We're actually on time. I should get a medal.

Thank you all for your reviews from last time, and for putting up with this Bella and her shenanigans!

Happy early birthday to Pinkaquaclouds- thanks for all the help, babes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 4- That Went Well

I sigh in contentment and roll over in bed, throwing my arms out and making stupid noises as I stretch. My whole body feels refreshed and my muscles are washed over with that amazing feeling of relaxation.

It's called getting a good night's sleep.

It's Sunday, and all the workers have the day off. Sundays are usually when the royal family goes somewhere; it's another tradition. The manor is practically empty on Sundays, with the exception of security and the servants who don't actually have anywhere to go.

Sleep deprivation usually puts me in a bitchy mood, so it is with a smile that I crawl out of bed.

Yeah, I fucking love Sundays.

I glance at the clock and see that I have slept til noon. I'm not surprised. The night before, we had been working in the Garfield all day.

Alice's bed is made and I take my time in the shower and getting dressed. I am glad that I get to wear some jeans; I want to burn those annoying black slacks.

As I rub my favorite strawberry shampoo into my hair (I have gotten used to the creepy head-shaped shower head), I find my thoughts drifting to Prince Edward.

I'm not gonna lie; he invades my thoughts on a daily basis.

It has only been a few days since the whole stay-away-from-my-shit incident, and once the horror wore off I was filled with some irritating kind of fascination.

I told Alice what had happened and she couldn't remember a drawer with a padlock, even though she had cleaned in the prince's room countless times. We decided it was best that I didn't try and figure out what was in there and came to the mutual decision that it was probably just porn or something.

But I cannot get him off my damn mind, and it's driving me crazy.

I hate myself, I really do. I hate myself for melting whenever I'm around him, and for wanting to rip his clothes off.

Never, in my entire life, have I ever let a guy have a strong effect on me. I have seen some pretty sexy men, but I have never been almost infatuated with them like I am suddenly becoming with the prince.

I don't even know him, but he is all that is on my mind. The affect he has on me is something I am not used to, and I hate it.

I should be ashamed and possibly even afraid after our four encounters, three of which have been disastrous. Instead I am fascinated by him, curious about him, and maybe even crushing on him a little.

In other words, I am borderline obsessed with him. It is only a matter of time before I cross the border, do something really, really stupid, and then get deported back to Forks, unemployed and depressed.

I climb out of the shower with a sigh, all of my woes in that one exhalation of breath. It is just not like me to be so shallow by crushing on a guy just because he happens to possess godlike beauty.

Once I am dressed in my favorite skinny jeans and a comfy gray sweater, I pull on my striped toe socks and saunter down to the break room, hoping that there is food left.

When I reach the break room, I see that everyone is gathered around the flat screen that hangs from the wall.

Apparently they are watching the news, though I don't know why.

The screen shows a mass of paparazzi and their flashing lights, along with a couple that I can't recognize because other peoples' heads are in my way.

It's probably a celeb couple so I shrug it off and head over to the table where brunch has been laid out. Normally I am updated on all the latest celeb gossip, but living in the manor has secluded me. Still, I am too hungry to care about who the couple is.

I am pouring some cut fruit onto my plate when my ears perk up at the name "Edward" spoken by the news reporter.

"… Edward and Lady Tanya have been seeing each other for over two years now, so it is not a surprise that they will tie the knot just weeks from now. The king stated that he is elated with… "

My head whips towards the TV and I push my way through the crowd to the front, where Alice stands. Her eyes are wide and shiny as she stares at the screen.

My stomach drops as everything starts to come together.

The channel is a national news channel, and the headline on the bottom reads, "Cullen Prince Announces Engagement".

The newscasters are talking over footage of the prince and his – now fiancé- Lady Tanya of Vermont leaving some fancy restaurant the night before. They are swarmed by paparazzi and the newscasters are explaining what went down.

"In case you missed it, Prince Edward has proposed to his longtime girlfriend and childhood friend, Lady Tanya Denali of Vermont, just last night. They were spotted at five-star French restaurant Déchéant and when they emerged, she had a stunning smile on her face and a massive diamond on her finger. Sources tell us that later they went to Lady Tanya's mansion, where both their families were present, and announced the engagement. Prince Edward confirmed this with the National Enquirer, and his statement is as follows.

