Definitely a Chapter, Even if It's Short: A Lesson in Banter

. . .

"I see you started without me," said Edward, as he took his seat across from Jasper in the same IHOP booth they'd eaten at every Saturday for over two years. Being multimillionaires hadn't changed Jasper's love for cheap pancakes with ketchup.

"It's not like you ever eat anyway," Jasper said. "And we have a new waitress. She didn't know to wait 'til you got here."

Thoughts of Renee distracted Edward from watching Jasper eat his revolting concoction. The success of BITE, Inc., hinged on a huge secret, and Renee was the only person outside of the very small circle of trust to have ever guessed correctly. She would never reveal the true dynamic of Edward and Jasper's relationship—her adoration of the latter assured that—but Edward wasn't so sure about letting a new waitress get close.

"I don't like it."

"Of course you don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't like anything anymore," Jasper said, sectioning off another bite.

"That is not true."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—"

"Okay, what are you doing?" Edward barked.

Complete with a wave of his red-stained fork, Jasper reasoned that "No" was a more powerful word than "Yes," so it took more yeses than noes to get one's point across.

"That's twelve-year-old logic for you," Edward said, to which Jasper stuck out his tongue. "Onto concerns of actual importance. Well, kind of. Emmett forwarded us this."

Inside the envelope was the classic blackmail note written with letters clipped from magazines. It read:

Edward Cullen,

I know your secret. Instructions to follow. Consider yourself "Black" mailed.

"Aw, man," Jasper groaned as he read. "Really? REALLY? But we're so careful!"

"Relax. I thought you'd find it amusing. It's like those movies you watch."

"It's nunny!"

What was nunny—not funny—was how quickly Edward could decipher Jasper's secret language these days.

It looked to Edward like it was time for some damage control. He went over his meeting with Emmett, lawyer to BITE, Inc., all the steps they had taken to catch the culprit, the unlikelihood this would come to a head, and then tried to distract Jasper with the cool forensic process they had used to gather evidence from the letter. This type of freakout was exactly why Edward had stopped letting Jasper come to meetings with Emmett; the kid might have been the genius that built and operated an entire online empire, but he was still only twelve years old.

"Did they find anything?" Jasper asked, perking up at the mention of fingerprints.

"Not that I know of."

"So you got nada." He pushed aside his half-eaten pancakes and dropped his head heavily onto the backs of his arms, the bright green baseball cap he refused to take off being pushed up in the process. The hat had cost Edward all of ten dollars at a Seattle Sounders game, but Jasper wore it like a sign of nobility.

"It's not a big thing, I promise you. Whoever sent this doesn't know shi— crap. It's a con."

Jasper responded with an exaggerated, trembling sigh.

"In other news," Edward said, bridging the gap of silence. "We have an interview with The Spectator this afternoon. That's the newspaper Seattle University runs, and that is where I studied Russian Literature for the three years before I met you."

Jasper held up his spoon and made an odd face into the reflection. "Dude, you need to get over it."

"Get over what?"

"Seattle University? It's small-time," he said, twisting his neck to the right and bulging his eyes. "You were a Russian Literature major there, like, a million years ago. You need to move on. We're global now!"

"I am over it," Edward insisted, though he wasn't. It nagged at him that he had never gone back to school. All he had to show from his time at college were some paid-off student loans and the fake diploma Emmett had forged to add credibility to his name. "Any press is good press, right?"

"It's just a college newspaper. And look, I get it. College is awesome." Jasper was now scrunching up his nose and showing all his teeth to the spoon. "It's the time for experimenting with drugs and heavy drinking and sexing up girls."

"Wha— Who— Where did you get that?" Edward sputtered. "Was it Alice? Tell me you haven't been asking her questions again."

"Yep. She told me," he said, tilting his head back, so he could see up his nose.

"Stop that!" Edward made a swipe for the spoon but knocked it from Jasper's hand instead. It bounced off the bench cushion to the floor.

"Be back in a jiffy!" Jasper said before disappearing under the table.

"Get out from under there. The spoon's filthy! We'll get you another one." Edward raised his hand to signal the nearest waitress. "Wait, wait. Stay under there," he hissed as the waitress caught his eye. She was a very attractive woman—all mahogany tresses and porcelain skin, with big brown eyes and full lips. She grinned and gave Edward the signal for "I'll be with you in a moment."

"What's going on?" Jasper asked, poking Edward in the shin.

