Hello lovelies! Thank you so so much for the warm welcome back. Based on the feedback I received, I think we're gonna go ahead and try another chapter and see where this little story goes. It ought to be a lot of fun. I mean, who doesn't like a sweet little Bella and a grumpy older Edward?

Side note: Once we get this story off the ground (three chapters or so), I'm hoping to settle into a once per week updating schedule. If you'd prefer that I actually wait the full week before posting chapter three just let me know. I'd hate to spoil you too much the first week, only to slow down posting and disappoint you. I'm flexible.

I think it goes without saying that I've taken quite a bit of creative license with the way Bella inherited her late father's debt as well as any inner workings of Playboy, but it's a bit of fun nonetheless.

Lets be friends on Twitter lailabentz

As per usual, I don't own any of this.

~Bella~

I start my day an hour earlier today, stopping by the front office of my apartment building and putting the two thousand dollar sign on bonus to good use. I'm able to completely catch up on my rent and even have a little extra cash to put away for emergencies. It's such a good feeling to start the day with one less worry.

The air is cold and crisp as Jeffrey, the driver, helps me from the back of the town car and I smile inwardly as I enter my new access code into the keypad. I quickly make my way to the Bunny Room and am pleasantly surprised to find six large boxes stacked in front of my armoire.

"What's all this?" I ask no one in particular gesturing toward the boxes as I remove my coat and gloves.

"All our stuff! Well, most of it. God, can you believe it? I could never afford this kind of luxury. It's unreal", Alice says as she slumps dramatically into her vanity chair, her slight southern accent wrapping around each word.

"I know", Maggie pipes in with a wistful sigh, "A girl could certainly get used to this." I nod my head in agreement, recalling all of the designer cosmetics and clothes we sampled yesterday. A girl most definitely could get used to this. I only hope I can get used to the less glamorous parts of the job as well. I mean, it could be worse right? I could still be working three jobs for less than half of what I'll be making now. A barely there costume and a fluffy tail are a small price to pay if we're being completely honest.

Glass half full and all that.

Without further ado, I dig right into my boxes. Inside I find my activewear and basics as well as all of my cosmetics, personal care items, and styling tools. Two sets. Just like Enrique and Diane promised. I pull out one set and start arranging everything in and on top of my vanity, taking my time to appreciate the beautiful, luxurious packaging of all of the high end brands. I've personally never owned anything like this so I refuse to squander the opportunity to savor it.

In the last box, we all find five velour tracksuits in our "Bunny Color" with large rhinestone encrusted Playboy bunny logos on the back and our name embroidered on the left chest. There are also five sports bras with a rhinestone Playboy bunny in the center chest as well as five pair of matching spandex booty shorts with the same encrusted bunny on the hip. We all snicker when Tanya makes a remark about how we're gonna be channeling J-Lo circa 2004. I mean, they're beautiful, classy tracksuits, just perhaps a little outdated. No one really knows what to do with them so we decide to tuck everything away into our armoires and wait for further instruction.

Once I'm satisfied that everything is neatly organized and in its proper place, I pull out my Bunny Bible. We have about twenty minutes until we are scheduled to meet in the lounge so I take the few free minutes to review the notes I took last night, before bed, on chapter one. Irina said that's where we are starting this morning so I thought it would be prudent to get familiar with the topics that will be covered.

At five minutes to nine, we all make our way to the lounge and find a seat, the opulence of the room still taking my breath away. Irina comes in at nine o'clock on the dot and hands us each a schedule.

"Good morning, ladies." Her voice is no nonsense this morning. "Here is your schedule for the rest of the week. If I were you, I'd stash it away somewhere safe and accessible. We have a lot to cover today, so let's head back to the vanity room and get started."

She is pleasantly surprised to find that we've all gone ahead and put everything away, so she jumps right into walking us through getting ready for the day. As promised, the three hair stylists and makeup artists are walking around the room in case any of us get stuck, but we are urged to use our Bunny Bible more than anything. Once we are all finished with hair and makeup, she segues right into our required attire for the rest of Bunny Boot Camp. We are required to wear the spandex shorts and sports bra that were provided layered underneath the velour tracksuit. We are to be in full hair and makeup at all times and have our four inch practice pumps and name tag easily accessible for our waitressing classes.

