Title: The Right Wrong Number

Penname: Twidictedbyrd

Rating: M

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Disclaimers/Content Warnings: We own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. Strong language and adult content.

Summary: Bella is a telemarketer who got on Edward's last nerve. What happens when they literally run into each other?

Banner Link (if applicable): http:/1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGMz3500PKE/T2vA6sihrrI/AAAAAAAAAsM/iB02zpxQmD0/s320/wrongnumber.png

Link to existing fic (if applicable):

Link to your blog (optional): http:/twidictedbyrd.blogspot.com

BPOV

I hated my job. When I started whistling "Take This Job and Shove It" whenever my boss walked into the room, I decided I'd better watch myself if I wanted to keep working. It's not that I didn't want to do something else with my life; I just couldn't find another job.

I was in the most despised profession on the planet: telemarketing. While it was far from my dream job, it did pay the bills and give me more time to dedicate to my studies. Right now, I needed all the extra time that I could get. I was currently working on my Master's Degree in Sociology and Criminology/Criminal Justice at St. Louis University. Between classes, I was also starting an entry level position in the District Attorney's office.

Like I'd needed something else to do. I really needed to make a decision on whether or not I wanted to go to law school or pursue a career in law enforcement. My dad, Charlie, was excited about the prospect of me following in his law enforcement footsteps. He was police chief of a small town in Washington. The other profession that I was considering was the FBI. Did I want to put the criminals away or did I want to help find them? I was hoping being around lawyers in the D.A.'s office would help me get an answer soon.

I looked at the clock. Thankfully, it was almost time for me to go home. Just one more call and I could be on my way. The best part about this job was that there was an automated dialer. I only had to hit a few buttons. A beep alerted me if a person answered the phone. I gave my scripted speech inserting the name of the person whose debt I was trying to collect. With caller ID, very few people would pick up a number they didn't know, so I very rarely even spoke to anyone. That was why I could get tons of reading in while I worked. I began to put my books away because I knew that there would be no one home when the beep went off. Fuck, someone picked up the phone.

I settled back in my padded arm chair and pulled up the file tied to this phone number and prepared to get this over with. I felt a tension headache coming on. Perfect. Now I needed to go to the store before I went home to write a paper.

EPOV

It was weeks like this one when I wished I had taken a different career path. Being an Assistant District Attorney was a job with lots of hours, little pay and lots of hell-raising from your boss if a case didn't get the desired outcome.

Today was one of those days that my ass got chewed out so badly that I almost packed up everything in my office for good. I'd lost a case that the D.A., who was currently running for re-election in a very heated campaign, felt was an easy win. Not so easy when one of your key witnesses recants his testimony on the stand. From the start of the case I had a feeling that everything was not as it seemed and I was so right.

The case centered around several gang members who were accused of multiple bank robberies. Unfortunately, the witness, who had turned the defendants in to the cops, said that they didn't really commit the robberies. This witness said that they were just looking for attention from an ex-girlfriend and thought being in the spotlight of a trial would bring the girl back. Well, the girl probably wasn't coming back, because that dumb ass was now behind bars in the county lock-up. My money was on the witness being a friend who was going to get some financial help from the likely robbers. More than likely, he was also probably a member of the gang.

It was late. I was tired. I was pissed. I was fucking famished. I stumbled through my front door and placed my briefcase on the entryway table. I kicked off my dress shoes and left them by the door.

I turned on the kitchen light and opened the fridge. All that it contained was some out of date milk and a block of moldy cheese. I opened the freezer and found my last TV dinner. I was going to have to go to the store soon since the pantry was as empty as my conviction count for the day.

My mouth began to water as the smell of the chicken began to fill the house. I knew that I was withering from starvation when a frostbitten TV dinner sounded as good to me as a meal at a 5-star restaurant.

I opened the drawer for a fork to find it empty. I looked at the kitchen sink, and the dishes were trying to make a break for it from the sink to the floor. That was another thing that I needed to take care of soon.

