Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to its respectful owner.

"It's not so bad," Jasper murmurs into my ear.

I smirk against his shoulder, letting my eyes dart across the room to all the happy faces. Stick thin models on arms of old CEOs and perfectly made up wives mingling about, their eyes slyly watching our every move. They're looking for a glitch, a wrong step, something to gossip about at their next kitty party. I won't give away anything, although Jasper is clutching me as if I'm going to run away given a little space.

The diamond feels too heavy on my ring finger; the light reflects off of the square cut, and the sheer size of it makes my stomach drop.

My parents' grins are matching the ones on Jasper's parents, and it does bring a small bit of satisfaction, even if their happiness isn't why I'm doing it.

Actually, I'm not sure why I'm doing this.

I'm only twenty six years old, after all; still a little young to worry about being alone. I tried dating, and found out the hard way that when your face is plastered over magazines with your father's annual income, affection is the last thing on the other's mind. In my social circles, marriages aren't dependent on love—they're arranged so the previous and the coming generation will benefit the most on the misery of the generation caught in between.

I grip Jasper's hand tightly, willing him to relax. There's nothing worse than for people to realize that this pending union is forced, especially since the photos have the possibility of appearing on every reputable magazine. It could jeopardize both our careers.

The announcement of our engagement was made a week ago, and it's been a whirl of madness since.

I can feel his shoulder muscles moving underneath my palm—he's easy on the eyes, the curls of his hair falling a little to the side of his forehead and blue eyes so clear that I could drown in them. And he smells like sunny beaches. His form certainly soothes me, and the vision of our married life doesn't look too bad anymore. We've known each other since we were kids; I'm sure we can live peacefully with a good friendship between us.

The fact that I'll be getting Esme as my mother-in-law is an awesome plus; I've always loved her more than Renee. The soft spoken woman never tried to control any aspect of Jasper or Edward's life.

Speaking of the latter, I don't see his unique hair anywhere. That would certainly raise questions—Jasper's own brother not being present for the biggest wedding of the year.

I let my fingers trail up towards his neck, my thumb rubbing circles against the side of it. "Relax a little, would you? I don't bite."

He breathes out roughly, the warm air fanning across my bare shoulder. "I'm trying."

The slow song finishes, and the tension in Jasper's shoulders dissipates. He rolls his shoulders, one hand on the small of my back, leading us back to our table.

I avoid my parents' eyes the entire time, the smile on my face perfectly manipulated. Jasper clutches my right hand, looking every bit like a man in love as people come by to offer congratulations. I don't know most of them; I've only seen them at the social parties that Charlie has dragged me to over the years.

Renee falls into the seat next to me, sagging her weight against my side. "Oh, Bella. I can't tell you how happy I am that you said yes!" I adjust my dress. The photographer at the corner of the room is concentrating just on us.

You say that like I had a choice.

I smile back tightly, downing a thin flute of champagne.

Renee sobers up immediately. "Stop drinking." She turns to Carlisle, fluttering her eyelashes. "She's just having some wedding jitters. She's going to quit soon, though."

I'm tempted to snort into my second glass, but Jasper asks Renee to dance with him, which she happily goes about.

I wonder how sore his feet will be by the end of the song.

As much as my mother wants to believe that she belongs to this world, she doesn't. The only reason Charlie even married her was because bride-wealth had been given to my grandparents when he'd married Elizabeth—the ever so obedient daughter, my aunt. She'd been taken by a car accident long before she could give Charlie an heir. Since bribery—bride-wealth, I mean—had already been distributed, Renee was tamed and auctioned off.

And then I came along.

A disappointment, until Charlie realized how he could turn it into his favor.

He'd been planning this announcement for years, shaping me into his perfect little daughter that shined on every newspaper. I'd done exactly that, as long as my nights were my own, and they'd left me to my own devices without question.

"Hey," Esme whispers, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pressing her cheek to mine in a kiss. She always makes me feel at ease.

"Hey you."

"How are you holding up?"

I lift up my wine glass. "As soon as I finish this one and am on the next, I'll be good."

She gives me a sympathetic look. "Just smile for a few more hours and then you can relax."

"I have to design the interior of the house to my liking by next week."

Carlisle had gifted Jasper and I a house in Malibu, declaring proudly that he would prefer to have his 'little kids' nearby. Which roughly translates to: I'll be watching over you every day so make sure you behave.

"I won't lie, but I'm excited that you'll be marrying my Jasper. He's been through a rough year—"

"Alice," I interrupt.

