I meant for this chapter to be finished and posted by Saturday, but damn. Have you ever had your wisdom teeth out? That surgery is a bitch. I was out for the count all weekend—and, I might add, that I was in so much pain that I couldn't even read. Which is devastating and extremely out of character for me. Anyways, I'm back, swollen face and all, with more Edward and Bella for you.

I had a recent question regarding the book that I mentioned at the beginning of chapter one, my recently published chapbook. I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to let my fanfiction writing and my "original" writing join together quite yet (but, for the record, in the debate on whether or not fanfiction is considered "professional" and "original" writing, or whether its own genre for that matter, I stand on the side that fanfiction is in fact a genre and is in fact original). If I ever decide to release my name (and my book title), you guys will be the first to know. Thank you for your interest!

Artificial Sweetener

Chapter Two

"What the fuck do you mean, you didn't call him?" Alice Cullen leans forward until her stomach is pressed against the pale yellow table. She bumps it too hard, and a little bit of coffee from each of their mugs spills over the edges.

Coffee Bean Cafe has been Bella and Alice's favorite morning spot for years, since their undergraduate days at Washington University. A quiet, brightly-lit diner with homemade pastries and always-fresh coffee, this diner is the perfect place for Bella to prepare for a stressful workday at The Jazz Bar.

Bella uses her fork to cut a bite off of her raspberry pastry and stares at the little drips of coffee that have bled onto the empty, torn-in-half Splenda packets on the table. She remembers Edward staring at the packets on the bar the night before. "Alice, it was eight-thirty by the time I got home last night." She sneaks a hand over to the container with the sweetener and stuffs a few Splenda packets in her purse.

"Your point being?" Alice says. "What if he wanted a booty call?"

Bella raises her chin so that her eyes are equal with Alice's. "Then I guess he should be more selective about who gets the 'special' business card." She stares at her best friend, unmoving, until Alice gives in.

Alice bites her lip. "Alright. Fine, you're right. Booty call is a no."

"It's a hell no."

Bella can count on one hand the number of men that she's slept with in her lifetime; actually, she wouldn't even need her thumb or her index finger. Apart from her high-school boyfriend and two college guys (one frat boy and one science nerd, both of whom never returned her phone calls after their dorm doors closed behind her), Bella has never had a truly meaningful sexual encounter. And she's not about to start with a one-night stand.

Bella's phone vibrates, and an unnecessary thrill shoots through her stomach; Edward Mason doesn't have her phone number, but the idea that, soon, he might be calling her, makes the back of her neck sweat. She glances at the screen, but it's just a Twitter update from Penguin Random House. Bella opens the app immediately and sees a list of today's new-release hardback books. She peeks up at Alice. "So . . . bookstore?"

Alice laughs. "I knew that was coming. Don't you have to be at work in, like, half an hour?" She pretends to check an imaginary watch on her wrist, where there's a diamond bracelet instead.

Bella takes a sip of her coffee and feels her fingers get sticky from the spillage. "Please don't remind me that you sleep with my boss."

Alice narrows her eyes, but she's still smiling. "Why do you insist on downplaying the seriousness of my relationship?"

"Because your boyfriend signs my checks," Bella teases. "And the money that he used to buy you that diamond bracelet, and that Chanel purse, and those Ray Bans quite possibly came from customers that I waited on."

"At least you have job security." Alice tries to press her lips together to fight a smile, feigning seriousness, but it doesn't work.

Bella smiles back to let Alice know that she got the joke, but she finds herself forcing her expression to stay light. She wishes Alice wouldn't say things like that; those comments only add to Bella's suspicion that Jasper only hired Bella because Alice asked him to. Bella tries not to think about the fact that, before Irina quit, she and Jessica always rotated taking care of Table 20. Jasper has never made even the slightest hint that Bella and Jessica will ever begin a similar rotation. She thinks about her banishment to hostess duty when Angela isn't there and wills herself not to think of it as a demotion, but really, she senses that Jasper doesn't trust her with important jobs. Maybe because he didn't want to hire her in the first place.

Their usual Coffee-Bean-Cafe waitress, a blonde with an I'm-exhausted-and-it's-not-even-noon-yet expression on her face that Bella is too familiar with, appears to offer them refills.

Bella widens her eyes as innocently as she can and clasps her hands together in a silent beg. When she sees consideration on Alice's face, she adds a lip-pout to the mix, and Alice rolls her eyes.