"We all know that the tracksuits are outdated, ladies, but Hef loves them so we humor him. In other words, put them on and keep your comments to yourself." She looks at us over the rim of her glasses and it looks like she means business. Still, she manages to crack a smile at the few escaped giggles we can't seem to manage.

Obediently, we all change into our tracksuits and I have to grudgingly admit that they do look classy. The emerald green of Maggie's is to die for against her auburn hair and the pale yellow is a striking contrast against Alice's inky black hair. Neither can compare to the deep blue of mine, however. The rhinestones glitter beautifully against the rich color and it doesn't look half bad against my pale skin and dark hair if I do say so myself. I guess our stylists know what they're doing after all.

Next on the agenda is a history lesson. We cover the Playboy brand, touch briefly on the magazine, extensively cover the early Playboy clubs and spend the majority of the time learning about the introduction of the "Bunnies" and what they represent. I'm both inspired and intimidated by the end of the lesson. Could I really be a walking fantasy, just like the women before me? I do have doubts, but I have to believe it's possible. The hiring staff chose me, out of hundreds of applicants. That has to count for something, right? They obviously saw something in me that I don't and I'm just going to have to trust their judgement. They're the experts after all. So with a newfound determination, I finish off my lunch and tackle the second half of my day vowing to myself to be as successful as I possibly can. I want to make the people who gave me this opportunity, proud. I want to make myself proud.

The next three weeks fly by in a flurry of activity and before we know it, we are halfway through boot camp. At this point, we've mastered the Bunny Stance, the Bunny Dip and the Bunny Perch. We can identify one hundred and forty six brands of liquor and we all know how to garnish fifty two cocktail variations. Our bodies are more toned, our makeup skills more honed and it feels like we've put a thousand miles on our practice pumps. I never dreamed the amount of hard work and dedication I'd have to put in to become a Bunny.

After lunch on the Monday of week five, we are brought up to the same open space on the third floor that we were brought on our first day. Today, however, it's set up as a makeshift bar. There are several high top tables arranged into six sections as well as a hostess booth at the front and the Bunny Rail set up along the back wall. The Bunny Rail is where we are to "perch" during down times. The room looks very informal and I know we will be using plastic cups instead of glasses but those details don't minimize the significance of the day.

Today we get to strip down to our spandex and sports bras, don our practice heels and serve actual people. Granted they are spouses and support staff, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. I'll take living, breathing people over imaginary people any day. Do you know how hard it is to converse with air? Trust me, it's impossible. The fact that we get to interact with actual people does little to quell my nerves, however, and suddenly the lemon chicken I had for lunch desperately wants to make a reappearance.

"You can do this, Bella. Take a deep breath." Jessica's encouragement helps me to get myself together and not with a second to spare.

"Places, Bunnies!" Irina shouts with two sharp claps of her hands.

We all scramble to find our place to perch on the rail while our fake bouncer opens the door and our fake hostess starts seating people in our areas. I'll be sharing a section with Emily today, for which I'm thankful. She's a sweet Native American girl from Oklahoma with deep russet skin and silky straight black hair. Needless to say she's absolutely stunning in her bright coral Bunny Color. She has a laidback demeanor but she's quick with the wit so working with her today should be a load of fun. She gives me a subtle fist bump as we head off to greet our first customers. She heads toward the table with two middle aged men and I veer off to the table with an older gentleman and a younger lady.

"Good afternoon, I am your Bunny Isabella. May I see your Playboy key, please?" I make sure to smile warmly while holding a perfect Bunny Stance as the gentleman pulls the sleek black membership card from his wallet. When I swipe his card and receive a green light, I quickly take note of his favorite liquors that pop up on the screen of the card reader before I continue with the script, "Thank you, Mr. Richardson, what will you be drinking this afternoon?" He smiles back at me before answering, "I'll have a bourbon. Top shelf." I try not to fidget at his not so subtle perusal of my body as I reply, "Will Hudson Baby be acceptable, Mr. Richardson?" He nods once and I pivot toward his companion to give her my full attention, "And for the lady?" She looks me up and down before answering dismissively, "Sauvignon Blanc." I plaster a smile on my face and with as much confidence as I can muster, I reply, "Of course, madam." I try to steel my composure as I turn to leave the table. I honestly have no idea why I'm so unnerved. I knew it would most likely be that way, I guess experiencing the blatant leering in person for the first time is jarring. It can o lyrics get better from here. Now I know what to expect,and by the time I reach my next table, my smile is actually genuine.