She continues on as if I'd never said anything. "—And if there's anyone who can bring him back to his old style, it's you."

I glance pointedly at the bar, grinning wildly.

She rolls her eyes, her hand squeezing my shoulder affectionately. "Without the alcohol."

I pout. "That's no fun."

"You can have plenty of fun without getting wasted."

"With this crowd?"

She glances around. "Okay, maybe a little buzz is okay."

We giggle together as waiters bring the assortment of desserts—with the option of fat free—around to the tables.

"I just wish that the wedding wasn't so soon. I need more than a week to process the fact that I'm getting married!"

Esme pats my hand. "It had to be if we wanted to keep Black's involvement out of the presses."

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat before racing at a high speed. "Black? Jacob Black?"

Her eyes widen. "Charlie…Renee didn't tell you?"

"Esme?"

"I was so sure they would," she whispers to herself. Carlisle clears his throat loudly, raising one eyebrow. She grabs my hand, announcing to our table that we'll be powdering our nose, pulling me towards the elevators.

"They were supposed to tell me what?"

The royal blue 'Hotel de la Amoris' logos adorns every door and every door handle. It's the only hotel that my parents would be seen at, and the only hotel that can proudly boast being ranked the top on the edge of Rodeo Drive. I ignore all the greetings and questions from the hotel staff, blindly following after the flailing woman.

She slides her card through the lock key and pushes me in first. The door slamming shut together breaks me out of my stupor.

I spin to glare at her. "What's going on?"

"Shh!"

She pulls me to the middle of her room, pouring two glasses of Johnnie Walker Blue, nursing one immediately. She hands me the other one.

"Esme, what does Jacob Black have to do anything with this?"

She sighs. "Your father came over to dinner last Monday, and he told Carlisle that Billy Black expressed interest in joining their two companies-and interest is putting it lightly."

My breath catches in my throat. The Swan Corporation is the leading name in all things engineering, and the Black Automotives is a rising name in the car industries. Merging the two together would dispel any power struggle against other companies; there would be no competition.

"With the condition that the union be established through marriage. Carlisle hinted that Jasper is ready for marriage, and . . ."

"And?"

"And offered indemnity."

Her eyes are kind, but they can't stop the anger that courses through me. It sounds just like my father to make a deal to profit him. The Cullens own properties of land scattered all over popular vacation spots as well as business areas—Carlisle probably 'gifted' him his favorite vacationing spot in Tahoe to save me from Jacob's clutches. I should've known better than to think he might've arranged this marriage so that I'd be comfortable with a man I'd grown up with.

My phone chirps, alerting me of an email. I fish it out of the inner pocket of my dress, just by my thigh, the vibrations ticklish.

My eyes widen as I read the content. I enlarge the picture and shove it in front of Esme's face, moving silently to pull together the balcony's curtains. Someone had already taken pictures—and taken them completely out of context.

There's a poorly shot photo of Esme tugging me, and my face completely pale despite the makeup with a caption: "Family drama looming halfway into the engagement party? We expected this to happen earlier given the hurried affair!"

Chances are, if our publicist has warned us, he's probably sent the email to Charlie as well. Emmett is every bit adept at handling these types of situations.

"We should go downstairs," Esme suggests.

I finish off the whiskey, the slight buzz in my head making my eyelids droop a bit.

If power is what Charlie wants, he should've asked for it. I send a few picture attachments to Emmett, letting him decide which one he'd like printed out.

.

.

Jasper coos the shot of tequila away, chuckling. "What happened?"

"Charlie happened."

"I heard."

I groan. "So everyone knew except me? That's just peachy."

"Maybe you just didn't want to believe it. It's not like we expected you to, Bella; he's your father."

"You're killing my buzz, Jay."

"Come dance with me."

"We've danced enough that I'm pretty much convinced right now."

"No, not for these people. Let's just dance for us . . . the way we used to when we were little."

He grasps my hand in his warm one, gulping my shot down. The music is more upbeat now, channeling the younger crowd over. They're looking excited, the girls scouting the most eligible young man to dance with. They're shooting sly looks at Jasper, their cheeks reddening at the gossip. It's not something entirely new.

What is new is that I don't like this attention on me at all. I've noticed envious glances before, but they've never bothered me like this.

My steps falter a few times, but Jasper smoothes them out, his hand spanning across my back.

The hairs on my neck rise, my spine straightening instinctively just as Jasper calls out, "Edward!"

