Hello again!
Thank you to Krystle and Alby for their beta/pre-reading services. Any mistakes are mine, because i'm a fiddly whore.
Also a big thank you to Christag who did a lovely banner for me, which you can see on my profile.
It was lovely to see some old faces follow me from Lessons. I'm eternally grateful to anyone who willingly reads my insanity.
Who's ready to meet Edward?
xxx Wink
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or it's characters, a Ms Meyer does. Also, please don't copy or reproduce my work elsewhere. It takes my entire brain cell just to write this, and stealing is no fun.
Warning: This chapter contains drug references/drug use.
Mr Big-Shot AKA Sparkles
EPOV
"Wake up! Wake up!"
I gasped, and my eyes flew open as something small and round connected with my balls.
"Wake up, Uncle Edward!"
Grunting, I looked up to find my six year-old niece on my bed, still in her pyjamas, jumping up and down like a deranged psychopath. Or just an over-eager child. Same, same.
"Janetta," I groaned, rolling out of bed. "What are you doing up here? Where's your Mom?"
It felt like one of my balls had migrated back up into my body and I limped around the bedroom cupping my left nut, trying to coax it back down.
"Mommy told me..." bounce...bounce, "to come and get you out of bed," she puffed, her wild black curls bouncing like springs around her head.
I caught her just as she was about to jump again, tossing her over my shoulder while she screamed bloody murder. She giggled like a hyena as I plonked her down outside my bedroom with a thump. "Why don't you go and get dressed or something?"
I swear that child lived just to give me hell.
After laying my clothes out for the day, I took a shower. Rather than rushing like I usually did, I took my time.
I washed every part of my body - twice. And after I was satisfied that every single part of me was squeaky clean, I got out and dried myself thoroughly, making sure to get between my toes and behind my ears. I shaved, making sure to trim my nose hair. I cut my toenails and applied deodorant.
Twice.
It was going to be a big day and I had to look sharp, and smell good.
I'd been with KID for almost five years. I'd worked my way through various positions, from lowly photocopy boy, all the way to sales manager. But finally, my day had come. I had paid my dues, and my ship was coming in. I, Edward Cullen, would ascend to Chief Risk Officer for the New York division of Kuntz Insurance Division.
I checked my reflection once more. Nice suit, plain tie, clean and tidy hair. Perfect.
I strolled into the kitchen with a little more spring in my step than usual. "Morning little man," I said, waving to my eighteen-month old nephew. Like always, his face, his bib and his high chair were all covered with Cheerios and milk. I doubted if he actually got any in his mouth.
"Oh, Lashawn," whined Alice as she swooped into the kitchen, looking decidedly more dressed up than usual for so early in the morning. Of course, for Alice, dressed up meant a skirt longer than the bottom of her ass cheeks, and a top that wasn't a hoodie.
I sipped my coffee as I watched my sister clean up her youngest, removing all the Cheerios he'd stuffed up his nose.
"You gotta take the kids this morning, Edward," said Alice, trying to stop Janetta from wriggling as she tied her hair up.
I shook my head. "You know I have a big day today. I have to be there early, I told you this."
Alice frowned, letting Janetta off the stool and pulling Lashawn out of his high chair. "No you didn't."
"Yes, I did."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yuh-huh."
It was like sixth grade all over again.
Alice huffed loudly as she hoisted her son up higher on her hip. "Whatever, Edward. What am I s'posed to do now, huh? I got an appointment with my family lawyer at nine. Then I promised Rose I would go with her to this stupid Zumba class at eleven."
I looked at Lashawn's little face as he gurgled loudly, drool bubbling between his pink little lips.
"Pwease, Uncle Edward?" cooed Alice, waving his chubby little hand at me.
"Don't use him against me like that!" I scowled as I checked my watch and sighed loudly, holding my arms out for him. "Fine. But they need to be ready to go in ten minutes."
Alice thanked me profusely as she dashed out of the kitchen, almost slipping on a Cheerio.
If I didn't love her kids so much, I would have kicked her backside back to her ex-husband's house a long time ago.
Alice had been living with me since she split with her husband Jasper almost six months ago. And since our parents had sold their house upstate for a condo in Florida, I let her move in with me until she could find something else. But like I said, that was six months ago.
In all honesty, KID paid me well, which meant I had a pretty decent sized house with lots of space out back for the kids, as well as separate living areas for me when they got to be too much.
Of course, what came with my younger sister and her kids was noise, crying, toys all over the place and grubby fingerprints on every surface they could reach. As much as I loved her, I couldn't wait for things to be settled so that I could have the house to myself again.