The microwave beeped, and I reached over to get a paper towel to put underneath the tray only find an empty cardboard roll. This was just not my day. I dug through my junk drawer and found a sealed packet that contained a spork with a napkin so thin it was almost see-through. I shrugged. It would just have to work.

I grabbed the tray and settled into my recliner. My body sang with relief to be surrounded by the comfort of the worn, oversized chair. I had just taken my first bite of the rubbery chicken when my cell phone rang in my pocket. It was probably my asshole boss. As much as I wanted to ignore him, I knew that I needed to pick up the phone.

I balanced my dinner on the arm of the chair and lifted my hip up to pull out my cell.

"Cullen speaking," I said into the receiver as I turned to watch my dinner take a face first dive into my carpet. "Fuck," I mumbled. Just what I needed. Not only did I have to deal with this phone call from my amazing boss who yelled at me behind closed doors for two hours, but now I don't have a damn thing to eat for dinner. Things couldn't get any worse.

I heard a feminine throat clearing. "Good evening, sir. My name is Bella and I'm calling from the GMYFM Corporation. I'm trying to get in touch with Ms. Jennifer Rathbone about a past due balance on her account."

I was wrong. Things did get worse. It was a fucking telemarketing debt collector.

BPOV

I heard the muffled curse on the other end of the line and knew that this was not going to be an easy call. If I had a dollar for every profane word I had said to me on calls, I wouldn't have to work another day in my life. I could retire. My head started to really pound. This was what I got for burning the candle at both ends. I needed at least 36 hours in the day to get everything done that I needed to do each day.

"Who are you looking for?" The man asked me. I could hear frustration coloring his tone.

"Ms. Jennifer Rathbone. This is the phone number that we have on file for her. Could I please speak with her?"

"There is no one here but me, and I don't know a Jennifer Rathbone." This was something that I heard on a daily basis. People loved to lie to try to get us off the debtor's track. Only a rookie would believe a line like that.

"Sir, if you could just let me speak with her, I'm sure that we can come to an amicable resolution to this debt."

"Listen," he said in a raised voice. "I told you that I don't know who the hell that person is. I don't even know if I have ever even known someone named Jennifer ever."

"Sir, if you'd let me..."

"Lady, I've had a shitty day, and you made it even shittier when your phone call made me drop my damn dinner on my living room carpet. I've told you more than once that I have no idea who that person is, and you need to remove me from your damned calling list right now!" Okay, that hurt my ear a little, so I moved the receiver away from my ear and covered the receiver with my hand. The headache was pounding ferociously now. It felt like a drum corps had taken up residence in my head.

"Fuck, my head hurts. The asshole didn't have to use a damn megaphone to talk to me on the phone," I whispered to myself as I rubbed my temples.

I swallowed thickly when I heard the next words from the person I called. "Did you just call me a fucking asshole?" the man raged. Holy shit! How had he heard me? I had covered the mouthpiece with my hand. I looked down and saw that my hand was indeed on the phone, but it was on the damn earpiece not the mouthpiece.

"Yes. I mean no. I didn't mean to," I spoke quickly to the man. "It's just you were so loud."

"You'd be loud too, lady, if your day had been like mine. You've got the wrong number. Jennifer Rathbone does not live here nor has she EVER! Do me a favor would you? TAKE. MY. DAMN. NUMBER. OUT. OF. YOUR. DATABASE. NOW!" He screamed.

I knew that I was over a barrel at this point. If this man reported me for cussing him out, I'd lose my job.

"Right away, sir. I'm sorry for any inconvenience. The number has been removed."

I threw my head back against the top of my chair. Maybe I should look for a job at McDonald's. There wouldn't be as many 4-letter words screamed at me at least. I sighed as I picked up my backpack and left the building.

The telemarketing office was within walking distance of my apartment, which was another reason I wanted to keep the job. Within five minutes I had made my way to the neighborhood grocery store.

