♥  ♥  ♥

The party was all my brother’s idea. I didn’t want to make a bigger fuss than I already had over this whole thing, but Jason insisted on doing it. Personally, I think he wanted to reap more spoils of my victory, but then what else was new? He liked to take credit for my culinary skills, insisting that it was his outrageous, never sated appetite that forced me to help Gran with the cooking when we were kids.

It turned out I had a talent for it so it was what I pursued. I pursued it in that I paid close attention to what Gran did in the kitchen and when I applied for a job at Merlotte’s it was to be a line cook instead of a server. I learned a lot from Lafayette, his ‘executive chef’, and not just about food. Lafayette and I became fast friends, and it was because of him that I found the courage to really pursue what I wanted.

In a small town like Bon Temps, even at this day in age, there were still the breed of old school, racist redneck that refused to die off no matter how hard we tried to get them to go away. Lafayette was double whammied when he was born not just black, but gay. I never had a problem with him being either of those things, thanks in large part to Gran, but then, as I said, I learned a lot from him that had nothing to do with cooking or food.

I looked around the bar where I had cut my teeth in the culinary world, professionally speaking, and my heart felt heavy with Lafayette’s absence. All I saw of him was a picture on the wall—a memorial to someone that had been such an integral part of making Merlotte’s what it had become, and a dear friend to many of us that had been taken too soon. It wasn’t really a secret that Lafayette was dealing on the side; it was more like one of those well-known things that no one really talked about, but it was whispered enough.

To this day no one’s really sure what happened the night he was murdered, other than he ended up with two thirty-eight slugs in his head. He died instantly, the medical examiner speculated, and didn’t have a chance to feel any pain. His killer is still free but I’m determined to find out who did it someday. I just wish we had more leads as to who was responsible.

“You okay, Sookie?” Sam asked, appearing at my right side. “You should be excited.”

“I am, Sam,” I said with a weak smile. “I just wish Lafayette was here to see this.”

“Me too, chér, me too,” Sam agreed.

Sam kissed my cheek before moving on. I watched him move through the crowd and a part of me wondered what my life would be like if the one date we went on had turned out differently. Sam was a good man. He owned a successful business and he was one of the best friends I could ever ask for. We had tried to propel our relationship into a new arena, but it just wouldn’t work. He kissed me once and it was enough for me to know I didn’t feel that thing. There was no spark.

To save us both from a lot of angst and embarrassment, I’d told him right after that as much as I valued his friendship and wished I could see him differently, he was just my friend. It was harder for Sam to accept in the beginning, but we got past it. I think my honesty salvaged our friendship and kept us from going down a road full of heartache.

I heard the throaty laugh of Alcide Herveaux and turned my head. There he was, with his arm around his fiancé, Debbie Pelt. My blood boiled and my stomach turned to see them together. I had no right to be angry. I knew when I got involved with him that he was with her, but it was one of those things where I just couldn’t stop myself. He had hit on me. He had made promises to me. I had foolishly believed him when he told me that he was going to leave her, that I was the one he wanted.

Yet, he never left her. There was always some reason or excuse why he couldn’t break things off. Her father had a heart attack. Her sister turned up pregnant after a short fling with a bad boy. She was too emotionally unstable for him to leave her. There was always something and after eight months of fooling around with him, I realized I was always going to be his sidedish. So I cut him loose.

I deserved better than the crumbs he was throwing my way and I wasn’t going to stand for it anymore.

My newfound conviction didn’t make getting over him any easier. It still hurt. I had seen glimpses of what our lives could be together, but until he was willing to cut the cord it wasn’t going to happen. I was just going to continue to be the one that didn’t get to celebrate his good days in life; I would never be the one he took home to meet his family. I was his dirty little secret, the one that would prevent him from ever running for office. To my knowledge, Debbie didn’t know anything about the affair I’d been having with Alcide and I knew he wanted to keep it that way.

“Sook, come on, the show’s about to start,” Jason took my hand and started to pull me closer to the large flat screen hanging on the wall.

“Jase, it’s okay. We already know how this ends,” I reminded him.

My brother had been there for the taping. Six weeks ago I had been contacted by the Food Network to be on a show called Down Home Cooking. I had been taken completely by surprise by it. My restaurant was just getting off the ground when Lafayette was murdered three years ago, but in that time it had grown by leaps and bounds. I suppose you could say that my restaurant specialized in comfort and soul food, being that it was on the fringes of Shreveport, Louisiana. I took the recipes that Gran had been making for decades and used them in my restaurant.

