I was surprised I’d felt as well rested as I did when I woke up the following morning. It took a while for me to fall asleep with my mind going over our talk and his subsequent porn speak over dessert. From the way he was moaning and groaning over the pie I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he moonlighted doing voiceovers for adult movies. As if that wasn’t bad enough, when he said he’d eat my pie every day, it didn’t take much for that plate to slip through my hands since he’d apparently made my fingers just as slippery as my hoohah. He’d obviously had no idea of where my dirty mind had traveled to, just like I had no idea I’d been subconsciously making a pair of tinfoil panties, needing a whole other kind of shield I didn’t think Mr. Spock or Scotty could help me out with.
I knew I had gotten the rest I’d been lacking, but the dreams that filled my night left me just as worn out as I’d felt before going to sleep. Like the night before, they’d been filled with Eric only this time, instead of him fucking one faceless woman after another, he’d been fucking me; thoroughly. I had to take a cold shower just to cool off, both my body and my thoughts, and forced my mind to think of the day ahead so I could focus on something other than just how talented his tongue might be.
I dressed comfortably in a pair of nice slacks and a short sleeved shirt, twisting my hair up into a chignon on the back of my head, knowing I’d be doing a lot of work today. School was getting a late start due to renovations on the building that weren’t quite done and didn’t actually open for students until Friday with the rest of the week filled with meetings over the upcoming school year and the teachers preparing their classrooms for the incoming students. I hoped I wouldn’t get too much grief over my impromptu wedding from Mr. Brigant, but the fact he hadn’t called over the weekend gave me some hope that it wouldn’t be too much of a big deal.
It was a little before seven when I finally made my way out to the kitchen already looking forward to a cup of coffee I’d set up to brew in Eric’s fancy coffee pot the night before and was shocked to see Eric waiting for me, cup in hand. His face lit up with a huge smile as he handed it to me and said, “Good morning Mrs. Northman.”
My insides turned to mush, even though it still felt weird hearing my new name, and I smiled responding, “Good morning Mr. Northman.” I took the cup from his offered hand asking with a smile, “Why are you up so early?” Even though he’d been up early the morning before, for some reason I didn’t picture Eric as an early riser.
I thought his smiles could end wars if all of the world’s leaders were women, so I was left a little awestruck seeing it while he said, “It’s your first day at work. I wanted to see you off and wish you good luck.” The sound of the toaster popping up made us both turn and he took the two Pop Tarts from it and put them on a plate, handing them to me and saying, “I made you breakfast.”
If this was all part of his master wooing plan it was working. He looked so proud when he handed them to me I couldn’t help but smile back at him and saying, “Thank you.” I sat at the counter and broke one in half so it could cool a little, but when the smell hit me I realized it was cherry flavored and couldn’t stop the frown from forming on my face before he saw it.
“Is something wrong with it?” he asked.
“No,” I lied and took a bite, trying not to spit it back out and pretended that I liked it.
His eyes narrowed watching me and he took the other half from my plate, taking a bite, and saying, “It tastes okay, so why are you making that face?”
“What face?” I asked and chugging my entire cup of coffee to wash it down.
“That face,” he pointed back at me, “and I believe you said it was rude to answer a question with a question.”
I sucked it up and decided to tell him the truth. “It’s just that I really don’t like cherries.”
His eyebrows rose up into his hairline like I’d just admitted to draining kittens in back alleys as my preferred meal. I was confused when he walked up beside me and leaned down smelling me, maybe for a minute longer than necessary and I wondered if I smelled bad, before he pulled back and said, “But you always smell like cherries!”
He was right, I did and admitted, “I know it’s weird, but I really like the way they smell, just not the way they taste.”
The way he stepped back and looked at me made me feel like I’d just admitted to having a penis at birth and I wondered if it could be a deal breaker, putting a halt to any future wooing, but he just shrugged his shoulders saying, “Okay.”
Crisis averted, I slid the plate back to him and watched him gleefully eat what was left as I poured another cup of coffee while toasting a slice of bread and asked, “So what do you have going on today?”
“I’m meeting Tray at the gym in an hour and then going to the studio for rehearsals. I should be home by 6.”
I wondered if he knew Quinn, but since Quinn had never mentioned meeting Eric I figured their paths hadn’t crossed and pushed all thoughts of him from my mind. We programmed each other’s cell phone numbers into our phones and Eric gave me a key to the house and explained how to disarm the alarms since I would get home before him while I finished eating. Once I was done, I grabbed my things and said, “I guess I’ll see you later.” Awkward was suddenly a third presence in the room and I wondered if I should give him a kiss goodbye. I wanted to, but he just waved at me saying, “Have a nice day dear,” from where he stood so I took my cue from that and turned, walking out to the garage.
