Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thanks to NotEvenTheTrees for her mad beta skillz!


I had no more answers the next morning as I had the night before. Except one: I now know what UNOS stands for.

"I've got it!" I could hear Eric call from his bedroom as I was just about to fall asleep. "Bella, I remember where I've heard of UNOS before! Remember back season two of Grey's Anatomy, when Crazy Izzie connives to get the heart for Dead Denny?" Of course I did, but I let him continue on his diatribe. "UNOS is the organ people! That doctor was taking a donated organ to a hospital!" He paused briefly, "And if I had been the Chief, there would be no way in hell Izzie Stevens could've had a second chance at being a doctor…"

I had a difficult time trying to sleep after that, deciding that softly playing "Angel from Montgomery" on Charlie's guitar for a few moments would help to soothe me and unravel the mess of my mind.

The morning came too quickly, but I needed to get to the market before the other produce managers did. I enjoy the early mornings, especially the time just before the sun gets up. I felt safest then and more alive than at any other time of the day.

"Good morning, Laurent!" I called from the sidewalk. Laurent was a shady character, to say the least. He would save good produce for me since I spoke to him in a respectful manner. And, even though I never attempted to haggle with him, he always gave me the best prices.

"Good morning to you, lady!" Laurent called back. He tugged on his ear, our secret signal that he had something special for me that day. It made me uncomfortable that he did it only for me, as if there was something that he would someday want in exchange. But my boss, Garrett, never had anything but the highest praise for my produce selection, so I continued to return to Laurent's stand daily.

"What is the one thing you are short of at Katrina's? What is the one thing that every restaurant on the East Side has missing from their menu?" Laurent asked in a low voice.

"Truffles?" My eyes were alight. If he saved truffles for me, a very big favor must be coming. "When did Santiago return from Italy?"

"Only last night. They are in very good condition. I know you do not carry much cash, but I will reserve some for you and bring them with your delivery at eight. You may pay me then."

"Thank you so much for accommodating me, Laurent. Garrett will be very happy to include truffles again on the menu." I smiled warmly, looking over his selection. He was right, the truffles were exceptional. "Please reserve these three for me Laurent. Could you bring whatever else you don't sell with the morning delivery? I know that Garrett would also like to have a look."

Laurent winked at me as he put my truffles aside. I handed him the list of produce I needed. The more expensive items I hand selected and put in my portable cart. I would prep these items while waiting for Laurent's daily delivery to arrive. I never felt the need to go to any of the other grocers' stands. I may not be entirely comfortable in my working relationship with Laurent, but it was much better than starting over with a different grocer.

I thanked Laurent, paid him for the produce I was taking and headed off with my cart. It was about six blocks to Katrina's from there, but I enjoyed the walk. The city was coming alive. The air was getting warmer but it was not yet as heavy as the night before.

I was about to send Garrett a text letting him know about Laurent's impending truffle delivery when I noticed an unread text from a few hours before. Angela had arrived safely home and was disappointed that I didn't know the mystery doctor.

Being reminded of the doctor got me thinking about him again. I unlocked the kitchen door to Katrina's, quickly disarming the alarm system. I set the panic button to standby just as quickly. While heading to my prep station, I couldn't help but replay the events of the night before. Really, was I such a boring person that mere coincidences could be construed as events?

I began preparing the produce after glancing over that evening's menu. I knew exactly how long it would take to chop, slice and julienne the produce before our errand-runner, Nahuel, would arrive. He would take any leftover produce from the night before, clearing out the refrigerator for the produce I was about to prepare. Inevitably, my mind began to wander.

I enjoy routine, I suppose. As far as I am concerned, spontaneity usually spells disaster. Variety in the routine is okay, just as long as I know what to expect. Produce shop, prep, go home, go to second job at a book store, play guitar on Thursday nights, rinse, repeat. I date on occasion, but so many unsavory experiences have almost pulled me out of the game. I am okay with that. Almost. If I'm honest with myself, I'm a lonely person. But if I avoid addressing it, no harm can come.

I exchanged pleasantries with Nahuel when he arrived to load up the previous day's produce for the soup kitchen. Garrett insisted that I buy too much every day in order to be prepared for a lot of customers. But it also made him happy knowing that any additional produce was going to those that were hungry. "A good meal makes more of a difference to those who need it than those who can afford it," he had once said to me.

I eyed the clock after completing my first round of prep. I had at least ten minutes before Laurent's arrival, so I sat in the office and made my daily calls. I opened my cell phone to see another missed text message from Angela.

Call me. I'm still awake. Unfortunately.

"Good morning Bella," Ben said once he answered the phone. He was always up this early; his job demanded it of him. "Thank you for sending my bride home in one piece." I loved that he still referred to Angela as his bride even though they were no longer newlyweds. "Let me get her for you."

"Thank you Ben. Have a good day at work. See you soon." Much too soon. I liked Ben a lot, but I was still dreading the impending flight home.

