Disclaimer: Characters property of Stephenie Meyer.
A/N: This story just popped into my head one lonely night, and before I knew it, I was writing it down on my bedside notepad (have to buy a new notepad...). Anyway, to anyone who reads this, just tell me whether you like it or not!
This is AU, everyone's human, and characters may be OOC (just a warning!!). Happy reading.
Between the Lines: A Bella and Edward story
By Amour de Lis
One: "That Coffee Place Over There"
Men, coffee, and chocolate all had one thing in common: they were better off rich.
Of course, it wasn't necessarily in that order. In our case, the coffee was usually foremost at the Café-Moi (introducing the world to the dynamic duo of lattes and internet—a 21st century hallmark).
Me? I couldn't give a dime to the men issue, because honestly, I didn't particularly care if they were rich or not. My life has had few of them, and the only one that truly mattered was my dad, Charlie Swan. Through the divorce, he'd held strong. Coming apart at the seams? Sure, but time was good and kind enough not to let him fall apart completely and utterly. He was my rock when I nearly got swept away by the ocean at home—literally and figuratively. My mom was great, too, but let's face it: a tough mother-daughter bond can last hurricanes. It was practically a given.
Anyway, back to the saying relayed to us by our manager, Rosalie Hale. It was said precisely in that order to us. We couldn't blame her, not really. Men were practically a given to a girl who was a) a beauty queen and b) filthy rich. The Café-Moi was—yep, you guessed it!—a chain of joints owned by her mother's family. Her father's half were bankers, lawyers, and businessmen. At the moment, Rosalie was dating my cousin, Emmett McCarty, who was, believe it or not, head over heels in love with her. I couldn't believe he'd actually allowed himself to get in so deep. He couldn't believe I haven't gotten drowned either, being the passive, emotional female I was…supposed to be.
And I am. Of course I am. That's why I haven't dived yet.
"Sure, kiddo," I could picture him grinning at me and mussing my hair. "Sure."
I really did miss Emmett. He'd gone to Iraq last year and, recently, we'd been notified for his return on the following date: today. When Rosalie, Alice, and I went tearing through university campus practically screaming the news, people—being people—asked why he was being sent back from Hell. Why's he being sent back? What did he do?
Why? We couldn't care why; we just knew that he was coming back!
But to answer the ridiculous question of 'why', the reason was that Emmett had torn a muscle in one leg and broken the other. Not pretty. But we still loved him. And we knew that Emmett, being Emmett, would want a chance to mingle with the crowd, to show off his grisly marks of glory, and to basically act as though nothing changed.
And to give him that chance, we decided to throw a party for him in the café. With catering. And new recruits to the "Café Camaraderie".
Ah, fresh recruits.
Gladly tearing away from pondering the thoughts of Emmett's party, I watched Alice patiently train a tall, gangly guy on creating the epitome of a chai tea. The other one, a rather short Asian dude, was busily swabbing the deck and furtively eying a regular by the name of Angela Weber. She was in a heated debate, from what I could hear, on the differences of Nature vs. Nurture. The girl she was conversing with was pointing, no, jabbing, at a textbook and speaking in fluid, rapid-fire French.
I squinted to read the new guy's name tag when he stopped mid-swab and leaned against his mop, listening in and unconsciously nodding to Angela's reasoning.
"Missed a spot, Ben?" I asked, looking pointedly at the mop and trying not to smile.
He jerked back into reality, grinned, reddened, and went back to work. I chuckled as I lowered by head to fit a cap onto a cappuccino; I knew he'd go back to ogling poor Angie the moment my back was turned.
"Five ninety-five, ma'am. Thank you, have a nice day," I added automatically as the woman nodded and, without lifting her head from her Sidekick, took her order. She bustled hastily out the door while I grabbed a nearby towel to wipe the counter.
"Coffee—black with cream, as you may already know, Miss Swan."
I glanced up and returned the smile Alice's boyfriend, Jasper, gave me. "Extra sugar and bubbling fresh?"
