Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Thanks for all the reviews, too, they've been so encouraging. Please feel free to let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own jack. I do, however, have a month's supply of diapers and a small collection of mismatched socks if you're interested.

The life of a certified financial planner consists of paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork, with the occasional interlude of paperwork. I had been in banking since I had finished college, freshly graduated with my American Literature degree in hand. I had realized within a few months that the likelihood of finding a decent job with my credentials was about as probable as winning the lottery. Less, in fact. More like winning the lottery while simultaneously being struck by lightning. After my student loans starting rolling in I panicked and applied virtually everywhere within a ten-mile radius, and four years later I was working for one of the largest investment firms in New York. An impressive achievement for some, but for me it was just more work.

Not that it had to be that way. My coworkers, several of them in their mid-twenties like me, had invited me out a few times in the beginning to have drinks after work. I never said yes. After a few weeks they stopped asking, and I began my ritual of ignoring anyone with whom I wasn't directly required to communicate.

Monday morning started early. I was meeting with a brand-new client at eight sharp, an entrepreneur by the name of James Laurent that owned several commercial properties downtown. He had net quite a profit over the past couple of the years and wanted to discuss the best way to invest a good chunk of it. My boss was ecstatic when the client had shown interest in our firm – he was worth well over twenty million. I, on the other hand, was terrified when he handed me the portfolio.

"Carlisle," I had stammered, "don't get me wrong, I'm really flattered that you think so highly of me, but are you sure that I'm the best person to–"

"Bella," he interrupted. He leaned back in his formidable leather desk chair and clasped his hands behind his head casually. "I know you're nervous. This is a big fish." Carlisle always referred to our clients as "big fish" or "little fish." Big fish were our high-rollers – people with more money than they knew what do with, while little fish were smaller investors that the firm could take or leave. I had worked mostly with the little fish, waiting for Carlisle to toss me a big one, but I had never expected this. "I wouldn't have assigned this one to you if I didn't think you could handle it. Besides, you've got to get your feet wet eventually, and I have a feeling the two of you will get along just fine."

That was a week ago. I'd taken some comfort in Carlisle's confidence in me, but today I was shaking like a leaf. When my office phone rang to inform me that Mr. Laurent had arrived I nearly went into cardiac arrest. I stood up, smoothed out my pencil skirt and went into the lobby to meet my new client.

The receptionist, Emily, noticed me in the doorway and called out, "Mr. Laurent? Bella will see you now." A tall, dark-haired man with olive skin and blue eyes rose from one of the armchairs and strode across the expansive lobby to meet me. I was stunned; not only was he exceedingly handsome in a powerful and virile way, he was much younger than I had expected. Forty would have been a stretch but not impossible.

"Miss Swan?" He stopped a courteous couple of feet away and held out his hand. "It's a pleasure." His pale blue eyes were unnervingly striking. I found myself a little dizzy.

"Likewise," I replied as I took his hand and shook it firmly, trying not to let on how starstruck I was. I glanced down at his other hand that hung at his side. No wedding band. I found myself unmoved, surprisingly, using that tidbit of information as more of a clue as to how this meeting would proceed. From his looks and the way he oozed self-assurance, it would be safe to assume that this man was accustomed to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

I led him back through the maze of hallways and meeting rooms, feeling his eyes on me the entire time, until we reached a small conference room. He set his briefcase on the round table as I gathered together the paperwork I had prepared for him. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" I offered.

"No, thanks, I believe everything I need is in here." The playful edge to his voice was faint but present nonetheless.

I froze, my back still facing him. I whirled around. Was he really trying to…and then I noticed his hand on his briefcase. He was referring to his briefcase. Of course. Get a grip, Bella. I let out a tiny sigh of relief and we both settled down at the table.