"'Miss Denali and I have been the best of friends since we were children. I am pleased to make her my wife.'

"We also caught up with Miss Denali as she left her home for what may have been preparation for the engagement."

They cut to a video of Tanya as she leaves her mansion, a maid on either side of her. She is dressed in a short fuchsia dress that she actually makes look classy. There is a sparkling necklace around her neck, a stylish hat on her head, and a handbag hanging from her forearm.

She unnecessarily holds her hat down, obviously to show off the rock on her finger.

The reporters are all firing questions at her and she stops just outside of her waiting car to speak to them.

The biggest grin is on her face as she answers questions, "Why, yes, yes, I am very happy. Any regrets?" – Insert super fake laugh here - "Of course not! Well, other than the fact that my darling Edward proposed in a restaurant of all places. What are we, common?" –Insert gasp of shock from reporters and another fake laugh from Tanya - "Yes, of course you can see the ring. Here it is. Too small for my tastes, but it's very beautiful, no? I might have to make him get me a bigger one." – Insert laugh - "I can't wait to be queen."

Alice is shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't know if I should be excited that there's gonna be a wedding, or disgusted with his choice in wife."

"I didn't know that she was that vain," Jacob's voice surprises me and I look up to see him next to me, scowling at the screen. "Yeah, she's hot, but really? 'I can't wait to be queen'? Gag."

I let out a breath that I was not aware that I was holding, and put my plate of untouched food down on the nearest table.

I'll admit, it bothers me way more than it should. Like I said, I don't even know the man and my insides are in knots over the fact that he is now engaged. Not just engaged, but engaged to someone who is apparently in it for superficial reasons.

What does he see in her, other than her drop dead gorgeousness? Seriously, if she didn't seem so vain and greedy, I'd go gay for her. Maybe a one night stand type of thing. They're going to make insanely stunning babies, for sure, but is he actually in love with her? Then again, they have known each other all their lives… This is some bullshit. She's all wrong!

My irritated thoughts are interrupted when Jacob gently tugs on my ponytail.

"Where's your head?" he asks.

With the prince. In his bedroom. Under his blankets. With him next to me. Possibly naked.

I sigh. "Just… everywhere. The announcement is kind of a shock, isn't it?"

Jacob shrugs indifferently. "Nah, not entirely. They've been together forever, so it was kind of expected. The biggest shock is that he's only twenty-two. I'm twenty-one and I can't imagine getting married a year from now."

"Not if you're in love," Alice sighs dreamily. "It's so romantic."

Jacob makes a face at her and I can't help but feel annoyed.

I'm not annoyed with Alice; I'm annoyed at the situation. I'm annoyed that I actually care that the prince is engaged.

If he had to get engaged, couldn't he have found someone who wasn't so shallow? The guy was educated at the top universities in the world, and he couldn't see through her ultra fakeness?

"What are you guys doing tonight?" I ask. "Anyone visiting family?"

"My dad's got plans," Jake says. "Fishing or something, and then dinner. He asked me to come, out of politeness of course, but it's too late to drive all the way to the rez. He won't miss me, not until I get my paycheck."

"My mom is working late today," Alice says glumly. "And my little brothers and sisters are spending the night with my grandma. I'm not going anywhere."

Alice, Jake, and I are all working at the palace for the same reason- financial issues. Each of us is trying to support our families, especially since the economy is currently shit.

Now I just need something to distract me from all this prince crap.

I come up with the perfect solution.

"Let's get drunk."

The only one of us that is legally allowed to get drunk is Jacob. Alice and I are both underage, me by three years and Alice by two.

I'm not much of a drinker but I will admit that Charlie used to let me have beer every once in a while, and I have taken a fair amount of shots at various high school parties. Still, I always drank responsibly and always had a Designated Driver to take me home.

Jacob agreed to be our DD, and he told us he knew a night club in Seattle that would allow us to get in, even though two of us weren't twenty-one yet. He had "connections" and therefore we'd be able to get piss drunk without a problem.

