Thanks to SusanQ, Nicffwhisperer, Vampshavelaws, Iambeagle, and Stephanie for all of their help pre-reading/betaing for me. Also, a big thank you to Ange de L'aube for the awesome banner. I'm always tinkering until right before posting and any mistakes are mine.


The Talk

After leaving the White House, I returned with my parents to the townhome they kept in D.C. Conversation was sparse during the drive—and as we got settled for the night—giving me time to think over the events of the evening. I'd rather have fled immediately back to New York, but it made more sense to stay, since I was supposed to accompany them for the kickoff of my father's campaign in two days.

Besides, it was past time for me to have an honest discussion with my parents about the future they envisioned for me. And why it wasn't necessarily the best option.

The timing may not have been ideal, considering my father was about to embark on the most important venture of his life, but I was running out of time. It had to be now, before I really did have James' ring on my finger.

Plus, seeing Edward again had given me the spark I needed to open my mouth and finally tell them the truth.

He had gone out of his way to seek me out. Actually, not only to seek me out, but also to find me on my turf... or at least my father's turf.

It had to mean he wanted more than just a wham, bam, thank you ma'am.

Right?

He could have just called me and tried to set up a secret meeting if all he had wanted was sex.

Instead, he'd been creative. He'd somehow found out where I'd be and made his interest in me quite apparent with his unexpected appearance. In my eyes, he was all the more intriguing, and his willingness to go to these lengths had me wanting to return the sentiment.

I did want to see him again. All I had to do was figure out a way for that to happen.

I spent about an hour talking with Rose on the phone, relaying the evening's events and steeling my nerves for the revelations I would lay on my parents at breakfast. She'd sounded so excited and proud that I was considering this discussion; it made me all the more resolved this was the right decision.

I felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, I awoke early, showering and dressing in a simple sundress. It wasn't as casual as I'd have preferred, but I knew my mother would be unhappy if I wore a t-shirt and shorts, and I didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. Even though the heat of summer streamed in through the windows with the morning light, I put on a light cardigan to hide the bruises on my arm left from James' hand the night before.

He'd made a serious mistake putting a mark on me, and I'd use this evidence to help my case if necessary.

I made my way downstairs, and plucked out the entertainment section of the paper set out for my father. My breath caught when I saw a picture of Edward from last night.

He was so beautiful, even in the grainy black and white photo.

I supposed I was lucky the picture wasn't featuring me dancing in his arms, but I was also a little sad. I scoured through the captions and articles, looking for any gossip linking us together.

"Isabella, sit up straight." My mother's sharp words cut into the peaceful morning silence as she walked in the room.

I quickly set aside the paper and lifted my head and shoulders, correcting my posture. My body was well-trained to immediately obey her demands.

"You're picking up too many bad habits living with that girl," she spat, not even trying to hide her disdain for my roommate.

There was no love lost between my mother and Rose, and neither was shy about letting me know their feelings. My mother thought Rose was white trash and a bad influence, while Rose thought my mother was the spawn of Satan wrapped in Chanel.

I tended to lean toward Rose's side.

I sighed. "Rose is my best friend."

This wasn't starting at all like I wanted. Mother made some small snort of disapproval before sitting down across from me at the table, and I took a moment to look her over.

She was beautiful. Always had been. Her skin soft and pampered, her light brunette hair shiny, and her figure petite. But she maintained it with vigorous and religiously followed routines for everything. Food, exercise, skin and makeup regimens. Every single minute of her day was tightly scheduled to keep up with appearances. She was almost military-like in her precision and had tried to drill the importance of it all into my head.

It never really took.

If I had any free time, I'd much rather spend it reading a good book, talking with Rose, listening to music, or any of another thousand different things before inspecting my pores with a magnifying mirror.

But that was just me.

Helen walked in, setting fresh fruit and tea out for us, and sending me a wink. She was my parents' personal housekeeper and the only "servant" who traveled everywhere with them. But she was much more than just a maid or housekeeper. She was like a grandmother to me, practically raising me herself, when I hadn't been in boarding schools as a child, and she was the only person I knew who engendered genuine warmth from my mother.

I was pretty sure Helen was my mother's only true friend in the world.

"Thank you, Helen," my mother said, fiddling with her tea. Her judgmental eyes were back on me after Helen disappeared into the kitchen. "It seems we need to have another discussion after that ugly scene last night."