The rest of the meeting went off mostly without a hitch. I learned that James, who insisted I call him by his first name, owned six restaurants and three bars in the city that had really taken off recently, which was impressive given the economic conditions. We discussed his options as far as investment products and I gave him the names of several colleagues that could assist him with other aspects of his businesses. The meeting spanned no more than an hour or so, and as we were packing up I said casually, "What're the names of the bars you own? I might have to go check them out sometime." I had no plans on following through, but it wouldn't hurt to throw it out there anyway. Plenty of people in the office did the happy hour thing and they could probably use a new watering hole.

James paused thoughtfully, and let his eyes roam shamelessly over me. I felt the warmth of a blush creep into my face. "Well, for a pretty thing like you, Lux would be the perfect spot. Or if a nightclub's not your cup of tea then there's the Green Room – lounge-type place, good for happy hours. The other one…well, let's just say it's a little less polished. You probably wouldn't care much for it." He smirked. "If you plan on coming out some night give me a call, I'll make sure you're taken care of." He handed me his card, which he had handwritten his cell number along with his office line. Our eyes met and a flash of something like hunger flickered in his. My mouth went dry, and it took every ounce of my mental faculties to walk him out to the lobby and see him off politely.

Once I was sure he was out of the building I retreated to the quiet refuge of my office. My heart was pounding in my ears as I tried to make sense of what had transpired between me and my new client. Was I imagining the lingering looks, the double entendres? I reran the encounter in my mind and decided that I was safe in my assumptions, that James Laurent was indeed a dominating and aggressive person, which I had surmised upon meeting him. But he was much, much smarter than the average bear – he threw innuendoes and mixed signals that could be taken either as an advance or a friendly gesture. If the receiving party took it as an invitation, so be it, but he always covered his tracks if the situation swung the other way.

I quickly squashed even the faintest hint of any possibilities between James and I – he was first and foremost my client. Even if I had been attracted to him nothing more than a professional relationship was kosher. And the more I thought about it, I wasn't exactly attracted – more like astonished. Like how electric eels stun their prey before devouring it. The hungry glint in his eye flashed through my mind.

And then something else rang through my thoughts. James owned three bars – a club, a lounge, and a…what had he called it? A total dive…but it wasn't James that had said that…

If a lightbulb could have lit over my head, at that moment I could have illuminated the entire city for an full day.

James owned the bars where Edward worked. James was Edward's boss. I was sure of it.

A thrill ran down my spine when I thought of Edward. It had only been a few days since our…whatever you'd call it…and I admitted to myself that the idea of seeing him again was so attractive it was practically magnetic.

I took a long sip from my coffee cup, suddenly wishing it was hot chocolate, and unconsciously my thoughts drifted back to Saturday night. Vibrant green eyes, a wicked smirk, and the velvety texture of Edward's voice…

"Bella?"

I snapped out of my daydream like I'd just heard a gunshot. Angela Weber, a newbie in the human resources department, was leaning against the doorway of my office with a folder in her hand. "Hi!" I greeted just a little too loudly. "Sorry, I just…I need more coffee. What's up?"

"That James Laurent – he's a dreamboat, isn't he? Wish it was me that got to cozy up to him for an hour." She smiled wryly.

My insides twisted. "Um, yeah," I agreed halfheartedly. I gestured to the folder she held, eager to change the subject. "What's that there?"

"It's open enrollment time for the insurance benefits. Just thought I'd come by and see if you wanted to make any changes."

"Oh, right. I think I'm all set. Thanks, Angela, I appreciate it."

Angela nodded and turned to leave. I gulped, and thought to myself that it was now or never. "Wait – Ang? What do you have going on this weekend?"

She stopped and chewed her lip for a moment. I knew she was hesitating; it was unheard of for me to socialize with anyone I worked with. "Uh, you know, just laundry and grocery shopping. The usual. What's going on?"

I took a deep breath. I could do this. "Do you wanna go out Saturday night? I know this great club, and I think it would be a lot of fun. What do you say?" Once the words were out of my mouth I tensed, completely prepared for her to stammer out a rejection and run off.

