An Unauthorized Add-On to the Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight or any of the story's many varied characters.
They belong to author Stephenie Meyer. This short story is simply the result of my imagination colliding with my intense love of the Twilight world.
No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made. Only fun is being had here.
-DFD-
ALICE'S INTERVIEW SHOES
"Oh thank goodness, Jazz, you got here just in the nick of time!" Alice threw wide her closet door and for some reason, didn't shout her usual greeting, which happened to be, "Hey, get out of my closet!"
"Err, what do you mean?" Jasper edged suspiciously into Alice's enormous closet. He didn't usually receive a welcome that friendly in this part of the house.
"Well, I need you to tell me which shoes look more amazing on me."
"Oh, Alice… I'll do my best," Jasper's handsome face looked even more nervous. "But remember, I'm a clueless man."
I don't think so, Alice thought, lightly. It had been decades since she first met him, this creature that had popped up in her vision decades ago and with whom she had instantly fallen in love with. And he wasn't a normal, delicious-smelling, thirst-enflaming human man. Instead he was Jasper Cullen, a handsome, pale, golden-haired soldier vampire, aspirant philosopher and daring owner of a Star Wars-type hi-tech motor-bike. Alice was sure that after all the years they've spent together, he would've developed a decent sense of style.
"Ok. First, these blue-black ones." Alice slid her delicate, snowy feet into a couple of intricate high-heeled strappy shoes and instantly rose several inches.
"Wait, what's the occasion?" Jasper walked to the corner of the closet, sat on a navy, lavishly draped armchair in a corner, curled one leg over the other and looked at Alice interestedly. He was all poise and power, strapping shoulders and long legs, like a life-version of Herculean statue.
"My job interview! I already told you! At ten this morning."
"Oh yeah, of course… another one. What for this time?"
Alice had worked several jobs in the past two months, all in the fashion and beauty trade – from makeup artist on a film set to answering phones and booking appointments at a modelling agency.
"Fashion editor at a women's magazine called True Chic."
"Wow, a magazine?" Jasper's face lit up. "That, by far is my most favourite option that you've applied so far. The glamour, the deadlines, seeing your name in print… I wonder why you bothered with all those other jobs."
"I'd try anything, seeing as I'm way overqualified for everything," Alice reminded him, with a wink.
"And you'll be way overqualified for several decades too," Jasper winked back.
"A fashion magazine, still," he thought out loud. "You'll obviously get the position and will finally be able to tell those bullies at Helen Grey Designs to go to hell. Get the last laugh and all."
"Actually, vengeance isn't my style Jazz."
"It's not your fault that you're such an attention grabber. Peanut What's-Her-Name had to be blind and deaf to not notice you!"
For two years, Alice had worked for Helen Grey Designs, a women's high-end fashion design house. She joined the company first as receptionist, and then quickly got promoted to executive assistant when she proved to have an acute ability to fulfil the monster diva-owner Helen's incredibly tricky instructions.
As Helen's assistant, she inadvertently branched out into the design and marketing departments of the company while ensuring that the boss' coffee was the right degree of hot and her mineral water had the right size bubbles. Helen was bowled over. Alice was the most beautiful, reliable and hard-working employee one could have. She was always on call. She knew every celebrity on the planet. She was a fashion encyclopaedia. She had an uncanny knack of predicting what Helen needed before Helen could even express it, plus she had the most exquisite sense of style. Helen just adored her perfect assistant.
Until Alice's perfection overshadowed even the legendary Helen Grey herself. The end of the professional relationship came abruptly during a particularly trying run-through with an even more difficult monster-diva – Helen Grey's social rival and long-time fren-emy, editor-in-chief of the second-most read fashion magazine in the country – Piper Watts.
The whole office was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. None of the garments that Helen had picked to be featured in the magazine were particularly interesting to Piper. Piper had cast a super critical eye over rack after rack, sighing deeply with what Helen feared was boredom. Helen wouldn't know that Piper had no real intention of awarding the coveted eight-page spread that Helen desired to her, and that this run-through was just a power trip intended to crush Helen's self-esteem.
What Piper Watts had not seen coming that day though, was Alice Cullen. The short, thin, pixie-like physique, attired in a men's wear-inspired black and white tux outfit, that hauntingly beautiful face, raven spiky hair adorned with pretty silver accessories and the ballet reflexes with which she sashayed across the room in impossibly high heels, all the while carrying a clipboard in one hand and a phone in another, rapidly issuing some complicated instructions to someone from a delivery service in the tinkling angelic tone of her voice… the overall effect was hypnotic and Piper instantly fell in love, as every other human who met Alice for the first time seemed to.
