A/N: Hi and welcome back! Thank you all for your support of this story. It's great to know you're all out there reading what my crazy mind concocts, lol. We made it through the parts of the story that have already been part of the contest entry. In this chapter, we'll finally meet Bella and learn her reasons for joining the show.
There wouldn't be much worth reading without the help of my wonderfully talented team. evelyn-shaye, Midnight Cougar and LaPumuckl, I love you ladies and feel honored to be able to do this with you. I also want to mention three other great ladies who helped me with their knowledge about New York City. 2oldf4fanfic, ceceprincess1217 and theresa zhao, thank you very much for taking the time to answer my questions and putting up with my quite particular ideas.
Now, let's see what Bella's been up to. See you at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Married at First Sight …
******TtK******
Chapter 3 – A Girl Can Dream
~Bella~
"What would you say are the reasons your past relationships failed?"
Dammit, this questionnaire has some stupid questions.
The truth was, most guys were idiots who were afraid of commitment, but I thought it would make me sound like a bitter hag if I actually wrote that down. In my case, past boyfriends either moved on to their next prey, couldn't handle my work hours — or that I had a job at all — or hated that I had a healthy amount of ambition on top. It intimidated them.
I'd come to New York after graduating from high school to study at a renowned culinary institute. I'd worked my way up from line chef, at a big restaurant, to sous chef at the same establishment, then became the chef of a small but prosperous Italian place. Sure, jobs in gastronomy weren't nine-to-five, but neither were nurse or flight attendant, yet men obviously favored those types of women. What was wrong with being a chef? And here my Granny Swan always told me the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. One of many lies or misconceptions, as it turned out.
I focused back on my laptop screen, staring at the blank space I needed to fill with my answer, when the door to my room suddenly flew open. A blur of russet and black barged in.
"Bells, I need your honest opinion and now!" Jacob, my gay best friend and roommate, exclaimed as he did a three-sixty turn in front of me. "This is what I was planning to wear on my date with Mike tonight. Now I'm not sure if my ass looks fat in these jeans."
I had to bite back my laughter at the totally insane thought. Jake worked as a trainer at a gym in Midtown and was nothing but muscle and sinew. I was hard-pressed to find one ounce of fat anywhere on him.
I'd known Jacob Black since we were in diapers. We'd gone through thick and thin together back in Forks, where neither of us ever felt like we fit in. He helped me through my awkward adolescence when my body resembled that of a gangly boy for far too long, and I was there for him, holding his hand, when he was finally ready to admit to himself and the world he liked boys much more than he did girls.
We were each other's dates to proms and kissed one another at New Year's, and when I decided to leave our hole-in-the-wall hometown, he didn't hesitate to pack his stuff and jump on my flight. We'd been living together ever since, but I had a feeling that, if things between him and his long-term boyfriend, Mike, got any more serious, I'd become more of a third wheel than I already was, and sooner or later, would have to move out. That was one of the reasons why I jumped at the opportunity offered by the TV show.
"Hey, earth to Bella! Are you with me? Would you please stop staring off into space and look at my ass now?" Jake whined, wiggling his backside at me. I giggled at his antics.
"Jake, you're hard as steel. There's not the least bit of fat on you. You look as hot as always. If I think about it, maybe I should make sure I'm not home when you return from your night out, otherwise I'm sure I'll get an earful of things I so don't want to hear ever again."
I made a mock-disgusted face as Jake plopped down next to me on my bed, wrapping me in his strong arms.
"Oh Bells, you always say the nicest things. And for that, I promise I'll try to keep it down." He winked at me, then let his eyes roam over the bed, landing on my laptop before I had a chance to shut it.
Regardless, I reached over and started to fold it closed when his large hand covered mine and stopped me.
"What's this, Bella?" he asked, obviously curious about what he was seeing. "You're not signing up for another dating site, are you? Haven't you gone on enough blind dates with Prince Charmings who turned into frogs right in front of your eyes?" His expression was an interesting mixture of sympathy and amusement, considering he'd been privy to the aftermath of too many disastrous first dates with guys I met on dating platforms — or otherwise.
I bit my lip, unsure of his reaction if I told him the truth, but I didn't want to lie to him, either. I had close girlfriends, too, but no one knew me as well as Jacob did — and no one was as protective of me.
"It's not a dating site," I said, still searching for the right words to explain.
Jake's brows furrowed. "Then, what is this? It sure looks like one of those. But, hey, what kind of a weird question is this?" He pointed to the one I'd been pondering the answer to for the past half hour.
I took a deep breath as I started to confess. "Jake, you remember that ad for a TV show you made fun of a few weeks back?"
He nodded slowly, obviously not understanding what I was getting at.
