Chapter 4

EPOV

There was no way to describe Pam. She was something you had to experience for yourself before you could truly understand; like a rollercoaster or skydiving, except not fun or thrilling. More like explosive diarrhea after eating a shitload of lethally hot buffalo wings and your ass felt like it was on fire, burning hot enough to make tears stream down your face on its way out. That was Pam.

Besides, I didn’t feel like talking to her fucking bitchified ass, so I completely ignored her question. I was still dumbstruck from witnessing at least part of what had happened last night and if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. I had never been so drunk that I didn’t remember even one iota of the night before, which was really something considering how much I’ve put away in the past. If I’d been told the possibility existed that this could be a consequence of drinking back in rehab, I would have become a lifetime teetotaler. Or, at least, I would have limited my drinking to when I was at home.

I stared back down at her name tattooed on my finger, fucked up hearts and all, while still having no clue what the fuck a ‘Sookie’ was. Maybe her parents were hippies, or retarded, or just plain fucking demented. Looking over at her again objectively, I had to admit she was hot. Smokin’ hot. Her hair and tits looked natural, which was a rarity in my world, but I’d been with far more beautiful women before and I didn’t marry any of them. She didn’t look familiar at all so I doubted we’d met prior to last night and unless we fucked at some point prior to leaving the casino, which while possible was still doubtful, we’d gotten married before we even had sex. Maybe she’d given me the best blow job of my life under the poker table and my drunken brain thought that was a good enough reason? She must have no gag reflex and actually swallowed.

I found those thoughts distracting so I quickly refocused. As bad as the paparazzi videos had been, I wished someone had filmed what happened inside the casino so I could try and figure out what would have made me lose my mother fucking mind if it wasn’t because of an orgasm to end all orgasms. I didn’t have time to continue contemplating my literally blushing bride, she’d stayed nearly as red as her dress the entire time we were watching the video, because the door to the suite opened and in walked the only woman that could make my ass pucker.

Pam.

Her high heels clacked along the marble floor to where we sat, her gaze leveled squarely on me. I had to fight the urge to cower behind Alcide because I’d never seen her as pissed off as she was right then.

“What. The. Fuck. Eric.”

I tried not to flinch and just shrugged my shoulders in response mumbling, “I was drunk.”

“Well there’s a fucking news bulletin. Let me put on my shocked face.” Her expression remained unchanged.

Pam’s steely gaze was creeping me the fuck out because I had the misfortune of witnessing her unleash her wrath before. I never figured Oliver Stone would be a crier.

We remained in a stare down, waiting for the other one to blink, and when I couldn’t take the heat any longer I threw Skankerella under the bus, pointing at her and saying, “It’s all her fault!”

My fault?” she shrieked in disbelief. My shoulders sagged in relief when my ploy worked and Pam’s hatred was directed across from me. I figured I’d be better off if Pam could work off her head of steam on Sookie so I wouldn’t have to bear the initial brunt of her anger.

“Yes your fault!” Prepare to be Pam’d! I thought sitting back with a smirk on my face and my arms folded across my chest feeling vindicated. I figured it had to have been her fault because I sure as fuck wouldn’t have come up with the idea to get married. I wondered if her ass was puckering.

“How is it my fault? I don’t remember any of it!” she squawked.

Pam ignored her question, instead doing what she did best…she Pam’d her. “Oh please sweetheart, this is absolutely your fault. Eric barely has the wherewithal to decide to take a shit without being told and even then he needs someone to wipe his ass, which is why we hired Alcide,” she took the opportunity to smack him up the backside of his head and I scooted a few inches farther away from her before she continued, “so trust me when I say he did not decide to get married; he was convinced to. And seeing how you’re dressed, he was clearly under duress. So, what are you? A wannabe actress? A high-end escort? You look like a bumpkin, but you’re wearing Dolce so it’s the likely option. Or did you just shove your tits in his face and stroke his dick to get him to buy it for you so you could ditch your flip flops and commemorative Dale Earnhardt t-shirt, wanting to take a ride on the Northman gravy train?”

While I didn’t like getting dragged into her tirade knowing I was perfectly capable of wiping my own ass, I kept quiet, trying my best not snicker at the shocked expressions being worn on the couch across from me, while having no doubt she was just another gold digger that I’d been fucked up enough to actually marry. Sookie and her friend looked completely stunned, so I was a little surprised when they both jumped up a second later with her friend saying, “That’s MY dress!” while Sookie simultaneously yelled, “I’m not a gold digging whore!”

The three of them looked like they were about to come to blows and I already knew from experience Sookie was quick to let her slapping hands fly, but even two against one, my money was on Pam. I guessed Alcide saw the potential for violence too because he tried to diffuse the situation by saying, “Sookie’s a kindergarten teacher at The Brigant Academy.”

I could barely hear Sookie whisper, “Not for long…”

That brought Pam up short and seemed to do the trick with everyone’s claws retracting a minute later with her only response being, “Really…” I knew her well enough to recognize the look on her face as she moved around the chess pieces in her mind and was completely caught off guard when she faced me saying, “And don’t think I’m done with you! While it’s a close call, you’re not an officially diagnosed retard, but you are a rehab graduate so you know better than to think you can stop after a couple of drinks. We’ve discussed this. Many times. What do you think your father is going to have to say about it all? I would have been here sooner, but I had to stop by his house and slash his tires so he couldn’t follow me out here and fuck with my spin mojo. Christ, did you even pay attention at the meeting yesterday?”