.

.

"How did my brother convince you to marry him, Bella?" Edward's eyes smother from above the rim of the wine glass. He's sitting across the table, his smirk painted on his lips. The disarray of hair distorts my focus; it's hard to hold a chain of thought when the only thing I want to do is bury my hands in his locks and pull until he's close enough that our breaths mingle.

Until I can feel his muscles under my hands.

Until I can feel his heart pounding in his chest against mine.

Until I can kiss him senseless.

Until I can push him back onto the bed and—

"Convince him? You should've seen the joy on her face when he proposed!" Renee yelps happily, bouncing in her seat. Charlie grabs her wrist lightly and she calms down immediately, settling to admire the elaborate designs on our wine glasses.

I've lost count on how many I've drunk. I'm quite suspicious that Jasper has been slipping me some lemon juice and ordering grape juice instead of red wine. I'm not quite as buzzed as I'd like to be. I'd prefer to be so wasted that I forget how much I want to lick every inch of Edward.

Especially since I'm sitting next to my fiancée—who just happens to be his brother.

I have half a mind to throw caution to the wind and go for a rumble in the sheets, but the semi-alert part of my brain reminds me of the conversation I had earlier with Esme. I can't hurt the family that tried to save my future—and I even feel a stab of guilt as I remember the pictures that I'd sent in to Emmett. I will myself to calm down; I can trust him to lead me right.

Post-dessert conversation is slow, with the way my stomach knots as numerous women talk about the home coming of the wayward son, some paying special attention to lower their dresses before coming to kiss him on the cheek in welcome.

The only good thing that came out of this is that Jasper is more calm, his hands more touchy as his fingers don't leave my skin at all. They trail across the back of my shoulders before delicately wrapping around an arm, moving up and down. The action that had been previously so soothing is doing nothing but making me wonder how it would feel if Edward had been doing that.

I wonder if my skin would've tightened in anticipation of his next move.

I wonder if my skin would be covered in goosebumps.

I wonder if my heart would pound, whether my hands would itch to touch him.

I push back against my seat, standing up.

"I'd like to go rest now. The dancing has made me tired, and I have an early appointment for my wedding gown tomorrow morning."

Cheerful bids of 'goodnight' ring out, and I don't deny Jasper's hand as he leads me out of the hotel's ballroom. It's not until we're outside and breathing in the fresh air that realization comes of how stuffy it had felt in the air-conditioned room.

"Walk with me?" Jasper asks.

I eye him.

"I know you're not really tired. You just needed to get out of there."

We walk through the back exit, one that is leading towards the clear, man-made lake at the back of the hotel. It looks like a resort with little cabins lining along the water edges for the honeymooners, two-inch boats with lighting wrapped around the metal sitting in the middle.

It's the most romantic thing, yet I'm feeling nothing more than platonic love.

"Did you want to be married by twenty six?"

I shake my head. "I wanted to be settled down by thirty, but I always thought it would be for love."

"Me too."

"I never thought Charlie would sell me out like that."

"Bride-wealth has been a common occurrence in our traditions."

"We're in the twenty-first century, Jay. The only reason this dowry ritual is still carried out is to be different from the rest of the Los Angeles. It's to give the status of elite, of wealth, in a way that shouldn't be warranted."

"And has a lot to do with our family backgrounds," he carries on. "Do you regret saying yes?"

I shake my head in negative again. "I don't, but I wish it hadn't come down to this. Did you want to go through an arrange marriage?"

"Mom told me that love in a relationship makes life worth living. That's why she's never restricted us from anything. That doesn't always work out either."

"What happened between you and Alice?"

The last time I'd seen him was four years ago, before I left for to study for my doctorate's degree, and I'd never seen a happier couple. Alice and I hadn't been particularly close; I'd only known that her father manufactured top brand name accessories. By day, Jasper and Alice hung out with the same crowd as I did at school, too lost in their own little world to notice much else, but by night time, I'd been miles away from them, from this life.

My skin crawls as I think about all those nights at the abandoned underground warehouse, and I want with everything in me to visit them again—the only place that didn't judge me by my name.

It crawls the same way as I think about Edward, but that only serves to make my nerves tangle again.

"She said that she wasted her years on me, that I never appreciated her."

"And did you take her for granted?" I cock up one eyebrow.

"Of course not—well, maybe a little. I got very busy shadowing Dad that I didn't realize I hadn't been giving her enough time."

"Did you explain that to her?"