I grabbed a shopping cart and headed to the produce section. I definitely needed an antioxidant boost if I was going to keep up this hectic pace with school and two jobs. I thought back to that last phone call at work. I needed a chocolate fix to help cure me of a new disease I'd just developed- diarrhea of the mouth.

EPOV

I could barely see straight because I was so pissed off. It figures that a damn telemarketer not only calls me for something that has nothing to do with me, but she also caused me to lose my dinner.

I trudged to the front door and put my shoes back on. The trip to the store couldn't wait now that my dinner was in a heap on my living room floor. As I opened my apartment door, my stomach rumbled loudly. I looked at myself in the mirror. I did look as bad as I felt. My hair was sticking up in disorderly spikes, my dress shirt was crumpled with the sleeves unbuttoned and pushed up unevenly on my forearms. My eyes were almost wild, and I really needed to shave. I rubbed my hands across my now almost 9 pm stubble as my stomach growled again.

There was a nice market just up the street. It was one of the reasons I picked this apartment. I knew with my crazy hours that I would need to have places extremely close so I could survive. Even my dry cleaner was within walking distance. I headed over to the store without a second thought. I needed food. Now.

I grabbed a cart and began to shop. They say that you shouldn't shop when you were hungry because you are more likely to buy more than you need. That was very true for me tonight. Within minutes, my cart was almost overflowing. When I looked at the contents, I realized it held more junk food than actual food. I grabbed a few things from the produce section before headed to frozen foods. TV dinners weren't the healthiest choice around, but with the hours I worked, I definitely needed something that I could eat quickly.

As I turned onto the aisle, the sight before me took my breath away. All I could was her profile with her wavy brown hair cascading down her back. She was wearing a pair of skin tight leggings paired with a baggy shirt. The leggings accentuated her long legs that seemed to go on forever. It look like she wasn't wearing any make-up, and she didn't need it. She was utter perfection with her small nose covered with a speckling of freckles. I just noticed her heart-shaped lips when she pulled her lower lip into her mouth and bit it. There was something about her that was familiar. As she turned to face me, I recognized her immediately.

She had just started working at the D.A.'s office. I had seen her from afar two days ago and had been dying to introduce myself to her. Unfortunately, my boss had other ideas and had whisked me into his office to discuss my now lost case. I'd wanted to take her out to lunch to talk, to get to know her, and, if I played my cards right, maybe get to know her in every way. I hadn't had the time to even think about being with a woman in a long time. My body was long overdue for a sweaty romp between the sheets. This woman was the first one in forever that I wanted to find the time to know intimately.

I remembered that I looked like death warmed over and headed to the section with my favorite meals and began cramming them into my cart. Tomorrow I would definitely look for her at the office and put my plan into action.

I wasn't looking where I was going and the next thing I knew I was looking into startled brown eyes and a blushing face.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," she told me. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

BPOV

I had seen him at the D.A.'s office and read about many of his cases because the man rarely lost. Assistant District Attorney Edward Cullen. Rumor around town was that in a few years he would be on track to be the D.A. If his current boss, Aro Sharp, had anything to say about it, Edward would never follow in his footsteps.

He was the most beautiful man that I'd ever seen. He looked good enough to eat in his crinkled dress pants and button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up giving me a glimpse of his powerful arms. My breath caught when I saw the stubble on his chiseled jaw. His incredible reddish brown hair was disheveled and I wanted to run my hands through the silky strands as my lips came to know every inch of his face. I wanted those whiskers brushing across every surface of my body.

Then I saw them. His hands. His fingers were huge as they clutched the cart. To have those hands knowing my body's secrets would be to know the most ultimate pleasure. I was sure of it. I had no doubt that this man had to be even more powerful in the bedroom that he was in the courtroom. My head still hurt, but this man could make other parts of me hurt so good that I would forget about that. I swallowed nervously as I noticed his piercing green eyes shooting my way.