I forced myself to maintain eye contact instead of cowering and dropping my gaze to my lap, but my hands shook as I clasped them together under the table. Instead of the strong, determined woman I'd felt like when I came downstairs, every second under her scrutiny had me inching closer to the indecisive, unsure doormat of a girl I usually was.

I was beginning to hate the doormat girl.

"I... I... can explain..."

My halted speech was interrupted when my father walked in. He patted my shoulder and took his seat at the head of the table.

"Good morning, girls," he said, putting his napkin over his freshly pressed slacks and thanking Helen when she placed his coffee in front of him.

Nobody said another word until Helen was gone again, my father raising his eyebrow at the two of us.

"We were just discussing the nasty display from last night," Mother said.

Be strong. Be strong. Be strong.

"Edward is my friend. There was nothing salacious about it." My voice shook, and I took a deep breath.

"Quit being so naive. You two were making a scene, and everyone in there was talking about it." Mother pushed her grapefruit to the side. "This isn't some romance novel, Isabella. There were a lot of people there last night who would love nothing more than to gather and use any little morsel of unseemliness against your father. You were attending with James—your fiancé—and you had every tongue in the room wagging with your little dance with that seedy actor."

My heart pounded and my face flushed from anger. "James isn't my fiancé. And Edward isn't seedy. He's nice and he's interesting, and I actually have fun being around him."

Mother started to speak again, but my father put his hand up to stop her.

"How well do you know this Edward?" he asked me.

Yikes.

"Well, I haven't known him long. But that doesn't make me like him any less. I want to get to know him better."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "What if he's just using you to grab more headlines? He seems to love the spotlight."

"He doesn't need me for any headlines." It was ridiculous to suggest. Everyone in the world already knew his face.

"I had Alec look into him." He pursed his lips, his eyes stern. "Not only has he given money to the opposition party, but he has had some legal issues in the past and is notorious for bed-hopping. I don't understand why you would want to be a part of that."

I bit my lip, forbidding the tears that wanted to fall. He may have been right. I could have been doing all this for nothing. Edward might just want to screw me and walk, like the tabloids claimed was his modus operandi. Perhaps I should have investigated him more thoroughly before I put myself out on a limb like this.

But then again, maybe this desire for something different had less to do with Edward and more to do with me. He might have been a catalyst and the final push, but it was me who wanted to change. I wanted to live my own way and not the way they'd planned for me.

I met my father's eyes again. "I'm not trying to be a notch on his bedpost, and you know better than anyone that rumors about character are not always true. He's been nothing but kind and sweet to me, and he shouldn't be punished because of gossip."

He fell silent, but my mother was seething.

"Every time you are seen with him is more ammunition against your father! How could you be so selfish?"

My mouth fell open as I stared at her angry face. I was being selfish?

"Renee. Stop," my father said.

She turned her glare toward him. "Are you considering letting her continue to see this trash? Are you crazy?"

"At least she's coming to us and talking about it, instead of just doing it anyway. At least this way we can be prepared for any backlash." He pointed in my direction. "I don't feel right telling her who she can and cannot see. She's twenty-two, not five."

My father was actually sticking up for me. I wouldn't have believed it if it wasn't happening right in front of my eyes. He usually went along with whatever my mother thought.

And my mother always thought I was wrong.

It seemed she was even more shocked than I was.

She shook her head, fuming. "What? What does this even mean?" Her eyes blazed at me. "You want to go whoring around? What about James? What about the wedding?"

"She's right about that," my father said. "I don't want to tell you that you can't be friends with Edward, but it does make it awkward in regards to your relationship with James. I don't need to remind you his parents are some of my biggest contributors and that James is planning to follow in my footsteps."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, turning completely toward my father instead of both of them. At least he was listening to me.

It was time to drop the bomb.

"I don't want to marry James. I didn't want to marry him even before I met Edward."

My mother gasped and my father's face paled significantly.

"What? How?" my mother sputtered.

Father was a bit calmer. "What happened? I thought you two were happy. Why haven't you said something before now?"

I wrung my hands. "I didn't want to disappoint you. I've never loved James, but you both were so set on us being together. I didn't want to make you angry."

Mother stood up. "This is ridiculous." She walked over to put her hands on my father's shoulders. "It's just cold feet. Everything will be fine."

