This little idea was brought up when the FGB2 team was brainstorming what they wanted to have me write for the TMWCBM outtake, and I absolutely loved it. I told Claire that I'd write it regardless of whether it was actually chosen or not, but after thinking about it, I wanted to do something for the people who did the most for this team and decided to write this and give it to you as a thank you.

So thank you.

Chapter 1 Outtake

Edward

"Mr. Masen?" a rough voice called out from the blackness of the auditorium in the Kodak Theater. "Could you and Ms. Davison move a few steps to the left?"

I grumbled my complaints to Maggie as we moved directly into the blinding light. We'd been rehearsing this five-minute-long presentation for over thirty minutes now, thanks to a few technical mishaps.

With no end in sight.

"I'm blind now. Great," she muttered.

"And could you repeat your lines for the presentation? We're going to test the sound again."

"Bloody hell."

I forced a smile to my face and focused on the teleprompter, feeling quite lucky that the print was large enough that I could read it without my glasses and didn't look like a complete git. Maggie and I executed the scripted banter and ran through the motions of moving to the side of the stage—once again—so that our bodies didn't block the audience's view of the large projection screen that would be lowered down after we'd read all our lines.

"Finally! We got it! Thank you!" the producer called out to us. "Okay, next up is Ms. Denali."

I stifled a curse and smiled down at Maggie. "I suppose I'd better find her or I might get in trouble when I get home, eh?"

Maggie giggled and pushed her curly red hair back off her shoulder. "That's probably smart. Tanya doesn't seem too much like the laid back type."

I smiled politely. If only she knew how high-strung and self-centered the woman really was.

"Not usually, no. I'll see you Sunday," I replied, waving slightly as I walked away.

I started backstage and searched for Tanya, knowing that I'd need to keep up appearances for a few minutes while I was here. I spotted her screeching orders at her assistant, not bothering to slow her speech so that the poor girl could take note of everything properly.

"Um, did you say red, Ms. Denali?" the assistant asked shakily.

Tanya's eyes flashed dangerously. "Did you not just listen to a fucking word I said?"

I decided it was time to save the poor girl before she died of fright.

"Tanya!" I called out, lacing my voice with faux admiration. "How much longer will you be, darling?"

Tanya spun around and immediately got into character. "Not long," she answered with a huge smile.

I made my way over to her and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Dinner at my place?" I asked, loud enough so that the gawking grips could hear my every word.

"That's great. Make me some of that amazing poached salmon of yours, will you?" She stared up at me with a playful pout. "Please?"

"All right. I'll see you in a bit." I moved away from Tanya and glanced over at the cowering assistant. "And Tanya did, in fact, say red."

The assistant beamed up at me before scurrying away. "Thanks."

"You should be nicer to your employees," I muttered. "They quit, and you're forced to search for another. It's not pleasant."

"She's not going to quit," Tanya shot back. "She needs this job."

"So did Gianna," I replied. "But things change. Trust me. You don't want to spend weeks going through bogus applications and resumes from fans who simply want to get closer to you. Not to mention all the background checks required to interview an actual candidate…" I trailed off, fairly certain I'd gotten my point across.

"Fine," she huffed.

"Fine. See you."

I stared toward the exit and was joined by Gianna on the way. "Nice work. Very believable."

"Thank you," I answered, flashing a crooked grin. "I not only got to show off my phenomenal acting skills, but I got to complain about you leaving me as well. Not bad, I say."

She laughed. "Edward, come on. I like working for you, but it's not like I want to make a career out of being someone's assistant. Law school's been my dream-"

"I know," I interrupted waving her off. "And I'm genuinely happy that you got into the school you wanted. But searching for a replacement has been… tiring."

"Well, it's not like you have anything better to do."

I pretended to be offended. "I beg your pardon? What do you think I do when you're not around? Sit on my arse all night long?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I laughed. "You know me well."

She nodded and punched something into the Blackberry. "Ah, crap. I've got to pick up your suit for Sunday tonight before they close. They won't be open over the weekend."

"Go. I think I'll take a walk."

Her hazel eyes snapped to mine. "In this neighborhood? Are you nuts?"

"Did you forget about my sweatshirt?" She still eyed me dubiously. "It'll be fine. I'll go pick up Samson. You can take my car and meet me there… What did you say the name of it was again?"

"Groomingdale's."

"Right. Odd name."

She shrugged. "Not really. It's a play on Bloomingdale's. Kind of catchy."

I threw her the keys and opened the passenger's seat to retrieve the black sweatshirt I always kept with me. "Don't leave your boss hanging. Or I'll hold your last few paychecks hostage."