To my surprise a pleased look came over her face. "Sure, Bella. I'd love to."

"Great! Well, I guess we'll figure out all the details later. And I'll drop this off after lunch." I held up the folder. We exchanged smiles and she headed back toward the elevator.

Once she was out of earshot I retrieved my trusty paper bag from the bottom drawer of my desk and heaved a few breaths in and out.

An e-mail the next morning was from Angela asking if she could bring her friend Jessica from accounting. I wrote back that that was fine, the more the merrier, and my excitement began to build as Saturday approached. I was anxious about seeing Edward – it was almost certain that he would be working at Lux on Saturday, since he said that he worked wherever it was the busiest on any given night. It seemed reasonable to expect that he'd be there.

As I prepared to meet with another client, my mind wandered through a slew of possible scenarios with Edward. Would he be pleased to see me? Annoyed? Creeped out that I managed to track him down? When our night at the coffee shop had drawn to a close there had been no whimsical promises of a reunion, no long dramatic goodbye. Edward had simply put his hand on my shoulder and told me to take care of myself. He hadn't offered me his phone number or dropped any kind of hints that indicated that he wanted to see me again. Which, I supposed, made sense given my less-than-reliable mental state at the time.

I seriously began to consider calling the whole thing off. The vast array of unknown and unpredictable factors was terrifying, and the possibility that I could show up and be rejected by Edward was just too much for me. Plus I didn't even own anything I could wear to a nightclub – my taste in clothing was plain and conservative at best, frumpy at its worst. Trends were something to be balked at or ignored. Not to mention that a bar wasn't exactly ideal for someone with a distaste for all things alcoholic…

An e-mail notification popped up on my desktop. I opened my messages and saw a new e-mail from Angela. "Can't wait for Saturday! Meet at your place at nine?" I slumped a little in my desk chair. I couldn't very well back out now, not when she was so excited. Resignedly I typed back a quick reply, adding a note at the end asking if I could borrow an outfit since we looked to be about the same size.

It looked as though I would be seeing Edward that weekend, whether either of us wanted it or not.

* * *

My eyes flitted back and forth between the paper in my hand and the elegantly scripted neon sign hanging over the door. This can't be right. It couldn't be.

But, it was. Lux. 1440 Jefferson Avenue. The street sign at the corner said Jefferson Avenue, and the sign over the door said…Lux. So, yeah. We were here.

"Bella? Is this a joke?" Angela intoned from behind me. "Don't you know what this place is?"

My choked silence was all the answer she needed. I, who was one episode of Antique Roadshow away from becoming a full-blown recluse, was completely unaware that this was one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. It wasn't hard to figure out, though. At least ten bouncers milled around outside, and there wasn't even a line of people waiting, because there was clearly no point. If you had to wait at all, you weren't qualified for entry.

Jessica and Angela stood behind me and neither of them said anything. My eyes skittered about awkwardly – I had dragged them all the way here and now I felt like an asshole. "Bella? You do realize that there's no way in hell we're actually going to be able to go in, right?"

"I-I know someone," I stuttered. "Someone who works here." And the owner, but I didn't really want to get into that. At a place like this everyone and their brother was going to claim that they knew the owner if it meant they could get in. I suddenly felt very small.

Jessica raised her eyebrows skeptically. "This bar?" she pointed at the door, "They don't even have a VIP section. Because the whole damn place is VIP. We're lucky we're even allowed to stand this close to the door. They probably think we're paparazzi or something. Or just crazy." She rolled her eyes and did a poor job of disguising her annoyance, if she was trying to hide it at all. "Let's go, Bella. We'll find somewhere else to hang out."

My cheeks burned. I should have known this was a bad idea. Maybe this was fate's way of telling me that some things were just best left alone. Close the book on Edward and appreciate our encounter for what it was.