I am staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, marveling at my dress. Okay, so it's not my dress. It's Alice's and it is sexy.

Apparently, Alice is good with fashion. I never would have known that, seeing as I've only ever seen her in the lame worker uniform. The truth is that, even though the girl is as rich as me, she knows where to find good clothes for an amazing price.

Also, I am a lucky bitch because Alice and I share the same shoe size, therefore saving money.

The little black dress that I am wearing is a combination of leather and sequins. It's short with thin straps. It hugs my hips and makes my boobs look bigger than they are.

I didn't have any "clubbing" attire, so I asked Alice and discovered that we have both been cursed with having size nine feet. She is only about two inches shorter than me, so her big feet don't make her look like an alien. Luckily, her shoes are adorable, as are all her dresses. Most of them she has made herself, but they all look store-bought.

The dress that I am wearing has been purchased at a thrift shop, but you never would have guessed it. Since Alice's boobs are lemons compared to my apples, it is tight around the chest and also shorter.

It makes me feel sexy.

Alice holds up a pair of blue shoes with a super small heel. "I once knew a guy named Paul. Ex-boyfriend. Douchebag. This looks like him."

I laugh and she tosses the shoe over her shoulder and searches her suitcase for more shoes. There is no closet so whatever items that we can't leave lying around are kept in suitcases under our beds. In my case, there is one suitcase. In Alice's case, there are three.

"Oh, perfect!" Alice holds up a pair of hot pink and black shoes. "The heels are safe for you and look how it goes with the dress!"

"You are a genius," I say, folding my hands together and bowing Japanese style.

Alice winks. "I know it. Let me just get into my dress and we'll do something with your face."

I am not a fan of makeup but tonight I do not want to be me. I just want to party hard and forget that my life sucks, and forget where I live and who I work for.

I want to forget the prince.

So it is with closed eyes and parted lips that I let Alice paint my face.

When I open my eyes I do not look like Bella Swan, but that is exactly what I need.

Two hours later we pull up in front of a little nightclub called Sizzle. There is a line outside and apparently the bouncer is being an ass about who gets in.

"You sure we'll be able to get in?" I ask Jake hesitantly.

"No worries; I know the owner. Sam and I are like brothers."

Two minutes later we are already in the club, and the loud music is vibrating against my body. I can't help but dance.

This is the only kind of music that I can dance to, only because I don't have to think or try not to look stupid. I let the music take me over, and I find myself moving without thinking. It's the most amazing feeling and it is exactly what I want tonight.

I don't even remember when I start drinking. Jacob is handing us shots and we are taking them down. The more shots I drink, the more I forget about the prince. The more I am able to enjoy myself. The more I am able to believe that I do not have any responsibilities or any financial burdens. The more I am able to forget my occupation and who hired me.

It isn't long before the alcohol has possessed me. Then I am grinding against someone's crotch, and I'm pretty sure it's Jacob. His hands feel so good on my waist and his lips feel good on my neck.

I grind and grind and grind. Then it's not Jacob I'm grinding into, it's some other guy. Then there's another guy and another guy and another guy. They all lose faces. They just have hands and bodies and dicks that rub into my ass.

I dance with Alice, too. We're practically chest to chest, since she's in heels that make her much taller. Both of us are crazy drunk but it feels so good.

I don't feel like I am on earth anymore. I am in another dimension, where everything is dark and bright at the same time. There are a lot of different colors and tons of people who I don't recognize. It's a good feeling.

Suddenly I don't feel so good anymore. I feel really dizzy so I have to sit down. I find a seat and it is really, really cushiony.

"Hey there," the chair says. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," I reply lazily, as though chairs talk to me every day.

"You look pale."

"Uh huh."

"Need a ride home?"

I laugh. "You're a chair. You can't drive."

The chair stares at me. "You sure you okay, sweetie?"

The chair has a nice face and a nice jaw. It reminds me of someone, but I don't know who. The chair is touching me now, and it's helping me stand.

"Where do you live?" it asks me.

"Manor," I mumble, confused.

Where am I?

"She's with me," a deep voice says and I turn to see Jacob. He is blurry and he takes me by the arm.