"Stay under there. I want a minute to suss out whether we can trust her." In actuality, Edward wanted to talk to her without Jasper interfering with all of his predictable kid-nonsense.

"Great idea, captain!"

"Shhh!" She was walking over now, an order-taking pad in one hand and a pen in the other.

"Hi! Welcome to IHOP," she said cheerfully. "I assume you're the big brother?"

Edward was entranced by her voice. It had a deep, raspy quality to it. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Excuse me?"

"The kid that was here. He said his big brother was on his way. Where'd he go, anyway?" the waitress asked, looking at Jasper's empty seat.

"Jasper? He, um…" Edward reached to come up with something witty, a joke of some kind. "He disappeared. Into thin air. Magic-style."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"Poof." He made jazz fingers to enhance the sound.

She looked amused. Ka-ching! "So those are your pancakes with ketchup?"

"Absolutely." Edward grabbed the plate and dragged it toward him. "I just love pancakes with ketchup."

"Wow! That's so interesting!" she said, her eyes lighting up with mischief. "I'd love to know what it tastes like. Maybe you could try some and tell me?"

Edward appreciated that she was playing along, but yeah, that wasn't happening no matter how hot she was. He looked around the restaurant conspiratorially, then motioned with his index finger for her to come closer. When she hunched down, her pad and pen rising up to her chest the closer she got, Edward pointed and mouthed that Jasper was under the table.

"Ahhh," she said, righting herself. "Well, until he reappears, is there anything I can get you?"

"Nothing for me, thank you. But a new spoon for the kid would be excellent. And maybe the check…" Edward was going to tack on her name as a personal touch, but when he glimpsed her nametag, he read, "Renee? Your name's Renee?"

"Hmm? Oh." She looked down at her nametag. "No, the tag machine's broken, so I stole Renee's for now."

"If you don't mind me asking, where'd she go? Taking the day off or something?"

As the waitress reached into the pocket of her apron for a stack of receipts and began sorting through them, she said, "Renee decided to retire from the waitressing business to become a trapeze artist and marry a minor league baseball player."

Under the table, Edward could feel Jasper untying his shoelaces. He kicked him away. "No, seriously," Edward said. "She was a good friend."

A mix of a scoff and a chuckle came from the back of the waitress' throat. "And I'm her daughter. Trust me, she's just crazy enough to pull something like that off."

"Is that so?" Edward asked, wondering how Renee could leave without at least saying goodbye to Jasper. "She's not coming back?"

"I guess we'll see. She's had more 'callings' than I can count, but her devotion usually lacks verisimilitude."

"Verisimilitude: to have the appearance or semblance of truth," Edward recited automatically. The waitress appeared momentarily surprised before they both laughed. "Sorry, that was awkward. I'm something of a wordsmith, being a Russian Literature major over at Seattle University. You don't get many 'verisimilitudes' in everyday English anymore."

"Oh, you go to SU, too? I'm an English major there."

"Well, kind of. You see, I'm—"

Bella's attention drifted to another customer beckoning her. "Hey, I gotta run." She grabbed a silverware set wrapped in a napkin from a neighboring table and handed it to Edward. "Maybe I'll see you around!"

Edward watched her walk away and nearly blushed when she stole a glance back at him.

Jasper popped out from underneath the table. "So, are you going to sex her up?"

"Shut it."

. . .

A small, rented office separate from BITE, Inc. Headquarters was where Edward invited journalists to conduct their interviews. Microphones rigged throughout the main room fed into a soundproof booth, where Jasper would listen and supply the answers to any questions Edward didn't know through a nearly invisible transponder Edward wore in his ear.

Out of state interviews were trickier, as Edward couldn't exactly smuggle Jasper from Washington without committing a felony, not that Jasper's parents would have noticed if their son disappeared for days at a time. Jasper and Edward used a similar earbud system for those interviews, this one designed for long-distance transmission both ways, and made sure to tailor every interview around Jasper's schedule. Thus was the life of a millionaire frontman.

For the Seattle University interview, Edward wore khakis and a collared blue shirt, wanting to look sharp. If the name of the journalist was any indication, this interview was going to be a breeze. Female interviewers always went easier on him. Jasper said it was because he was good-looking, then congratulated himself for "discovering" Edward. Emmett said it was because of Edward's millions. Edward said it was because they were all secret gamers. BITE had a largely female fan base. The ladies loved the vampires.