I sighed and took one long last look at the bright, glowing sign over the door. I had to admit, I was disappointed. Jessica and Angela had taken it upon themselves to "girl-ify" me, as they called it, and gotten me all dolled up. Heels, skinny jeans, sparkly top, the whole nine yards. My hair…I don't even know if there was a name for what they'd constructed my hair into, a voluminous mass of waves and curls and these annoying bang things I kept pushing out of my eyes. I'd stood there like a mannequin, letting them run wild and silently reminding myself that this must be what it's like to have friends. And, thankfully, nobody had pulled up next to me and asked me how much I charged so I couldn't have looked too tacky.

A long, low breath escaped me. Better this way, I thought. Jessica and Angela were already a few steps ahead of me, discussing our next destination. Jess was insisting on stopping at a lounge a few blocks over, but Angela was convinced that was the same bar that her ex-boyfriend liked to frequent so she was-

"Hey! You ladies wanna come in? Stay awhile?"

All three of us whipped our heads around toward the playful, gruff voice that called out from behind us. It was a bouncer, a light-skinned man with biceps the size of tree trunks and a military-style buzz cut. He was grinning and my insides twisted uncomfortably at the sheer smarminess of it. "Come on back. I don't see why we can't squeeze in a few pretty chickadees like you. Ain't that busy tonight." He was lying. I could see from the street that the place was crammed like a sardine can.

We glanced at each other and hesitatingly took a few steps toward the door. The girls' attitudes toward the bar had instantly switched from distaste to glee as they realized that it was no longer unattainable. We approached slowly, as if the bouncer might change his mind and send us packing. Instead he unhooked the velvet rope and gestured us in. "After you," the bouncer winked at me. As I passed him I caught a nauseating whiff of cigarettes, and I managed to smile at him as I clumsily inched my way into the club, Jess and Ang close behind me.

If tonight's crowd constituted an ain't that busy night, I did not want to come near the place when it was a full house. It was so packed that the entire club looked like one coherent sea of bobbing heads, punctuated by strobe lights and colored spotlights darting every which way. The steady pounding of the bass reverberated from speakers the size of small houses. Two balconies overlooked the throng of dancers, and even those were practically overrun with people. I finally understood the appeal of places like this – it was all too easy to lose yourself when so much energy was flowing about.

"Oh my God!" squealed Jessica, so piercing that I had no trouble picking out her voice over the deafening music. "Is that…oh my God. Angela, look! Over there! That's Dan! I was engaged to him! Wait – who the hell is that hussy he's dancing with?! What a whore! Come with me, I want to know who this bitch thinks she's fooling, she better bring those fake-ass tits back and ask for a refund…" She dragged Angela away, hell-bent on getting a better look.

I didn't know who the hell she was talking about, and it didn't matter if she'd just told me she'd spotted Tom Cruise. My eyes were pinned to the bar, which was illuminated entirely in blacklight. I searched desperately, my heart pounding into my ears and threatening to bust through my ribcage.

My breath caught in my throat as I found my prize. He stood at least half a head taller than everyone else, and the glint of the club lights glittered in his dark eyes. The elation melted off of me, though, as soon as I took in the entirety of the scene.

Edward, wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off his impressive musculature, was behind the bar, serving a gaggle of women that was clustered tightly around him, clearly ogling his muscles and flashing smiles his way. I watched helplessly as he poured a group of shots and the girls cheered. He laughed with them. Then the whole group, Edward included, tossed back the shots as if they were water. Unconsciously I inched toward them, oblivious to the writhing bodies that stood in my way. As I got closer I heard one of girls yell, "Victoria, what are you doing? You can't out-drink a bartender!"

A statuesque blonde with the longest legs I'd ever seen tossed her hair back and smirked. "Wanna bet?" she challenged her friend, a shorter girl with dark, bobbed hair and hips the size of Missouri.

She shrugged. "Your funeral," she shouted back. "I'm not dragging your ass back home when you're so hammered you're drooling!"