"You know it." He glanced over my head. "And beautiful."
"Naturally. Alice Brandon! You've been ordered!" There was a squeal and quick, last minute directions to the tall recruit. "In a minute," I told Jasper.
He nodded and gave me a beseeching look. "Does the actual order of coffee come with Alice?"
Alice herself bobbed forward, her inky, dark hair glossy in the lighting. Her face was alight with the happiness that always showed when Jasper was around. In a single movement, she'd somehow hung her apron around my neck while skipping to hug Jasper.
"Sure, if you take out your wallet and pay me." He mocked a grimace while I grinned back at him. "Ever heard of paying for your pleasures?"
"Bella, he does it every time I go to the mall," Alice pointed out with a smirk.
"It's painful." Jasper sighed. "It's a shame that I love her too much."
"Nothing's wrong with that," I said lightly, turning away to check on the coffee. I folded Alice's apron and placed it on the counter while waiting for the coffee to finish, allowing the two lovebirds to have a moment to themselves. Quiet, soft tones were all that was left of their voices and I suddenly felt out of place, the empty space in the corner of my heart beginning to make itself known, after all I did to forget about it. I'm not ready for commitment yet, I told myself stonily, reflexively blocking the images that ran through my mind at the thought.
With relief, I looked up to see Rosalie emerging from the storeroom. Speaking of intrusions…
"You! Yes, you, Mr. What's-your-name—"
"Anderson," the gangly guy informed her.
Rose waved her hand impatiently. "Whatever, does it look like I care? No, don't answer that, it was rhetorical. Don't you know what that word means? What are you?"
Uh-oh. Ranting. Either she was stressed from how much we were earning, or hyped for Emmett's return. Jasper and Alice's murmurings stopped, and they began to watch the scene with new interest.
As did the other customers.
The unfortunate Anderson pulled at his tie and stammered, nearly spilling over the pitcher in his hand, "Well, Ms. Hale…"
"It's Rosalie." She began tying her apron and pulling her famed golden locks back into a ponytail.
"Right, um, as you know, when an X and Y chromosome come together, they produce what is known as the male gender and—"
"Freshman," she sniffed derisively. "I should have known. Only a freshman would give an answer like that."
I coughed from behind her.
"Oh, except you, Bella. And Alice. Anderson, watch that pitcher!" Anderson watched it. And good for him, too. One second longer staring at his manager would have sent him to the storeroom to count out how much we've stocked. Believe me, that job was pretty much on a par with Iraq.
With the coffee finished, I handed it off to Jasper, exchanging it with the bill he passed forward.
"Bella, when did the man on the phone say we could pick up Emmett?" Rosalie asked in hushed tones, coming to stand beside me. She gave Jasper and Alice a fleeting look. "And when are the caterers going to come?"
Jasper took the hint and bade farewell, making for the door. Alice pirouetted to follow, tossing me a wink and mouthing, Can you deal? She nodded imperceptibly in Rosalie's direction. I gave her a half-smile as affirmation. My cousin's girlfriend wasn't that bad…if you didn't set off the alarm. In this case, the alarm was already set, but it was only drizzling. Anyone would be agitated for Emmett's return—it was all part of his charm.
"Only she's taking agitated to a whole new level," Alice had said the night before. We were in our dorm room, recounting the good old times. "I swear she's worse than my mom!"
Now, Rosalie tapped her foot. "Bella, I've got a schedule."
"He said later in the afternoon," I assured her, as Alice waved before closing the door. I turned back to the cash register, counting what we'd made so far.
She checked her watch. "It's later, let's go!"
I stifled a sigh. "You do have customers."
"So? That poor excuse for smooth management down the street can have them—my treat. Just as long as I get my Emmett." Her eyes softened and, for a moment, I was able to see the heart she kept so tightly fisted. But it was only for a moment. "Bella, he's your cousin, for God's sake. Don't you miss him?"
Releasing my sigh, I closed the cash register just as Alice came barreling through the doors looking positively frenzied.
