EPOV

I couldn't take it anymore, my kidneys were killing me. I had to pee. I was glad that my handcuffs were in front of me at least I had the advantaged to pulling my zipper down.

I grabbed the cup and relieved myself. I placed it back on the table and placed the lid.

Shortly after I adjusted my pants, the door opened.

"Pretty boy, you have company," Officer Bob walked in followed by a girl. Her face was hidden by her long brown hair. She slugged on the chair and kept her head down.

"Play nice you two," he teased.

I stared at him as he looked at his watch, "Well it's 5 minutes till twelfth, hope you two enjoy your New Year's kiss," he turned around and locked the door behind him leaving me with the girl.

After a couple of minute, I began to worry. I wasn't sure if she was alright, she sat motionless with her head down. She wore black clothing from head to toe, a long sleeve shirt, black jeans and a pair of converse. I was pretty sure she was not a prostitute.

I wanted to remain silent, but I was afraid she may have passed out.

"Hey are you okay?"

No answer.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," she spoke as she lifted her head and stared at me. Her long hair covered her eyes, but I could tell she was looking at me.

"Good, I was afraid you passed out."

"Nope, I was just concentrating." She lowered her head back down again.

"Why?"

"I am trying to. Get this. Handcuffs off. There." She tossed the handcuff across the room, "That feels much better."

She stood up and turned around, her back faced me and she started to remove her jacket revealing a black tan top and her figure. Her jean were tight against her skin.

She had a great figure, not that I was interested

Out of nowhere she pulled out a rubber band and tied her hair back. Her skin was pale white. She had an emblem tattooed right below her hair line. I couldn't recognize the design but it was integrate.

After adjusting her hair, she headed towards the door and kneeled down.

"What are you doing?" I asked, curious to see what she was planning on doing.

"Picking the lock," she replied.

"Can you at least help me with my handcuff?" Surely she wouldn't just leave me with these on.

"Sorry, I work solo"

"Come on, please. I'll beg if you like." I stood up from my chair and started to kneel down, but she stopped me.

"Don't. I'll help you." She sighted and walked towards me, her head still looking at the linoleum floor, "Give me your hands."

She kept her distance never touching my wrist only the metal. I noticed a large scratch along her left arm.

"What happened to your arm?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it"

She remained silent as she worked on the handcuffs and even thought she kept averting her eyes from me. I could see them, dark brown.

She kept biting her low lip as she pronged the paperclip into the hole.

"There," she removed the handcuffs and handed them to me, "you're free"

"Thanks"

She lifted her head; her eyes stared right through me. They were dark, dark chocolate, "You're welcome" she said, but before I could say anything she retrieved back to the door.

I didn't know why, but I wanted to see her eyes again. I was intrigued by her, her demeanor was reserved; only spoke a couple of sentences, brief and to the point, but there was something else that I was attracted to. She was different, not like other girls. They usually talked a lot and they would've been crying to the sight of this place, but she wasn't. She showed no fear.

"I am Edward by the way."

Nothing

"Are you from around here?"

No response

I'm going to have to do all the talking

"What are you in for? You wouldn't believe what they accused me of –"

"Listen, you seem like a nice guy, but I would rather stay quiet for your own good."

What is that suppose to mean?

"My own good?"

She turned around making eye contact for the second time, "Let me guess, by the looks of your clothing, your not who you appear to be. Your finger nails give you away."

My clothes, I was wearing dark blue jeans and a faded gray long sleeve shirt, a common thing to wear, nothing out of the ordinary.

"My finger nails?"

"You could tell a lot about a person by the looks of their hands."

"So what do you see?" This should be interesting.

"Well, you have a lucrative job, enough that you're content with, but it doesn't make you happy. I can see right through you, you're lost. You're hungry for more, but you can't… something is holding you back. You probably have the same routine day in and day out until tonight, something changed."

"What changed?" I stood from the chair and walked across the room, towards her.

"Well, it's so obvious that this is your first time here, but you don't fear it, like most people should. As if you know this process," she turned around and began to pick the lock, "You probably were at the wrong place at the right time. Am I right?"

I was shocked, I hadn't said anything about myself other than my name and she was able to come up with her own version of Edward, but it wasn't her version, it was the version of many people in this city.

And she was right.

She turned around to face me, "Am I?"

I nodded.

"I knew it," She smiled.

Interesting, her smile made me smile.

"Has anyone told you how beautiful you look when you smile?"