I slipped the sweatshirt on and pulled the hood up over my head before starting down the sidewalk in the direction of the grooming shop. I smiled to myself as a foreigner started pointing excitedly to a particular star on the Walk of Fame beside me. The boulevard was swarming with tourists, and so I made sure that I kept my head down so that I wouldn't be noticed as I made my way out of the crowd. The moment someone did, I'd have to run and lock myself in a storage closet so that I had enough quiet to call the police to save me from all the madness.

I took another step forward, only to collide into someone quite small. I instinctively reached out to catch the person. Once I had her securely in my arms, I looked down at and had the wind knocked out of me. She was the single most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

Her dark hair blew gently with the breeze; her wide, chocolate eyes stared up at me in question. Her plump lips parted as she stood still, dazed, and for a fleeting second, I wondered if she'd recognized me.

Her scent hit me like a tidal wave, and I no longer cared if she had. She could scream out my name in the midst of all these people and none of it would matter, so long as I could keep a hold of her forever.

But that was ridiculous. I didn't know this woman at all.

I grudgingly let her go, allowing my fingers to graze down the creamy skin of her arms as I did so. My body hummed as we connected, and I nearly groaned as the sensation went straight to my groin.

It was the first time any woman had elicited that specific reaction from me in over two years, and she had done it by simply breathing.

She shook her head slightly and blinked before clearing her throat. "Sorry," she murmured.

Her voice shocked me silent, and it was all I could do to nod my acknowledgement to her as I moved away from her. My body screamed in protest as I walked away, but I knew it was impossible to talk to her. People, in general, could never keep their excitement contained when speaking to me. And while I could handle the press and frenzy of fans requesting autographs and photos, I would never cause such commotion around someone so… real.

No matter how much I selfishly wanted to.

I woke up to the shrill sound of my mobile ringing, pulling me out of the most erotic dream of my life. The woman from outside the Kodak Theatre had starred in my fantasies every day for the last two weeks; fantasies that in all honesty, made me feel like a thirteen-year-old boy again. I wanted to revel in the drone that touching her skin created and taste her perfect, pouty lips. Imagining what those perfect lips would look like wrapped around my pecker proved to be quite enjoyable, along with the dreams I'd been having of getting inside her tight body. She'd feel like glory, like my own little slice of heaven surrounding me.

I groaned with need and fumbled for the mobile, attempting to ignore the pain in my groin as I answered.

I was going to have to take care of that immediately if I expected to get through the day.

Gianna ran through the schedule for the day, reminding me that a certain friend-of-a-friend of hers would be by later to interview for the job as my PA. I racked my brain for the name of the girl I was supposed to meet with, only to draw a blank. I'd let Gianna handle everything with this one since I'd been so bloody distracted by this… deity I'd begun to worship; I hadn't even wanted to run through her background check myself.

Once reminded that the girl's name was Isabella Swan, I ended the call and changed into my gym clothes before letting Samson out and heading down to the basement to work out.

I ran hard, trying to work out some of my sexual frustration and push past the beauty's face, but no matter how fast I ran or how much I sweat, she was all I saw.

I jumped off the treadmill in frustration and stomped back upstairs to take a shower. I was giving very serious consideration to sitting outside the Kodak Theater until I caught a glimpse of her to end this fascination I had with her. Perhaps a date with this elusive girl to see all her nasty little habits would break me of her spell.

Of course, knowing how deranged I'd become over her, I'd probably think that something like picking at her toes at the dinner table was cute, when the reality was that it was absolutely disgusting.

My shower went as it had every day for the last two weeks. I got a release but was still nowhere near satisfied. As soon as I was dressed, I decided to go play with Samson for a bit and try to keep my mind away from the girl until my potential PA got here for her interview.

I went to the side of the house where we had more space and hurled the ball across the lawn, and then waited for Samson to eagerly bring it back. The ball was covered it slobber after the first pass, but after having him for two years, I'd grown used to it.

At one point, the ball rolled under the fence, and Samson couldn't seem to figure out how to retrieve it. I went over and pulled the ball out from the neighboring lawn and held it out for him to see. He sniffed it once, and then his ears perked up at some small sound.

He took off toward the drive, and I checked my watch as I followed him and decided that the noise he'd likely heard was this Isabella Swan's arrival.

As I got closer to the walkway leading up to the door, I noticed Samson had strangely enough pinned Ms. Swan down on the ground. I rushed over there so that I could pull him off of her, but as soon as I was close enough to hear the string of profanities being formed by her voice, I stopped.

"No," I whispered to myself, cocking my head to get a better look.

Same long brown hair, same smooth, creamy skin. She jerked her head away from Samson's mouth and even though her face was adorably scrunched up in disgust, a flash of recognition raced through me.

Isabella Swan was undeniably the woman from the Kodak Theatre.