As quickly as his eyes met mine, they were gone. Edward turned his attention toward the TV dinners. He probably hadn't been looking at me at all. He had just been shopping. Oh well, seeing Mr. Sex on Legs was definitely a pleasure after the nightmare phone call that ended my shift.

I had just placed my favorite ice cream, mint chocolate chip, in my cart when I started to move and found myself face to face with Edward Cullen.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," I said to him as I felt a blush creep into my face.

"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention. It's been a shitty day, and I'm just in a world of my own." Something about his voice seemed familiar. It was probably from press conferences I had seen on the news about his court cases.

"No harm done," I smiled at him.

"Well, it looks like we were after the same thing," Edward laughed. He also had the mint chocolate chip ice cream in his cart. "My name is Edward, Edward Cullen." He reached out his hand, and I felt a tingle in my fingers as his warm, firm hand clasped mine. I was right. Those hands would definitely work magic on me.

"I know who you are," I said quickly. "I've seen you at work at the D.A.'s office. I'm Bella Swan."

His eyes narrowed when I said my name.

"Bella?" He questioned me.

"Yes. I haven't had a chance to introduce myself to you yet. You've got quite a reputation as being the one that all defense attorneys want to beat. I'm getting my MA at SLU and am thinking about getting my JD. On top of that I have two jobs. Sorry," I laughed trying to break the tension that was suddenly filling the air. A girl knew when I guy wanted to get to know her. Edward definitely wanted to know me, but I got a sense that something else was going on. "I'm rambling. It's been one of those days, and I tend to ramble when I'm nervous."

His eyes narrowed into mine. It looked like he was trying to find the answer to some unspoken question.

"I know one of your jobs, since you happen to work in the office. What is your other job, Bella?"

The way he said my name felt like he already knew the answer… and was not happy about it.

"It's nothing to call home about. Just something to pay rent and buy mint chocolate chip cream. I also get to spend time studying while I work. That's the main reason that I took the job."

My head started throbbing even more under his intense scrutiny.

"It was you," Edward said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. My vision began to get a little blurry, so I rubbed the back of my neck to try to relieve the tension. This could only happen to me. I knew where his voice was from now. Jennifer Rathbone. Fuck my life.

I closed my eyes and moved my hand to massage my temples again as Edward asked, "Bella, are you alright?"

I felt the tears beginning to form. Unfortunately for me, tears were the way my body liked to express its embarrassment. I reached up to remove the moisture from my eyes but felt his firm fingers stroke the drops away. I leaned my face into his palm before he quickly moved it away from my face.

"I'm so, so sorry," I told him as the tears kept flowing uncontrollably. "I'm so embarrassed. I didn't mean to call you a name. I swear," I hiccupped. "This headache. A huge paper due. It's no excuse. I should have just sucked it up when you raised your voice on the phone. I know what I do is annoying, and I can't blame you for hating me. You can call and report me, too. I deserve it."

Edward moved closer to me and he took his hands in mine. "Bella, don't cry, please. I was a fucking asshole. I lost a case today, and my boss will likely never let me forget it. I was in a foul mood after a confrontation with him. I know that I took some of my frustration out on you. You were just doing your job."

He took one of his hands away from mine and wiped more of my tears away. I looked up into his brilliant eyes, and he didn't look angry like the man I had spoken to early.

"I'm still..." I said before Edward placed his finger across my lips to stop me from talking further.

"We've both had a shitty day. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let me take you out to dinner."

I was stunned but so excited to get his invitation. There was nothing I wanted more.

"What about our groceries?" I asked.

"I just live down the street and can meet you back here in about 30 minutes."

"I'd love to. It shouldn't take me long, since I just live down the street, too." Edward smiled and squeezed my hand.

We paid for our groceries and began walking the same direction.

"You live this way?" I asked him.

"Yes, I do," he told me. "You too?"

"Yeah. I live on 4th street," I said.

"Mansion House Apartments?" Edward asked as I said the same words.

"That's where I live too," we both said together with a laugh.

Despite the fact that the night started off horribly it turned out that wrong number might just be the right one after all.