What am I saying? For all I know she could be a killer, but she was absolutely intriguing.

Her checks turned pink at my comment and she stood up and walked up to me.

"Look Romeo," she placed her index finger on my chest, "Do NOT try your lame pick up lines on me."

She was defensive obviously over reacting by the mere fact.

"It may be lame, but it's the truth." She removed her finger from my chest and looked down at the coffee cup.

"I see you pee on it already; you know that's evidence now."

What?

"Evidence?"

She turned around and walked back to the door, "Of course, Mr. Cullen, I am pretty sure they don't even know who you are," she stared back at me smiling, "Yet that is"

I was stunned, she knew who I was.

"How did you know my name?"

"I may not look refined Mr. Cullen, but I read the newspaper. I saw your picture there last week, at a charity event," her smile widened at my reaction. I was completely dumbfounded. I didn't even know her name and she knew everything about me.

If she told anyone, it won't be good. Not that I cared about my reputation, but I did care about my family's reputation, it would be jeopardized.

"You can't tell anyone about this…me being here that is."

"Don't worry, I know guys like you." She said as she continued to play with the lock.

I walked over to her and lean on against the door frame.

"Hey your shadow is on my way." She spoke softly.

"Sorry" I pulled away and stood to the side, "What do you mean you know guys like me?"

"Look I am not here to give you a course on your type. Now if you don't mind, I'm working."

I didn't know why I needed to know what she thought of me, but she was the first person who actually stood her ground. All others will only tell me what I wanted to hear, right down to my parent and friends.

I kneeled down and placed my hand on her shoulder," Tell me"

"Please reframe from touching me."

"I will if you tell me what type am I"

"Fine," she shook her shoulder away from my hand, "But first, do you have a credit card with you?"

"What, you want me to pay you?"

"No, Mr. Cullen, this paperclip is not working, I need plastic." She looked around the room.

"That only works in the movies, MacGyver."

"Maybe it does maybe it doesn't," she replied as she walked toward the desk and pulled out all the drawers, "Well this should work."

She held a plastic cover sheet and began to fold it.

"What will that do?" I asked wondering what kind of magic show she was going to give me.

"Don't worry about." She moved passed me, her shoulder lightly touched my chest.

I've never seen a girl worked so hard not get noticed. She had flawless skin, no make-up, not that she needed it, high check bones, and eyes that could pierce right through you, like her words, it was honest. Hiding nothing, maybe that's why she keeps her eyes on the ground.

She lowered her body to the ground, keeping her knees on the floor, while her upper body leaned towards the lock. Her ass swung side to side as tried to jam the plastic between strike plate and door frame.

"Will you stop staring at my ass?"

"Sorry," I tried to look somewhere else, but my eyes kept going back to her, "So are you doing to tell me?"

"Fine I'll tell you, but you have to stop staring."

"Do you have eyes in back of your head," how did she know?

"Like I said, I know says like you. You look at the things you can't have, in my case people"

"Well you think very highly of yourself," I teased.

"I don't, but you are staring at me because guys like you are always fascinated by women like me, you know the ones that so call 'different'. But, I know you wouldn't do anything about it because you can't."

"What makes you think I can't?"

"Because, like I said you can't, you wouldn't ruin your reputation to be seen by someone like me. I pretty sure you only dated woman of high society."

"Well you are wrong in that part."

"Really? Well then, what's her name?"

"Who?"

"The woman who has your heart, the one you love unconditionally no matter where she comes from." She turned around waiting for my response.

But I had none

The last woman I was with couldn't stay with me because of my last name.

She worked across the street from my apartment, in a coffee shop. We were dating for over a month and I enjoyed her company, she was very intelligent but as the weeks passed by she no longer was the same person I first met. Everything changed when she had me choice between her and my family. She threatened to leave me if I didn't take her to the charity auction. I didn't understand why she wanted to go, I didn't want to go. I told her that I didn't care for those kinds of things, but she didn't believe me. She became so insecure with herself; she thought my family didn't want her there, that they wanted someone with 'a higher status' as she called it. I thought she knew me and my family better than that, but just like the others my last name was their competition. I never understood that. I was heartbroken by her assumptions.

"Monica that was her name." I responded.

"Why isn't she here to bail you out?"

"We're not together anymore, she broke up with me."

"I see," she turned back around wedging the plastic through.

"What do you see?"

I needed to know

She turned around, her eyes bore on mine, "That it was her lost."

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