Without saying hello or even good morning, Angela started firing off questions before she could forget them. "Okay, so, I remembered what it was that I forgot while I was with you in New York. As soon as I saw Ben I remembered what it was. The next time you talk to your mom, will you ask her how she and Charlie came up with naming you Isabella Marie? We'd like to have some meaning behind the name of our baby, too. You had mentioned once that it was a family name."

"I was planning on calling Renee this morning anyway, Ang, so I will certainly ask for you." I admit I was a little curious myself. I knew that it was a family name on the Swan side but I wasn't sure how far back that name went.

"You work at the book store tonight, right?" Angela yawned. "Call me later and let me know what she says. I need to get some sleep!"

I hung up the phone, glancing at the clock. It was almost eight a.m. Laurent would be arriving soon. It would be the perfect time to call my mom who would rattle on unless I had something to kill the conversation. The kitchen buzzer announcing Laurent's arrival would do the trick.

"Good morning, Mom." My mother had yet to wake up. She always asked me to call around now anyway. I suspected it was because she hadn't figured out how to program the alarm and was too embarrassed to ask her husband, Phil, how to do it. They lived in Florida, where he played for a minor league baseball team.

"Good morning, baby," she yawned into the receiver. "What do you have planned for today? Anything fun?"

"Nothing too exciting, no," was my reply. "Say, I was talking to Angela…"

"How is she doing? Didn't she visit or something? I bet she is just glowing by now! Speaking of visiting, I'm going to postpone my visit until after you're back from Angela's. The crime rate in New York is too high right now and Phil won't be able to join me until his season is over, and they might make it to the post-season, isn't that great?" She was beginning to prattle.

"Hey, Mom," I cut her off. "The produce guy is going to be here any minute with my food. I just need to ask you a quick question before I go. Angela wanted to know why you and Charlie decided to name me Isabella Marie."

Renee was quiet for a moment, which was rare for her. "Well, Charlie wanted to name you Isabella Marie after his great-great or great-great-great… anyway… I can't believe he never told you this story…"

"It's entirely possible he did, I just didn't pay much attention at the time," I offered.

"Your great-great-whatever-grandmother was the last known civilian casualty of the first World War. She was accidentally killed or something. I think there is a book out that mentions the details if you're really interested. Anyway, Charlie thought that was pretty cool and so did I, so there you have it. You were named after her. I think her last name was Bain or something…"

There must be thousands of books on World War I, but this is the most I could get from my mother before I heard the kitchen buzzer. "Mom, thanks, I have to go. My grocer is here with the rest of my produce. I'll let Angela know. I love you." As I hung up the phone, I began to remember what Charlie had told me about the incident and I had to admit that my interest was piqued.

I got to the kitchen door to let Laurent in, only to be surprised by Garrett.

"Hey Bella, I forgot my key. I'm glad you let me know about the truffles. I was just on my way to take Kate to her office and we thought we'd stop by before heading downtown."

Garrett was a great chef to work for. Katrina's wasn't a top rated restaurant, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He did not micro-manage; in fact sometimes I'd only see him once or twice a week. His wife, Kate, is very smart, very beautiful and the restaurant's namesake. They had offered me a job even when I was unable to finish culinary school. It was difficult to find a restaurant's produce manager with only a certificate instead of a diploma, but that was the case with me. They took a chance and I had no plans to let them down.

The love that Garrett and Kate shared was an equal partnership built from mutual respect, trust and admiration, and similar to what I imagined I'd want for myself one day. I didn't consider myself a friend of Kate's, I was much too intimidated by her beauty. I did look to her as a mentor though, both professionally and personally. She rarely visited the restaurant in the mornings with Garrett. She only came by in the evenings to visit with the clientele and look over the books. I would be gone by that time unless Garrett needed me to fill in for the sous chef.

"Bella!" she beamed at me and came forward for a hug. She was a bit taller than me and had to stoop to reach me properly. I desperately hoped in that moment that my antiperspirant was still working as I didn't usually shower until I'd gotten home from kitchen work. She whispered in my ear, "I have a new assistant that I'd like you to meet. He's very cute. Interested?"

I couldn't help but blanch at her remark and was very grateful that she hadn't looked at my face yet. It was getting redder by the minute. "Oh, umm, thanks…" I started until the kitchen buzzer sounded once more. "That must be Laurent." Saved by the bell, again.

Garrett examined the extra truffles and ended up paying an obscene amount for them. But, Garrett got his truffles and Laurent got his money, so they were both satisfied. Garrett had once promised to show me how to make his special truffle oil, but until then I was too nervous to even handle them. He commented that the three truffles I had selected earlier were the best quality he'd ever seen. I smiled at his compliment.