"What were you doing on that guy's lap?" he asks "Do you know him?"

"He's a chair," I slur. "Not a guy."

Jacob makes a throaty sound; I think it's a chuckle. "Um, okay. Where's Alice? Oh, there she is. Hey… wait, no, Alice, don't lick that!"

Jacob leaves me alone for a second and then he's back with Alice in tow. She is laughing hysterically and I start laughing too.

We are both laughing when Jacob takes us outside. When we are in the spaceship I start to feel sick again.

"Take me back to Earth," I groan in the backseat of the spaceship. "Ugh."

Alice is crying. "I miss my mom."

"Alice, sweetie, don't cry," I slur, hugging her from where she sits next to me. "We'll save her from the aliens."

Alice cries harder and the person driving is laughing at us.

"You guys are hilarious when you're drunk," he says.

Jacob drops us off in our bedroom and Alice immediately runs to the bathroom, tripping twice on her way there. I kick my shoes off and slur a goodbye to Jake, who tells me something about taking it cheesy or something.

"Ew, cheese," I mumble, and he sighs before leaving.

The sound of Alice throwing up in the bathroom makes me feel sick, too, and I put my head in my hands and moan.

"Shut up," I groan, but apparently she doesn't hear me because she keeps going.

I get up and stumble over to the bathroom. I slump against the doorframe and once I am able to focus my eyes, I realize that I don't need to hold her hair back because it is so short.

I stagger back into the bedroom and her heaving makes me feel dizzy so I have to brace myself against the dresser by the door. That doesn't help much and before I know it I am falling on my ass. Hard.

That's gonna leave a bruise.

I put my head between my knees, regretting having drunk so much. I forget why I even wanted to get trashed in the first place.

Alice starts dry heaving and it's too much for me. The door is ajar so I crawl out on my hands and knees, welcoming the cool draft from the hallway on my face.

My bare knees scratch across the thick carpet but I keep on crawling, all the way down the long hallway. I don't know why I don't stop; I am just too drunk to care. I may be mumbling to myself.

The light in the hallway is dim, but I can make out the other doors that lead to rooms I have not been in.

Suddenly there is a hand grabbing my arm and it pulls me to my feet. I start to fight but my arms are pinned to my sides and I am pushed against a wall.

"You almost fell down the stairs," the velvet smooth voice says disapprovingly, and even though I am intoxicated, I know who it belongs to.

"You," I slur. "It's you."

There is no doubt that it is Prince Edward. Anyone would be able to recognize that bronze sex hair and green eyes.

He lets go of my arms and I am still slumped against the wall as I watch him eye me up and down.

Oh, yeah. I look like a whore.

"You need to go back to your room," he says seriously. "Clearly you are in no state of mind to be wandering around."

He is so bossy and the alcohol makes me bold, as well as a little pissy.

"Don't you tell me what to do," I say, stabbing him in the chest with my finger. I can barely get the words to come out.

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Excuse me?"

"You and your hair. You and your lickable… jaw. Ugh, you disgust me."

"Where is your room?"

"I don't give a fuck," I say, and every single word feels heavy in my mouth.

"Is it on this floor? Down the hall, perhaps?"

"You and your fiancé with her fake smiles and fake tan and fake tits… She's so fake she was probably made in China… or Taiwan… or Idaho. Wherever they make products through underpaid and overworked illiterates. Stupid whore."

"Okay, this is getting out of hand." He runs a hand through his hair and glances up and down the hallway. "Where is Emmett when you need him?"

I start to feel nauseated again and I can feel the discomfort in my stomach rapidly travelling upwards.

I clamp my hand over my mouth and try to get out of the way, but because life is a bitch I end up puking all over the floor.

Everything after that is a blur.

I hear curse words.

I smell something gross.

I might be mumbling "fuck my life" over and over again.

I hear Alice.

I am floating.

Everything is dark.

I have had hangovers before, but this tops them all. This is the mother of all hangovers. This is the king. This is the master. This is the fucking god.

But when Kate hands me my little blue card, I know I can't argue. Kate is always so stern and disapproving of everything; it would be idiotic of me to assume that she'd be even a little bit sympathetic to my situation.