"I think we're ready for the check," Alice tells the waitress.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Bella reaches across the table to pat Alice on the shoulder.

"Don't you have to be clocked in at work by noon?"

"Eleven-thirty, actually." The corners of Bella's lips start to pinch from smiling so wide. "Lunchtime-rush prep, and all that."

Alice checks the time on her phone. "You don't have much time."

"That's the idea," Bella says. "I can't go to bookstores when I have an empty afternoon. Duh. It keeps me in control." Bella thinks about the bookshelves in her tiny Seattle apartment, shelves buckling in at the center from the weight of books on books on books, stacked horizontally on top of one another now that there's no more vertical room.

"You're buying one book," Alice warns. Bella knows she's teasing; Alice never tells Bella how to spend her money, mostly because Alice has a lot of it.

"Yeah, we'll see." Bella knows Alice is teasing; Alice never tells Bella how to spend her money, mostly because Alice has a lot of it.

The waitress drops the check on the end of the table as she passes, and Alice's hand reaches for it immediately, credit card in hand.

"How much do I owe you?" Bella asks.

"Nothing," Alice says. "My treat."

"But—"

"Jasper is going to be at the restaurant all day today," Alice says. "Lord knows how you put up with him."

Suddenly, Bella feels a pang of guilt run through her stomach, remembering how she'd so ignorantly pointed out Alice's expensive wardrobe just minutes before.

For a second, she wonders if Alice was offended.

Then, she wonders if Alice even noticed—

—if she's ever actually noticed the financial differences between them.

"You can repay me," Alice says, returning her credit card to her wallet, "by calling Edward Mason. And then telling me everything he says."

Bella keeps Alice distracted enough with questions about herself (her ongoing job search, which is practically non-existent; her new golden retriever puppy named Nugget; her upcoming dinner with Jasper's parents) that Alice forgets about the little business card that's tucked away in Bella's purse.

Bella's apartment, Coffee Bean Cafe, Second-Home Bookstore, and The Jazz Bar are all within walking distance of one-another, so Alice parks her car in one of Jasper's private parking spots by the restaurant so she doesn't have to pay meter parking. The chilly November Seattle air is, of course, the only downfall to walking everywhere, but at least it's not snowing today.

When they finally reach The Jazz Bar's front entrance, Bella tries to get away from Alice without looking suspiciously like she's trying to escape, all the while keeping her fingers crossed that Alice won't remember Edward Mason's message on her own. She walks straight back into the kitchen and clocks in, while Alice takes a seat at the bar, where Jasper is counting out change for the register.

Mike glances at Bella over his shoulder, a spray bottle in hand as he wipes the metal counter in the middle of the room. "Brace yourself," he tells her.

Bella swipes her ID card. "For what?"

"Angela is off sick again," Jessica says, emerging from the storage room to Bella's left. She sits a cardboard box full of fresh ketchup bottles on the counter, and Mike starts counting them out for each table.

"Jesus Christ," Bella says. "What's wrong with her?"

Jessica dips her chin and gives Bella her signature Gossip Glance. "Rumor on Fourth Avenue is that she's pregnant."

Bella blinks. "Fourth Avenue?"

Jessica nods.

"You realize that this restaurant is on Fifth Avenue," Bella says.

Jessica stares for a second, and then narrows her eyes. "Okay, Nancy Drew, sorry, I was trying to be clever."

Mike laughs. "If you have to try to be clever, you're not clever."

Jessica shoots him a glare and turns back to Bella. "But anyways, the heads-up is because Jasper's definitely gonna put you on Hostess duty again."

Bella shakes her head, tying her apron behind her waist. "Maybe if I go see him before Alice leaves, she'll talk some sense into him."

Jessica's eyes widen. Her hand, reaching for the last ketchup bottle in the box, freezes halfway there, and she starts to pick at the skin around the edges of her thumb nail, twisting her middle finger awkwardly. "Alice is here?"

Bella tilts her head as she nods, but suddenly Jessica won't make eye contact with her. Instead, her friend turns and retreats to the storage room again.

Mike nods his head to a group of bottles that he's pushed closer to the table's edge. "You wanna start taking those out to the dining room for me?"

Bella turns to glance at the neon-green clock letters behind her: 11:46am. Lunch doors open in fifteen. She grabs two bottles in each hand and pushes the swinging door with her hip.