"I might have sent in an application." Again, I caught my lip between my teeth, my nerves getting the better of me.
Understanding dawned on his face. "So you're going to be the next Bachelorette, or what?"
"Not really." My hands were wringing in my lap as I worked up the courage to tell him what I was getting myself into. In a rush of released air, I mumbled, "I'm going to get married."
"You're going to do WHAT?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
I knew it would be a hard sell to convince him of my plan. I totally agreed that the idea sounded crazy at first, but the psychologist explaining the concept made very valid points as to why it all made sense.
"I'm going to answer this set of about a hundred questions. If they like my answers, I'll have to do interviews with four experts who will try to pair me up with the perfect match … and that man I'll meet at the altar for the first time."
I glimpsed up at Jake's red face. His fiery eyes were boring into mine in shock. "That's just … insane," he stated, gaping at me.
"That's what I thought, too. But let me explain, okay?" He looked ready to pounce and have me admitted to a mental hospital for losing my mind, but my pleading eyes made him nod reluctantly. "There's this study or something that says that arranged marriages last longer than most traditional dating relationships. It has something to do with the level of commitment; as if you're willing to put in a great deal more effort because it's less complicated to walk away from a relationship than ending a marriage."
Looking at him expectantly, I waited for his response. He huffed a few times, glancing back and forth between my face and my hands.
"In a weird way, that somehow makes sense. But, Bells, why would you do that? It sounds like something someone desperate would consider." He took my hands in his, lightly stroking the backs with his thumbs. "You're the most beautiful woman I know. You're sweet, loving and strong and funny as fuck. You could have any guy you want. Why would you allow a bunch of strangers to decide who you're getting married to?"
His compliments were nice, but they would've meant a lot more if he were actually into women.
"Jake, I am desperate. I can't even remember the last time I had more than two dates with the same guy. Hell, I can't remember my last orgasm that wasn't self-induced. I want what you and Mike have. If this is the chance to get it, then I'm in. And, if it doesn't work, they've made it simple enough to get out of it."
He was obviously torn between feeling sorry for flaunting his happy relationship in front of me every day and wanting to still talk me out of my plan.
"You're only twenty-six. It's not like your biological clock is ticking or something. Why are you in such a hurry?" His question sounded pleading, and I got it. I couldn't say how I'd have reacted if the tables were turned, but I was convinced I was doing the right thing.
"Maybe my clock isn't ticking yet, but I'm lonely and done dating weirdos and idiots. I want something real." Most of my girlfriends were completely fine with being single and taking advantage of being young and free, but I was done playing the dating game.
"I don't want you married to some asshole," he threw in after a long, contemplative pause. "What if you don't like the guy?"
I smiled at him, remembering what that Dr. Cullen had told us. "No one can give any guarantees that it'll work out. But they don't get people married for shits and giggles. They'll only go through with it if they're sure the marriage has a chance to last past the six weeks of the show. They came up with this system to match up people, and I trust them. I think it's worth the try. If worse comes to worst, I'll have a starter marriage in my CV."
Jake huffed a few times, while gazing down at our joined hands, before he looked up at me. "You really want this, huh?"
A brilliant smile broke out on my face at the realization that my best friend in the world would have my back in this asinine endeavor.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cheered as I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close.
"Oh, Bells, you know I'll always be there for you, even if this is the dumbest thing you've ever come up with. I really do hope it'll work out for you."
We stayed in our embrace until the sound of the front door opening and closing again made us pull apart.
"Now go and kiss your boyfriend hello. I have to get these questions answered so I can score myself a husband."
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"Hello, Isabella," Dr. Cullen greeted me, but I corrected him before he could continue.
"It's Bella, please."
He smiled benignly, insisting I call him Carlisle, then he began the actual interview.
"So, Bella, why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about yourself?"
I tried to ignore the two cameras in the room and dove into an introduction. "Well, I'm Bella — obviously." I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. "I'm twenty-six and from a small town in the Pacific Northwest. I'm a chef and hope to — someday — have my own restaurant."
I exhaled slowly, calming down a bit, now that I realized this interview thing wasn't too bad.
"What made you move all the way across the country to New York, then?" Carlisle inquired after taking some notes.
"Small town life was never for me." I shrugged. "I've always loved cooking. I spent hours and hours in the kitchen with my stepmother, cooking everything from Native American recipes to French haute cuisine. From the moment I knew I wanted to be a chef, I'd set my eye on the Big Apple, considering it has the best culinary schools in the country. The day I got my acceptance letter was the best day of my life."
I waited for Carlisle to finish writing something down. "And you stayed after graduating."
"I did. From the first day, I totally fell in love with the city. The people, the energy, and last but not least, the culinary scene don't compare to any other place in the US." I knew it was cliché, but I couldn't stop gushing about my adopted city.