By the end of our two hour shift, I've messed up three drink orders, cried twice and my feet feel like they're on fire. But, we've made it through our first live trial run and I can't help the huge smile that spreads across my face as I collapse onto one of the plush couches in our lounge. The fact that I've made three hundred dollars in tips doesn't hurt either.

Three hundred dollars in two hours. Goodness.

Lauren plops down next to me and blows her blonde sideswept bangs out of her eyes as she let's her head drop back. "Wow, that was intense." I don't have the energy to form an actual response so I merely hum in acknowledgement. She groans before she adds, "That was only two hours. Can you imagine eight full hours of that? I'm gonna die. My poor feet are gonna die."

"But just imagine the tips. That alone makes it worth the torture on our feet." I continue rubbing the sole of my tired foot as I continue my thought, "Maybe I'll use some of today's tips and stop by Walgreens on my way home. I'm sure they've gotta have some kind of cushioned inserts or something. I bet that'll help."

"You're a damn genius, Swan. Hey, Jess, wanna swing by Walgreens after work with Bella and me? We're about to stock up on cushioned insoles."

"Yes!"

"Me too." Alice, throws in.

"Me three." Maggie says at the same time causing us all to laugh.

Before long we've got a plan for all twelve of us to go Walgreens shopping after work. Hopefully we find something that works.

Four weeks, twenty two hour trial shifts and twelve different styles of gel inserts later, I not only find my holy grail foot relief, but I also find my confidence, inner glamazon, and nerves of steel.

We've made it to the last Friday of Bunny Boot Camp, and we are currently having our final costume fitting. This time when we remove our costumes, they will be immediately checked into the Bunny Closet, which is a tiny room off the Vanity Room, where they will be kept under lock and key. We are to check them out with the Bunny Mother at the beginning of each shift and then check them back in with her at the close of each shift. She responsible for the care, cleaning, upkeep and safety of each of the costumes.

Nothing, not even the fact that we have to turn in our costumes at the end of each day, can quell the buzz of excitement surrounding us as we each shimmy into the skintight bodysuits and affix all of the accessories, down to the black fishnet stockings, for the very first time. The moment I slip on the perfectly dyed to match shoes, I feel validated. The last eight weeks have truly been a journey toward earning the honor to wear these beautifully crafted, exquisitely detailed costumes.

We are officially Bunnies.

These last eight weeks have been torture and enlightenment. Frustration and perseverance. But they've been worth it. I'm stronger than I've ever been both mentally and physically and I've gained eleven new sisters who are the best friends I could've ever dreamed of having. I've also managed to update my winter wardrobe as well as make a small dent in one of my father's debts with my new income and tips, and that's not even with a full schedule. I honestly feel like I could take on the world right now.

We are moved into our lounge and artfully posed on and around the large couch and a couple of chairs so that Jerry Rhodes, Playboy's most famous photographer, can capture the latest class of Playboy Bunnies on film. Once the image is captured and each piece of our costumes are inventoried and locked away, Irina gathers us all together for one last tradition.

With beautiful words of encouragement and praise, each of us twelve girls is gifted a dainty necklace with a small Playboy bunny head made of platinum and encrusted with tiny diamonds. The bunny's eye on each of the pendants are a brilliant jewel in our own Bunny Color. Tears gather in my eyes as I gaze at the beautiful, glittering bunny with the sapphire eye. When I flip the Bunny over emotion washes over me as I see my monogram engraved into the back of the precious metal. Irina kisses each of our cheeks as she affixes the chain around each of our necks, and as the cool shimmering bunny settles into the hollow at the base of my throat, it feels like my new world settles around me.

I'm so ready to experience everything this new world has to offer.

Who owned a velour tracksuit in the 2000's and what color was it? Don't lie! hahaha

It appears that Bella is pretty excited about her new job, doesn't it. Man, I would be too if they provided me with designer skin care and cosmetics. Sign me up!

Next up, we get to meet our favorite grump. Can't wait to see how that goes.

Smooches, Laila