The blonde gave her a wry smile. "No problem," she answered wryly. "I bet he will." She tossed her head toward Edward, who only raised his eyebrows at her and smirked, just like I'd remembered…

I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me. Suddenly I felt so much like a fool I could cry. This wasn't me – Bella Swan did not wear heels, did not wear makeup, and did not follow men to nightclubs on a crazy misguided whim. This was a grownup's world and I was a child.

My eyes grew hot with tears as I burned with shame. I wanted to run, to turn on my four-inch silver heel and bolt out the door – but I could only stay planted where I was, unable to tear my eyes away from the blonde witch whose hair I wanted to rip from its roots. Edward was pouring them another round of shots, reserving one for himself. He glanced up quickly, and his gaze met mine in one electric second. Recognition flooded into his eyes and he held the downturned bottle in place for a beat too long, letting the shot glass he was filling overflow.

"Hey! I think that one's full, honey," called the blonde, reaching out and grabbing his elbow to turn the bottle upright. Her long fingernails made contact with his sinewy arm and it was just too much for me. I turned and hurriedly made my way through the crowd. I needed air. I needed a cigarette, even though I didn't smoke. Hell, I needed a fucking drink. But that clearly wasn't going to happen. Not here, anyway.

Distraught, I shoved people twice my size out of my warpath and only when I ran smack into someone was I forced to stop. "Well, look who decided to come out and play! I gotta tell you, Bella, you look like a million bucks in the office but you outdid yourself tonight."

At the mention of my name I snapped my head up. It was James Laurent, wickedly sexy in a black button-down and gray dress pants. An amused smile came over his face. "Who are you here with?"

"A-a couple of girls from work," I stammered, shouting to be heard over the din.

He nodded in acknowledgment. "You should come join me back at my table. There's always room for a few pretty ladies. Can I get you a drink?"

"She's fine. Had a little too much, actually. I'll take it from here," Edward's warm voice cut in and the part of me that wanted to flee stopped dead in its tracks.

James eyed Edward carefully. The two were nearly identical in height but the deadpan seriousness in Edward's stare made him seem more formidable. They locked eyes for one tense moment before James' posture relaxed and he smiled. "Oh, you two know each other? Who would've guessed." I could see Edward seething, and I just stood there like a moron, unable to speak. "Well, Miss Swan, you know where to find me." He winked and disappeared into the crowd.

Edward turned to me, the weight of his stare heavy. He looked every bit as incredible as I remembered, carelessly sexy and completely unpretentious. The disco lights and strobe made it difficult to see his expression clearly and I hoped he wasn't displeased at seeing me. "Believe me when I say that this is really the last place on earth I expected to see you." It was impossible to tell whether this pleased him or not. His eyes traveled up and down my body, taking in my outfit and my beast of a hairstyle. "Safe to say you didn't dress yourself?" His brow arched in inquiry.

I shook my head sheepishly. "Well, that asshole was right about one thing. You look beautiful." He didn't look at me when he spoke, but that couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face.

"Really?" I might have been flirting, or trying to flirt, and I felt ridiculous.

"Yeah. Really," he agreed. His expression turned dark. "How do you know James?"

"He's a client of mine. My firm handles his investments. He told me that this was one of the places he owned, and I thought I'd come by and check it out. For the firm, I mean. To make sure it's a safe endeavor." Right. And if he believed that one I had a bridge I could sell him.

He studied me for a moment, but if he knew I was lying through my teeth he kept it to himself. "Be careful around him, Bella," he warned. "He's a big, spoiled kid under all those expensive clothes and Ferraris. He's not used to people telling him no. I'd hate to see you on the wrong end of that."

"I can take care of myself," I argued. For some reason I didn't like where this conversation was going.

He held up his hands in the universal gesture for surrender. "I know you can," he reassured me. "I'm just telling you, the guy's a fucking predator."

"He's not the only one," I mumbled as my eyes drifted past him to the gaggle of cougars still clustered at the bar. The blonde Barbie kept glancing back at us, a scowl twisting on her heavily painted face.