Dr. Cullen looked something up in his folder, then smiled at me again. "So you'd want to stay in the city and raise a family here?"
I loved living in Manhattan but was aware it wasn't the best place to live with small children. "I'd stay in New York, but I think a house in Brooklyn or Queens is more fitting for a family than an apartment in Manhattan."
Carlisle nodded a few times, then changed the subject. "What made you decide to take a chance on our experiment?"
Okay, here goes nothing. "I haven't had much luck dating. I had a few relationships, but they never worked out in the long run. I've dated a lot casually, but very few attempts ever extended past second date stage. To me, it feels like most men are afraid of commitment. Now, that shouldn't be a problem here, right?" I laughed and Carlisle chuckled in response.
"It'd better not." He leafed through what I was sure was my printed-out questionnaire. "So, you're saying commitment issues are the reason your past relationships failed, seeing the reply you gave earlier was a bit cryptic."
"I'd say it's a mixture of commitment issues, my sometimes crazy work hours and the general problem men have with a woman who loves her job and is committed to it."
"I guess that means we should look out for a man with a healthy dose of self-esteem who doesn't go to bed at ten, then," Carlisle replied with a smirk.
****TtK****
After the interview with the psychologist, I felt pretty confident. Unfortunately, said confidence waned when I realized that, next up, I'd have to talk about my sex life.
"We'd best start with you telling me a few general facts about your sexual history." Irina Denali launched right into the interrogation as soon as the greetings were taking care of.
Knowing what the topic of this interview would be, I was certainly more aware of the cameras and people in the room than I was during my talk with Carlisle. Obviously sensing my apprehension to be forthcoming, Irina assured me nothing overly personal or incriminating I said in our session would make it into the final cut of the show. That knowledge at least made it a bit easier to open up.
"I've never been quick to jump into anything. My first kiss was at age fifteen. Since I'm from a small town and there weren't any boys around I was interested in, it took me until freshman year of college to go past second base with a guy. I've been in a few relationships, but not too many, and I'm not into casual sex. Been there, tried that. I need a connection to a man to really open up and enjoy intimacy." I exhaled audibly after getting that off my chest.
Irina smiled widely at me. "You seem to know what you want and don't bend to pressure or disappointment. That's great. Now, would you describe yourself as rather active or passive in terms of sexual encounters?"
I pondered that for a moment, trying to give the truest answer I could. "I like a guy to work for it, but I'm not too shy to tell him what makes me feel good. And I enjoy a man taking charge once in a while." I hoped to have gotten across that I didn't want some pushover or wimp in the bedroom.
****TtK****
Considering I wasn't too religious, the looming interview with Peter Nichols made me a bit uncomfortable, as if I were about to be quizzed without having studied the subject. It helped that the spiritual advisor greeted me with a wide smile and a warm hand shake.
"First of all, I want you to understand that there are no wrong answers," he began, taking away most of my unease. "No one's judging. We simply need to know about your religious background and beliefs to find you a husband with similar preferences. With that being said, you answered the question about your religious denomination; writing you were baptized Lutheran. I take it you're not actively participating in the Lutheran church."
His encouraging smile made me swallow my uncertainty and answer the question. "No, I'm not. My father's family is Lutheran, and my parents got married in church. So it was a given I would be baptized. When I was little, my dad took me to services on Christmas and sometimes on Easter, but that was a long time ago. I don't think he's a practicing Lutheran anymore. My mom, on the other hand, has gone through every faith and belief imaginable. After the divorce, it seemed she had to find herself. She was close to actually converting to Judaism when she met my stepfather and lost some of her flakiness. So, it seems as though I'm a bit of everything and nothing all at once." I grinned, remembering how funny, but at the same time tiring, it was to follow Renée around on her journey to self-discovery.
"That sounds like your childhood was anything but boring," Peter mused, forming his next question. "Do you think it would be a problem for you if your partner were actively practicing whatever it is he believes in?"
That had me thinking for a minute. As much as I wanted to say it wouldn't matter to me, it wouldn't be true. "Well, it's not that I'm not open-minded or anything, but I think if my husband were very religious, it probably wouldn't work out. I could live with accompanying him to his church or temple or whatever of choice every once in a while, and I could see my children being baptized, circumcised or initiated into whatever religion because it's their father's tradition, but I don't think a really religious person can be happy with someone who doesn't share his beliefs. Don't get me wrong, I do believe in a God, but I don't care if it's a he or she or if He's called Allah, Jehovah or Buddha. I pray to a higher power if I feel the need to, but I can't fully identify with a church. Does that make any sense?" I asked with a furrowed brow.
