Disclaimer: Twilight and everything pertaining to it, is the property of Stephenie Meyer and I have no intention of claiming it as mine.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a revision of a story I posted under a different penname, crazierthanu. If you read the original story, I have decided to make an important character change. I was curious to see how a revised version of the story would work.

Tall?

Grande?

Venti?

?

I never went downtown, especially by myself, but I had received this certificate for a haircut at a salon in the trendy area of Toronto-Yorkville - for my last "big" birthday - so I called and made the appointment. I almost made it to the spot but I was too embarrassed to go through with it. I just couldn't make one foot step in front of the other to make it up the stairs to their front door. Surely they'd never seen anyone so hideous and they'd laugh behind the mirrors at me.

Did you see her?

Can you believe someone who looks like that has the nerve to go out in public?

What could she possibly be thinking?

Nope, I couldn't do it. Part of me tried to ignore my insecurity.

Who cares what anybody thinks?

What does it really matter?

I felt numb as I walked down Yonge Street. My mind was blank. There were so many people moving in both directions and I wasn't really walking with the flow, so people were passing by me, exasperated.

I'm sorry. I want to stop, but where? There's no place that's not going to block these robots on their way to work or shopping.

Shopping.

I knew the Toronto Eaton Centre should be coming up and I decided to duck in there to shop. My feet hurt. My heart was pounding in my chest – anxiety. Again.

Relax, it'll be over soon.

Where is it?

It's taking so long.

This section doesn't feel safe.

I remembered walking through the same general area a few years before with my daughter. We had been looking for the Eaton Center; I also remembered it was a really long walk. I didn't feel good in this part of town.

It can't be that much farther…

Instead, I found a Starbucks and decided I would have a coffee. By myself, of course. Thankfully, I had brought a magazine with me to read on the train ride into the city.

I slipped in through the glass doors as a young couple, deep in conversation about their favourite band's newest hit were stepping out, oblivious to my presence.

Oh no. It's almost my turn.

Anxiety.

I never knew how or what to order. And there was never enough time to read the board for the selections.

Tall?

Grande?

Venti?

Cappuccino, Americano, Caramel Macchiato? Frappachino?

What the hell were they thinking when they made up their menu? Do they want to make people look like idiots? They must. Maybe there were hidden cameras and they all had a big laugh on their training sessions or staff meetings.

In the end, I always ordered the same thing every time. That way I couldn't screw it up.

"Tall cappuccino wet. Oh, right-tall wet cappuccino."

The teen-aged girl behind the counter fought her smile, and from bursting into hilarious laughter, I'm sure.

Wrong again.

I rolled my eyes, wanting to smack my forehead with my palm. I refrained from doing so only because I knew it would probably cause the poor girl to totally lose it. She really wasn't looking amused. She looked annoyed, probably because it was taking me so long to utter the correct words.

"Yeah, that." I concentrated on my wallet, placing it in front of me on the counter to pull out the correct change. I hated when I had too much change in my wallet; it was hard to close the zipper when thathappened.

Blushing, I turned my attention to finding a place to blend into the crowd.

I couldn't believe when I immediately saw a chair that was free. That never happened for me.

Can I get to it before someone else can grab it?

My impatience grew as I waited for my beverage.

"Grande non-fat latte?"

Nope.

My eyes darted from side to side, waiting for someone to claim the order. Relief flooded through me as a hairy arm reached from my left to wrap around the large cup.

"Venti chai latte?"

No, not mine.

I began to worry my lower lip as I twirled my hair nervously, thinking they were going to miss my order, and then I'd have to go through the whole horrible ordering experience again.

"Grande dry cappuccino?"

Close enough, I'll take it.

Trying to appear nonchalant, I quickly picked it up after glancing around me, seeing nobody close by. But in my haste, the hot liquid jumped out of the cup and landed on the counter, only to bounce onto my white blouse.

The barista raised his brows with an odd expression on his face, clearly not amused by my misadventure.

"You okay there, ma'am?"

My cheeks, judging by the heat I felt, were quite possibly crimson at this point; I giggled awkwardly. Although I was used to this type of thing happening to me, it usually didn't happen in public.

"Yup, I'm good."

The chair was still open and located perfectly in the corner of the store. I sighed in relief with the certainty that I could just melt into the background to read or watch the people come and go.

They all seem to know what they're ordering. How do they do it?

I was envious of them.

My mind was still wandering, unable to focus on my magazine, when I noticed some kind of hub-bub starting in the café. There was a stream of massive men walking in and they were positioned like bricks in a wall, clearly protecting someone from every angle. Whoever was in the center of group was completely surrounded.

