Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement is intended. If I did own Twilight, I would never do laundry again.

And through a fractal on a breaking wall,
I see you my friend and touch your face again,
Miracles will happen as we dream
But we're never gonna survive unless
We get a little crazy

****

Thirty-five minutes later, I'm helping Em set up the bar when I see Angela racing across our backyards, carrying her high heels in one hand and a lidded coffee tumbler in the other. Her smile falters as she notices what I'm doing, or maybe it's what I'm wearing.

"Isabella! Why the fuck aren't you dressed? The Sex God will be here in 45 minutes. Was I not completely clear on the absolute perfection of this man? You cannot be standing here in holey jeans and bare feet when he arrives."

Yep, it's the clothes.

"I'm getting dressed in ten minutes!" I reply testily. "Now back the hell off! There's no reason to try and impress the Sex God, anyway. It would be unethical of me to try to seduce the other side's lawyer, Angela."

"You know, I am not a complete fool, B. I realize nothing can happen until negotiations are over. This is foreplay, honey. Forefuckingplay. Think back. Remember when you would spend days teasing a guy before finally luring him into the web you designed to make him think it was all his idea? He won't know what hit him."

I suddenly have the image of a giant spider with Angela's face.

"No, Ang, I don't remember ever doing that. I was never good at being a calculating seductress. I was the fly, not the spider." I say through clenched teeth, frowning. I think I'm the fly again now, and so is the unfortunate Sex God. Spider Angela is going to try and lure us both into her web of casual sex.

Em takes advantage of the pause in the yelling match Angela and I were having to seethe, "There's a Sex God coming to dinner? No one tells me anything anymore!" She drops the 20-pound bag of ice she was holding down to the tile floor, shaking the room and causing all the glassware on top of the bar to clink together.

"Ladies, that is enough," I say, still through clenched teeth. "I love you both, but this has gone too far. Tonight is a very important night for my company. I know my personal life has to change, but I won't do it at the expense of the company that my husband and his father built. I need you both to lay the hell off my sex life for the next few hours and concentrate on the business at hand. The Sex God is a nonissue for now."

"Em," I continue, "I'll finish icing down the drinks before I get dressed so you can focus on the food. Angela, can you please grab the flowers off the kitchen counter? The short vase is for the dining table and the taller one is for the bar."

"Okay, Sarge," Angela snickers while saluting me. "Hey, I made you a drink to, you know, calm the nerves before all the fun starts. Let me get some glasses and we'll split it while we're getting you dressed."

I roll my eyes and shake my head. I know I won't win this battle. With an exasperated laugh, I ask, "What's this one called? No more Afternoon Delight, I hope."

"Nope, this is a brand new creation," she calls from the kitchen with a laugh. "It's called Strawberry Sexual Healing." I hear a snort – Em's – and I think a high five, too.

I'm screwed, not only because I apparently now have two pimps instead of just one, but also because I'm pretty sure Lily heard what the name of this drink is, and she liked it.

****

Several minutes later, Angela saunters, there's no other word to describe her walk, into my bathroom with two red plastic cups and hands one to me. She's my best friend, so I don't always really pay attention to how she moves. But she manages to be graceful and sexy and beautiful all at the same time. I wish I could learn to walk that way. She has the kind of walk that makes men stop whatever they're doing to watch. She told me once that she learned this walk from watching old movies and insists that she was a total math geek before college. I think she might just be trying to make me feel better. I bet she was born with those moves.

"Come on, Bella. Don't be mad. You know it's funny," she teases, as she takes a big drink. "Drink, drink, drink. We've got to get you ready and leave enough time for flossing. You don't want any strawberry seeds stuck in your teeth when you greet your guests, right?"

"This isn't gonna knock me on my ass, is it?" I ask before taking a tentative sip.

"It would if I let you drink the whole thing. That's why we're splitting. It'll be just enough to relax you, I promise. I really do love you and I want everything to go well for you this week. And I do mean every. little. thing. Well, hopefully not so little," she says in her husky man voice. God, no wonder she can get any man in our office to do anything for her. I wish my voice was husky and sexy instead of squeaky.

"You're not really wearing that, are you?" She asks, pointing at the new jeans, cute, flowy black top and black jeweled elbow-length shrug hanging on my closet door.