Across the room, Alice is leaning across the bar to give Jasper a goodbye kiss. "Seven o'clock," she tells him, pointing an index finger at his face. "Not a minute later. Macy's closes at eight."

"We seriously need an hour in Macy's?" he says, bracing his hands on the bar. "It's just dinner, Alice. Why can't I wear a shirt I already—"

Bella tries not to laugh when Alice reaches across to close her hand over Jasper's mouth. He hears her chuckle, even though she tries to muffle it with her arm, and glares at her until she turns away.

"Yes," Alice says, "we do, in fact, need an hour. This isn't just dinner, Jazz. It's dinner with my parents. They're already pissed that they're getting the consolation prize—"

"What consolation prize?" Jasper yells.

Bella turns around to see Alice wrinkling her nose. Her friend brushes her bangs out of her eyes and levels Jasper with a stare. "They can't have us for Thanksgiving dinner, so instead they get us for dinner the day after Thanksgiving."

"Alice—"

"I don't want to hear the bullshit about your family traditions again." Alice throws her purse over her shoulder and takes a few steps away. She looks back at him but keeps most of her body turned towards the door. "My family has traditions too, you know. But I'm breaking my traditions for you. Because I love you, and because I want to spend the holiday with you. You could be a little more grateful."

Bella pictures the time that she spent Thanksgiving with Alice's family, when Renee was off "making a good impression" on Phil's parents, back when Phil was still her husband-to-be, and Charlie was forced to take a shift in a patrol car because the officer who was scheduled suddenly got "sick" and the responsibility for covering his shift fell on the Chief of Police. Not wanting to walk on eggshells for a four-day trip to Florida while her mother tried to win over her future in-laws, Bella had opted to stay in good 'ole Forks, Washington with Alice's family.

Bella stands for a moment, remembering Carlisle and Esme Cullen, stiff and quiet as they sat at the biggest dining room table that Bella had ever seen, complete with sterling silver knives and forks and a three-tier carrot cake instead of pumpkin pie, and suddenly Bella wonders if there's something about wealth that takes away a person's ability to smile.

Bella reaches for the empty ketchup bottle on Table 20, and the business card in her back pocket practically vibrates. She stares at the seat that he occupied just the night before, the only booth left without any puncture of any kind in its seats or backrests, always kept in perfect condition.

Does Edward Mason smile?

Or does his wealth make him hollow—like Carlisle and Esme Cullen?

Like Alice is sure to be, someday?

Alice's heels click against the linoleum as she heads towards the front door. The jingle that comes from the pile of bracelets on her wrist echoes around the room when she gives Bella a wave. "Text me when you're home safe, Bells," she calls.

Bella grins and nods, but really she hates it when Alice says that; it's a small reminder that she has to walk home, alone and in the dark, on one of Seattle's busiest streets, to an apartment building with only a seventy-year-old bald security guard at its doorway.

"Doors open in ten," Jasper calls out when Alice is gone. Jessica emerges from the kitchen, and Jasper taps her shoulder as he walks by. "You're doing Section Two again, Jess. Bella? You're on hostess duty again."

For a brief moment, Jessica meets Bella's gaze and actually has the common sense to look guilty; Bella is, of course, getting screwed over again, but the knot in her stomach loosens a little when she sees that Jessica has clearly noticed that it's happening.

Jessica approaches with her hands full of ketchup bottles. "I'm sorry, Bella," she says. "I'll finish restocking this section. Go do what you need to do for yourself."

Bella wants to argue but she doesn't see the point.

Bella's socks are damp with sweat when she finally takes them off at her doorstep.

She rests her keys on the tiny counter that separates her kitchen from her living room and hangs her purse on the wooden stool nearest to the wall. She usually heads straight to her bedroom, always eager to change out of her sweaty, fried-food-smelling uniform and into her fleece pajamas and a hoodie, but tonight, she finds herself sitting down on her couch.

She pulls the business card out of her pocket and stares at it in the palm of her hand, admiring the handwritten digits that were provided special to her.

Bella—Let's do lunch. E.M.

Edward Mason.

Bella wants to know him—what he does, the way he thinks, his opinions on life and living.

She dials the number.

I know there was no Edward in this chapter, but he's coming back soon, I promise! What fun is it if the girl doesn't make him sweat it out a little bit, amiright?

As always, thank you for reading, and reviews are always appreciated.

See you in Chapter Three.