SUMMARY - An annoyed Isabella want to get rid her boss who sexually harasses her.
Her best friend Rosalie decides to help her, and shows Bella the website that will change everything…
E&B little OCC,
AU
M for lemons.
A/N - Hello everyone!
This is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction. I really hope you will enjoy the story :)
Huge amount thanks goes to my pre-readers SofiaFanfiction and Katy (MrsK81) !
Also, a well-filled basket of thank you's to my wonderful Beta: AskTheMagic8Ball
DISCLAIMER - Obviously, I do not own anything Twilight. Everyone here knows who it belongs to J
I just own this storyline and these lovely characters.
You can find me on twitter! (PearlFF02)
And also on facebook (Pearl FancyFantasy OhTwo)
To Hire a Heart
Never before had I been so glad it was Friday. Talk about TGIF.
I was cursing at my shoes, the black pumps my friend Rosalie kindly picked up for me last week.
Finally, I arrived home and struggled to open the lock that secured my front door.
My home was a nice, but small, studio-apartment with three rooms: my bedroom, bathroom, and the kitchen/living room combo. The location was perfect; I could easily walk to work. I couldn't really give a downside on my home. Maybe that it was upstairs from an Italian restaurant? But that didn't bother me. No, not at all. The owners of the Senza Nome were good friends of mine: Marcus and Aro Volturi. They were the nicest landlords anyone could imagine.
I opened the door and closed it behind me. As I ran up the stairs to my actual place, sounds from the television were coming down to meet me.
I can't remember turning on the TV this morning.
Instead of being greeted by my cat, I was greeted by someone else today.
"Oh, there you are!" a female voice sounded as I shrugged off my dark blue trench coat and hung it up on the coat rack.
"Rose? What are you doing here?" I asked as I recognized the voice and head of my best friend, Rosalie Hale, who sat on her knees on my couch, facing me and gripping the back of it. I saw that Crisp, my cat, was lying casually on my windowsill. I walked over to her as Rosalie talked and stroked her little, fuzzy head.
"I finished my article early today. Thought my dead-line was this afternoon, but it was actually Monday afternoon, so I took the remaining time off," she explained.
I kicked off the evil high heels and felt my feet thank me in return.
"I can't see how you survive wearing shoes like that every single day," I muttered, realizing Rose was looking at me with an amused expression."
"Beauty is pain, my friend, " she laughed and stood up from the couch.
"Then you must have been very pained in the past," I answered and walked to my refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.
Rosalie and I had been friends since college. We ended up sharing an apartment close to university, but it wasn't friendship at first sight, at all. I saw Rose as a blonde bimbo with big boobs and no brains. She saw me as a boring stuck-up bitch who couldn't dress right to save her life. That last part had been a quotation from Rosalie herself. It turned out we were both wrong about a few things . I really couldn't dress right to save my life, and Rose did have big boobs.
Now, our friendship seemed unbreakable. We were opposites in a lot of ways, but we complimented each other perfectly. While I was the shyer one, Rosalie was really out-going and very social. I could cook as well as Rosalie could swear, and that sure meant something, and I had a feeling we both needed each other.
"You can't even begin to imagine, Bella." she said with a fake hint of drama.
"So, since you have no work to do you decided to break into my house and watch basketball on my television?" I asked her, enjoying the feel of the cold water as it glided down my throat.
"No." She seemed to think it over. "Yes, but not just for that! And plus, I didn't break into your house… I have a key, remember?" she said, putting her hands on her well-formed hips.
"That key was supposed to be for emergencies, not when a Knicks game is on." I winked at her and went for the couch.
"It's not a Knicks game. It's a Lakers one. And they won, but that doesn't matter now." She smiled widely, and I shook my head.
Rosalie was a total sports and car freak with the body of a model. She had been a lingerie model to make some money so she could pay for her education. And let's say that it is surprising how many guys remember girls from lingerie-ads…
"So, you had something to tell me?" I asked and closed my eyes while I let my head fall back against the softness of my couch.
I felt the cushion beside me shift, indicating Rosalie was next to me now.
"You better open those eyes, because I've got news for you," she announced mysteriously.
When I opened my eyes, I could see the dreamy look on her face. One I didn't know that well actually, because I had only seen it once before.
"Rose?" I questioned her, causing her eyes to shift back into focus.
"Hmm?" She raised one eyebrow at me.
"Are you… seeing someone?" I asked her.
"I'm not really seeing someone," she said sadly. "But…I just met him the other day, so I can't have the highest expectations," she told me honestly.
"Really? Oh my God! Why didn't you tell me that?" I asked, a little disappointed
"It's just that I don't really know what to think. He's super friendly, wonderfully charming, and oh so freakily handsome," Rosalie mused.
"Well, I have to say that sounds very promising. Handsome and friendly you say? That's hard to find!" I told her, meaning every word I said.