Fuck, my father’s reaction hadn’t even occurred to me and I wasn’t looking forward to it now that I was reminded of him. It wouldn’t be good, of that I was sure, especially after the three of us met with the studio executives for the sitcom yesterday morning. The paparazzi had been relentless ever since I got out of rehab and the executives were wary that I was starting back down the path that had led me there. Admittedly, I’d shown up unprepared for rehearsals and tapings several times recently and they attributed it to my lifestyle which was fully documented thanks to the internet. It was more like a professional intervention kind of meeting and I was warned that I’d be written off of the show if I fucked up one more time. I was pretty sure they would consider my quickie Vegas wedding as a ‘fuck up’.

“Yes, I paid attention yesterday,” I admitted. I was so screwed. Pam called in a lot of favors, not only to get me on that sitcom, but so I could also meet up with the director of a surefire blockbuster movie in a few weeks to read for the lead part. I wanted that part more than anything and the thought that I’d screwed it all up bothered me more than I thought possible.

Pam forgot about me for the moment and turned back to Sookie saying, “A kindergarten teacher, huh? That’s pretty wholesome.” The way she’d said wholesome made it sound exactly the opposite of wholesome.

“What’s your point?” she snapped back. I was kind of impressed at her gumption considering she’d just been Pam’d, but then I remembered what a bitch she was and figured it was just a part of her flawed character.

“My point is, my job is to keep Eric employed despite his fuckery and he committed massive amounts of fuckery last night, potentially to the detriment of his career. You enabled his fuckery therefore you owe us.”

“And just what in the hell do you think I owe any of you?”

A small part of me was wondering what Pam had up her sleeve, but the rest of me was thinking, ‘Yep, the lovely bride is still a bitch.’

“I need you to answer some questions for me first and depending on your answers, I might have a, pardon the pun, proposal for you.”

What in the hell would she want from Sookie other than her signature annulling our marriage?

I waited for Sookie to tell Pam to go fuck herself, but when she finally spoke she said, “Ask me.”

“Ever been arrested?”

“No.”

“Any addictions?”

“Sunbathing.”

She did have a pretty nice glow about her.

“You’ll age prematurely!” Pam was aghast at the idea. She wanted to be twenty-five forever, even though she was already older than that.

“I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. I doubt they’ll care how old I look when they’re scraping me off the pavement.”

Shaking it off, the thought of aging prematurely, not getting hit by a bus, Pam continued.

“Former marriages?”

She sighed before answering, “No.”

“Why did you sigh?”

“Why does it matter? Why do any of these questions matter?”

Pam shot me a look I knew all too well. I was to remain quiet no matter what came out of her mouth, but she usually only used it when negotiating deals for me. But, there was no deal to be made here…right?

“I’d like to propose a deal with you. Eric needs to not look insane and quite frankly, he does at the moment. I asked you those questions because at this very moment your entire history is being dug into by every celebrity reporter and paparazzo you can imagine. Your friends and family are going to be offered huge amounts of money to offer up every skeleton you’re hiding in the closet. Eric marrying you is a done deal, so I can’t replace you. I need to know everything about you that can possibly damage Eric’s reputation even further so I can minimize whatever it was.”

What in the hell was Pam talking about? She made it sound like I would be staying married to that bitch which wasn’t about to fucking happen.

“You make it sound like I’m staying married to that asshole,” she said.

“Just for one year.”

“NO!” Our screams were simultaneous.

Pam huffed before saying to Sookie, “Give us a moment please?” and then turned to me commanding, “Eric. Follow.”

I would have ignored her crazy ass if I hadn’t wanted to know what the fuck she was thinking so bad, so I got up and followed.

As soon as we were in the bedroom, she shut the door and asked, “Do you know what a community property state is?”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you know what a prenuptial agreement is?”

I fucking hated when she answered questions with more questions. I was gearing up to let loose on her, threats of being Pam’d be damned, when her questions started to sink in. I got married without a prenup. I lived in California and since The Brigant Academy was there, she more than likely did too. She could fight me for half of everything I had.

I looked at Pam in a panic and she smiled saying, “Oh, those little hamsters are getting a real workout in there today. Now keep your mouth shut and listen; you need to make it look like you really meant to get married and not like you were filming your new “Eric’s Gone Wild” DVD or else you might as well start working on your stand up routine because the only way you’ll appear on TV again will be telling jokes about Lisa Lampanelli’s ginormous twat on Comedy Central’s Roast. We’re going to find out what her price is and I’ll negotiate it in half; she’s going to move into your house; you’re going to be seen taking her out to dinner, holding hands and looking all lovey dovey for the cameras; you’re going to fucking look like a grown up for one whole year and then you two can have irreconcilable differences and get divorced. By then, everyone will have already seen you as stable for once in your life and you’ll get the movie roles you want while keeping the TV job you need.

“But..” I began to protest, but Pam cut me off.

“Do you want that movie role you’re reading for in a few weeks?”

Fuck! I was so fucking fucked!

“Yes.”

Pam knew I’d caved so she merely walked back out of the bedroom without another word with me following behind her like the brainless twit I felt like. Sookie and her friend were standing in the far corner of the room having their own heated conversation, but consisting entirely of whispers. A few minutes later they seemed to have come to some sort of conclusion because they turned and came back towards us, sitting down on the couch.

Sookie spoke first asking, “For one year?”

“Yes,” Pam replied coolly.

“Okay.” Okay? Was she nuts?

“That’s it?” Pam asked doubtfully.

She seemed to steel herself before answering, “No, I have conditions or else there’s no deal.”

I threw myself down onto the couch wondering just how much she was going to fucking cost me now. I knew there was a reason I never bought the fucking cow before.

 

3 comments on “Chapter 4

  1. Gina says:

    Pam busting Eric’s balls is priceless

  2. lilydragonsblood says:

    pam is so fabulous….. x

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