"Here." Jasper passed Edward the box that held the delicate earbud.

"Can you see it?" Edward asked after putting it in, bending down to Jasper's height so he could take a look.

"Nope. You're good."

A knock on the office door alerted the boys the interviewer was here.

"Outfit?" Edward asked, smoothing down his shirt.

"Professional yet inviting," Jasper replied.

"Hair?"

"Naturally air swept but not in a douchey way."

"Teeth?" Edward smiled widely.

"Pearly white."

"Nose?"

"Booger free."

"Spectacular. Go time." Edward shut Jasper inside his room and took the thirteen long strides to the front of the main room. "Testing. Testing."

"Copied," Jasper said, clear and crisp in Edward's ear. "And action!"

After running one more hand down his shirt to smooth any wrinkles, Edward opened the door with a charming grin, which turned genuine when he saw who was behind it. "Hey! You're the waitress from this morning! How unlikely is this? And what an excellent surprise."

"Yes. It is quite the coincidence…" Whatever else the waitress (Bella, Edward remembered from the email) said after that was drowned out by a shout in Edward's ear.

"That's the waitress? We are so fucked!" Edward thanked God they had invested in decent soundproofing.

He wanted to both tell Jasper to shut up and reprimand him for using the F-word but could do neither with Bella standing inches away. He felt like such a dope, that goofy smile still in place, as he said, "Sorry, I didn't catch that last part."

She gave him a strange look but opened her lips to repeat, creating the odd sensation of watching a beautiful woman talk but only hearing a ranting twelve-year-old.

"She's Renee's daughter, and she's the press! We're fucked, Edward! Completely fucked. Renee probably told her all about us, and so she posed as a waitress this morning to get close to us. All she wanted was the skinny! And she did it! She got the skinny…"

Bella had finished talking and looked at Edward expectantly, like it was his turn to talk. Jasper was still shouting in his ear. It was all too much.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" he said but didn't wait for Bella to voice her confusion; he wouldn't have been able to hear it anyways.

He had a very difficult decision to make: barge into the sound booth, likely exposing Jasper and risking millions upon millions of dollars, or… look like a crazy person. Millions or crazy? Edward was having difficulty deciding over Jasper's continued hysterics. Standing there after having excused himself wasn't helping either. Crazy, he decided, turning his back on Bella and walking to a corner of the room that was far enough from her that she wouldn't hear.

"Jasper. Jasper!" Edward whisper-shouted. "I need you to pull it together."

"But we are fucked!"

"Stop using language like that, or I swear I will restrict you from Alice for a week!"

"You can't do that!"

"Watch me." Edward looked over his shoulder at Bella, smiled reassuringly, and gave her the same "I'll be with you in a moment" signal she had given him that morning. He could only imagine what this must look like.

"But you cuss!"

"You listen up, young man! Be quiet and let me get through this. We don't know what she knows, and we'll never know if you don't shut up and let me talk to her."

"But, but… This is how college students become serious reporters. They get one big story and BOOM! People Magazine."

"Relax! Breathe. And only speak when you know I don't have an answer ready," Edward whispered with finality. "And for Christ's sake, stop making me look like a mental patient. That's only going to make her more suspicious."

"Fine," Jasper said.

Bella was massaging her head when Edward turned back around. Jasper was right. They were fucked. Edward had no idea how he was going to recover from this catastrophic series of events. "I am truly sorry about that."

She looked up, her fingers remaining on her temple, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Edward motioned for her to take a seat in the plush leather chair they had set up for journalists, while he all but collapsed on the matching sofa. "You know how creative people act sometimes. A little bipolar, a little schizo. Characters always floating around up here." Edward's hand erratically shook over his brain. "Sometimes I just have to tell them all to shut up or I can't hear a damn thing!"

He laughed to lighten the mood, but Bella looked genuinely concerned and did not sit down. "You suffer from mental illness?"

"No, no," Edward hurried to say. "That—that's not what I meant at all. I'm not crazy. A little overwhelmed sometimes, sure. I promise you I'm totally sane. At least that's what the people at the loony bin tell me."

Her head twisted pensively. "So you're not mentally ill, but you like to make fun of those who are?"

"No! Of course not!" In the earbud, Jasper was banging his head against his desk. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot. Please, have a seat. Let me make you a cup of coffee or tea."

"No, thank you," she said but did finally sit down. "As I was saying earlier, it's quite the coincidence running into you twice in one day."