I shook my head. "No. I don't want to marry him. I won't marry him."

Rose would have been so proud of me. I told them exactly how I felt, and I didn't back down.

This was the moment my mother decided to resort to theatrics. She burst into tears, making my father stand to comfort her. He was always uncomfortable with emotional outbursts, but he would do anything for her.

She was bawling against his chest, telling him how I was going to ruin everything and I wasn't thinking rationally. I almost started to regret my behavior as I watched her carry on. It was amazing the way she could make me feel like the worst person in the world.

Eventually she calmed down enough to turn toward me, her eyes red and her face streaked with tears.

"I want you to think long and hard about what you're doing. You'll never forgive yourself if you ruin your father's chances in this campaign."

With that, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. I caught a glimpse of Helen following after her.

My father sat back down with a heavy sigh. The guilt and tension was thick and my heart hurt.

Was I really going to ruin him?

"I'm sorry," I said.

He was silent for a minute, his gaze set on a spot on the table. "I can't deny I'm disappointed."

Now I wanted to cry like my mother had.

"Are you sure about this?" he continued, glancing up at me. "It isn't cold feet?"

I shook my head.

"You never said a word. Nothing. You've been with him for years." He sighed again. "I take it he doesn't know this yet either?"

"No," I said, my voice almost a whisper. "I'll tell him soon."

He let out a short laugh. "I hope sometime before he announces your engagement."

A spurt of hope bloomed inside me at the sound of his laugh. Was he giving me his blessing for the non-wedding?

"I was hoping you'd tell him not to be there for your announcement. I mean, it would be awkward if he was there," I said. "I'll make a stop in Boston afterward and talk to him."

He slowly nodded, his eyes full of questions. "Is this all because of Edward?"

"Not really. I mean... he was kind of the final push to make me realize how unhappy I was at the prospect of a future with James. But I've felt this way for a long time." I reached out and took his hand. "I don't mean to be a problem. I really don't. I'll be with you every step of the way during the campaign. I promise."

He smiled. "I know you will. You've always been an angel. I know your mother is hard on you sometimes, but she does mean well."

Yeah, right.

I kept my thoughts to myself. "Also, I know you're worried about the attention my being friends with Edward could cause. But there may be a bright side."

He snorted. "What's that?"

"Well, if he and I were to become closer, it could bring you a whole new demographic."

I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was first and foremost a politician. And I knew he was thinking about a whole generation of twenty-somethings—who adored Edward—tossing their democratic tendencies to the side and leaning my father's way if he had Edward's support.

I would never use Edward like that, but I wasn't going to say that now. Not with everything so raw at the moment.

He let out another chuckle and shook his head. "I can't court Hollywood, Bells. Sure, it would make the left go crazy, but I'd lose my base. It's a tempting thought, though."

"Hey, the base can't say anything if it's Hollywood coming to you."

We both tried to fight it, but we burst out into simultaneous laughter. Mixing sexy, liberal Hollywood with the conservative right? It was pretty hilarious to think about.

He squeezed my hand. "Just be smart, okay? I trust you, and I know you'd never do anything on purpose to hurt me. But I really have no idea how this is going to play out. I'll need to talk to Alec and my other advisors. I hate that your personal life is something I need to weigh in terms of consequences to my campaign, but it's just the reality of the situation. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah, I understand. And I promise I won't become Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan."

He looked confused. "Should I know who those people are?"

I shook my head and laughed. "No. I just meant I'll be discreet and modest, as I always am." I swallowed again, emotions rising up. "I want to thank you for letting me talk to you like this. I was scared to bring it up."

He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable again with the emotional turn of the conversation. "I've... we've... always wanted what's best for you. I know I've probably made a lot of mistakes, but in the end, I do want you to be happy."

And that might have been the best thing he'd ever said to me, even if I knew he was foolish trying to include my mother in that statement.

I let go of his hand, shifting my fruit around on my plate. "So you'll tell James not to be there tomorrow?"

I really didn't want him to be present in my father's hometown. It would seem like he was too much a part of the family.

"If you want me to. I guess I'm going to have to look for support to make up for the absence of the Hearsts."

Another pang of guilt hit me. It was difficult knowing I was going to be the reason for some strife in the early campaign.

"Maybe they'll still back you. I mean, if I wasn't happy with James, he probably wasn't happy with me either. Maybe he'll be relieved."