It was a huge success that I partially attributed to my wait staff since they were all so welcoming and friendly. Who wants to eat at a place where the waitresses treat you like trash? Even if the food is great, it becomes less and less worth it after a while.

But I digress. I was contacted by the network and even though I was blown away, I could hardly pass up the opportunity to be on its show. Our best selling item was Gran’s mac ‘n cheese. I made tray after tray of it, and it was the first thing people had requested we put on a catering menu, followed by our fried chicken and pecan pies. The business was booming, and I was actually anxious to get back to work. The only reason I was at Merlotte’s was because I knew Gran would think it rude not to show up at a party being thrown in my honor.

Even from beyond the grave, Gran ruled my decision making. She had been my moral sounding board—with the exception of the affair I’d had with Alcide. Whenever I found myself having a quandary, it was Gran’s way of thinking that I always turned to. In fact, it was partially because of her that I finally found the strength to leave Alcide once and for all.

“Yeah, I know. We all know, but you should say something,” Jason insisted.

I rolled my eyes but let him drag me up to the front of the room where the TV was. Folks started clapping for me and I waved them off.

“Y’all hush. Thank you for coming out here today,” I said and saw the light of the bar door opening in my peripheral vision. “I appreciate y’all’s support and for being so loyal to my food. I—” I stopped short when I registered the tall, blond man parting the crowds.

What the hell was he doing here?

♥  ♥  ♥

I couldn’t stay away. I didn’t know what her situation was, but I needed to see her again. Six weeks ago I had been sent down here to Louisiana to surprise Sookie Stackhouse with a mac ‘n cheese throwdown. The show had me challenging the best of the best with any certain food to see who was better at making it. The chefs always had their way of doing it, but I had mine.

Up in New York, I owned three very successful restaurants, and had been working with the Food Network for quite some time. I had even competed to be an Iron Chef, but realized that I wouldn’t really have the time for it. Running my restaurants was enough for me. I was the first competitor to ever drop out of the competition. The restaurants were my babies. I had been trained by some of the best chefs in the world and I had held several executive positions before opening my first restaurant. It was hard work but I loved it. I loved everything about it, from creating menus to trying out new dishes to hiring staff and coming up with a concept… it was all I ever wanted to do from the time I was a little kid.

And I was good at it. I was a decorated chef and I’d worked hard for everything I had. No one had handed me anything, despite the trust fund family I had come from. My parents had expected me to get an ivy league education and follow in my father’s footsteps to get into finance. Thank fuck I didn’t do that since the market went to shit and my father was damn near suicidal when the business he had been at the helm of for nearly thirty years found itself praying for a government bailout.

When I had suggested that maybe he should take a pay cut (dropping a zero from his salary would hardly kill him) he looked at me like I was insane. I knew it for a long time before that, but his reaction confirmed for me that I wasn’t nearly capitalist enough to enjoy the kind of work he did. Yes, I was successful in a monetary way, but I didn’t do what I did for the money; I did it because I had to.

There was no life for me without being in the kitchen. I would go insane if I had to sit behind a desk and crunch numbers or move funds around all day. That’s just not what I was put on this earth to do.

My work with the Food Network has just been a feather in my cap, and I’ve gotten to meet so many interesting people and go to many interesting places in the United States that I wouldn’t probably go if it wasn’t for Throwdown. The show was what led me to Shreveport, Louisiana and to a little restaurant called The Hummingbird. It was owned by Sookie Stackhouse and had become one of the most highly sought after places to eat in all of northwestern Louisiana. The restaurant’s reputation had extended into southern Arkansas and eastern Texas.

When the crew arrived down there to start taping with Sookie, there had been lines around the block to get a table. I thought it was just because it was a Sunday when the crew arrived to start filming. I was wrong. It was like that every day. From the time they opened at seven in the morning until they closed at eight every night, the restaurant was packed. They didn’t take reservations and despite the restaurant being two stories, it seemed like there were never enough tables.

It was impressive to see such a large turnout on a daily basis. Even more impressive was the gorgeous blonde in charge of the joint. Sookie Stackhouse was a knockout. The first time I laid eyes on her something in me clicked. I loved the southern lilt to her voice and how awkward and adorable she was in front of the camera. Unlike a lot of chefs I met, she didn’t display the trademark arrogance or superiority a lot of them did. She was humble, sweet and very appreciative of the attention she was getting.

