut the door hard. Tiny cabins created a vacuum and I knew trying to dantily shut the door would only result in the damn thing bouncing open again. I waited for him to chide me for slamming his baby's door but he seemed to get what I was doing. My eyebrow was still up, expecting a reply, and he got that.

"I never said I didn't like showy things, I just said I didn't dress like a drag queen in heat." Score for the man without a pulse.

"You realize this screams look at me? You live in fucking Louisiana. Not New Orleans even, but Shreveport. You're surrounded by slack jawed morons," and at this I tilted my head at the valet we were presently driving away from, "who look like they could not only be extras in but probably stars in Deliverance, and you choose to drive this?"

"Deliverance?" Now it was his turn to arch an eyebrow.

"You have a pretty mouth." He was still confused.

"Nevermind, google it when you get a chance." As if in response, he floored the gas and I began what could only be called a death grip on the oh shit handle and center console. I couldn't release it until he flew into a parking lot and literally drifted the `Vette into a parallel parking spot behind the bar. Stone gray with red neon signs proclaiming Fangtasia. This is it. And it looks ridiculous. He seemed to sense my thoughts.

"This isn't a portal into vampire reality, Ms. Stackhouse. The public and the tourists want to gawk at us like animals on exhibit. So I oblige. It's annoying at best, but it pays the bills and then some."

"Is it like Sea World? Do you guys sell vamp food to the tourists so they can feed your animals for you too?"

"Sea World?"

Jesus Christ, get with the program. "Sea World. It's a theme park with aquatic animals: dolphins, whales, otters, sea lions and sharks." Sharks, you can relate, right? "They have an amazing con program going on. You pay an enormous entry fee and then they charge you $5 for three small sardines. At regularly scheduled times, which incidentally coincide with the animal's feeding schedules, you pay outrageous prices for food they have to feed the damn animals anyway. Then, as if that wasn't insult enough, you get to feed the animals for them. To top it off, they have employees with cameras set to strategically photograph you feeding said wild life so they can charge you through the nose for a perfect portrait of you getting ripped off. It's a great scam. You should offer it here."

He looked at me like I had two heads. Oh for fuck's sake. I got out of the car, snatched up my purse, slammed the door and waited for him to lead the way.

He came around and asked, "What is it you are looking for, here, at my bar?"

"You seem to want me to get to know you and how this shit works, so show me. You claim you're not a monster and act as if you want to toe the line, so show me."

"Do you want to be up my ass while you do this, or are you looking for an outsider's view?"

The way he looked in those pants, I could imagine myself wanting both. "I want the outsider's viewpoint."

He smirked. "Good. This here," he pointed at the cold gray door in front of us, "is the employee entrance. You can go around."

"Excuse me?"

"You want the informal view. So you can go around to the front and wait in line like the rest of the vermin, Ms. Stackhouse." Before I could snap at him or stomp a foot, he was inside and the door was shutting in front of me.