"What are you giggling about back there?" I asked, trying to look in the rear view mirror at the two kids strapped in the back.
Janetta shook her head, covering her mouth as she giggled some more.
I glanced at the clock impatiently. Who knew school traffic could be this bad?
Another round of giggles erupted again. "What are you doing, Netty?" I asked, completely unable to stop myself from smiling at her cute little girlie giggling.
"Lashawn is saying bad words," she laughed.
Lashawn clapped his hands together, squealing.
"What's he saying?" I asked, a little worried that maybe I had been the one to slip.
She shook her head, refusing to say the word.
I took a deep cleansing breath. The child frustrated me no end. "You have to tell me, Netty."
Janetta leaned forward, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Sh-i-t," she whispered loudly.
Hearing her say the word, Lashawn started bouncing up and down, clapping his hands together as he echoed her over and over. "Shit. Shit. Shit..."
"Lashawn! Janetta, where did you learn that word?" I asked, trying not to laugh.
Janetta shrugged. "Mommy says it sometimes."
I was surprised they hadn't picked up something worse. Alice had a filthy mouth, especially when she was angry. She'd been the one to introduce the word 'fuckballs' into my family's vocabulary. She also liked 'mother shitter', and the always wonderful 'cunt muffin'.
"Well, don't say it anymore, okay? It's a word for mommies and daddies," I admonished, trying to keep a straight face.
It was kind of funny watching Lashawn bounce up and down squealing the word 'shit' loudly.
"What does it mean?" she asked, looking at me through the rear view mirror.
I scratched my head, trying to think of an appropriate answer. "It means..." I so desperately wanted to be at work right at that moment. "It means poop. But it's a bad word and only adults can use it, okay?"
Janetta nodded, seemingly content with my answer, thank God!
With a hug and a wave, I dropped her at the front gate, making sure to watch her until she walked through the doors, and then made my way to Lashawn's day care centre.
I'd dropped my nephew a few times before, and it always felt like running the gauntlet. Give a single man a baby an apparently it makes him a homing beacon for single moms. They seemed to like to touch my arm and laugh hysterically at everything I said, even if it wasn't funny.
Holding him in one arm, I ducked and weaved through the centre like I was James Bond; hiding behind walls and peering around corners. I signed Lashawn in and high-tailed it into his room, barely stopping to speak to his carer. Luckily for me, I got out of there unscathed. Not that I had anything against single moms, per se. I just wasn't in the market for one.
"Edward?"
I turned to see Irina, the CEO's secretary looking at me expectantly. "He's ready to see you now," she nodded, ushering me to the office.
I straightened my tie and knocked on the door quietly before stepping into the office.
"Edward!" he basically yelled across the office.
Kuntz was an overweight, balding man with a propensity to spit when he spoke. I was lucky that I never had to spend a great deal of time with him. Until now.
"I think you know why you're here, Edward," he spat. Literally; a little glob of shiny saliva landing on his dark wood desktop.
I nodded, adjusting myself so that I wasn't sitting directly in his line of fire. "I think so, Mr. Kuntz."
"Please, Edward, call me Richard," he replied with a smile as he wiped his handkerchief across his shiny forehead.
"Richard," I corrected, forcing a smile back.
"You've been with us for five years now, Edward. And here at KID we like to award our valued staff. So we think you would be better suited to something a little more senior. Something along the lines of CRO?"
I couldn't help but smile. "That does sound good."
"Can I take that smile as an 'I'll do it'?"
I nodded quickly. "Of course. I'd love the position."
"Excellent," said Richard, clapping his hands together. "There are a few things I'd like to go over with you. Being Chief Risk Officer is a big job. It has it's perks, but it's also a lot of hard work. So I'll leave it with you for the weekend. Let it all settle in, give you some time to think about it. And then first thing Monday morning, we'll talk about all the finer details."
I stood as he rounded the desk, clamping his hand on my shoulder as he shook my hand. "Well done, son," he said, and I had to clench my teeth to stop my eye from squinting as a little ball of spit landed on my cheek.
"Thank you, Richard. You won't regret it."
"I hope not. Anyway, I don't mean to be rude, but it's almost five and I have a dinner date with my wife."
"Oh, well, enjoy your night, and have a great weekend," I said, my hand itching to wipe my face.
"You too, Edward. Go out and celebrate. Live a little!" he replied, showing the sweat stains on his shirt as he waved.
I smiled politely at Irina as I left the office and made my way to the staff bathrooms. As soon as I got in there, I grabbed a sheet of paper towel and scrubbed my face as hard as I could. It made me shudder to think I would have to spend more time with Richard. I would have to invest in a SWAT helmet, or at the very least, my own personal sneeze guard. Anything to stop his saliva from splattering all over my face.