I liked her immediately.

I got to see the dailies and her method for making the secret Stackhouse family recipe for mac ‘n cheese. The more I heard Sookie speak, the more I liked her. Without even being in the same room with her or talking to her myself, I could tell she was different from the women I was used to in New York. I was fairly well known thanks to the amount of time I’d gotten on television, but it seemed to go one of two ways when it came to meeting women. Either they knew exactly who I was and pretended not to, or they made it obvious they knew who I was and were hoping to latch onto that.

Either way I was usually turned off by them immediately.

It was for that reason that I had developed a bit of a reputation for being a snob where women were concerned. I’d dated a few actresses or models and it was mostly because they weren’t interested in using me to further their fame. They were celebrities in their own right. They were comfortable being in front of cameras, but they didn’t need me to get their name out there.

Of course that came with its own set of problems. When I started dating Freyda, a country singer originally from Oklahoma whose grandmother had been a rather well known actress during Hollywood’s Golden Age, the tabloids had gone crazy with it. It hardly seemed like a day went by when we weren’t being hounded. I didn’t know what made us so interesting until about two years into our relationship I discovered that Freyda was the one tipping off the paparazzi where we were going to be.

I definitely didn’t see that coming and didn’t understand why Fredya was doing it, but she refused to stop. For some reason I hadn’t anticipated her being a fame whore, but I should have. She had intentions of breaking out of singing to get into acting, and she hoped that by being in the press more often her face would become more recognizable to a much bigger audience. It worked, but I dumped her since I wasn’t interested in being a prop in her PR machine. I loved her, for a while, but not enough to put up with shit like that.

I wasn’t interested in being famous; I just wanted to cook and run my restaurants.

So for the last year or so I’ve been single. I’ve been focused on my businesses and up until I saw Sookie, I had no interest in getting involved with someone. When I arrived in Louisiana, however, I was sure I wanted to get to know her better. The look on her face when she saw me walk through the large crowd that had gathered outside her Bon Temps home was priceless. She was wearing an old school, frilly apron that probably belonged to previous generations of women in her family. She’d covered her face with the skirt of it to hide her embarrassment. When she lowered it, her face was red and she looked like she was going to cry.

She had accepted the challenge with grace and had welcomed me with the hospitality I would expect from any southern belle.

When we were finished taping the episode I figured that would be the last I saw of her, but there I was, standing just a few feet away from her. She looked just as beautiful as I remembered, and the way she was gaping at me made me hope that she was feeling the same about seeing me again. I smiled and nodded at her, then stood in the crowd to wait for her to continue her speech.

“I uh… I’m honored that you’re all here and that you’ve been so supportive. So thanks for coming and enjoy the show,” she said.

The crowd started clapping and cheering, which made Sookie’s cheeks go adorably red. She got a hug from her brother, then the crowd started mingling again. I quietly made my way over to Sookie, and when she was done talking to a girl who’d come up to hug her I tapped her shoulder.

Sookie turned around and her blush returned when she looked up into my eyes.

“Hi,” she breathed barely above a whisper.

“Hi,” I smiled down at her, and then stooped to wrap her in a hug. I took a deep breath and realized that I had missed her smell more than I thought. She wasn’t laden with perfume, she simply smelled like her soap and shampoo.

“Wha… what are you doing here?” Sookie asked nervously when she pulled back.

“Can we go somewhere and talk real quick?”

I don’t know how she’d feel about us talking about, well, us in front of all her family and friends.

She looked around for a moment and her expression changed when her eyes landed somewhere, but then her spine seemed to stiffen and she said, “Sure. We can go back to the kitchen.”

I smiled and said, “Lead the way.”

Sookie took my hand and guided me through the crowd with a few people gasping in surprise at seeing me there. When we got to the kitchen she pulled me all the way to the walk-in and let go of my hands to rub her arms in the cold.

“So, what’s up?” she asked casually.

“I came back because I couldn’t stay away,” I said. “I didn’t really like how we left things.”

Sookie looked down with a shamed look on her face.

“Yeah, I’m not proud of that either. I uh… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” she trailed off.

My brow furrowed and I asked, “You’re sorry? For what?”

“I had a moment of weakness,” she whispered.

I put my finger under her chin and tilted her face up so she’d look at me.

“It was a pretty great moment though, wasn’t it?”