Nichols chuckled with amusement. "Oh Bella, it not only makes sense, but you answered most of my questions in one go."
Oh, hey, maybe this wasn't so bad after all.
****TtK****
Last but not least, I nervously awaited Dr. Platt's arrival at our apartment. I'd been a little surprised to hear she'd come here, but I had nothing to hide, and Jake was anxious to finally meet at least one of the cupids who were "marrying me off," as he liked to call it. Naturally, he was the one greeting the attractive thirty-something sociologist at the door when the bell rang.
"Hello, Dr. Platt. It's nice to meet you. I'm Jacob, Bella's roommate," he greeted her. His voice adopted the same flirtatious tone he used with all females — regardless of age or marital status —and which made them swoon. It threw most people off to his real sexual orientation.
"Esme, please," she answered with an equally friendly smile. She let her gaze wander past Jake and found me standing in the middle of the living room. "Bella, you have to tell me why you're having us find you a husband when you have such a fine specimen of a man right here in your home."
I giggled, knowing she'd stepped into the same trap as most women. "Because, unfortunately, that fine specimen is batting for the other team."
Right on cue, Mike came barreling out of their joined bedroom. "Jake, baby, we gotta go. We're late for our reservation …" He trailed off when he noticed the camera crew standing just inside the front door. His mouth twitched self-consciously as he came to a halt next to his boyfriend.
Jacob slung his arm around Mike's waist, pulling him close. "Esme, this is my other half, Mike. We'd love to stay and protect our sweet little Bella from the big bad experts, but as you heard, we have to be somewhere. It was nice meeting you." He turned to me, waving goodbye. "Bells, we'll talk later. Bye."
With that, he hustled a still-stunned Mike through the door and out into the hall.
"Seems like it never gets dull around here." Esme chuckled as she took the seat I offered her on the couch.
I poured her a glass of water before answering, "Rarely so."
"Tell me," Esme started the interview right after taking a sip, "how come you're living with a gay couple?"
Crossing my legs, I leaned back. "I've known Jacob all my life. We're both from the same podunk town in Washington where our fathers have been best friends since kindergarten. We've always been inseparable whenever I was with my dad. Jacob is the brother I never had. No one knows me the way he does. When I decided to apply for culinary school in New York, he also sent applications to colleges out here. We've been living together ever since. Mike has been a later addition to the mix, but it works fine, only that I very much envy what they have." The last words were spoken quietly and reverently.
"So, you grew up in a small town?" Esme asked for clarification.
"Yes, mostly. My parents got divorced when I was four, but they've stayed close friends until this day. My mom moved around a bit, and for a while, I followed her, but at some point, living with my dad just made more sense because it meant a steadier life for me. Both of them got married again. My dad has been with his second wife for fifteen years and my mom's been remarried for ten." Although I came from what many people would call a broken home, I still had great role models for committed and loving relationships."
Esme scribbled something on her paper. "Is your mother living in Washington, too?"
"No," I replied. "Every one of her moves took her farther away from the Pacific Northwest. We were living in Phoenix when I decided to move in with my dad permanently, and now she and her husband, Phil, live in Florida."
Nodding, Esme took a sip from her glass. "Do you get along with your stepparents?"
I didn't even have to think about that. "I love all four of my parents, step or biological. They're matched up perfectly now."
"Just so I get a better picture, what do your parents do for a living?"
"My dad's Chief of Police and his wife is a preschool teacher. My mom has a degree in Arts from community college, but has worked as everything and nothing, and my stepdad is a coach for a minor league baseball team."
Again, Esme took notes of everything I'd said, then took a long look around the room, pausing on the large set of shelves across from her. "Are those books yours or the guys'?"
"They're mine. I love reading in my spare time. But I also like to watch movies." I pointed to my right at several shelf boards stacked with DVDs. "Half of that collection is mine. Many of the chick flicks are Mike's, though." I laughed, remembering Jake's reaction when Mike's collection moved in.
Although a lot of things had changed around here since we became three instead of two, Mike was the best thing that ever happened to Jake. They were perfect for each other.
And while the odds were totally stacked against me, I was hoping the group of experts I'd talked to over the past week would find me that kind ofperfect match.
A girl can dream, right?
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A/N: So, how do you like our Bella? She's a woman who knows what she wants. Now, will this work well with our cocky Edward or are they bound to clash at the first opportunity?
We're going to stay with Bella for a bit longer. Here's a preview for chapter 4:
… "Jake, you're my best friend, and no one knows me the way you do. Will you walk me down the aisle?" …
Why won't Charlie be giving her away? Or Phil? Any ideas? Tell me here or on Facebook in my group Payton79's Fanfiction.
See you in two weeks.