"Who's the lucky guy then, Rose?" I asked.
"His name is Royce King, and he's a banker. I met him the other day at a hotdog stand in the park!" She said like it was such a nice place to meet a man.
"At a hotdog stand?" I asked her, doubt indicated in my voice.
"Yeah, I ordered a hotdog and then I realized I'd left my wallet at the office when I'd gone in to drop some things off. He was standing in line behind me, and you know what he did Bella?" Rosalie didn't even leave me some time to think, because she filled in her question right away.
"He paid for it! For a fucking hotdog!" Her enthusiasm was amusing to me, and I laughed. "What?" she asked, a frown showing on her face.
"Nothing, you're just cute when you're this star-struck", I told Rosalie, and she smiled in response to my words.
"Oh well, enough about me for now!" She changed the subject. "How was work today?"
"Tiring, my feet are killing me, but it was nice, until 9 am. Then, Mr. I-like-to-ruin-Bella's-day-and-make-her-vomit made my mood shift completely. Just thinking about it makes me feel like vomiting or stabbing the guy with something painful and ridiculously sharp-edged." I sighed as Rosalie made a face.
"That bad?" she asked me.
"Yes! I mean, I had to have a little briefing with him at 9 am"I've been covering for Angela as she hasn't been at work for a week. So, I had to have a briefing with him this morning at nine." rosalie nodded, indicating I could continue my little story.
"So we were sitting in his office and going over the authors I would be seeing that day and the rest of the schedule and all, and suddenly, he accidently," I made air quotations. "knocked over a tin of paperclips onto the floor." I stopped there, leaving some time for Rosalie to think about what might've happened.
"And?" she asked, indicating she wanted me to go on.
"Out of manners I crouched down and picked them up for him- since he's still my boss and all. And ugh, he was looking at my ass, and then slapped it," I said, disgust showing on my face.
"Dirty fellah he is. Motherfucker. Who the fuck does he think he is?" She made, her eyes burning with rage.
"You should sue him, you know?" she said.
I groaned. "But he's my boss, and I really don't want to lose my job just in case I'm overreacting, Rose." I explained to her, like I'd done before.
"I know that, sweetie, but do you think my boss is spanking my ass? If he was, then he would obviously think it was within his rights or something he could get away with, so in a sense, he would find it normal. The answer to both of those questions is no. Just saying you know? He can't have that power over you, Bells." she said. Whenever the subject of Mike Newton came up, I recognized the caring person Rosalie could be.
I knew what Mike did wasn't really normal or even legal. It really was sexual harassment, and it had become more and more frequent since day one.
It all began very innocently at first, with Mike winking at me and casually letting his hands graze mine whenever he handed me something. But in the seven months since I'd started working at Weber and Newton Publishing House, it had worsened, and now Mr. Newton was grabbing my goodies.
"Maybe I should just talk to him about it? Or to Angela?" I proposed, thinking that once I talked to Mike about the matter he would keep it in mind that I was most definitely not flattered with his actions, "and if he just continued acting the same he would receive a nice letter from my lawyer letting him know just how much I didn't like it."
"Yeah, if you don't want to take immediate action, I'd choose Angela, and then she can talk about it with Mike himself. She's as high in the company hierarchy as he is, so perhaps he'll take it better and more seriously when it comes from her," Rosalie said.
I nodded and told her about the bright parts of my day, about the various authors who had come into Angela's office and talked to me about their projects and dreams. Deciding whether a writer can be published at our firm or not has to be a very difficult thing to do. At least, that's what I learned after interviewing authors for a week. It wasn't up to me whether a story could be published or not. I carefully organized every author's file containing the interview itself and various other information and placed them on Angela's desk. She'll have her hands full when she returned.
My stomach growled, and Rosalie turned her attention from a magazine to the lime green watch she wore on her left wrist.
"Time flies, it's eight already",she announced. "What about dinner? Sounds like your stomach would agree with me," she joked and put the magazine down onto my coffee table.
"That sounds about right. Should I make something for us?" I asked her, secretly hoping she wouldn't say yes, because I had a feeling my cabinets were about as empty as a school classroom ten seconds after the bell rang.
"You already did that twice this week. I don't want to make you buy all your food just for me," she said, smiling. "What about Italian? I haven't seen Marcus and Aro for a while."
I didn't need to think about it; I just nodded at her and stood up from the couch.
"Okay then, let's go!" Rosalie announced.
She slid her feet back into the cream platform pumps that were thrown across my fuzzy carpet and slung her handbag over her right shoulder.
"Just let me give Crisp her dinner, and I'm ready to go," I said, walking over to the kitchen to grab the box of kitty food in the cupboard underneath the sink.
As I filled her bowl with jelly-coated fish, Rose brought my drained bottle of water back into the kitchen to throw in the bin.