She smiled just a little and said, “It was, but–”

“Nope,” I said. “No buts. I don’t regret it for a second.”

“Eric, I don’t regret it, believe me…” she trailed off again. “I just… my reasons were all wrong and I never thought I’d see you again.”

I dropped my hand and asked, “Does that mean you didn’t want to see me again?”

“No, that’s not what I meant it’s… I um…”

The walk-in door opened and her brother stuck his head in.

“Sook, the show’s on,” he informed us. “Hey, Eric! Good seein’ ya again, man. Sook didn’t tell me you was comin’.”

“Jase, we just need a minute here, okay?” Sookie asked.

“Alright, but make it quick. Folks are askin’ after ya,” he said, and looked to me. “You stickin’ around to watch the show, man?”

“Yeah, I got a hotel room and everything. Can’t leave without eating here again,” I smiled.

“Sweet. Good to see ya,” Jason said, and then closed the door.

I looked at Sookie again and said, “Why don’t we go watch the show and talk after the party?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed and quickly walked out of the walk-in.

“Hey,” I said, and grabbed her arm. “Wait a second.”

Sookie turned her head to look at me and there were tears in her eyes. “Yeah?”

My plan to kiss her went out the window when I saw the tears. I had no idea why she was so upset, but I didn’t like it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked with concern, bringing my hand up to touch her cheek.

“Now’s not the time,” she said. “After the show’s over we’ll talk.”

“Alright,” I said, and when a tear fell from her eye I brushed it away with my thumb. “I’ll go on ahead.”

Sookie nodded and closed her eyes as I walked by her.

“Eric?” her voice stopped me.

“Yeah?” I asked, and turned to look at her.

“I really am happy to see you,” she said with a genuine smile.

I smiled back and said, “Ditto, Stackhouse.”

♥  ♥  ♥

I watched Eric walk away and hauled ass for the bathroom to fix my face. As I was leaning over the sink, looking into the mirror, the bathroom door opened. I looked to my right to see Alcide standing there.

“What are you doing in here?” I demanded. “Shouldn’t you be with your fiance?”

“What are you doing with Eric?” he demanded right back, ignoring my question.

“None of your business. You had your chance and you decided you wanted to stay with Debbie. What I do isn’t your business anymore. Go away before I scream,” I told him. I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit. I had enough on my mind with Eric’s sudden reappearance.

“Sookie, you know I lo–”

“Don’t!” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare tell me you love me when we both know you’re going to go right back to her. I’m done, Alcide. Done.”

I had more to think about than just me and I couldn’t afford to let Alcide suck me back in. Not now, not ever. Even if there was a part of me that wanted to run right to him.

“Fine,” he growled and turned to leave.

I took a few deep breaths once he was gone, and felt proud of myself for holding my ground. I had been so weak for him for so long and I wasn’t going to keep holding myself down. I needed to move forward and if I played my cards right, my future might just be sitting out in the dining area of the bar. I fixed my face as much as I could and then left the bathroom.

The show was just getting to the part where there was some bantering going on between Eric and me. I was a professional trash talker when necessary, thanks to having grown up with Jason. The banter had come from some pretty serious sexual tension that ended up boiling over after we were finished taping. I had invited Eric to come and take a tour of The Hummingbird around closing time. We ended up drinking a few too many beers and as a result, I ended up back in his hotel room.

It was, by far, the best sex I’d ever had and not just because it had been almost a year since the last time I’d had sex. He was sweet and passionate and every time he touched me I felt like I was on fire. But if I was being honest, I had made the decision to go back to his hotel room because I was angry at Alcide, who had given me the stink eye all through taping. He picked up on the tension between Eric and me, and he didn’t like it.

So just to prove to myself that I was over Alcide, I went back to Eric’s hotel with him. I didn’t regret it and I never would, but my reasons for it were all wrong. If things hadn’t turned out the way they did, I might be okay with it. As it is, I have a secret I have to tell Eric. I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friend. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell him, but I supposed it didn’t matter anymore since he was here.

My time was up.

I stood beside my brother while the show aired and during the commercial break people came over to talk to me. I knew everyone in town, having grown up there, and so conversation was easy. I glanced over at Eric, who was sitting with Sam, and signing the occasional autograph or smiling for the occasional picture. My heart sank a little, knowing he was so deeply rooted in New York and I was so deeply rooted in Louisiana. I had no idea how things would ever work for us as a couple, which was part of what made him the ideal one night stand. I had assumed that once he was gone, that would be it.

