A/N: Hi y'all. This is the chapter 11 outtake, and it takes place Sunday morning (after Bella's punishment, while Edward's at the hospital and Bella's at home writing about her experience).

I tap my fingers on the desktop, planning my next move. I've finished the work I brought home from the hospital, tidied up the house, and paid some bills... and it's only one o'clock. I decide to watch the documentary that arrived in the mail yesterday, and scoop up the red Netflix envelope to take into the den.

The documentary is about the failing American education system. It's supposed to be excellent, but it doesn't hold my focus. I'm distracted by the painting that hangs above the television.

It's a painting done by an old man from a small town I'd visited in Italy. It captured the breathtaking view from the high cliffs of his village perfectly, and I had to have it. The artist spoke no English, and my Italian was poor, but we managed to negotiate successfully. He even poured me a glass of limoncello and toasted with me before I left. I chuckle to myself, thinking of the difficulty I'd had transporting the piece from Vernazza to Rome, then carrying it through the busy streets to find a place that would pack and ship it to the United States. I'd almost dropped it in front of a speeding Vespa when I stepped into the street without looking. Esme would love that story... I wonder if she's been to Rome?

I wonder if I should move the painting to the living room. Yes, it definitely deserves a more prominent place in my home. I stop the DVD and lift the painting from its hooks, tuck it under my arm and walk to the living room. I set the painting on the sofa and look for a better spot to hang it-maybe over the fireplace? I stand in the center of the room and examine my options, trying to envision the possibilities... but nothing seems quite right.

Perhaps the golden brown color of the walls is all wrong? And the furniture suddenly seems wrong, like it wouldn't fit with the blues and greens of my favorite work of art. Clearly, I need the professional guidance of an interior designer to make this work.

I pull my BlackBerry out of my pocket and tap out a text message to my brother, asking for Esme's phone number. She's a designer, and I've enjoyed the work she's done in Emmett and Rose's house, so I'm sure she'll do an excellent job here. A few seconds after I hit send, my phone starts to buzz with an incoming call.

"Carlisle Cullen," I answer with a sigh, prepared for my brother's teasing.

"You sly dog!" Emmett barks. "You need some design help, huh Carlisle? Feel like redoing your living room?"

"Yes, Emmett, exactly. Don't read anything else into this. I've been thinking about redecorating for a while," I lie, "and I like what Esme did with your place. She has exquisite taste," I explain.

"What's that? You wanna get a taste?" he asks, taunting me.

"Are you going to give me her number or not?" I counter, ignoring his childishness.

"Yeah, I'll text it to you. Just promise me you won't be a douche; she's really awesome, Carlisle, and you shouldn't fuck around with her. If you're gonna laugh and flirt and moon over her like you did yesterday, don't pretend this is all business," he says, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. I didn't feel like I was flirting with her; we'd simply shared our respective stories and had a pleasant conversation.

"It is all business, Emmett," I respond. "Just because I was friendly with the woman doesn't mean I was flirting. And I certainly don't moon over anyone."

"Whatever, bro. Just be good to her, or I'll have to give you another ass kicking," he says, and I chuckle a little at his response. The last time Emmett and I fought he was eight years old; he's been threatening a repeat performance ever since.

"Right. Send me that number," I remind him. "Thanks, Emmett," I add, hanging up before he can respond. Flirting? Was I flirting? I'll have to watch my behavior more when I see her again, because I don't want to give her the wrong impression. I simply want her help with my living room. Of course, I wouldn't mind hearing more of her stories. And her laughter, I definitely want to hear more of that.

Have I mentioned that I love Emmett?