This is slightly extended from my O/S in the CPS contest (I guess its now a quick read). I know Bossward has been done so many times and many things will be similar to the other fics and storys out there.

Thank you Urban dictionary for Bosshole (I had to search a name for him)

I do not own twilight.

Thank you once again to Sherry, like always I couldn't have done this without her.

I will add the O/S at the end.

Bella

My hand shook as I straightened out my skirt. Okay, Bella. You can do this.

This was my first day and I was so nervous. Three years of hard work and dedication had paid off, and today I would be employed in my chosen field. Something that not many college graduates could say. I always enjoyed working with numbers, it was something I was good at. So, it was only natural that my job entailed me working with them.

Walking into the huge building; I looked around feeling overwhelmed. Everything was modern looking, elegant, and I felt a little out of place.

There was security personnel stationed everywhere. Cullen Enterprises is the top company in their field. Buying failing businesses and often selling them for a huge profit. I guess that pissed of many people so the need for security was understandable. Though this seemed a little extreme to me, just on the ground floor alone I counted fifteen security guards.

Making my way to the reception area I spoke with the pretty receptionist who pointed me towards the elevator; she informed me that I had to check-in with a Mrs. Cope on the 2nd floor.

I knocked on the door identified as Human Resources, I heard a sweet voice tell me to enter.

"Please take a seat."

"Good morning, I'm Isabella Swan, I'm here for my first day in Accounting," I smiled at the older woman.

Mrs. Cope, the head of Human Resources, glanced at me with a kind smile. "Good morning, Miss Swan, welcome to Cullen Enterprises." She opened the drawer to her left and pulled out a file, clearly labeled Isabella Swan and looked at me in apology. "I'm afraid there has been a change of plans."

My smile dropped, you must be kidding me. I couldn't have been fired before I even started. "I'm not following."

"Mr. Cullen's assistant quit unexpectedly yesterday." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Between you and me, she was sleeping with one of the married partners and got burned."

Great, but what does that have to do with me? I waited for her to continue, but she seemed to be waiting for me to comment.

"Well, that's unfortunate. Although, I don't know what Mr. Cullen's assistant quitting has to do with me." I wasn't sure what else to say. I researched the company when I first applied for the job and his name popped up.

Edward Cullen was CEO and Chairman of the Board of Cullen Enterprise. When I'd searched on the internet I'd found very little on the billionaire, except an interview with the Business Times, and an angry Facebook rant from a former employee; who called him Bosshole due to the fact that the only time he came out of his office was to fire someone.

"Well, as Cullen Enterprise's newest employee it falls to you to stand-in until a suitable replacement can be found. It shouldn't take longer than a couple of weeks."

I gulped, I didn't want to work for Bosshole. "Isn't this a little unusual, I'm an accountant, not a personal assistant."

"You won't be a personal assistant."

I turned to face the deep, male voice. A tall man leaned against the door frame. I looked from his shiny black shoes, up his black trousers and suit jacket, past his white shirt, and red tie to a pair of emerald green eyes.

Wow.

"You'll be an assistant." He walked over to me. "The assistant to the Chairman of the Board. You will have a lot of responsibilities. I hope you can keep up." His lips thinned, "Do you have a problem with that?"

I froze, he was intimidating and I couldn't seem to make a sound.

"Good." He turned and headed to the door. "I'll give you twenty minutes to complete all your paperwork, then I want you to report to my office."

He walked out and I could only stare at the empty space where he stood.

"He's a tornado."

Obviously, the pay here made Mrs. Cope unable to voice the truth, he was an asshole. No, he was Bosshole.

"I take it that's Edward Cullen." I couldn't believe how rude he was.

"In the handsome flesh."

I must have looked upset.

"Listen, Miss Swan, I know this isn't what you expected, so I am going to be totally honest with you. Edward Cullen is a brilliant businessman, but he's strict and a little paranoid. He built this company on his own, from the ground up, and he trusts no one. He never discloses what he's working on fully to his staff. He just gives you what you need to know." She looked at me and sighed, "None of the other employees were willing to take the job."