Something occurred to Edward that he hadn't picked up on earlier. "You didn't seem surprised when I opened the door."

She pulled out a folder from her purse. "I didn't realize who you were earlier. I mean, who would expect Edward Cullen to show up at IHOP? But I recognized your name from the signature on your receipt, then ran to the back where I happened to have this." She held up a printout of an article. "It's old news by now."

"A likely story," Jasper muttered.

"Shhh!"

"What was that?"

"I meant that shhhh-ure is a coincidence. Didn't Renee ever talk about me?"

"No." Edward wanted to push that topic further, but she'd already moved on. "You were right about one thing. We got this interview off on the wrong foot. I'm Bella Swan from The Spectator." She held out her hand.

"And I'm Edward Cullen, CEO of BITE, Inc.," he said, taking it. The two maintained eye contact while they shook, and Edward couldn't help thinking, yet again, what an attractive woman she was. Her hand was soft in his, and a feeling of rightness enveloped him until she pulled away. Finally, something was going good.

She cleared her throat and pulled out a tape recorder. "Um, I have a few personal questions for you, just to help fluff up the article. Then we'll move onto the typical questions about your product."

"Absolutely," he said, preparing for the repetitive "Are you single?" and "What do you do in your spare time?" questions he got every interview.

Bella finished setting up the recorder, pressed the red button, flipped to a bookmarked page in a notebook, and fired off her first question. "Have you always been an Edward? Or did you ever go by a nickname?"

This was a question Edward had never gotten before. He sat forward, eager to hear what else she'd come up with. "Nope, I've always been an Edward."

"Really?" she asked. "You never went by Ed or Eddie?"

"No, of course not." She didn't need to know about his secret identity at Jasper's soccer league.

"Why, 'of course'?"

"Well, you know Ed is spelt E-D," Edward said. "And E.D. stands for Erectile Dysfunction."

"For the love of peanut butter, just stop talking! Stop talking now!" Edward jumped, having momentarily forgotten Jasper was listening in.

He hadn't been trying to make Bella laugh or anything, and she didn't. She sat in stony silence, glaring at Edward. What had he done? He was being honest! (Well, not really.) He sat back, folded his arms, and stared right back at her.

Her silence was mightier than his.

"Maybe we should skip the personal questions," he sheepishly suggested.

Bella didn't drop his gaze. "I think that is a wise idea." She flipped to another page in her notebook.

"How do you respond to criticism that some of the features you've given the vampires of BITE are absurd? That your vampires don't hold up to the vampires of other books, movies, or television shows?"

"That is utterly preposterous!"

Edward was so proud of Jasper. He had obviously been playing with his thesaurus. "Which vampire characteristics are you specifically referring to?" he asked.

"For instance," she glanced down at her notepad. "Vampires in BITE can have babies."

"No, they can't!"

"That's not exactly accurate."

"Oh? Please explain."

"A female vampire's body never changes and is therefore incapable of carrying a child. However, if they so wish, male vampires can mate with human women and have hybrid children."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Bella muttered, scribbling notes down.

Edward tugged at his collar, more and more aware of how hot the room was becoming.

"Explain about the venom," Jasper said. "It all makes sense if you mention the venom."

"A male vampire produces—"

"Why do your vampires sparkle in the sunlight?" she asked, cutting him off.

"You wanted your vampires to be original. The BITE vampires are more scientific than mythological. Their skin is made up of granite, so when it reacts with the sun—"

Edward tried for a joke, hoping he and Bella would finally be on the same side of something. "It is somewhat flamboyant, isn't it?"

She quirked her eyebrows and wrote further in her notebook. "I actually thought it was one of the more creative aspects of the game."

He pawed his hair in frustration. Was he never going to win with this girl?

"In earlier prototypes of BITE, the acronym stood for 'The Brethren of Immortal and Tabanid Everlasting.' Do you know what 'tabanid' means?" Did she know what tabanid meant? What kind of person knew that?

"Yes."

"And what is that?"

"Blood-sucking insect."

She appeared surprised that Edward wasn't fibbing about the extent of his vocabicon (vocab lexicon—or was it lexicab? He'd ask Jasper later). "Were there blood-sucking flies in the original edition of the game?"

"No."

"May I inquire as to why you essentially named your game 'The Brethren of Immortal and Blood-sucking Insects Everlasting'?"