Edward's his eyes narrowed and suspicion clouded his finely chiseled features. He glanced over his shoulder and the blonde waggled her artificial fingernails – claws, more like – at him, grinning a sickeningly sweet smile. I wanted to throw up. When he turned back to me he was rolling his eyes. "Oh, them? The Real Housewives of Upstate New York? They're here every week, trying to recapture their glory days or something. It's pretty sad, actually. Why, you jealous?" he jibed. He was kidding, obviously, but…maybe I was.

"Of the Botox queens? I think not," I answered with a chuckle. I noticed over his shoulder that a pretty female bartender had approached the group but she was quickly dismissed. It was clear that they were waiting for Edward, and only Edward.

He ran a hand through his wild bronze hair. "Look, I gotta get back, this is the busiest night of the week and if I don't get these animals some booze there's gonna be a riot."

"Right. We don't want that," I agreed awkwardly. I was disappointed, although I knew I shouldn't be – he was at work. Him ignoring the bar would be like me forgetting to meet with a client.

"Bella!" a piercing voice shrieked, and I was almost knocked over by the force of Jessica and Angela barreling into me. Once I had righted myself and regained the air that had been knocked out my lungs I began to introduce them to Edward. "Jess, Angela, this is my…friend, Edward–"

"Bella oh my God did you know that James Laurent was here? He bought us drinks and oh my God he is so gorgeous and he was asking for you, Bella! He's got this special section back by the DJ booth and we should go back there like right now!" Jessica was practically jumping up and down. Angela just rolled her eyes. "She can smell money a mile away," she whispered conspiratorially to me.

"Bella! Come on! He told us to make sure we bring you back with us!" Jessica demanded. He was asking for me? I hesitated; gorgeous or not, he did give me the heebie-jeebies and I had no doubt that everything Edward had said about him was true. On the other hand, James Laurent was a very valuable client. Placating him would be in the best interests of the firm – and my job. Which was the least pathetic thing in my miserable existence, and I couldn't afford to jeopardize it.

My eyes ticked over to Edward, who had a stern expression on his face. "Be careful, Bella. I mean it. Remember what I told you." He turned and stalked back to the bar, which was awash with thirsty patrons.

"Let's go!" My arm was clutched in a death grip as Jessica dragged me through the masses of people. When we reached James' booth, the meaning of twenty million dollars really hit me for the first time. The curved seat was upholstered with some luxurious fabric that probably cost more than my yearly salary and took up half of the back wall. James sat in the center of at least fifteen people, a mixture of powerful-looking men and beautiful women. I wondered not for the first time what he could possibly want from me when he had Victoria's Secret models littered around him like spare change.

James' eyes fell on me and he smiled. I got the feeling that he knew I would show up eventually, it was just a matter of when. "There she is," he called out. "The lady of the hour. Everybody, this is Bella Swan. She's my financial advisor. She's gonna be telling me where to throw my money from now on." He smirked.

"Tell him to put it where his mouth is," piped up a smarmy-looking guy in a black suit to James' left. "You've been saying we're gonna hit the casinos for a month now."

"Shut up, Max. You're just worried your wife will spend all your play money before you can get there. Not my problem." His eyes never left me the entire time he spoke. "Have a seat, ladies. Would you like something to drink?"

"I don't–" I began at exactly the same time that Jessica practically shouted, "Sure!"

"Great," James replied. "I think I have just the thing in mind." A minute or so later a tray was set down on the low table in front of us by a long, muscular arm. I glanced up to see that the arm belonged to Edward, and I jumped a little. He gave me a knowing smile before heading back to the bar.