"Angela, you personally chose that outfit for me not 24 hours ago," I complain.

"That was before we knew there would be a special guest at dinner. How about a skirt instead? You have great legs," she reasons.

"No. No way. I will have to wear skirts and heels the next two days for negotiations and I want to be comfy tonight. Jeans and flats as planned," I insist.

"Yeah, you're right. Casual is better tonight. And the outfit is fucksexy, too. Save the gams for tomorrow. The new short gray pinstripe skirt. Your legs will drive him mad. I've never been so glad we have a glass-top table in the conference room," she says.

I slurp the rest of my drink down before shooting a glare her way. Obviously, my earlier come to Jesus meeting has not toned down Angela's enthusiasm for her plan.

"I see you glaring at me, sister," she laughs. "You didn't really think I'd give up that easily, did you? But calm down. I promise to behave myself tonight and through negotiations, okay? Now that Objective #4 is met so far ahead of schedule, I'm perfectly willing to wait until Wednesday night when the meetings are over to move forward. Dinner and some bar hopping after successful negotiations will be the perfect opportunity to launch Objective #5."

I spit toothpaste into the sink and ask, "What was #4?"

"Finding the hot guy, silly. I really didn't think I'd find him this soon. I was planning on Wednesday or even Thursday. And just so you don't have to ask, #5 is the S.E.X." She nods at me in the mirror before turning to grab my clothes off the hangers for me.

Five minutes later, she's dressed me, perfumed me, checked my teeth and her own for strawberry seeds, picked jewelry for me, and powdered my oily t-zone. She's like a damn tornado. Lastly, she puts lotion on my hands and forearms so I'm soft enough to shake hands, or apparently forearms, with the Sex God.

I am suddenly reminded that Alice used to do this to me in high school, dressing me up and running circles around me, getting both of us ready for any activity faster than I could get just myself ready. I quickly push that memory from my mind. I have no time tonight for melancholy thoughts. I have business associates and a Sex God to impress! Lord, where did that crazy thought come from?

With a last look in the mirror, Angela and I head out to await our guests.

****

"Okay, ladies…and Ben," Angela pauses to give her husband a wink and a smile, "the limo driver just called. They are about five minutes out. What?" she asks when she sees my perplexed look. "I wanted a little advance warning of their arrival. I asked him to call and, you know, when I use my sexy voice, the boys never say no."

Now she's grinning, and poor, love-struck Ben is beaming right back at her.

Shit! She's coming at me with lipstick. "Just a little, Bella, and it's a really light color. There. So pretty. So 'Come hither'," she says when she's done.

Angela, Em and MK are all looking at me like they're my freaking fairy godmothers or something and I know I'm blushing….again. I think Angela might be tearing up. She sniffles. Ben keeps looking from me to her with his WTF? face.

"Knock it off, guys. Let's go wait on the porch, Ang. Where are Tyler, James and Jessica?" I ask as we walk outside. "Shouldn't they be here to greet our guests, too?"

Angela has the good sense to look guilty, or at least try to look guilty, when she responds. "I told them 15 minutes later than I told the limo driver. I didn't think we needed Jessica here for the Sex God's arrival." She looks away quickly.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side!" I say laughing. "You really have no shame, do you?" I turn to face her and lean a hip against the railing of the porch which runs the entire length of the front of my house, adding a country feel to the Craftsman style.

"Oh, good move, not facing the direction where they'll be coming in. Doesn't make you look too anxious," Angela observes. I swear that's not what I was thinking….I think.

"Here they come! They're pulling into the circle drive. Now, I'll make the introductions since…wait, I don't actually know his name. Mr. Vulturi will have to do the introductions. Bella? You okay? You're looking a little shaky there, sister. Smile!"

****

Seconds later Angela grabs my elbow and pulls me toward the steps. As we descend the four steps from the porch to the sidewalk, the driver has already made his way around and is opening the door facing us. Suddenly, the door on the other side opens up and a tall, athletically-built man gets out and steps into the yard a few feet away, without so much as a backward glance at us, talking into the phone held to his left ear.

"That's him, and it looks like I was right about the ass," she whispers. Yeah, she was right about the ass. He's wearing dark jeans and a dark blue shirt with the cuffs rolled up around his tanned forearms. The jeans are just baggy enough to be cool while also showing of his spectacular backside. California Sex God, what is your name? And would you like to meet my friend, Lily? Gah! How much rum did Ang give me? These lustful thoughts are so not me.