I didn't believe a word coming out of my mouth, and my father didn't either.

He gave me a long look. "You're absolutely sure you want to break things off completely with him. That's a big decision."

"Yeah, I'm sure." My stomach twisted, but I took off my sweater and held out my arm so he could see.

His eyes bulged, handling my arm gently, and taking a closer look. "What is this? What happened?"

The bruises were almost in the perfect shape of a hand, purple imprints where James' fingers had been.

"James did that last night."

"That little bastard," he muttered. His eyes bounced up to mine immediately. "Excuse my language."

I waved it off. I'd heard a lot worse. I'd said a lot worse.

He let go of my arm and pulled out his phone. "Has he done anything like this before?"

I shook my head.

He nodded, but his face was as red as a tomato, and I imagined steam coming out of his ears. "I need to make some calls. You finish your breakfast and I'll talk to you later."

He walked out toward his office, leaving me alone at the table. It had been chaotic, and I had no idea how my mother was going to react in the long term, but I felt a thousand pounds lighter.

I'd done it. I'd really done it.

I'd talked honestly to my parents and the world didn't crash around me.

Maybe I could grab some happiness for myself after all.

~~~*~~~CMC~~~*~~~

"Call him."

I laughed at Rose. She'd been ecstatic when I'd phoned later in the day to relay the success of my breakfast conversation, and now she was full steam ahead on Mission: Get Edward.

"You really think I should?" I asked, my stomach fluttering with nervous butterflies.

"Yes! He came to you last night, so now it's your turn. Also, you should see the flowers that arrived for you this morning."

"What? Flowers?"

There were only two possibilities of who could have sent them to me. And since James had no interest in romance, that left only one.

Had Edward really sent me flowers?

I reminded myself to breathe while Rose giggled and told me to hold on. A few seconds later a picture came through of a gorgeous arrangement of orchids and lilies.

"Is there a card?" I asked.

"Yes, it's addressed to you, but I haven't opened it. Do you want me to?"

"Yes, tell me what it says!"

I ran over and closed my bedroom door after realizing I was practically screaming. The last thing I wanted was for my mother to pop in, wondering why I was being so loud. I hoped I could avoid seeing her again today altogether.

Rose cleared her throat. "Okay, it says... Bella, Thank you for the dance. I'm only sorry it was interrupted. Until next time, Johnny Castle."

I managed to explain to Rose the meaning behind his using the name of a Dirty Dancing character, even though it was hard to get it all out through my giggles.

"You really have to call him, Bella."

She was right. I did.

I'd been strong all day. I could do this too.

But I was a nervous wreck. Calling a superstar I may or may not have been crushing on was not something I did every day. Or ever.

After ending the call with Rose, following promises I'd tell her every juicy detail, I scrolled down my contact list until I found his number. I stared at it for a full five minutes before working up the courage to actually press it.

I held my breath when it rang.

Once.

Twice.

Oh, God. It was going to go to voicemail, and I was going to have to leave a message. It would likely be the worst voice message in the history of messages. And he would laugh. He would erase me from his memory instantly.

Three times.

I cringed, sweating with nerves, trying to think of anything remotely interesting I could say aside from hello. I was the lamest person in the world.

Maybe I should just hang up before I embarrass myself completely?

"Hello? Bella?"

I almost fell out of my chair at the sound of his voice. It was him. He answered.

My head started spinning, and I realized I needed to start breathing before I passed out. I gulped down oxygen and gripped the chair so I didn't fall over.

"Bella? Are you there?"

I almost dropped the phone. "Yeah... um... it's Bella. Or, it's me. Yeah. Sorry. I thought I saw a cat."

I smacked my head.

What the hell was I saying? A cat?

He chuckled. "You saw a cat?"

I took another deep breath. "Yeah. It was a nice cat."

Could I be a bigger moron?

He only let out another smooth laugh, before I heard someone else's voice talking to him. There were more mumbled words, like he was covering his phone.

I'd obviously interrupted him.

He was probably out on a date with another girl he'd picked up last night after I'd left him high and dry.

Probably a Democrat. With blonde hair and big boobs.

"Sorry. You sound busy. I'll let you go," I blurted out.

"No, no, no," he answered. "Don't you dare hang up. That was just Jane. One of my managers. She says hi."

"Oh. Um, hi."

I heard a door closing, and all the background noise fading away.

"There," he said. "All alone now. I've been waiting for you to call me."

"You have?" It was hard to imagine a world where Edward Cullen was waiting for a call from me.

"Yes. I told you that last night. I knew you'd call me."

And there was the arrogance. It made me lust after him and made me want to slap him.

"How do you fit that large head through doorways?"

He laughed again. "I have them specially designed just for me. So, Baby, did you get your flowers?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Johnny. Well, kind of. I'm still with my parents in D.C., but Rose sent me a picture. They're beautiful. Thank you."

"You're very welcome." He paused, his voice softening. "Are you okay? It was great to see you last night, but I was worried that I might have put you in bad situation. I wasn't thinking much past dancing with you, but your parents and D.W. looked pretty upset. I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble."

The genuine concern in his voice made my insides melt.

"Actually, everything is good. Great, really. I... I actually had a long overdue conversation with my parents, and I think maybe a lot of things are looking up."

"So this isn't a call to tell me to back the fuck off?"

I bit my lip, my cheeks heating. "No. Not at all."

"Good. Because I wasn't going to anyway."

I had to stop and catch my breath again. He sounded so determined.

"I swear though," he continued. "I was about to kill that fucker for hurting you last night."

My heart stuttered. His anger at James was all kinds of sexy.

"I told my parents I wasn't going to marry him." The words came out of me in a rush.

He was silent, and I wondered if he'd heard me. I was about to explain further when he spoke again.

"You're not getting engaged to him?"

"No."

"Well, fuck me." He let out a whoop. "Dickless Wonder has been kicked to the curb. That's some excellent news. You should have led off with that one."

My worry that Edward was only interested because of the chase was somewhat subdued by his response. He sounded happy at the prospect of me being single and available. I was also chuckling at learning the meaning behind D.W.

"Are you still in D.C.?" I asked.

He sighed. "No, I'm in L.A. I had to fly back this morning for a few reshoots." There was some shuffling of papers. "I do have a little bit of time off in a few days. Would you be available if I happened to find myself in New York?"

You couldn't have wiped the smile from my face. He wanted to see me.

In just a few days.

I was giddy and forced myself to contain the squeal that wanted to come out.

"I'm going with my parents to Connecticut for my father's announcement tomorrow and then I have to stop in Boston. But, yes, I'd love to see you again after that."

"It's a date then, Miss Swan."

A date. A date with Edward Cullen.

"Damn. They're calling me back in. I'm sorry I have to go, but I'll be calling you later," he added. "I like hearing your voice, even if it is over the phone."

Did he take classes on how to be charming?

"Okay," I said. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Very soon. Bye, Bella."

"Bye."

I felt like I was floating. Was this what infatuation felt like? This excitement. The thrill of possibilities.

It was something I'd never experienced before, and I couldn't wait to see what happened next.

