A.N.: Hey! Next chapter! Also thanks SOOOOOOO MUCH for everyone for following & reviewing the story :) Even though there was only a prologue, there were so many of you who wanted to read more and I really appreciate the comments.
Thanks to kitchmill and Kennedy Nicole Maddock for pimping me out on Facebook :D
Hope you guys like! Also if you're from the US, have a great 4th of July!
Please review & ENJOY! :D
Beta'd by kitchmill, JulieToo, EdwardsMate4ever & Itlnbrt
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. The rights to Sweet Home Alabama belong to Touchstone Pictures, Original Film, D&D Films, and Pigeon Creek Films.
Chapter 1: 16 Years Later
BPOV
May 2013 – New York, NY
Morning light awakes me from my slumber. I just had one of the worst nights of sleep, dreaming about a memory of when I was a child. As I dreamt it, I just kept tossing and turning, not really getting any sleep. I'd dreamt of my past life in St. Pete Beach, a small town not too far from St. Petersburg in Florida. I had accumulated wonderful memories and not-so-wonderful memories, especially of one Edward Cullen.
I had moved on though and have grown up since leaving my hometown at twenty-one, haven't visited at all since getting on that plane up to New York. But my parents have visited me occasionally, me choosing to fly them up here instead of me heading down there. I don't ever really want to return home for many reasons.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and head into the shower to further wake myself up. While getting ready in a nice navy and lace yoke dress and stiletto heels, I carefully apply some makeup on and do my hair; I then leave my upscale apartment. I stop at my favorite café that's down the block from me to get a pastry, a caramel macchiato, and then hail a taxi to take me to work.
In high school, I developed a serious interest in chemistry and, when I got older, I applied my interest and knowledge into creating my own cosmetic line called Beautiful Swan Cosmetics. I took some business classes, achieving an Associate's degree, right before establishing my company, but first had gone to cosmetology school to become licensed after I graduated high school.
At that age I didn't know what I wanted to do and thought that maybe becoming a makeup artist would be a good start. Sometimes I felt like an ugly duckling, and makeup became my armor and shield. I was self-taught in the industry before going to school for it. I named my company after the story of the ugly duckling turning into a beautiful swan. I wanted my company to reach out to women—and even men, if they choose to wear makeup—and show them that they are all beautiful swans, with or without makeup, and that my line would always make them feel beautiful.
Beautiful Swan Cosmetics isn't as big as some other brands, but it's getting up there. Three years in and it's climbing higher and higher in the industry, so I know investing in this hasn't been a bust. I still do makeup artistry for photo shoots and celebrities all over the nation and internationally sometimes. But creating my own line of cosmetics has been a dream come true.
I finally get to the building where my company rents out a floor. I endure meetings and more meetings and even test some of the products in the making, loving some and commenting on how others need to be improved before hitting the shelves of stores nationwide. I arrive home around five and am practically dead on my feet. I just want to take a hot bath and pamper myself before making some dinner and catching up on the shows waiting on my DVR.
But it's the living room full of wildflowers that make my eyes widen and my mouth drop open in shock as soon as I open the door to my home. I know who is responsible for this and I so want to lash out at him for the gesture, but I can't when he's put so much thought into it. I walk over to the closest vase and see that there's a note.
Beautiful,
You must be so exhausted from your long day at work, but I want to take you out to take your mind off everything. Pamper yourself, dress in the black dress I got you, and I'll be there to pick you up at eight.
Love always,
Riley xoxo
I smile and race to my room to see the dress he got me. Knowing him, he didn't really pick it out, but sent his assistant, Bree, although he'd approve of nothing but the best. The dress is gorgeous and has an open back. I know this is the perfect time to break out my Giuseppe Zanotti metallic alligator print pumps.
I do as Riley has asked of me—pamper myself. I take a long bubble bath to relax and then do my nails nicely. I curl my hair and apply my makeup, smoking out my eyes with metallic taupe and black eye shadows.
With merely half an hour left before Riley is to arrive, I put on the dress and slip on my expensive, designer heels. I prepare my clutch bag by Michael Kors by throwing in all my necessities—my ID, my debit card, a few twenties, my eyeliner, lip gloss, a mini perfume, my phone, and my keys. Just then, my phone rings. The front desk of my apartment building calls to tell me Riley is on his way up.
Riley knocks and then I'm in his arms. He presses a hard kiss to my lips and asks if I'm ready. I tell him I am and then we leave, him helping me into a limo.
"So where are we going?" I ask.
"Before we go for dinner, I have to make a pit stop somewhere. It shouldn't take long. You can come up with me."
"Sure."
The limo stops and the door opens on Riley's side. Riley then helps me out and I'm led from the car down a small, dark alleyway through a back entrance of a building. I'm so confused as to what is going on.
"Um … Riley, where are we?"
"You'll see." He pushes open a door and then, all of a sudden, lights come on, making me jump and squeeze my eyes shut because they're so damn bright. Finally, when I'm able to open my eyes and comfortably keep them open, I realize where the fuck we are.
We're in Tiffany & Co.
I see Riley kneel down on one knee and I can't help but let "Oh my God!" escape my lips in a whisper.
"Bella Swan … I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" Riley asks.
My hands cover my mouth, and it muffles my answer.
"What was that?"
"Yes!" I scream out happily.
Riley scoops me up into his arms and I'm spun around. "Thank you," he tells me in my ear.
I'm led over to one of the main counters in the store. "Pick any one that you want. Price doesn't matter, so don't go picking the smallest one because you fear the one you really want is too expensive."
"Okay." I'm in my own version of heaven now and I explore, inquiring to the sales associate, who stands behind the display case, about the rings. I can't help but let price get to me, but I don't purposely choose the smallest carat ring Tiffany's offers, nor do I go all out and choose their overly extravagant ring that has diamonds all around it and costs about $50,000.
I end up choosing the Tiffany Legacy in one and a half carats. It's pretty big, but at the same time it's not too out there. Riley pays for it and quickly slips it onto my finger, kissing it and then me.
We have dinner, go dancing and then make love all night. Riley ends up having to leave early in the morning, but tells me he'll pick me up around six to take me to his parents' house for dinner to announce our engagement. It then hits me that I need to tell my parents.
But I know a phone call won't do, especially since there's something that really needs to be done now and should have been taken care of years ago.
I survive dinner with my future in-laws. They're very cold, personality wise, Mr. and Mrs. Biers—as I'm to call them—and I know they don't actually approve of their son's engagement to me. But they know Riley has a good sense of character, so that's why they congratulate us.
If only they knew that my sense of character isn't necessarily all that good.