Shortly after meeting her, and right in front of a mortified Helen, Piper gathered that Alice was an up and coming designer, who was currently learning the ropes from her mentor, Helen Grey. Piper couldn't believe her luck. What better way to completely ruin Helen than to show interest in an entry-level intern over her? She had a "sudden" brainwave: since Helen was experiencing a dry "Grey" spell, she said, why not put Alice in the magazine as the face of Helen Grey and a future fashion star to watch out for in the industry? Alice could wear several of the outfits that she had designed, Piper added, cruelly.
Predictably, Helen would have none of that. The day that Alice signed a contract with Helen Grey Designs, she signed over her soul and entitled Helen to everything that she did, including any scrap she would ever create. She was no chump. Seventeen years in the vicious world of fashion had taught her a lot about intellectual property. So not only could Alice forget about appearing as the face of her company, Helen forbade her to work for any other fashion house for the next two years. And, as an after-thought, Alice was fired. As much as Helen adored her, she had a sense of self-preservation that ran too deeply to allow for that amount of generosity.
"Sooooo?" Alice performed a couple of cat-like steps and turned to Jasper.
"Nice!" Jasper's eyebrows rose and an appreciative smile broke out on his face.
"Or are these ones better?" Alice put on a pair that seemed to Jasper to be identical to the first one, save for some sparkling crystals on the heels.
"Wow... Nice!" he repeated.
"Which ones?"
"Err… Both."
"Which ones make me look more like I'm a supermodel?"
Jasper fidgeted. "Ah, I should've seen that coming. Sweetheart, you're obsessed with your height."
"I'm not obsessed. I'm just exceptionally preoccupied with that part of my appearance… not that I have much to be preoccupied with."
"Why can't you complain about your complexion, like normal vampire girls do?"
Alice was not the tallest member of her family, a fact that did not bother her at all... not for the first fifteen years of her life with Cullens anyway. Then, years ago, on a normal family outing – normal for a vampire family – her statuesque and traffic-stoppingly beautiful (though continuously bad-tempered) sister Rosalie had moaned: "you don't know how lucky you are, being so short. I tower over almost every-damn-body and it just makes me look more like one of those airhead models than a serious business executive." And thus, Alice' height mania began.
While Rosalie and Esme, their adoptive mom, had spent hours every morning standing in front of their mirrors carefully analysing which colour fabrics gave them a hint of colour in their appearances (looking as human as possible was a high priority in the Cullen household), Alice's focus was much lower. As time went on, she amassed a collection of hundreds of high-heeled shoes that would rival her mate, Jasper's sword collection in scale, variety and spiky-ness.
"It's true, you are not Zafrina-tall, but that isn't the worst thing that could happen to someone," Jasper soothed from the armchair in the corner.
"Nope, it isn't," Alice agreed with disturbing cheerfulness. "You could have a never-ending thirst and an almighty yearning to jump people, rip out their throats and suck their blood. And as fate would have it, I do."
"You don't. You have an endless respect of human life which trumps everything, including lack of height."
"Ha! So you do admit that I'm vertically challenged!"
"I admit that your petite frame suits you like a dream." Jasper infused some firmness in his voice.
"Emmet says that sometimes he forgets that I'm a vampire. He says that I'm so short and squeaky-voiced, I seem more like a white fairy on Gummy Berry juice…" Alice said, sticking out her bottom lip.
"Sometimes Emmet seems like the Incredible Hulk's pale baby brother, with none of the Hulks' mental acuity." Jasper was keen to win this debate. He was, after all, Alice's most devoted admirer. "So don't believe a word."
"When I step out of my shoes, Edward pretends to look around and panic - 'she's gone!'" she challenged, though she was enjoying Jasper's quick inclination to rush to her defence.
"Sweetheart, our Edward can read minds. Which is pretty great, but sometimes I worry about all those voices in his head. Who knows whom he could be talking about when he exclaims, 'she's gone!'" he said, with a fake troubled look on his face. "But, my brother who experiences auditory illusions from time to time is still my brother…" Jasper concluded, with a non-judgmental shrug.
"Ha ha." She was not too preoccupied with choosing the perfect pair of shoes to appreciate the playful smack-downs of her two beloved brothers.
She finally decided on the first pair that she had tried out. Their criss-cross pattern reminded her of a pair of Jimmy Choos that she once spotted on Devon Aoki at a Grammy Awards party.
"Hey, I'm gonna be late for class," Jasper said. "Need a lift?"
"No thanks, I'm taking Bumblebee." Bumblebee was Alice' nickname for a yellow Porsche that she owned.
"Good luck with the interview. Not that you need it." With that, he rose up out of the chair and sidled his lithe frame over to her. "I hope they're smart enough to hire you. I'll see you this afternoon."
"Alright, love." She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and give him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Hey, do you know who Devon Aoki is?"
"The world's second-most awesome short girl in fashion?" He guessed right, to her delight.