"God, I hate you! You... you... you fucking beast!" she screeched, trying to shove the dog away from her.

A small laugh escaped my throat at the giddying sight of seeing her again, even though I knew I should be helping pull the dog off of her. I quickly wiped the smile off my face and whistled for Samson to come to me. He immediately jumped away from her and trotted over to me, sitting down and wagging his tail excitedly.

I gave him a curious look as Isabella stood up and attempted to straighten herself out. He was much more animated than usual. Usually, he was lethargic when it came to strangers, simply because he wasn't exposed to them often. I was intensely private; I valued my solitude because it meant that I couldn't be taken advantage of or used for my name alone, like I'd had happen before.

But it was lonely. I missed the warmth of a woman sleeping beside me and the smile that was a response to some teasing comment I made. I missed sex, yes, but mostly, I missed companionship. I really had… no one here in LA. The closest friend or relative was my sister Alice, who was over twelve hundred miles away.

And here was this woman I'd obsessed about for two weeks, finding her way back to me. It was almost surreal.

I opened my mouth, only to inwardly cringe at how callous and cavalier it sounded. This woman had been virtually attacked by my dog, and all I could say was, "Such foul language to come out of such a pretty mouth."

Christ, I was an idiot. I should be fawning over this woman and apologizing for Samson and praying like hell she didn't decide to sue me… or worse, write me off entirely.

She looked absolutely dumbfounded, and I silently waited for her to quickly realize how furious she was and start shouting at me.

"You're English?"

I was so surprised by her reaction that I let out a genuine laugh. She wasn't screaming at me as I expected and instead, was calm. Just as baffled by everything that had happened in the last few minutes as I was.

"Yes. I'm sure there are quite a few things that you don't know about me," I told her, secretly referring to the fact that I was older than I appeared and that I was so pathetically single.

"I'm Edward. You must be Isabella?" I continued, extending my hand to hers so that I had an excuse to see if that thrill with her touch was a fluke or something more.

She swallowed nervously and actually made a small grimace as she went to shake my hand, which was something that had never happened to me before. Of course, the one person I was enamored with would find me repulsive. Luck, fate—whatever you wanted to call it—seemed to enjoy playing against my love life. It had for more years than I could count now.

The moment my hand touched hers, I knew it hadn't been static electricity or anything else; it wasn't coincidence that this shock made me want to latch onto her. It swam in the air around us and had me aching to strip her down and take her here on the lawn. Its demand was astonishing.

And then I realized how absurdly young Isabella was. I summoned the control I had left and took a step back, just as she murmured another apology.

"Don't apologize," I said sternly. The last thing she needed to do was apologize again. I was the one who wanted to throw any sense of morality aside and make her mine. I was the one who'd entertained lascivious thoughts over someone entirely out of my reach.

"I should be the one apologizing. Samson is usually very well behaved."

I blinked when she snorted a laugh. "Cerberus there attacked me two weeks ago, too." Her eyes widened drastically, and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She groaned irritably. "Ah, fuck. I went and said 'shit'! In an interview!"

Her cheeks burned with color, causing my hand to twitch at my side, just itching to touch it.

I laughed to help lighten the situation. "It's quite all right, Isabella. We all suffer from word vomit occasionally."

I could have sworn by the look on her face that she was going to moan. I went over my words again and heard nothing suggestive in them, so I ignored it.

"So when you say my dog attacked you two weeks ago... What exactly are you talking about?" I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Isabella Swan.

"Oh, I worked at Groomingdale's in Hollywood until last week. I got the pleasure of bathing him for you. He was extremely well behaved," she answered dryly.

My eyebrows shot up. I could have met her two weeks ago if I'd not been held up at rehearsal.

I grinned, hoping to alleviate some of her nerves. I did not want her nervous around me. Everyone was. I couldn't have a part of that also. "Well, you did an excellent job."

"Thanks," she said shyly, ducking her head.

My God, she is absolutely adorable.

"Come on, I'll show you around. You're going to need to know your way around the house if you're going to be my new PA," I said pleasantly.

"Don't I need to be interviewed first?" she asked in bewilderment.

I shook my head and started toward the door. There was no way I could let her get away again. If I couldn't be with her, I could at least settle for the next best thing—her spending her days with me as my assistant.

"Isabella, I'd have to be a complete git not to hire you after Samson knocked you down like that."

She didn't move.

Perhaps I'd overestimated our connection. Perhaps it was one-sided.

Christ, that was a disheartening thought.

"Are you coming?" I asked, arching my eyebrow so that I looked nonchalant, when the reality was that I was dying inside.

She nodded and hurried after me.

My heart leapt with joy, but I managed to stay outwardly calm. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing; for all I knew, this could end up in disaster.

But for some reason, none of it mattered. So long as she was with me.