Besides, I know I have a job to do. I have money to make. I need to grow a pair of ovaries and woman up. I need to suck it up and ignore the pounding headache and insatiable thirst.

I need to ignore the fact that I threw up on the prince's shoes and made him carry me to bed.

According to Alice, Prince Edward had carried me back to my room. Drunken Alice had left the room searching for me, and he followed her back and silently placed me on my bed before leaving. Alice had been too much in shock to say anything, and she wasn't sure if she was dreaming so she just collapsed onto her bed and passed out.

When she told me about it in the morning, I almost threw myself out the window.

Now I am staring down at my first chore on the schedule, and once again the large windows are looking very tempting.

Laundry: Prince Edward's Suite, Third Floor, Third Door on Right

I could never say it enough: Fuck my life.

The laundry has already been done so I am just supposed to put the clothes in his dresser and in his massive closet.

Honestly, I am dreading being in his room again. Fate wants to be a meanie and keeps making me relive my worst memories at the manor. What a bitch.

I pause outside of the prince's suite, unsure if I should go in through his bedroom or through his living room/bar/media center.

I decide on going in through the main part of the suite because then I'd have time to calm my nerves while I make it to the bedroom.

I wonder where the prince is. He had been here last night, but now it is Monday so maybe he is off doing something important and… "princey". I honestly do not know what the man does in his free time.

Ignoring the pounding headache, I put my key into the keyhole of the master suite.

Then I hear the music.

The sound is muted through the door, but it is very much audible. It is a haunting melody, and it sounds sad. Usually when I hear piano music I get a visual in my head, and this time I am picturing a rainy cliff with someone about to jump off.

Then the music changes and it gets angrier. The tempo gets faster and louder and it sounds like he's going to break the keys.

I remember how I had seen a piano in his living room, so of course he is playing it.

I have to wonder though; why is he so emo right now?

I finally realize that he is occupied, so I'd be able to get in and out of his bedroom quickly and without getting noticed.

Still, the thought of him being anywhere near me makes me feel like I have leftover puke in my system.

I quietly pull the laundry cart toward the second door that leads into his bedroom and unlock it.

My eyes immediately shoot to the desk in the corner, and I notice how it is completely bare. I also notice that the bottom drawer is completely shut and locked properly.

He isn't taking chances.

I am still curious as to what he possible keeps in there. You'd think that the prince would have some top secret safe somewhere to store his valuables in and such.

I push the cart all the way into the room, extremely grateful that I can use the music he's playing as an indicator of whether or not he's about to creep up on me.

I work in a rush. I only have to glance in his closet and dresser drawers to know where everything goes.

Majority of his clothes go in the closet, which is large enough to be a room in itself, and my job is made easier by the fact that everything is organized by color and clothing style. I'm glad it's not separated by thread count or fabric or something like that.

I also notice how all of the clothes in his closet are dressy. All are button front shirts and dress pants and suits and blazers. Holy fuck, the man has a lot of these things.

Once I am done placing things in the closet, I hurry back to the basket on the cart because I am almost done.

I peer in and gasp.

Jeans!

Could it be possible that the prince wears jeans? It's almost too hard to believe. I have never seen him in them. It feels so scandalous.

I can't help but giggle as I pull the jeans out. They are really worn out, like he wears them often. I glance at the tag in the back and it reveals that they are, unsurprisingly, designer.

I am so giddy holding a pair of the prince's jeans that I don't even notice when the music stops.

In fact, I am so busy staring at them that when he opens the door that leads from the living room into his bedroom, I have no clue.

Prince Edward clears his throat and I jump, dropping the jeans back into the basket.

"I'm, I'm, uh… just putting laundry away," I mumble, my face growing warm.

I'm not snooping through your shit again.

He nods and leans against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest, watching me. One corner of his mouth his pulled up slightly, like he's amused.

Asshole. Does my nervousness entertain you?

I pick up the jeans again and my hands are slightly shaky. I glance at him and notice what he's wearing for the first time.

Sweet baby Jesus, he's in a t-shirt and sweatpants! Holy shit!

Just like that I have dropped the jeans again, blinking at him like I can't believe my eyes.