~~~*~~~CMC~~~*~~~

The next day, I emerged from the limo with my parents, greeting family friends and supporters as we made our way to the dais. We were in my father's hometown of New Haven, Connecticut. The setting was festive: balloons, banners, and flags, all in the requisite patriotic red, white, and blue. Even the weather was cooperating, the sun shining down brightly, as if full of promise.

I was all smiles, my buoyant mood mostly due to the second phone call with Edward I'd had in bed the night before. We'd talked for hours, mostly easy topics of likes and dislikes, covering a range of subjects from literature to colors. But we kept chatting away—neither of us seeming to want to let the other go—until I was too tired to keep my eyes open a second longer.

The only blight on this perfect day was my mother. I should have been happy she was not speaking to me—it meant no lectures or reprimands—but her silence only emphasized her displeasure and made me feel guilty.

I tried to shake it off, playing my part as the dutiful daughter, even when she held me close with fake affection to keep up appearances for all the others.

We finally made it to the stage, where my father was being introduced and would give his speech. As I climbed the last stair, a foreign hand took my elbow, keeping me steady.

My blood chilled when I glanced up into the familiar ice-blue eyes.

James.


AN: Bella stands up for herself… finally. Do you think Renee will ever come around? Do you think James is going to go away quietly?

Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, and letting me know your thoughts. I read and enjoy every single one.

If you are in the mood for a holiday fic, you can find a short and complete E and B romance story under my profile: Twelve Days of Christmas. I wrote it last year and am hoping to post a futuretake for those characters this season.

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