"And just like that, dinner is served! If it only were that easy for humans to cook!" Rosalie said, sounding like she actually meant it.
"I never said you couldn't try one of these, Rose," I joked, holding up the empty aluminum can.
"Oh, Bella, I couldn't even eat that if I tried. It smells repulsive!" She stuck out her tongue as she relived the one time I almost made her eat cat food on April Fool's Day, but she tossed it in the garbage as soon as the smell hit her.
"Right," I laughed.
"Ready now? Come, my friend, dinner's on me!" Rose exclaimed and walked over to my door.
I didn't even bother to get my coat, as the restaurant was just downstairs. I got my purse and followed Rosalie downstairs.
The restaurant was very cozy, the interior warm and inviting. Everything was carefully designed by our good friends Aro and Marcus. The left walls were coated with rich, beige wallpaper. The dark brown chandeliers were the only source of light in the room. On the right walls, the wallpaper was darker, an almost ashy-grey color in the same texture as the wallpaper on the left walls. The tablecloths were beige with beige-and-brown striped cotton napkins. Each table had a pot of red roses and a mini version of the brown chandeliers. It was very pretty overall.
As I closed the door behind me, Olivia, the hostess, showed up.
"Isabella, Rosalie! Buonasera!" She greeted and enveloped the both of us into a hug. Olivia was a woman of forty-three and Marcus' sister. Her skin was olive-toned, and she had brown eyes with green specks throughout. She had a petite body and rich brown hair cascading down her back.
"Hi! How are you Olivia?" I asked.
"Great! My husband and I had the most amazing anniversary yesterday. I am still astonished that he set everything up without my finding anything out!" she exclaimed, smiling broadly at the two of us.
"Oh, congratulations! I had no idea! How long have you guys been married?" Rosalie asked, seeming genuinely interested.
"Twenty years of ups and downs, my dear. Now, let me escort you to a table. I assume it's just the two of you for tonight?" she asked us, clasping her hands together in front of her body.
"Uhm, yes. It's just us tonight," Rosalie told Olivia.
"There are still a few free tables on the heated terrace. Marcus told me you guys love it there," she said, escorting us to our table through the restaurant. Almost every table was filled, and people were dining in serenity. Their dishes looked marvelous and made my mouth water.
We arrived onto the terrace. Even outside, it managed to be chic and cozy.
Olivia placed us at the first table in the left corner. We were sitting right underneath one of the heating lamps. Our hostess asked us if we already wanted something to drink. Rosalie ordered a vodka martini and I got a Manhattan.
"I'll be right back, going to the ladies," announced my blonde friend as she stood up. As Rosalie went to the bathroom, Aro came to talk to me, his dark hair slicked back, wearing his signature, expensive, well-polished shoes.
"Ah, my Bella! Meroviglioso to see you, my dear!" he greeted me, making the other table in the right corner turn their attention toward our table briefly.
"Oh hi, Aro. Nice to see you, too" I said, standing up to hug him.
"You're not alone I hope? Such a bella ragazza shouldn't have dinner alone!" he asked dramatically.
"No, no. I'm not alone, Aro. I'm with Rose tonight, but she's using the bathroom." I smiled at him, and he nodded in comprehension.
"Please do sit down, sweetheart." He motioned for me to sit down again as he leaned against the wall next to the table, putting his hands in his black dress pants.
"So how have you been? I heard from Marcus that you had some troubles with the hot water in the shower?" Aro asked me.
I nodded. "Yeah, but he called someone for me the other day, and it's all fixed now." Smiling I put a strand of hair behind my right ear.
"Did you order anything yet?" he asked me, glancing at his Rolex watch.
"Just drinks, but not long ago," I explained.
Aro nodded.
"Why who do we have here? Aro, how are you doing?" Rosalie came back from the bathroom greeting Aro in her own specific way: loud and very friendly.
"Well, well, if that's not the writing bombshell!" Aro and Rosalie gave each other a brief hug and then broke apart.
"Are those the Louboutin's you've been ogling for the longest time over there?" He pointed toward Rose's shoes. True, they looked sleek and expensive. But Louboutins? Weren't they like the Rolls Royce of woman's shoes?
"Oh, Aro, I wish they were, but no. I picked these up at a random shoe store, thought they looked the part for way less money." She smiled poorly.
"So, the girls came out to party?" I heard: Marcus' voice. He was the taller of the two, perhaps six feet tall. Marcus had dark brown hair that was currently ear-length and well-kept. His outfit matched Aro's with only one thing that was different. While Aro wore a royal blue shirt, Marcus was wearing a somewhat less attention seeking shirt: a pale yellow one. The both of them wore the same dark grey tie. In his hands, Marcus had a tray with our two drinks.
"Yes, we came to party. It's Friday night and with the two us it means girls' night." Rosalie smiled and toyed around with the napkin that lay in front of her.