As I tidied my desk for what could possibly have been the last time, Harry from accounts stopped beside me. "You going to come out and celebrate, Mr. Big-shot?"
I shrugged. I wasn't really the partying type. I was rather hoping to go home and celebrate with some takeaway Thai and an X-Files marathon.
"Ummm..."
"Come on, Ed," he pleaded. "Just come for one drink."
I looked at the time. It was only six o'clock, I really didn't have any reason to say no.
"Sure, why not?"
Of course, one drink turned into two drinks, which turned into six, which turned into shots. And then suddenly, I found myself waiting in line at a gay bar with six co-workers.
"You'll love this place, Edward," said Herbie, or Henry, or whatever his name was.
I looked around at the sparkly walls and half naked men, confused as to why he thought this type of bar would be my kind of place. The music was pretty cool though, and everyone was super nice, even if I did have to fend off a few unwanted advances.
It seemed that all I got were unwanted advances lately. I very rarely met truly nice girls, which was all I wanted. I had no particular preference as to hair colour or breast-size. I just wanted someone I could hold an intelligent conversation with. But New York seemed to be full of women who were only out for money, with their silicone enhanced breasts and fish-lips. Most of them were nice to look at, but when it came down to what was inside, they were lacking.
I picked up my glass and swallowed the last of my drink, wincing as a nasty chalky taste registered in my mouth.
"Did you just drink my drink?" asked a tall blonde guy standing next to me.
I looked down at the glass and then at the bar, where my drink sat, almost empty.
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry," I spluttered. "Let me buy you another one."
The guy looked at me strangely as he took his empty glass from my hand, and gazed into it, almost like he was checking if it was actually all gone. With a little sigh, he just shrugged his shoulders and smiled at me. "I'll have a G&T with lime, please handsome."
I ordered the drink and apologized again.
"I'm Riley," he said, holding out his hand, the back of it upturned towards me.
I took his hand awkwardly and shook it, watching as a disappointed look crossed Riley's face.
He sighed loudly again. "I think I should tell you. That glass you finished off had a little something extra in it."
It took a second for it to register in my alcohol-addled brain. "What was in it?"
Oh god,I thought. Had he roofie'd me? Was he going to take me home and do bad things to me?
"Just a little candy, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about," he replied.
"Candy?"
He rolled his eyes. "You know? Dancing shoes?"
"Huh?"
"MDMA?"
Was there a gay dude secret language? Needless to say, I was having trouble computing.
"You've lost me."
"Ecstasy," he said, throwing his hands up in the air.
My blood froze in my veins. "Ecstasy?"
He shrugged. Shrugged! Like it was no big deal that I had an illegal substance currently making its way into my bloodstream.
"Just have another drink and relax. You look like you need to loosen up a little."
"Oh my God! Am I going to be okay?" I almost squealed.
"Okay?" He laughed. Laughed! "You'll be more than okay. You'll be wonderful. You'll be sparkly!"
But I didn't want to be sparkly. I wanted to be Edward!
Freaking out, I ran straight into the men's bathroom, bypassing the urinals for the privacy of a stall.
As much as I wretched and heaved, I couldn't get a damn thing up. Damn my brilliant iron-stomach! Why couldn't I have the digestive tract of a teenager with an eating disorder?
With a sigh, I closed the lid of the toilet with my foot and sat on it, resting my head in my hands.
How had my night gotten so crazy? "Just one drink" they said. "Have one more",they said. Stupid pushy co-workers with their stupid pushy opinions.
Sitting in the stall, I started to realize how drunk I really was. Even as I sat on the lid of the toilet, I was swaying a little. But even in my drunken stupor, I realized I had two options.
One, get the hell out of the club and get home so that I could trip out in the comfort of my own closet, cowering in the corner under a blanket until it wore off. This seemed like a smart choice. Alice would be asleep and other than the guy at the bar, no one would be the wiser.
My second choice was to remain in the men's bathroom of the club, watching my fingers wiggle in front of my face.
I had HUGE hands. And man, my fingers were long. Like, super long.
Why do they call them fingers anyway? I asked myself. You never see them 'fing'.
Suddenly, everything was okay. Everything was going to be oooo-kay.
I stood up off the toilet, laughing to myself when it took me three goes to undo the latch on the door of the stall. Two nice looking men were making out against one of the sinks. They seemed pretty into each other, but I smiled at them anyway.
