Eric left instructions for one of the daytime employees to take Fangtasia's business credit card to Sears and use it to purchase the best toaster they had. "Leave receipt on my desk," he finished before inking the large "E" with which he signed most of his paperwork. He remembered seeing Sookie's toaster – or the pieces of it, at any rate – on the kitchen floor before they had left. Any other damages would have to wait until he could ascertain what they were.
He anticipated being buried in business concerns for the rest of that night and the one following. Such matters, even when dull, had rarely if ever been unpleasant. But they were now, thanks to Victor's new establishment near the interstate. Vampire's Kiss. Fangtasia's revenue had plummeted in a matter of weeks, and it was only trending lower. If Eric couldn't turn the numbers around within a couple of months, Fangtasia would close the year at a loss.
A good leader would never dream of compromising the financial success of one of his state's most prominent representatives. A good leader would have located the new bar in a region where vampires had not yet gained a financial foothold. But there were good leaders, and then there was Victor. Eric gritted his teeth.
As he shuffled through his mail, one square red envelope stood out from the others. Eric didn't need to look to see the sender. He ripped it open and scanned the "invitation" – his presence required on the night of… flowery bullshit… bring his wife… bring Pam… et cetera… more bullshit.
And fuck you, Victor.
"Please tell me I don't have to go to whatever that is," Pam said, eyeing him from the leather couch.
"'I also humbly request the presence of your enchanting progeny, Miss Ravenscroft,'" Eric read aloud from the card.
At least the look on Pam's face was something to enjoy.
By bribing her with a new dress of her own, he convinced her to go out and find a dress for Sookie. From Shreveport's handful of department stores and boutiques, Pam texted him picture after picture until he finally approved of an elegant, metallic-colored dress that seemed designed specifically for the purpose of making Sookie Stackhouse look like a goddess.
On the night they were to make their unhappy pilgrimage to Vampire's Kiss, Eric sent a quick text to Sookie so that she would be expecting him when she got home. She didn't answer, but that was better than a "No." He called and arranged for Immanuel to meet him at Sookie's house – paying an exorbitant amount since Immanuel claimed that he would have to cancel some appointments. Eric doubted this, but he was in no mood to argue.
He put the toaster and the dress into his business car and drove to Bon Temps at what the humans would call a "reasonable speed." Sookie was still at work when he reached her house, so he took the toaster from the front seat and went to wait on her porch. Rocking idly on her porch swing, holding a toaster, waiting for his date, he felt pleasantly human. He would have considered that expression an oxymoron until very recently.
Sookie was happy to see him. She was being careful not to show it, but her blood couldn't lie. She arched one eyebrow as she approached the porch swing. "To what do I owe the honor?"
He handed her the toaster. The red bow on the box had been his own touch. "We haven't had any fun lately," he said.
She walked to the door to unlock it as he continued to regard her from the swing. "Between me putting out a fire and you attacking Pam? Yeah, I'd say that was a fair statement." Her smile, along with the happiness he could feel glowing inside her, made her words all but meaningless. "Thanks for the replacement toaster, though I wouldn't classify that as fun," she continued, turning the box in her hands to study it. "What do you have in mind?"
The swing creaked as he stood and joined her at the door. He leaned in close to her and purred, "Later, of course, I have spectacular sex in mind. I've thought of a position we haven't tried yet."
Her breath caught, and he took the opportunity to push open the door. He gestured for her to go in first, and she blinked. Whatever she had been thinking of, it had colored her cheeks very nicely. She walked inside and set the toaster box on her kitchen counter as he shut the door behind them and laid her keys next to the toaster.
"What do you have in mind before the spectacular sex?"
He was tempted – very tempted – to say, "Nothing, really," and go straight to the sex. Not for the first time that night, he silently cursed Victor Madden.
"We have to visit a new dance club." The moment he said it, he knew that his effort to sound completely happy about it had failed. "That's what they're calling it," he added quickly, running his hands down her arms, "to try to bring in the young people who look pretty. Like you."
The flattery got him nowhere. "Where is this dance club?" she asked.