Edward hesitated at this question, hoping that Jasper was coming up with something brilliant.

"If you think I'm going to help you out now, I'm not," Jasper grumbled. "Sparkling in the sun is not flamboyant! It's creative. Even she said so."

Slouching back in resignation, Edward said, "I needed something to fit the T in BITE. As you pointed out, it was a prototype. I wasn't too concerned."

"But certainly someone who was a Russian Literature major and is a self-proclaimed wordsmith could have come up with something better." She had a smirk in place.

Edward gritted his teeth at her backhanded comment and ran another aggravated hand through his hair, reminding himself that he couldn't exactly tell her that a ten-year-old had come up with that prototype. "The T in BITE now stands for Trinity. It refers to the coven of the three most powerful vampires that live in Italy. It's a storyline I hadn't yet come up with."

"What do you say to the thousands of men worldwide who have identified themselves as WITEs, the Widowers of Immortal and Trinity Everlasting? Men whose wives have been so immersed in the game, they now feel alone in their marriages. Or to the sons and daughters of those women who have been neglected for a computer game?"

"Oh, is that your problem?" Edward snapped. "Renee always was a big gamer." Bella's jaw clenched, but she didn't respond. Edward was glad he had finally struck a nerve. "I would say to get a membership and play along with her. It's a family game."

"You mean with all the human and vampire mating going on? You encourage children to join in on the fun."

"We have a child-safe version…" Jasper piped up, apparently feeling helpful again.

"That's not what I meant," Edward argued. "We have a child-safe version available for—"

"Why don't you admit that you don't care if families are ripped apart by your game as long as you make a buck?"

"Dude, this girl is hardcore! What is her problem?"

"Yes, what is your problem?" Edward asked. "You have been completely hostile since the moment you walked into the room."

"My problem is that I cannot stand layers!"

"You can't stand layers?"

"Liars. I meant to say liars," she corrected. "And this whole thing has been one giant lie after another."

That shut Edward up.

"You aren't even going to try and deny it, are you?"

"Deny what?" he asked.

"That you lied to me this morning! You're not a Russian Literature major at Seattle University. How could you be? You're too busy running a multimillion-dollar corporation."

"Okay, that was not my fault. I was about to explain to you that I had been a Russian Literature student there when you got called away by another customer. I did not lie." Edward lied all the time. He was not about to let Bella diminish his very few truths.

She took a breath to think about it. Edward decided to push his luck before she could respond. "And if you were a proper journalist, you would have known that. It's all over the web, and I'm sure it's in at least one of those articles you have printed in that folder that I have a degree in Russian Literature." It wasn't a real degree but a degree nonetheless.

Her eyes flared. "I am a proper journalist, and I happened to have read in one of those articles that you don't have any siblings. What of that, huh?"

"Yes. What of that?" Edward asked, confused at where she was going.

"The kid, Edward. Your supposed 'Little Brother.'"

"Who? Jasper?" Speaking of, Edward wondered what had happened to his more annoying half. Had he passed out somewhere around "This whole thing has been one giant lie after another"? Or maybe he was sobbing in a corner.

"Yeah. Him," Bella said. "What does he really have to do with all this?"

She had asked the question in a mix of rage and adrenaline. Edward was sure she didn't know how significant that question actually was. But how to answer it in a way that would satisfy her, without giving anything away… Edward reached over and turned off her tape recorder. She was staggered by the action but didn't stop him.

"Jasper is my… friend."

"Your friend?" she repeated, indignation rampant in her voice.

"He's more than my friend."

"This is getting creepy." Bella picked up her recorder and folder and stuffed them in her bag.

"I look after him," Edward practically yelled as she stood to leave. "So did your mother, as a matter of fact. Bought him a stack of pancakes every damn Saturday for more than two years before I came along."

Bella turned around slowly. Her purse was dangling unsteadily around her wrist. "What are you talking about?"

"I…" Edward paused, frustrated. His feet took three steps toward her without permission. She didn't recoil or flee like he'd expected. "I can't talk about it." Jasper was in the other room, listening to every word. Edward wished he would speak now, to let Edward know what he was thinking.

"And what do Jasper's parents think of all this?"

"Jasper doesn't have parents," he whispered resentfully, praying that Jasper wouldn't be able to hear.

Bella clasped a hand over her mouth. "He's an orphan?" she whispered back.

"That's the worst part," Edward said. "He isn't."