The cool water on my hands was refreshing, the way the water slipped over the backs of my hands and between my fingers was very soothing. Looking up into the mirror, I was surprised to see myself smiling a big goofy grin. Whatever I did, I just couldn't wipe it off my face! I didn't even realize that I'd been standing with my hands under the cold tap for ages until the nice blond guy came in and turned it off for me.
"Come on, Sparkles," he said, taking me by the hand. "Let's dance."
So I did. I danced like my feet were on fire. I pulled out all the stops and broke out some of my best dance moves; the dice, the sprinkler, the lawnmower and the running man. Even the cool guys I was dancing with thought I was a great dancer; they kept yelling and trying to slap me on the ass.
I was on fire!
No, literally, it was so hot in the club that I felt like I was on fire. Did they realize it was the middle of summer? Were gay men like Hot Pockets; best served warm? Whatever it was, it made me take off my tie and open a few buttons.
My stomach kept flip-flopping maniacally, almost like a nervous tension, but coupled with the erratic beating of my heart - it felt more like excitement, just intensified about a million times. It was like I'd ingested an entire greenhouse of butterflies. Of course, this thought had me rambling to some stranger about actual butterflies in my stomach. Would I have to eat a lizard to eat the butterflies? But then what ate lizards?
I was sure I was going to end up like the old lady who swallowed fly.
And as well as the increased body temperature and jittery feeling, it was like all of my inhibitions had just floated away - I was totally carefree!
The trouble with being carefree was that I wanted to talk to everyone - about nothing in particular. I just couldn't stop my mouth from moving. I even had a lengthy conversation with the bouncer about my promotion at work, but even though he didn't say anything, I could tell he was totally pumped for me.
Most of my other co-workers had left a few hours before, something about it being a work night. But I was the boss man now!
I wanted to dance like a boss!
"Oh my God, touch my face!" squealed a girlish voice behind me.
I turned to see a short brunette girl standing behind me, her eyes huge like dinner plates as they sparkled in the disco lights.
Reaching out slowly, I ran my fingertips across her cheek. She was right, her skin was soft!
My eyes popped open at the feel of it under my fingers. "Oh my God."
"I know, right?" she said, nodding enthusiastically. "How soft is my fucking skin?"
I stepped a little closer, running both of my hands over her cheeks. It was really, really soft. And when I poked it gently with my finger, it sprang back like elastic - no nasty injections in there.
"I liked your dancing," she said over the music, her eyes wide with excitement. She was a really happy person. In fact, a lot of people at the club were really excited, they all seemed to be really into the music and there was lots of kissing going on.
"Thanks. I like your skin," I replied, still running my fingers over her face.
Giggling, she took my hand and used it to spin herself under my arm like a ballerina. A slightly wobbly, and somewhat uncoordinated ballerina.
"I love this club!" she said with a laugh. I nodded in agreement. It was a mighty fine establishment, but I was still kind of hooked on her. So petite and ethereal, glowing in the bright lights.
"You know what's a funny word?" she asked, coming to a grinding halt, her fingers still intertwined with mine.
"What?" I asked, brushing the back of my fingers over her cheek again, letting them trail down the soft, smooth skin of her neck. I wanted to kiss her so much that my lips were tingling, like they were trying to urge me on.
I felt her throat constrict under my fingers as she swallowed.
"Uh...," her eyes rolled back a little and she smiled. "I forget."
My head swirled and my heart raced as she looked up at me. "You're so much prettier than I am," she gasped.
"No way," I argued, running my hands through her soft hair, like brown silk gliding between my fingers. "You're beautiful."
She suddenly looked a little perplexed, but still, she kept dancing. "Do you think I'm prettier than everyone else here?"
I looked around. I supposed the men would have been attractive. There seemed to be a lot of skin on display, lots of chiseled abs and ripped pecs. But even if I was gay, I still would have said she was the loveliest thing in the room.
"I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
She stopped dancing mid-step. "Would you lie on me?" she asked.
"Umm, sure, why not," I answered, not entirely sure what she meant.
Whatever I said seemed to be exactly what she wanted to hear. She grabbed me by the shirt and kissed me hard, making my knees go all wobbly like jelly.
It felt like the entire room was spinning around us, my head whirled and my heart raced. Just the taste of her on my lips, the pressure of her mouth against mine was absolute bliss. I had never experienced anything like it before.
I pulled away just long enough for her to move her lips across my jaw towards my ear. Gripping my shirt tightly, she lowered my ear to her mouth, the feeling of her hot breath fanning over my ear and down my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
"Take me back to your place."
So, as you can see, the story will switch between Edward and Bella's point of view.
That's it.
See you soon, and don't forget to leave me a review if the mood hits you.
xxx Wink
