strongPenname/strong: harperpitt
strongOriginal or Derivative (fanfiction)/strong: Derivative
strongRating/Warning(s)/Note(s)/strong: rated K
strongDisclaimer/strong: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.
strongPrompt/strong: Dim
[spoiler]
While Bella nervously waited for Jasper to return, Nettie strolled over from the spot where she had been standing, chatting, or rather flirting, with Demitri.
"Gosh, Bella, what did you do to yourself?" She shook her head, a saccharine smile on her red lips. "Are you sure that this is the right job for you?"
Bella rolled her eyes.
"Shit happens, I guess."
Nettie raised one thin eyebrow and was about to reply something when the door opened and Angela came in, carrying a tray with empty glasses. Following her, Jasper entered the kitchen. He carried a large number of plates, setting them down and depositing them in the grey plastic boxes they had come in. He gave Bella a smile.
"Come on, sweetie."
"What? Where?"
"Rosalie is going to borrow you a shirt!"
Bella followed him outside, embarrassed at her appearance. The forty or so guests were eagerly raiding the buffet that had been set up in the dining room.
"Come." Jasper crossed the room and led her to the staircase, where Rosalie McCarty stood. She was smiling at Bella.
"Oh dear. No wonder Jasper asked for a blouse. You look as if you'd bathed in wine." It wasn't unfriendly, her face and voice sympathetic.
Bella shrugged uncomfortably. "Yes, I'm very sorry about that."
"It could have happened to anyone," Rosalie replied lightly.
She was a beautiful, tall, blonde woman, impeccably and expensively dressed in a black silk dress.
"Come," she told Bella. "I'm sure we'll find something for you."
Jasper gave Bella an encouraging smile and turned back to the party to continue clearing tables and serving champagne.
The McCartys' house was enormous. Bella had known that they were rich – Emmett McCarty was a well-known author of crime novels, and Rosalie was a TV journalist. Her show "Voices of London" ran every Sunday night.
Large framed black-and-white photographs decorated the walls above the stairwell. They seemed to show details of trees and gardens, but Bella couldn't be sure.
Rosalie switched on a light as they had reached the first floor. Rich carpets, an antique chest of drawers, chandeliers.
"Do you often work for Jasper?" Rosalie asked, opening a door to what must have been her bedroom.
"Once or twice a week," Bella said. "Whenever I can make time."
"Are you a student?" Rosalie said, opening another door, switching on another light.
Bella followed her from the dim light of the bedroom into the biggest walk-in closet she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many of them, only on TV.
Rows and rows of dresses, shoes, handbags, coats – a girly paradise.
"Yes," she replied. "I study Linguistics at the University of Westminster."
"That's fascinating," Rosalie said, rummaging through a wide selection of blouses and shirts. "Here," she said, turning. "This should fit you. I'm a little taller than you, but try it on."
"Thank you."
"I'll wait outside."
Rosalie discreetly left her and Bella loosened her black tie peeled off her stained shirt. She could tell that Rosalie's was much more expensive than hers – she couldn't spill on it again. The sleeves were a bit too long, but Bella tucked it into her pants and stepped outside of the closet. She stepped back into the bedroom, which was still almost dark.
"I'm in the bath," Rosalie called from her left. "Just one second!"
Bella waited, feeling a little uncomfortable in a stranger's bedroom. As her eyes adjusted to what little light there was coming from the bathroom, she noticed a shape on the large double bed.
Someone was lying there, sleeping.
[/spoiler]