His t-shirt is white and his sweat pants are dark gray. The way he has his arms folded over his chest makes the muscles of his arms stand out and he's also wearing slippers. Slippers!

He looks so normal, like just another twenty-something year old guy chillin' at home.

Like a really hot, twenty-something year old guy chillin' at home.

"Something wrong?" he asks, and for a second I forget who he is.

"You're in sweatpants," I blurt.

He cocks an eyebrow at me and the quirk in his lips becomes more pronounced. "Yes… Is that a shock?"

"Kinda."

"Why?"

"I, uh… wasn't expecting that."

He tilts his head to one side. "What were you expecting? Diamond encrusted silk?"

Oh shit. How does he know how I feel about his family and their stupid wealth?

I can feel my face grow red as I hastily look away and fold his jeans, walking them over to the open dresser drawer.

"Leave those out," he says, and I jump again.

I turn to look at him. "Sorry?"

"Leave those on the bed," he says, nodding towards the bed. "I'm wearing them later."

So bossy. Ugh. And why is he standing there and staring at me? It's making me so fucking jittery. I'm not going to steal his shit, or go through his stuff again. Distrustful little-

"It's Isabella, am I right?"

I freeze in the process of folding a t-shirt.

"Yes sir," I mumble.

He nods to himself. "How old are you?"

Okay, the fuck with the interview?

"Eighteen," I mutter, avoiding his gaze.

I can see his eyebrows rise from my peripheral.

"You're young," he says, but he says it like he's talking to himself.

So are you.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

I freeze again, and look up to stare at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed together slightly.

"I guess," I say softly.

"Why are you here?" He says it frustratedly, like he doesn't want me to be. Like my very presence annoys him. It kinda hurts.

"I have no choice," I reply, and I can't help sounding bitter. I occupy myself with straightening out the clothes in the drawer. "I can't afford college. My dad was hired by the king and I had to move in with him because I have nowhere else to go, seeing as I can't afford an apartment or anything. I wouldn't be able to pay off the mortgage without him, anyway."

"Student loans?"

Why do you care?

"I doubt I'd be able to pay those off. Student loans are just another way to fuck up your life after college."

I gasp when I realize that I have just thrown the f-bomb in front of the prince, but when I look at him he seems to be deep in thought.

In a hurry, I put the remainder of the clothes away and grab the cart to leave.

I am glad that he hasn't brought up the night before, or the time that I spilled soup on his dick or the time that he caught me being nosey.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, and I freeze up again.

He looks genuinely worried and I can't understand why.

"I'm okay," I mumble.

"You look like you had a rough night." His eyes glint slightly and I realize that he is amused again.

I can't believe you're bringing it up, you beautiful asshole!

I can feel my cheeks grow warm. "I did."

"Underage drinking is illegal," he sounds like a lenient father pointing out the dangers to me without really telling me to stop.

Ya think?

"I know," is all I am able to say.

He studies my face and I am starting to freak out a little on the inside.

Is he going to tell on me? Will I get in trouble? Oh God…

He snorts to himself, as if at some internal joke, and I start to get angry. He just seems so damn arrogant.

"Does that amuse you?" I ask, and I can't help that my tone is a little rude. Seriously though, I'm tired of making myself look like a fool in front of him.

His smirk falls and my heart starts to hammer. It starts pounding a tattoo in my chest because he is still standing there against the doorframe, still looking hot, and his eyes seem to look right into my soul, like he knows all my secrets. It's unnerving.

"No, it doesn't," he says seriously.

The following silence is very awkward, and I don't know what to do. His presence is a little intimidating. He makes me feel small.

"Can I go now?" I ask softly.

He blinks. "Yes. Thank you."

Um, you're welcome?

I open the door and wheel the cart out, breathing a sigh of relief once the door is closed behind me.

That went well. There were no spills or trips or murders or explosions. Huh.

My heart is still hammering as I take the elevator down.

A/N: See? These two are capable of having a normal conversation. It's only going to progress from here on out. ;)

Polyvore: Bella and Alice's clubbing outfits are on my profile.

Next Chapter: Sunday, February 13th