What are they doing in here? They're scanning everybody in the place.

I was too curious to consider that their odd appearance could be dangerous. If I had stopped to think about it, I was sure anxiety would have reared its ugly head. Instead, my eyes darted right toward the group, trying to follow the intense scrutiny of the guards.

The counter staff was suddenly looking very nervous and gathered together so they all could hear the order. It looked to me like they might all try to be the first to complete the request.

That's really weird. But then again, this was downtown. Maybe it's someone well-known. I can't see past the wall. Oh well, maybe I'll ask someone before I leave.

It would have been good to have an interesting story to tell when I got home.

Home. Although there's nobody there anymore. Just the cat - Tori. She just wants to eat all the time. That's all she needs me for.

Having no one but the cat to tell any story to, I tried to read my magazine once again, while sipping at my… whatever.

"Excuse me, can I use this chair?" It was a quiet, warm voice. A man's voice. I didn't know if I should look up. He probably wasn't talking to me.

Is there a chair at this table?

I snuck a peek without lifting my head. There was. I lifted my chin, just a bit, in case I was the one being spoken to, and nodded.

It was then I caught a tiny glimpse of him. A young man. Nice looking.

"Thank you," he said. I gave a slight grin, maybe not a grin so much as lifting the corners of my mouth slightly.

"Leave Out all the Rest" by Linkin Park was playing on the music system in the café, and even though I loved music, I didn't understand why the song of the moment was suddenly so important.

He sat down at my table. He had a tea.

Tall?

Grande?

Venti?

Earl Grey? Chai? Rooibos?

I continued to read my magazine. I didn't want to bother him, and I couldn't imagine I'd have anything of note to say anyhow. The seldom and very odd times I'd ever actually talked with random men, I had been met with curious stares and awkward silence. The lack of interaction had unnerved me and I didn't wish to go through that again – especially with someone this good looking.

One of the bodyguards was standing in close proximity to the man sitting across from me. I doubted anyone could see him through the girth of his protector. I certainly couldn't see past any of the guards that I realized were now surrounding us and I was suddenly annoyed by this intrusion. I did want to people-watch during my reading session

I cast my eyes down to hide my frustration.

"I'm sorry. Do you mind if I sit here?" His voice was so smooth, articulate, professional sounding. It reminded me of someone you'd hear on the radio.

"Sure, no problem," I answered as I lifted my head to meet his gaze. "I was about to leave soon, anyway." I really wasn't ready at all. I was a slow drinker and I wasn't even halfway done with my… beverage. I was too uncomfortable being trapped in the middle of his micro-managed scenario to enjoy myself and thought it best to remove myself as quickly as possible, but I was reluctant, curiosity had me in its hold. I could not help peeking up from my reading.

He sipped his tea, his mind seemed to be on other faraway things.

Stop staring at him, you idiot.

He's quite handsome.

You'll scare him.

There's something about him, pulling me.

Put your head down and leave, don't be an idiot.

I felt awkward and put off by the intrusion to my little piece of sanity. I started to rise up out of my comfortable chair.

I'll find somewhere else to sit, maybe I'll walk to the small park-like place near the CBC building, or there might be something to sit on near the Convention Center.

As I gathered my belongings, I felt self-conscious having the entourage so close. I feared I would trip, or drop something or spill my beverage as I made my way through the manmade barricade. I slipped my magazine under my arm and slung my purse over my shoulder, hitting the plant beside the chair. My cheeks instantly flushed and I bit my lip as I prayed nothing else would happen to further embarrass myself.

I gave a soft smile as 'he' looked up. His brow rose slightly as he noticed me getting up. Our eyes locked again for an infinitesimal period of time, but it was long enough to feel a jolt of electricity pass between us. My eyes widened briefly - as did his - and I quickly turned my gaze away. I was positive his next reaction would be to burst into laughter - just because. After all, why would this older woman think she could entertain the notion of holding the attention of someone of his age, his caliber?

I knew that I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time as that barricade was not going to allow another soul anywhere near to whoever this was they were protecting. I really needed to find out who he was. But the place had quickly filled up with more people, making it impossible to ask anyone at the overly crowded counter.

I squeezed between two of the linebackers, my purse getting stuck on the back of his chair in the process. I wanted to be swallowed up into the ground under my feet as I struggled to untangle the strap without actually touching him. I did manage that but not without being scrutinized carefully by his closest and dearest and I reflexively rolled my eyes, mainly at myself. It was impossible to tell if the bodyguards understood I was venting frustration with myself but they remained still, their faces impassive.