It was the expression that scared me half to death and gave Jasper's wallet cramps and pains. It was the look she saved for the new Prada handbag.
The I-Found-A-Treasure look.
"Oh, my God!!!" she shrieked, hopping up and down and leaning against the front counter with her palms. Alice's hazel eyes were sparking green and gold. "They're here!!"
"The caterers?" Rosalie straightened her apron and put on the look she reserved for malingering customers.
Alice rolled her eyes. "No. I mea—" There was a gasp.
"Oh, my GOD, it's EMMETT!!!" Rosalie cried, vaulting over the counter.
I grabbed Alice's hands, not trusting myself to look. "He's alive? How did he get here?"
She somehow managed to drag me over the front counter, saying exasperatedly, "Don't ask stupid questions, Bella, just LOOK!"
I looked. Emmett strolled through the door in a wheelchair, a sight that caused a twinge in my heart, with Rosalie nearly strangling his neck. Someone was pushing the wheelchair, but I never registered who it was.
I flung myself at my cousin, hearing him groan, and then pulling back, hanging onto his hand and feeling like I'd downed several shots of vodka. Rosalie sobbed his name into his neck even as the whole café broke into bewildered applause.
"Emmett?" I breathed, barely daring to believe it.
He offered a lopsided grin and crushed my hand in his iron grip. Yep, this was my cousin.
"We were just walking down the road when, what do you know, Emmett comes strolling into town like a freaking prima donna in his wheelchair." Alice began to chatter excitedly from beside me. "So Jasper decided to go ahead and make the catering arrangements while I go here and spread the joy."
"You mean you haven't run out of it yet?" Emmett inquired teasingly. "What's up, Mary Alice?"
"Your ego."
"How's the leg?" I asked even as they laughed.
Emmett's eyes gleamed as he started to reach down. "Would you care to see for yourself?"
"NO," Rosalie interjected, hugging him tightly.
"I'll pass." He extended an arm and I gingerly hugged him as he crushed me against his chest. "We missed you."
"Same here, Bells."
"And how did you find your way to Emmett?" Alice addressed someone.
"Well, surprise, surprise—I was conveniently volunteering at the clinic. And when we hit this street, Emmett told me to go to 'that coffee place over there'."
Emmett released me just as I looked up for the new voice.
I was always known for making mistakes, but usually they were limited to tripping. But now, I was sure that my eyes were deceiving me. Moreover, I was in a mild state of panic; I could feel the instant blood rush in my cheeks and I knew that they would be cherry red in an instant. I wondered if we were minutes from the apocalypse, causing bona fide models to suddenly take an interest in health care.
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I decided to thank him, model or no, for picking up Emmett. It saved us time, as well as the dreaded questionnaire that Rosalie would put forth for the doctor.
Alice hopped to introductions. "Hey, Bella, remember Edward Masen from junior high? Well, now he's my stepbrother."
I continued to stare. My best friend's newly introduced stepbrother returned the look with one of amusement. Nope, no memories of any Edwards or Masens crossed my mind. "Wait," I began slowly. "What?"
Out of my periphery, I saw Rosalie rise from where she knelt to take the wheelchair from Edward, rolling Emmett off. I was left standing with Alice, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet anxiously; and with her exceptionally good-looking supposed-stepbrother.
"Don't worry, I don't remember junior high very well, either," Edward reassured me, offering a hand and a crooked smile. "But nice to meet you."
"You, too." Dumbly, I extended my own right hand to watch it disappear within his. I glanced at Alice questioningly. She grinned soothingly and swiped a cup of tea from the tray that Anderson carried, firmly forcing my left hand to hold onto it.
"Here, Bella. Take this and we'll continue our talk about the good old times." And with that, she steered me to the nearest table.
Edward, his arm in the vise-like grip of his stepsister, followed.
A/N: Remember, just tip me off, and I'll continue. But I thought this was a good place to stop for now.
Yours,
Amour de Lis
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