God had other plans, apparently.

Everyone in the bar already knew the ending. I had beaten Eric in the throwdown he’d challenged me to. His food was excellent, but he had nothing on Gran. I didn’t feel like I could take any credit for the food I’d made since it was her recipe; I had just followed it.

When the winner was announced, the crowd cheered and I looked over at Eric to see him smiling and applauding. It was suggested that Eric and I take a few pictures together, which he was great about, so I slapped on a smile and posed beside him.

“You’re a good loser,” I smiled at him.

“I know when to be humble,” he smiled back. “You’re better, fair and square.”

“I have my moments,” I shrugged.

After all of the pictures were taken, I gracefully excused myself, citing the need to get back to the restaurant since it was always busy. I hugged my brother and thanked him for putting the party together. I wondered how in the hell Eric knew to find me at Merlotte’s, of all places, but assumed that Amelia probably told him. Amelia, my manager, had a notoriously big mouth, and she was the only person I had told about my hook up with Eric.

Eric followed me out of the bar and as I walked toward my car I said, “I do need to get back to the restaurant, but we can talk at my house for a little bit if you want.”

“Would you mind if I tagged along to the restaurant too? I could use a good meal.”

“Uh, sure,” I said nervously. He might not want to after I told him what I needed to say.

“I’ll follow behind you,” he said, and grabbed my hand to give it a squeeze.

“Okay. It’s not too far from here.” I took my hand back and quickly got in my car. I was so fucking nervous I could barely get my key in the ignition. It was a good thing home was so close to the bar.

Eric followed behind me in what I assumed was a rental car. He parked beside me when I pulled up to Gran’s old farmhouse. She’d left it to me in her will. She’d died five years ago in her sleep from a massive stroke. At least she didn’t suffer. I envied her that and was grateful to know she didn’t even have a chance to know something was wrong before she went. I got out of the car and watched Eric unfold himself from behind the wheel of the rental car he was driving.

“This is still the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen,” he smiled.

“Thank you. It’s been in my family for generations,” I said as I lead him up to the front door.

“It’s obviously been well taken care of.”

“Ah, that was all Gran’s doing. We didn’t have much growing up, but she always made sure to take good care of her home.” I unlocked the front door and gestured for him to go inside.

He stepped inside and then waited for me to follow. I left the door open since it was a nice day outside and I liked having the breeze moving around the house.

“Would you like the tour?” I offered.

“Sure,” he smiled, and stuffed his hands in his front pockets.

“Okay. Well, this is the living room,” I pointed to the right, but moved to the left. “This is the dining room. Back here is the kitchen,” I said as we walked through the dining room into the kitchen.

On the fridge was a big clue to what my secret was. A sonogram picture, my first of many. I didn’t point it out but I didn’t try to hide it either.

“So this is where the greatest mac and cheese was invented, huh?” he asked. “I like the feel of it in here.”

“Yep, this is it,” I nodded. “I like it in here too. I did some upgrading on the appliances after the restaurant started turning a profit, but I feel like changing it too much would be bad luck.”

“Stick with what works,” he said, and leaned against the counter. He looked around the room and then his eyes landed on the fridge.

“It’s what got me to where I am. I haven’t changed a thing about the recipes and people seem to love them.” I told myself not to get flustered and nervous but it was hard not to when he started walking closer to the fridge.

My name was clearly printed on the picture and even though there wasn’t much to see yet, it was obvious there was a little something there. Something with a strong heartbeat that was due to arrive by the end of the year.

Eric leaned closer to the picture, then turned to smile at me.

“Expecting someone new in the family soon?” he asked. “I didn’t know Jason was with anyone.”

“He’s with a lot of someones,” I said with a small smile. “He’s sort of known for it. But um… he’s… he’s only expecting a niece or a nephew.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “I didn’t know you had another sibling.”

“I don’t,” I said quietly, waiting for it to hit him.

“Well then who…” he stopped short and looked like someone had just hit him in the head with a mallet. “You?”

I nodded and said, “I found out last week. I was trying to figure out how to tell you, if I should tell you… I haven’t told anyone. You’re the first to know.”

My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. My hands were sweating and I could hardly breathe. I had no idea what his reaction was going to be, if he wanted kids or how this would fit into his life but there it was. I was pregnant and Eric was the father.

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