Ugh. More crowds as I stepped onto the sidewalk after struggling to push the heavy glass door open, juggling my coffee cup and my purse strap precariously perched on my shoulder. What time of day isn't it crowded?

I couldn't walk fast because my coffee would spill but at least I knew it wasn't far. I walked in through the first door I arrived at, thinking it was the entrance to the Center, but I found myself in the hotel next to it.

I remembered this place. I'd stayed there once.

I wonder if they'd mind if I just sat for a few minutes? They might not notice, or might just think that I'm one of their guests. I could eat something at their bistro, just so I won't feel guilty.

I decided to finish my coffee first. It was also a great place to people watch but with more room than the coffee shop. I pulled out my magazine again. When I was done with my coffee, I thought I should find the restrooms and then head over to the bistro. I remembered they were downstairs, took the escalator.

As I was riding the stairs, a group of men were on the opposite side, moving up. They looked familiar.

Oh no!

It was that bizarre entourage again. Before I could look away, a pair of large green eyes caught mine. I couldn't drop my gaze. He nodded and gave a half smile in recognition. I might have lifted the corners of my mouth to attempt a smile, but perhaps not in time for him to see it.

Damn. I'm stupid.

Why would he care?

Why couldn't I just look away and save myself the embarrassment?

Shit.

Mercifully, the women's restroom was empty. After washing my hands, much too diligently, I splashed some cold water on my face. The water was colder than I was expecting and I blinked rapidly in shock. A young woman walked in and did a double take before smiling sweetly at me. Lord only knows what she thought. I fumbled for the paper towel dispenser only to find it empty. With my face still dripping and not wanting to get my clothes wet, I spied the hand blow-dryer attached to the wall. The girl walked back out, watching me as I bent over the dryer. Embarrassed by my awkward situation, I pulled back and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I leaned in for a closer inspection.

Oh, god – my hair!

It looked like I had been on a motorcycle – sans helmet – and driven at 80 miles per hour.

And since when did that wrinkle appear? I hate the lighting in here.

I quickly brushed my hair and pulled out my lipstick. It was one of seven I kept in my purse. I needed all the help I could get. I applied the red color to my lips, pressing them together quickly before stepping out again.

As I walked back out into the lobby, a few people were walking toward the men's room.

I looked up again.

No!

What is happening? Why do I keep running into this guy? At least he didn't see me this time.

I began planning yet another escape and thought I could get over to the ice rink through the underground parking garage.

I saw the signs.

"Miss? Miss!" Someone touched my arm.

Oh crap! Did I do something wrong?

The man who stopped me looked like security from the hotel. He was not especially tall, about six-foot-five, if he was an inch, with unbelievably broad shoulders. He was clean cut and dressed all in black. I briefly looked up at him, then lowered my eyes down to his feet. They were twice the size of mine, at least. His voice, however, was not as intimidating as his appearance which made me feel slightly less nervous.

Maybe they'd noticed me sitting in the lobby and it wasn't kosher with them.

What will I say?

I figured an apology was probably the best plan. "I'm sorry if I was trespassing or something, I just needed to sit for a few minutes. I won't do it again."

He looked a bit confused as he spoke to me. "No, Miss. I'm not with the hotel."

Oh, double crap! He's either going to hurt me or steal my purse.

In the confusion of the moment, I couldn't think of another reason for him to be stopping me in the deserted area of the hotel. It was also typical of the luck I had – bad, bad, bad.

I didn't know any self-defense and there wasn't a soul nearby so yelling would be useless.

I'll just give him my purse. Surely, he wouldn't want anything else from me. I could try and make a run for it, back up the escalator.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss." He lowered his hand and I finally realized he hadn't meant to be menacing. " I apologize if I've made you nervous. I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Emmett and I'm with the gentleman you met at Starbucks. He'd like to know if you'd care to join him for a minute in the bistro, upstairs?"

I scanned through my mind for anything that might explain the reason for his request. I came up totally blank. I blinked rapidly for a few seconds and cleared my throat to give myself more time to decide how to answer. "Ummm… I don't know… why? I don't even know who he is, so… I don't think so. Thank you. Thank him. Very much." I started to try to pass him to reach the escalator.

He touched my arm lightly again. "Please. He'd be very disappointed if you didn't come."

It was amazing how friendly Emmett looked in that moment. I couldn't imagine why that green-eyed young man wanted to see me.

Maybe I left something at the table back at Starbucks? That must be it.

"Okay, but just for a minute." Emmett turned and began to walk away, clearly expecting me to follow. I knew I could just turn and go the other way, but I had to admit I was kind of curious.

What did I leave behind?