Her gaze dropped to the floor. It felt like minutes before she spoke again. "Renee helped take care of him?"

"Before I came along, I think she was his only real friend. And look, I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds here. Renee may be flaky, but she's a good person."

"Yeah," Bella snorted. "Good to everyone else maybe."

"Please, regardless of everything, can you please, please not include anything about this in the article? He's a kid."

"Fine, but I have to go," she said, hiking her purse back up her shoulder and turning around.

"What about dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, let me take you out to eat," he said. "Give me a chance to convince you that I'm not a total moron."

"Uh, thanks. But no. I really have to go," she said.

"This is about the erectile dysfunction joke, isn't it?" Edward asked, frowning.

She half-laughed. "No, I need to go write this. I have a deadline."

"I can pay off your editor."

"I really need to do it now," she said, making a beeline for the exit.

"Wait!" Edward called out, following closely behind her. If nothing else, he needed to make doubly sure she wouldn't write about Jasper. "Certainly you can stay a little longer." He made a grab for her hand. "You haven't even been here fifteen minutes. How much can you really know about me?"

She whipped around. "Talking to you is like foreplay."

Edward dropped her hand. Had she really just said what he thought she said? Was she using her article as an excuse to go home and…

"Not that I mind the analogy, but could you please explain?"

She sighed. "Interviewing someone is like foreplay. It's fun and fresh and gets you all warmed up for writing the article. But if you wait too long afterward, you kind of lose it. Do you want me to lose it?"

"Yes and no," he whispered hoarsely. "But mostly yes."

"Goodnight, Mr. Cullen," she said before walking out the door.

Jasper appeared by Edward's side. "I think you handled that really well," he said cheerfully.

Edward didn't respond.

"I personally cannot wait to read her rendition of that interview."

He was being facetious.

"She's definitely not a proper journalist."

That Edward could agree with.

"What's foreplay?"

And he was definitely not answering that question.

"You know that if you don't tell me now, Alice will later."

"Shut it."

. . .

FWD: Seattle University Article

From: Jasper Whitlock (aliceknowsall {at} bite. com)
To: Edward Cullen (edwardcullen {at} bite. com)

Mon 6/08, 2:17 PM

Hey Erectile Dysfunction,

The article is pasted below. HOW DID YOU DO IT? I thought she hated us!

Jasper

CEO of BITE, Inc. Not Your Average Cold-Blooded Capitalist

By Bella Swan

Only half a portrait is painted when one reads about Edward Cullen on the Internet. The official biography on his corporate website tells of a brilliant man who imagined an alternate universe into being, then brought it to your home computer through a series of shrewd business decisions. Media circles describe him as the ideal fusion of innovation, industrialism, and consumerism. The average Jane prattles on chat boards about the handsome face behind the computer game.

Not until meeting Mr. Cullen in person can his portrait be completed. Yes, he's brilliant. Yes, he's handsome. He's witty, sometimes comical, often offensive, undoubtedly strange, and fundamentally, to the core, good. Mr. Cullen is the millionaire with a heart as gold as his bank account.

Edward's golden heart stopped, then pattered violently as he read on. Bella thought he was good. Good! Where had that come from? For the past week, he'd been preparing for the worst, the bitter fallout of a scorching assault on his character. But this… This made it seem like Bella liked Edward. She thought he was good. And handsome. And well, strange, but he'd take that over outright crazy any day.

He scanned the rest of the article and was relieved that she hadn't mentioned Jasper. There wasn't even a hidden allusion to him, like a mention of Edward working with underprivileged kids. The article said that he was good but left it there without explaining why. It then launched into details about the game and how it was created, which Edward could only assume Bella had collected from her research.

This was excellent. Perfect, really! Well, not the article. The article was bad. Bella would never make it as a journalist. But the outcome for BITE was unexpectedly terrific. Edward doubted anyone would even read it now that it wasn't a character assassination. "Good" didn't sell papers.

Edward typed out a quick email to Jasper: Have no idea what happened. Feel like a trip to IHOP this weekend?

After pressing the "Send" button, Edward settled back into his office chair for a re-read of the article. Something about the last paragraph, especially, sent a tingle up his spine.

While speaking extensively with Mr. Cullen about the inner workings of his creative process, I found myself inclined to enjoy his hysterically unfunny jokes and maniacally persuasive ramblings. More to the point, I found myself wishing I could spend more time with them. After all, the world is an extraordinary place when you're slightly strange.