We hadn’t discussed me driving his car again, nor had he given me the key, so I had every intention of driving my own car when I stepped into the garage, but I stopped when I saw what he’d done. My car had been backed into the garage and a homemade poster was draped across the windshield with a crudely drawn bird in the center and the words, “Save the Hummingbirds” underneath it. I wanted to be pissed he thought so little of my car, but I couldn’t and laughed instead. I didn’t hear Eric come up behind me so I jumped a little when his hand suddenly appeared in front of me dangling a car key in my face and a shiver went down my spine when he leaned down whispering in my ear, “Please take my car.”
Christ on a cracker that man smelled good and I closed my eyes, willing my reactive libido down, before I took the key from his fingertips and turned to face him saying, “Fine.”
He held up his other hand, offering me the piece of fruit he’d carried with him saying, “An apple for the teacher.”
Eric Northman: Master Wooer.
Fuck it. I took the apple and stood up on my tippy toes kissing his scruffy cheek and said, “Thank you,” before pulling back and walking quickly to the car before I climbed him like a monkey. I chanced a glance at him while waiting for the garage door to open and felt a small sense of satisfaction seeing the still stunned look on his face.
Welcome to the club.
I gave him one last wave and pulled out of the garage, making a mental note to pick up that case of panty liners, and headed down the driveway. I had hoped I could make a discreet departure figuring it would be too early for the paparazzi to have already congregated, but I was wrong. I put my sunglasses on and did my best not to run any of them over before getting onto the main road and headed for the school. The caravan followed me for the entire ten minute drive and I was thankful the school was gated, like Eric’s community, so once I was through it and onto the school grounds I was free of them.
My first stop was the main office where I met up with a nice woman named Belinda. I’d met her during the interview process and she sat me down with a stack of forms I had to fill out as a new employee, so I felt even better thinking they wouldn’t have me bother with them if I wasn’t going to be employed. I had to constantly remind myself to write down ‘Northman’ as my last name, but it didn’t take long before it started to become second nature to me. It felt like I was in the sixth grade all over again, minus the hearts.
When I finished them all I found Belinda and handed them to her, anxious to see my new classroom, but felt my stomach drop when she said, “Mr. Brigant would like to speak with you. He’s in his office.” I knew it was coming, but that didn’t help lessen the ominous feelings I had as I walked down the short hallway and knocked on his door.
I opened the door when I heard him say, “Enter,” and he looked up from his desk without smiling and said, “Miss Stackhouse, or should I say Mrs. Northman?” His longer than average white blond hair was pulled back and fastened at the nape of his neck and his light blue eyes showed nothing of his emotions as they bored into my own.
I forced a smile and said, “It’s Northman now, but Sookie is fine.” What else could I say? I didn’t think ‘Fuck off you pompous prick’ would be received very well.
“Yes, so I saw on CNN. You had a very eventful weekend, but I’m somewhat perplexed since you failed to list Mr. Northman on any of the background forms you submitted prior to you being selected for the position.”
I recited our practiced lie saying, “Eric and I were merely friends when I turned that paperwork in with our relationship moving forward in the last couple of weeks. No one informed me, nor did I read in any of those forms, that I should inform anyone of any changes in my life short of being arrested for a crime. It’s not a crime to get married.”
“So our lawyers have informed me.” He let that massive statement hang in the air before adding, “I’d heard of your husband in the past, but I googled him after hearing the news. He’s got quite the history of being a…loose cannon.”
Fuck you; he made me Pop Tarts and a poster. “Yes, a history and I assure you it’s all in the past.”
We stared each other down for a minute before he finally said, “I hope it stays that way.”
Once I was dismissed I found Belinda and she showed me to my classroom where I spent the rest of the morning cleaning and hanging up posters and whatnot. I took a break around lunchtime and strolled the grounds, eating my apple, and met a few of the other teachers. They all seemed nice enough and one of them, Sam Merlotte, gave me a tour of the school. The rest of the afternoon was filled with meetings so when I made my way back to my classroom to get my things at the end of the day, I was surprised to see a bouquet of red roses sitting on my desk and I opened the card wondering who could’ve sent them. I should’ve known.
I hope you’re having a good day.
He’d signed it with a heart and the letter ‘E’.
Master Wooer indeed.