The three of them left at the same time, leaving me in the empty kitchen. Kate did not bring up her assistant again and I think she could tell I was relieved. I didn't want to be pressured. I know someone would find me someday, and I was in no hurry. Too many risks. When Angela or Eric tried fixing me up, I'd gently remind them that the right guy for me might not be in New York, he might be half way across the world. Eric often teased that my soul mate was probably born at another time too. He knew I'd say anything to get out of a blind date.

My morning task complete, I headed home for a shower and a quick nap. Eric was at work, so I walked around the apartment in little more than a towel. Not that Eric would've minded in the least. He did the same every chance he got, even when I was home.

I took a moment to look myself over in the mirror, not entirely happy with what I saw but not too upset either. My body looked lived in, the product of gaining and losing weight in turn. My brownish-red hair was getting long again, mostly because my hair was always pulled back. Eric would insist on giving me a trim the next time he saw it down, I was certain of that.

I usually worked at a corner music-slash-bookstore-slash-coffee shop in the evenings. I grabbed my messenger bag and a light jacket because the sun would surely be down before I got off of work at nine.

I spent some of my time stocking shelves and cataloging music and the rest of the time searching for books. Anything that might include Isabella Marie Bain. My search netted three different titles and we only had two of those titles in stock; one was a new release with two copies available in the store. I would have to look for them on my coffee break.

The shift manager, Shelly, called me over to her station. "Hey Bella, we're looking a little slow and overstaffed tonight. Do you want to go early?" Shelly knew that I wasn't exactly working there for the money since I usually turned around and spent my paychecks on books and music anyway.

"Sure, if you don't mind. I'm going to go clock out and look around if that's okay. Speaking of, if you happen to see this title, could you let me know?" I handed her a piece of paper with the book names and authors.

I went into the back to clock out and grab my things then sent Eric a quick text asking him if he could walk me home as it was now past dark. I grabbed a coffee to go and headed toward the History section.

I found the first book rather easily and scanned it quickly before deciding to buy it. The second book, which was a pictorial history, was missing from its place. Someone in the store had bought it since I looked it up mere hours before. Or one of the copies was misplaced. Darn.

I turned to head to the register, but before I could get there I was stopped by a customer. "Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find…" I turned around to see the person addressing me. It was the doctor. He wasn't looking directly at me as he spoke. I looked down, noticing the apron I forgot to take off when I clocked out. He looked up to finish his sentence, making eye contact with me. As his eyes met mine, he dropped the book he was holding. I kneeled forward to pick it up, half-embarrassed and half-curious to know what he had selected.

It was the book I was looking for. What were the chances that he was here, looking for the same book I was? Was my imagination getting the better of me again? After all, I didn't get that great of a look at the doctor last night. But what were the chances that the doctor from last night and this man before me were the same? They both had the same shade of bronze hair. Yesterday he was wearing formless scrubs, while this man was wearing a dark v-neck t-shirt and jeans.

He took a step back to get a better look at me. I flushed at the attention but was unsure why. "May I ask your name?" His voice was barely audible yet I detected a very slight English accent.

Automatically I shook my head and whispered, "No."

We stood there, looking at each other unabashedly. As if staring at him might reveal his secrets or that my recollection of him might be complete. The longer I looked, the more stunning he became. His features were nothing if not perfect.

I was far from flawless so I was at a loss as to why he was staring back at me so intensely. My mousy brown hair had come almost completely out of its clip and I was wearing an apron. Utterly forgettable.

"Bella," Shelly called from behind the mystery doctor, startling the both of us and breaking our eye contact. "Oh, sorry," she quickly amended, noticing the remnants of an intensity between us. It was too late. The spell was broken. He glanced quickly at the name tag dangling from the lanyard around my neck and a slight smile played on his lips. I held his book out, which he took earnestly and made for the checkout without another glance in my direction.

"I found the second copy of that book you were looking for earlier. It was shelved in the music section by accident." Shelly handed it to me.

"Th-thanks," I looked up to see if the mystery doctor was at the front of the store.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern tainting her voice. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Um, yeah. Wait. No. No." I shook my head. "Eric will be here to get me soon, I think." Satisfied, she walked away. I grabbed my phone from my bag again, wishing I could keep my eye on the door. I needed to see him walk out of the door and for Eric to walk in. Eric's message was unread on my cell phone.

I'm working late with Ted tonight. Cab, ok? Txt when you get home.

"Damn," I muttered, dialing a cab company. I made my way to the front of the store, the doctor apparently gone. After paying for my books, I paced at the front door, waiting for my cab to arrive. I wasn't about to wait outside.

I began to wonder why the doctor had asked me for my name. That seemed very forward of him. Either way, he got what he was after since Shelly said it and he confirmed it by my nametag. And what was with the all the staring? I enjoyed my view, but I couldn't quite grasp why his gaze was so intense.

A car's horn broke my reverie, the cab had arrived. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, I saw a black sedan slowly begin to pull away. A mop of bronze hair was barely visible from its backseat.