"How come you didn't invite us then?" Marcus said with fake-shock and a dramatic hand over his heart. The four of us all laughed.
"I'll make it a bit clearer for you then, no dick's allowed. Literally or figurally." She winked at Aro and Marcus.
"Oh, then I will say no more," Marcus joked, putting his hands up in surrender.
"Now, I'll do what I'm paid for. Which is serving my sweet clients," he said.
"If I remember it right, then the vodka martini is for my sweetheart right here," he said as he put the iced drink in front of Rosalie, "and the Manhattan is for our dear Bella." He winked and placed it down.
"Thank you," we said to them.
"Oh Marcus," Rosalie said, like she just remembered something.
"Yes dear?"
"What about a shopping trip next Wednesday? It's been ages since we went out together!" she asked.
I joined in the conversation, which was rare for me when it involved shopping. "Yeah, we totally should. I need some new ballet flats. My last ones are all holey and shit," I said seriously, and in response, Rosalie, Marcus, and Aro started laughing.
Then, Aro placed his hands on my shoulders and bent his head so he could half-whisper in my ear. "Oh, Bella, you will come home with so much more than just a pair of basic ballet flats. You can be sure of that."
"Should I be scared now? Because if I should, you totally failed." I answered him bluntly, earning a smile from Rose.
"No, just be prepared. That's all I can say. Because when my Aro wants something to be done, it's not over until it's actually done." Marcus winked at Aro.
"Okay, I really needed to know that," I joked sarcastically.
"So, I'll call you sometime this weekend then? Or I'll stop by when I'm at Bella's?" asked Rosalie, sipping from the square glass of vodka martini she ordered.
"Sounds great, can't wait!" said Marcus.
After that, our two friends went back to working again, and we chose our dishes. Olivia came to take our order, and I wished I had ordered a Coke instead of alcohol. My stomach was as empty as could be, and Bella and alcohol? I needed a full stomach to not be dancing on top of the table.
I gave Rosalie the rest of my drink and smiled at Olivia as she came to bring our plates. Steam arose from them, and the closer she got, the better we could smell the fresh food.
"Here you go, girls, enjoy!" Olivia announced as she put our plates in front of us.
Rosalie had gone for the pizza Napolitano , and for myself, I'd ordered a fresh linguini Al Fredo.
"Gosh, this food is just orgasmic. I mean, have you ever felt this good eating a pizza?" Rosalie asked, cutting another piece of pizza and biting it.
"I know. It's like they put something in it… like drugs or something." I joked and twirled some linguini on my fork.
"Oh my God! Maybe they did! I should totally marry the guy who makes this food," she mused.
"Rose, Rose, Rose. We both know that Georgiana makes the food," I said matter of factly.
"Make your point already; my pizza is getting cold," she said, getting anxious to start eating.
"Georgiana is a woman, Rose?" And with that, Rosalie snorted.
"I'll tell you this, girlfriend. I'd go lesbo for her, and you know I love sex. So when I'm offering to give up cocks and firemen fantasies, you know it's a big thing." She winked at me, and we both laughed.
We continued eating and enjoying our meals then and chatted away about all sorts of things. Rosalie told me all about Royce in detail. His hair, how it looked like a lion's mane –didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, his eyes which were hazelnut brown, and the way his suit fell around his form. From her description, he didn't sound like a broad man –which surprised me, because Rosalie tended to fall for muscles. She had given him her number, and he had promised to call her tonight.
After finishing our meal and drowning an entire bottle of red, I went to the bathroom while Rosalie was taking care of the bill. When I got back, Rosalie had a smug smile on her face, and she was clutching her white iPhone in her hands.
"What's up with the Mona Lisa smile, Da Vinci?" I asked her, laughing.
"He called me! I have a fucking date for tomorrow evening!" she squealed.
"Oh boy, fangirl phase already, Rose?" I laughed, and she playfully slapped my arm.
"Shut the fuck up, Isabella," she said. I stuck my tongue out.
We said our good-byes to the crew of Senza Nome and went back to my place.
Once we were there, I changed into some shorts and a tank top. Rosalie went to my bathroom, where she had left a pair of PJ's for herself, and also got changed. As she did that, I went over to the kitchen to find Crisp eating the jelly-kitten-goodness and made some popcorn for Rosalie and I.
Once we were settled on the couch with blankets and Coke, Crisp went hiding in the bedroom. Rosalie knew about my Ashton Kutcher weakness, so when she suggested What Happens in Vegas, of course I said yes!
Somewhere near the end of the movie, I felt myself beginning to drift to sleep. Rosalie had already passed out beside me, her head against the right armrest of the couch. I let my eyes slip close and felt myself glide away into a wonderful, dreamless sleep.
That was it *awaits reactions*
Please let me know what you think!
Reviews will make me smile :)
Ciao,
Pearl.