I snap myself back to reality as I see Mr. Vulturi approach us, followed by some of his staff. I immediately recognize Jane, Alec, and Demetri from our initial meetings in LA a few months ago.

"Mr. Vulturi, welcome to my home. I'm so pleased you could join us tonight for dinner and some non-publishing world conversation," I say, smiling and grasping his left hand since he's holding his cane in his right hand.

He pulls me close to kiss me on the cheek affectionately. I kind of wish he was my grandfather. I never knew either of mine and Mr. Vulturi seems like he would be such a good one. My heart aches a little for him that he and his wife never had children. I beam up at him and desperately hope Angela didn't miss any strawberry seeds during my oral exam.

"Bella, so good to see you. And I believe I've asked you more than once to please call me Aro. You remember Jane, Demetri and Alec, I presume?"

"Of course, Aro. I'm so glad you all could come. You remember Angela Weber, DiClemente Publishing's CFO, don't you?"

"Yes, yes. I couldn't forget Angela. We also brought a surprise guest with us tonight, Bella. I hope it isn't too much of an imposition. When my lawyer offered to come along and look over the contract, I gladly accepted," Aro says sheepishly.

With a quick glance at the Sex God, he continues, "I'm sure he'll be with us in a moment. He got a call from another client just as we were pulling up. I'm anxious to introduce him to you and your staff. You see, he grew up somewhere up here in the great state of Washington, although I can't remember for the life of me what the little town is called. Charming place, though, he says."

"Bella, we brought some wine. Would you like us to take it on inside?" Jane asks, smiling. I have never been sure if she's on board with me potentially being her boss or not, but she seems to be playing nice for now.

"Yes, please. Angela, would you please take them in? Aro and I will wait out here until our last guest is ready to join us." I am still holding Aro's left hand between both of mine and I crave just a few quiet moments with him before all the business meetings kick in. I have wined and dined this man and his wife for months now and am genuinely fond of them both. I would like to inquire about Heidi's health without the others overhearing.

"I know what you're up to, missy," Aro chuckles after the others have gone. "You want to know if I've left Heidi for you yet, eh?" Aro's eyes shine with amusement. "Well, you know I can't do that. Not when she's on the mend from that broken hip. We're about ready to put our dancing shoes back on! Jake promised to send us an invitation to his wedding this fall, so if she's up to it, you'll see her then if not before."

"Oh, Aro, that's the best news!" I say, my eyes filling with tears of joy. I press my lips to his cheek and then rest my chin on his shoulder for just a second. Behind him, I see the Sex God still on the phone. I watch as he raises his right hand and rakes it through his hair roughly, causing the hair on top of his head to stick out every which way. I frown slightly, thinking of someone else who used to do that, but am brought back to the present when Aro continues speaking.

"Will Jake be here tonight?"

I straighten to look him in the eye as I answer. "No. He's on a flight back from New York right now. His fiancée took him there to meet her grandparents since they aren't well enough to travel here for the wedding. He asked me to pass along his wishes for a wonderful evening, though. He'll be anxious to see you in the morning. You know, we are both so fond of you," I say.

Over his shoulder I see the Sex God finally getting off the phone. I smile up at Aro, remarking, "Your lawyer is finally off the phone. My lawyer isn't even here yet. We're always waiting on them, huh? And probably getting charged for it!" We laugh together as Aro moves his right foot to turn slightly toward the Sex God.

"Young man," he calls in that grandfatherly tone again, "haven't you kept Mrs. DiClemente waiting long enough? Come and meet the lovely lady."

"Sorry. I'll be right there, Aro," the Sex God replies, his back still to us. "Please forgive my rudeness," he begins as he turns toward us. He takes one step then stops dead in his tracks.

Angela's right; he's beautiful.

Our eyes meet. His are still the greenest I've ever seen. My smile falters and my eyes blink furiously. His lips settle into that smirk that used to make my knees go weak and my pulse race.

I think a tectonic plate just shifted under my feet. I am clinging to Aro now and fleetingly hope that I don't pull us both down as I struggle to maintain my composure in the midst of the earthquake.

"Edward," I breathe.