Great.

~CC~

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Edward

I was around seven years old when I began to experience obsessions and compulsions. I felt that if I did not shut the window four times or turn the lights on and off, then something terrible would happen. I couldn't figure out exactly what would happen, but a feeling of dread overcame me if I held off the urge. I had a fear of stepping on pavement cracks, I don't know why, but it made me physically uncomfortable if I did it.

I remember many of my foster families making comments that I was weird, a loner or simply quirky. Which led me to being passed from family to family over the years.

It wasn't until the Cullen's adopted me when I was fourteen that I gained answers to why I behaved in such a way. I had no idea what OCD was, no one had mentioned it to me until Dr. Cullen had taken me in. He witnessed my breakdowns on many occasions and had quickly diagnosed me.

I felt alone and thought that I was the only person in the world who had these silly quirks, until he brought me into his office to explain his thoughts on my behavior. That led to me being placed into behavioral therapy, it helped greatly, but obviously didn't stop the compulsions I felt.

Throughout my college years my OCD developed into checking things were correct and counting in my head, until things felt right. My work was often praised for being thorough and precise; but I became increasingly anxious, and at times became incredibly introverted. I did my best not to show what was happening to anyone else for fear of being seen as weak.

I would wake from vivid and disturbing dreams in cold sweats; heart pounding and feeling an intensity of despair because I didn't check the window four times or close the curtain so there was no gap. I continued accepting that this was how life was from now on.

To get through social events I would drink or take cocaine in order to appear confident and to suppress my anxiety.

That lasted two years into college before Carlisle noticed my deteriorating condition. I had come home for the holidays and my adoptive mother, Esme, had organized a party. That night I had done a couple of lines before enjoying a few glasses of whisky. I spoke to everyone in the room, charming everyone with my social skills.

Carlisle had been watching me closely throughout the night, that should have been a warning, but the drugs made me unable to pick up on his obvious observations of me.

The following morning I had woken up and followed him into his office, where he had produced a small bag of cocaine. Not wanting him to think I was a chronic user I explained my need for it, especially when put in social situations.

He had asked me to go back to therapy, informing me that I didn't need to be very social if it made me resort to drugs.

Over the years; therapy has made me able to interact with people in social situations without the use of drugs, at least for a small amount of time.

I still had a reputation for being difficult. I didn't like people, so I would make it so I didn't have to deal with them often. That was something I didn't see changing anytime soon.

I had walked down to Mrs. Cope's office, looking for my new assistant. I had been in my office for an hour and I didn't like having to wait. I had things to do and the time I had lost doing my assistant's job made me edgy and short-tempered.

Before I could enter I heard someone speak, "Isn't this a little unusual, I'm an accountant, not a personal assistant."

Ah, yes, my new assistant was supposed to start in Accounting today. I had a long interview process before anyone was hired and Mrs. Stanley's untimely departure had messed up my hiring process. Well, tough, if she wanted to work for my company she had better learn to follow my rules.

Standing in the doorway, I spoke. "You won't be a personal assistant." She would not be dealing with anything personal, a shiver worked through me at the thought of her making my coffee. She was sure to get it wrong.

"You'll be an assistant." I walked over to her. "The assistant to the Chairman of the Board. You will have a lot of responsibilities. I hope you can keep up." I couldn't believe she was acting so ungrateful, my day had already been turned upside down. I didn't have time for this. "Do you have a problem with that?"

I took her in, she wore flat shoes, a brown skirt with a plain white shirt, obviously not designer, but not inappropriate looking. She had her hair tied in a low ponytail and no makeup at all. Her eyes wide as she stared at me, not speaking. Obviously she had no problem.

"Good." I turned and headed to the door. "I'll give you twenty minutes to complete all your paperwork, then I want you to report to my office."

I could spare twenty minutes, good God, today was going to be a mess. My entire day had become unorganized and I didn't like it.

Miss Swan had better learn her place or she would find herself out of a job.

OCD info taken from Wiki and medical sources online, (it may not be accurate) No offence intended. This is the only EPOV.