I started to search my purse while I was walking. I wanted to see what could be missing.

Before I knew it, we had reached the bistro and Emmett led me to the far corner, where I saw a couple of the same bodybuilders from Starbucks standing watch. There was a table behind them, practically hidden from everything else. That same young man was sitting there, looking intently at his i-Phone.

I paused and stood by the table, ready to leave as soon as he allowed it. I cleared my throat, but it didn't make enough noise to alert him to my presence.

I should just leave. It doesn't really matter what I left behind. I can live without it.

I turned my body to turn in order to walk away. My 'friend', Emmett, was right behind me and I smacked into his cement truck of a body.

"Umph!" Embarrassed at having voiced my reaction, my hand quickly covered my mouth. My eyes shot up to meet Emmett's and I let out another noise - a short awkward laugh.

Emmett's face only showed slight amusement, the corners of his lips upturned minutely. I could detect a hint of more in his sparkling eyes which never left mine. He gave a quick lift of one brow and his hands lifted to hold my arms, presumably so I would not fall.

How could he know that clumsy was my permanent state of being so fast?

I slowly turned back around to face the table. The good looking, green eyed, young man was now looking up at me, grinning, from ear to ear.

Ok, now I'm the joke. That's why I'm here. He thought I was funny looking.

I frowned.

"Yes? Did I leave something at the last table?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

His up-until-now pleasant face morphed with the appearance of a frown. He seemed at a loss for words as his mouth opened to speak, then closed again in frustration, letting out a quick exhale. His eyes darted to each of his colleagues before returning to connect with mine.

His words and their meaning slammed into my ears, not sure why but caused me to pause for an abnormal period of time. I couldn't think of a reasonable answer; that I was willing to confess.

"I'm sorry. It must be weird for you, what with my entourage and all. Perhaps I should introduce myself? I'm… Edward Cullen." He held out his hand to mine. I returned the gesture.

"Ummm... I'm Bella." I considered giving him a fake last name, but I couldn't think fast enough to sound convincing. "… Swan."

"How do you do?" My hand lingered in his cool long grasp, and he shook it gently. An odd, yet familiar sensation passed between us, akin to the eye contact we had made at the Starbucks. The way his eyes searched mine in that moment confirmed that he felt it as well.

"Please, have a seat."

"I don't understand why you asked me to come…" I stammered, becoming very nervous as he continued to gaze at me with those incredible eyes.

What could he possibly want from me?

"I'm sorry if I am doing this all wrong…"

What are you doing all wrong?

My head was spinning.

Nothing about Edward was making sense to me.

I know that every now and then something is familiar and it feels like I'm stealing someone's lines from a show or a play or a movie. What the hell am I doing here? Where is "here" exactly?

"Please have a seat. Would you like something to eat or drink?" he crooned, jolting me out of my inner musings. His voice was music to my ears. My brain felt like it was waking up, cell by almost-dead cell. He was looking at me, slight amusement in his eyes. And then he lifted his brows, as if to silently ask the question again.

"Ummm… ok… I'll have some water." I needed water; a lot of water! The server appeared and the handsome man ordered water for both of us.

My mouth was so dry my words were suddenly stuck in my throat. I prayed he didn't ask me anything else between now and the arrival of the liquid which would save me from another hot flash upon my face. I managed to nod or "mhm" at any comments he made until then.

Our drinks arrived unbelievably fast and I downed the water too quickly. Was it awkward? My eyes darted around to the entourage surrounding us. A few of them seemed to have their brow slightly arched as they quickly averted their eyes from me.

Crap.

I was embarrassing myself again.

Suddenly, I was desperate to leave. I felt nauseous and my bowels growled, as if on cue. I hoped nobody heard it. My body was against me.

Pleasemakeitstop.

"Are you sure I couldn't order you a bit of something, maybe a wrap or a bagel?"

"Thank you, but no. I have to get going. By the way, why do you have these bodyguards? Is someone trying to kill you?"

No filter!

He let out a surprised laugh. A few of the entourage let out audible snickers as well.

What?

I hadn't realized I'd become a stand-up comic.

As I was about to stand up to leave, he put his fingers on the top of my hand, gently restraining me.

Please don't touch…

My stomach flipped and a spark went through me. He took my flinch as a sign that I didn't appreciate the gesture, and retreated his hand.

"Can we start again?"

Okay? Why can't he just let me go? What am I doing that isn't giving him the right message? Oh yeah, I'm still there.