The three of us each picked up a glass and I paused, trying to rack my brain for a last-ditch excuse to avoid having to actually drink. "Cheers," I said weakly as I took a tiny sip of the mysterious liquid and braced myself for what I was sure to be a repulsive taste. Instead, something creamy and raspberry-flavored filled my mouth. It was delightful. I didn't even know it was there was alcohol involved until after I'd swallowed and the aftertaste reminded me, and even then it was gentle. I finished the glass in one long gulp and smiled sheepishly. "That was…"

"Amazing, right? I call that one the Multiple Orgasm," James finished, grinning. I blushed furiously. "Secret recipe. It's exclusive to Lux." He spread his arms wide to indicate the entire bar, and he asked with bravado, "So, what do you think, Miss Swan? Am I a safe investment?" Something in his lilting tone was telling me that found all this to be endlessly amusing – that he was watching me the way a cat watches a mouse.

I smiled nervously. "So far so good," I answered. The alcohol was creeping through my system, warming me and I began to feel a little less self-conscious.

Another tray arrived less than a minute later. The waitstaff was keeping such a good eye on our group that it seemed like James had a telepathic connection to the bar. Bottoms up, I thought to myself as I picked up my second drink of the night. It was every bit as good as the first and I had the glass empty in the matter of a minute.

The world began to take on a dreamy quality, like I was seeing everything underwater. The conversations around me became less noticeable, and I began to really relax for the first time that night. Maybe a drink or so every now and then wouldn't be so bad.

Yet another glass was thrust into my hands, and then another, and I accepted them without much thought. Every time I glanced up at James his eyes were glued to me, and it unnerved me a little. Jessica's giggles and enthusiastic responses to virtually everything James said were getting progressively louder as she got drunker. Angela was on my other side engaged in what looked like an intimate conversation with one of James' buddies. His hand was on her knee, and I decided now was a good time for a bathroom break. I stood, wobbling slightly, and announced that I would be right back. Carefully I negotiated my way around the booth and out next to the dance floor.

I had gotten nearly all the way to the bar before I realized that I had no idea where the bathrooms actually were. People were moving all around, bumping into me as they made their way past, and suddenly I felt very confused. Where was I going again?

"Bella." Edward's voice poured into my ear like a salve; I immediately turned toward the sound. "Are you okay?" He took both of my shoulders into his strong hands. "Bella?"

"Edward!" The world was starting to slide from dreamy to fuzzy, and I was having a hard time standing still on my own.

"Son of a bitch. That lousy bastard…I knew this would happen," I heard him mutter. "Doesn't help that you're a fucking lightweight, either." He slid an arm around my waist and led me to the bar. I planted my hands firmly on it, confident that if I attempted anything else I would keel over.

Edward stepped behind the bar and grabbed a glass. I watched as with practiced ease he poured something clear and ominously innocent-looking into it and handed it to me. "It's water, Bella. Drink it. I'll be right back, try to stay out of trouble. And by that I mean just don't move."

Okay. Not moving…I could handle that. I drank the water in two easy gulps and the glass tumbled from my hand, crashing to the floor. I cringed, but nobody even noticed. Thankfully Edward reappeared holding his coat. "Come on," he urged as he took my arm. "I'm taking you home."

"We're going home?" I parroted as Edward led me purposefully through the crowds and out the front door. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, honey," he reassured me. The bite of the frigid November cold was startling, and Edward wrapped his thick coat around my shoulders. We walked briskly through the parking lot and stopped in front of a silver Volvo. Edward opened the passenger door for me and I tried to get in gracefully but ended up just sort of tumbling inside. He left my door open.

"Now Bella, I want you to tell me the truth." He was in the driver's side in a flash and buckling his seat belt. "Do you need to throw up?"

"What?" I asked, bewildered. "Why would I need to–" And then I found out why he'd left my door open.

When I was finished I wiped my mouth and closed the door. Edward didn't say a word, just turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to life. "Can you tell me how to get to your place?"

"It's on Monroe Avenue, near the Starbucks," I mumbled. My head was swimming and the inside of the car was spinning like a top.

He nodded and began to back the car out of the parking space. I was asleep before he switched gears.

I heart reviews like Bella loves those Multiple Orgasms. Yum.