"She didn't want to listen."

I pat his arm softly, wondering whether Jasper would realize that he'd be pining after Alice for a very long time. I can see it in his expression right now; his eyes did this weird, kicked-puppy-look when he thought about her.

"We should go inside," he suggests.

"You go on." I slip my black heels off, grabbing the ankle straps. "I'll be here for a few more minutes."

He pecks me lightly, hugging me longer than necessary to prove to any lurkers or any photographers of our completely real relationship.

I sit down against the side of the lake, the water so clear that I can see the lights installed at the very bottom. I dangle my feet into it, the chill soothing against the humid, summer air.

"I knew it was all a pretense."

I will myself to remain nonchalant; to not show Edward and he startled me. I should've known better.

"What was?"

"Your good girl act."

I whip my head around to glare at him. He dips to sit beside me, letting his elbows rest on his bent knees. "Excuse me?"

"Please, Bella. Give me a little more credit; you're really marrying my brother?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you don't love him."

I know better than to answer him. His eyes are looking at me like he knows my deepest secrets, like he wants to know my secrets. The water and the light are reflecting in them and he looks like he's from a different world than our own.

Maybe because he is.

He's the wayward son, the one who threw away a century of luxuries and multi-billion dollar company to find happiness amidst the struggles of life. He's lived more in the last ten years he's been gone than the seventy and eighty year olds back in the ballroom.

"Why should I let that dictate who I marry?"

He grins, his teeth shining white against his slightly tanned skin. He looks much more man than he did when I last saw him; and he smells delicious—pure male, with a hint of aftershave and spearmint.

"I remember you wanting to have the Romeo-Juliet kind of love."

"I'm pretty sure I never wanted a relationship that would lead to bloodshed."

He rolls his pretty green eyes. It's astonishing how similar Jasper and him can be, yet they're poles apart, both personality and looks wise. Jasper takes after Carlisle with the blonde hair and blue eyes, but Edward…he's just like Esme, with his unique copper hair and green eyes that could make sparkling emerald gem look flawed.

I'd thought him good looking before, but the word doesn't do him justice. The slight indent between his eyebrows, the tell tale sign of frowning, deepens his intense look. His sun-kissed skin glows against the soft hues of the boat lighting, and I find myself leaning towards him unconsciously.

When he speaks, it's in a soft murmur, almost a purr with his tongue wrapping around each word seductively. It doesn't break me out of his spell as I wonder what other type of things he could do with that organ. "I'm talking about the passionate love, the one you spoke so ardently of. You always claimed to me that you would never marry for convenience." His eyes focus on my lips, and I unconsciously wet my bottom one.

The white shirt underneath his black blazer has two of the top buttons undone. His hand lays just an inch away from mine; I can almost feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

"And yet here you are, doing just what you were so stubbornly against. What changed in the years I left, Isabella?" I snap out of my lust-induced trance. He can be the most charismatic person one second and a complete ass the next. I should've expected this from him. Even as kids, he'd been the rebellious type.

So are you.

I scowl to myself.

"That was when I was sixteen. You don't know anything."

"You mean about Black?" My breath hitches; his grin of triumph makes my flesh sizzle. "I know more than you think."

"Why are you back, Edward?"

He shrugs, looking away. "I'm back for my brother's wedding, of course."

"We both know that's not the reason."

"How so?"

"If you cared about this wedding, you would've been here the day the announcement was made."

"What if I tell you I'm here to stop these stupid nuptials?"

"You still would've been here right after the announcement."

"Perhaps I mean to lead Jasper astray during the Bachelor party."

"And have that end up the talk of the month? You would never jeopardize his future like that, especially after all his hard work to attain his double MBA."

A scowl irks up at the side of his lips. "You act like you know him better than I do. I am his brother, after all."

"I've been here longer than you have." It's a buff, but I pray with all that's in me that he can't tell. There's something about him that brings out a different attitude in me. I can't fathom why or how I could possibly want to strangle him one minute and then jump him the next.

I pull my feet out of the water, grabbing my heels as I gain my balance. At this angle, he can probably see the lacy edges of my boy shorts. I make no show of pulling down my already-too-short dress. "Nice to see you again, Edward; have a good night." I don't wait for a response, but I can't find an excuse as to why I put an extra swing in my hips as I walk away.

One-shot that was donated to the Fandom for Oklahoma. It'll be around three chapters long. FemmeCullen made the banner and DayDreamDreamer beta'd.

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