She stepped away from him, and for a moment he worried that she was going to refuse. Instead, she started for her room, pulling out her tucked-in work shirt as she walked. He followed her.
"It's between here and Shreveport." Out with it, he told himself. "Victor just opened it."
"Oh," she said. She pulled the shirt over her head and began to unzip her shorts. "Is it smart for you to go there?"
"It's not smart to go to this club, but we don't have a choice. Victor has ordered me to make an appearance with my wife." He sat on the edge of her bed and watched as she looked through her closet, sliding over hanger after hanger. "He'll think I'm afraid of him if I don't bring you."
He leaned back against the pillows and clasped his hands behind his head. For a few seconds or minutes – he didn't know how long – he was lost in his own thoughts. A sigh from Sookie, and a particularly loud, metallic scrape from one of the hangers, and he sat upright, feeling like an idiot. "There's something in my car, I forgot," he said. He raced to the car and lifted the dress and his own change of clothes from the backseat, then sped back to Sookie. He held up the hanger so that she could see the dress through its clear garment bag.
Her eyes widened. "What? It's not my birthday."
In pulling her work shirt over her head, she had sent some strands of her hair wildly astray, and he smoothed them back behind her ear. "Can't a vampire give his lover a present?" he asked, smiling at her.
She returned his smile and reached for the hanger. "Well, yes, he can." She pulled off the bag and held up the dress, turning it before her eyes. "This is…" She gaped. "Is this the whole thing?"
He flashed his fangs at her in a broad grin. "You will look wonderful. Everyone will envy me."
Sookie draped the dress over her arm and reached for him to kiss her, which he was happy to do. "Gonna take a quick shower," she murmured, giving him one last, brief kiss. She hung the dress on her closet door and disappeared into her bathroom, and Eric returned to the kitchen to wait for Immanuel, who was running a few minutes late.
When the unfortunately coifed young man arrived, Eric led him to Sookie's room and indicated her vanity table. They heard the water stop, and Sookie emerged a couple of minutes later in her bathrobe. She seemed startled to see Immanuel there with him, and Eric realized that he should have told her. His mind was scattered tonight, and that would simply not do, especially once they reached Victor's bar.
Immanuel set to work, first drying and styling her hair, and then applying her make-up. She was obviously pleased with the result as she turned her head this way and that for the mirror.
"Thank you," she breathed, smiling at Immanuel's reflection behind her.
Immanuel nodded and began to put away his things. "You're welcome. You've got great skin. I like working on you."
Sookie's great skin flushed down to her neck and possibly further, and Eric weighed the consequences of tossing Immanuel out of the window and having Sookie right there against the vanity.
"Please leave a card," she told Immanuel, and he gave her one. "How's your sister?" she asked him.
Eric already knew that Miriam was bad – worse than when Pam had last visited. In fact, Pam had been furious that she couldn't cancel her appearance at Victor's bar and go to Miriam instead.
"She had a good day today. Thanks for asking," Immanuel told Sookie.
Once Immanuel had left, Sookie rummaged through her dresser and withdrew some lingerie so scanty that Eric wondered how she could have been charged for it. He watched her every movement as she shrugged off her bathrobe, stepped into her thong, reached around to hook her bra. Unable to resist, he slid his palm over her thigh, splaying his fingers dangerously close to the edge of the lacy scrap of material that left little to his imagination.
"So smooth…" He looked up at her with lust in his eyes.
"Hey," she smiled, swatting his hand away, "you keep doing that, we won't get to the club, and all this preparation will have gone to waste."
He stood and traced the top edge of her strapless bra with one fingertip. "Not entirely to waste…"
She giggled and swatted his hand away again, and she only stepped back within his reach when she needed his help to finish putting on her dress. He had been right: it looked stunning on her. He picked up his own clothes, which he had tossed on the bed, and changed into them. Pam had selected a dark suit with a bronze-colored tie that matched Sookie's dress perfectly.
"C'mere," Sookie said.
She motioned for him to sit in front of her vanity. He watched her in the mirror as she braided his hair and secured it with a black ribbon from one of the drawers. When their eyes met in the reflection, hers were full of approval and affection.
She reached for his hand. "Let's get this show on the road."