He stood up and held his hand out to take mine again. "Hello. My name is Edward. May I sit at your table?" He was charming. I couldn't help the grin from forming on my lips as I slipped my hand into his. I also couldn't help gazing into his eyes – they were an incredible shade of green – as they did not waver from mine for a second. At the same time, a tiny lock of his tousled bronzed hair fell onto his brow. The bronze highlights were especially visible as there was a ray of sunlight beaming in from the outside through the floor to ceiling windows of the bistro. Having not so little trouble focusing on being coherent, I let out a small cough to jar my senses into reacting

"Sure. I'm… Bella. Sure."

I let him shake my hand. I was sure my face was turning red, feeling the heat rear up from my neck.

Calm down, stupid. This will be over soon. You're leaving in one minute. Is trying to be invisible not possible?

"What do you do for work, Bella?" His tone was so kind. It was like a spider, enticing his prey to come to his web.

The thought of giving a stranger information about myself made me nervous, but I decided to make it as generic as possible. My voice lowered into a quiet tone while I fidgeted with my nails.

"I work at an office here downtown, in a doctor's office. What do you do?"

A slow smile spread across his face up to and including his eyes. But he hesitated to answer.

What? What did I say?

I was obviously missing some vital piece of information.

"I'm… in the entertainment field," he revealed cautiously, his brow arched as if he was expecting disbelief. "Actually, I act in movies." He waited for my response as he threaded his long fingers, resting them on the table.

What kind of reaction should I have given him? Amazed? Awed? Blasé? Doubtful? Probably my face gave me away, showing all of those emotions, in order.

Crap. Why can't I act?

"You don't believe me?" He was smiling coyly. He was teasing me.

I wouldn't give to him the satisfaction of reacting with surprise, so I remained calm and shoved my hands into my pockets. "That's great. Is it interesting work? I love movies. What have you been in?"

He looked at me in awe. He might have been doubting my naiveté because he just waited, without answering. Maybe he was trying to think of some fictitious film to impress me with. But when he named it, I had to admit I'd never heard of it.

"Are you sure?" he taunted, incredulous.

"Pretty sure, though sometimes I forget the names of movies I've seen. You're pretty young, is it a kids' movie?"

By now the entourage was all laughing, louder than before.

What? I didn't know it, okay?

Was everyone on this planet supposed to know this guy? I guess I'd been out of the loop for a long time - a really long, long time.

"That's all right. It's probably just not your type of movie. I guess it is for a different demographic. I don't know…" He was struggling with his answer.

Hah!

I finally had him. It was time to leave.

"Thank you for the… um… water." I started to rise. He stood up as well.

Hm… good manners.

"Please, may I have your phone number? I don't mean to be so forward, but I don't often get the chance to socialize outside of my work. And if you're not interested, I'll understand…" he said, embarrassed, giving a half smile - which was quite adorable.

He was younger than me.

Why am I even considering this? How could giving him my number hurt?

I didn't have to do anything, not even answer it. I guess my hesitancy gave him the impression that I would because he took out his phone and tapped away at it for a few seconds. And then looked at me expectantly.

"Your number?"

I stuttered a bit and gave it to him. He immediately hit send and my cell was chirping a Coldplay song.

I was embarrassed, but fished it out of my purse. "Now you have my number!" he said triumphantly.

"Umm, okay, thanks. Bye." Smile, Bella, smile.

He took my hand in his once again and pulled it up to his lips. They are incredibly warm.

Wasn't this a bit much? Who kisses a stranger's hand? What was the point of this display?

You think too bloody much, woman.I could almost feel my inner self standing, arms crossed, staring at me, wondering when did I suddenly start "Brit-speak"?

Stumbling my way through the tables and chairs -who places these chairs in random places around tables, anyway? - and into random people, through the bistro, I found the exit. I was not unnerved a little, but way more than I'd imagined.

I'm almost out. Get… to… the outside.

I needed air… lots of air. Taking several much needed deep breaths as I burst through the doors and onto the sidewalk, I garnered a few odd looks from passersby.

What? Had they never seen a lonely woman who'd been swept off her feet by a movie star she had met at a Starbucks after stealing someone else's beverage from the bar because she had no clue what she had ordered and he had randomly come in off the street with armored body guards surrounding him and stupid enough to allow him to get close to someone who might end up to be a catalyst to his demise?

I was acting like a teen-ager. My stomach was filled with tiny fluttering moths trying to escape. It had been such a very long time since I had felt anything remotely as unnerving as this, but I wouldn't say in a bad way, per se, just different.

No, this was definitely not in a bad way.

A/N: Okay…let me have it. The 'Drill' aka your coveted Reviews!

And my heartfelt thanks to my beta, RandomCran - you are the awesome-est! Ever!