I am sorry this took so long! I've been so busy and writer's block is a massive bitch. But, I finally managed to write this in an afternoon. Thank you for all the faves, comments and alerts! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Aaaaaanywaaayyy, hope you enjoy this!

Summer dress

It was late spring when Edward came during a Saturday in an Armani suit, requesting me for the day. I was in the rec room, with an avocado facemask on and reading a Cosmo when one of Padrona's lackeys burst into the room. "Sapphire! Lion's here to see you. He wants to take you out to a hotel rather than stay here. Padrona wants you to hurry, they're in her office."

Everyone in the room turned to stare at me, in a ratty old 'I heart NY' hoodie and worn tracksuit bottoms, where the elastic had started to fray. Everything else in my wardrobe was pretty much the same. A whorehouse didn't require its employees to have pretty clothes that covered their midriff and hardly anyone ever asked to take out a girl for a day.

"Shit," was the first word out of my mouth, slapping the magazine close and making a beeline for the sink, washing the mask off my face.

Everyone was still, either unable to help or unwilling to help. Aquamarine was the first to jump up, her corn silk hair pinned back from her face as she said quickly: "I have a summer dress you could borrow. You're about the same size as me so it should fit."

Aquamarine had never really spoken to me before. She more or less kept herself to herself but the times we had spoken, she was always kind, something rare in a place like this. I smiled gratefully at her and said, "that would be brilliant, thank you 'Marine."

I followed her to her room and she pulled out a pale pink dress with spaghetti straps. The skirt's hem was becoming undone and the lace around the bodice was fraying. But it was better than nothing. "Thank you so much Marine. I'll give it back I promise."

Marine shrugged, "I don't really care. Never wear it anyway."

I smiled ruefully at her and took the cotton dress, "Thanks anyway."

I ran to my room and tore my clothes off, slipping the cotton dress over my head. Taking my beaten old hairbrush I combed my hair quickly in the mirror, trying to make it fall in smooth sheets. I slapped a few bits of make up on, uncaring if it actually looked all right. I pulled on a pair of scruffy ballet pumps smoothed my hair back and took a deep breath before opening the door and running towards the Floor.

I burst into the bar area and sprinted towards another door labelled "Private". I tripped into the room, grabbing the back of a chair to keep myself from falling flat on my face.

"Ah, Sapphire, graceful as ever," Padrona's voice was sneering as I straightened myself, smoothing my hands nervously over the cotton of my dress. Padrona's office is neat, organised. Decorated in beige and brown, the only flair of colour is from the potted pink orchids behind the desk. There's even a picture of her fat son, his fat wife and even fatter grandchildren who lived in Italy.

"That's alright," another voice said smoothly, "grace is overrated anyway."

Edward looked sharp in his Armani suit, I had to admit. His reddish brown hair was still in its 'I've just been freshly fucked' look and he grinned that warped grin of his. He turned to Padrona, "So it's settled then. I have her until four?"

"Yes, with a few conditions," Padrona pressed a button on her desk phone, which gave a nasal buzz.

Stefan entered a few minutes later, bowed his head to Padrona, "Ma'am, you called."

"Stefan will follow you everywhere you go as a precaution against…accidents," Padrona smiled coyly at Edward.

But Edward frowned, "Surely that isn't necessary."

Padrona's nostrils flared but her smile remained constant, "its standard policy. To make sure our property doesn't get lost or stolen."

Edward's relaxed hand curled into a fist before spasming out to relax again. "You know I am more than capable in keeping Sapphire within my care. I value our partnership and am not willing to cause its breakage any time soon. I like my privacy, Padrona, I'm sure you understand that."

Padrona continued to smile, her eyes becoming hard, "I'm sorry. I can't-"

"Please, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement," he flashed a grin again, his fingers reached into his inside pocket of his jacket. I saw the flash of a gun handle slotted neatly into a holster before he pulled out a roll of bills, leaning forward to slide it across the expanse of desk.

Padrona's eyes glittered with greed and she took the money, shutting it away into her desk. With a flick of her hand, she said, "You're no longer needed Stefan."

Stefan masked his surprise but left, closing the door behind him. Padrona turned her attention back to Edward again, smiling warmly now, "Have fun and bring her back in one piece."

Edward already had an arm wrapped around me and was ushering me out of the door, "Of course, of course. I'll make sure she'll be back."

I hardly said a word through this whole interaction and let Edward push me up the stairs to the bright spring day in New York. "Thank God. The old cow was getting on my nerves," he muttered, as I stood blinking in the bright natural light.

I still said nothing until he pulled out a set of car keys and pressed a button to unlock the Aston Martin that was parked across the street. "Seriously?" I asked him, as I followed him across the tarmac.

He glanced at me with an almost outraged look in his gaze, "Are you insulting my Sadie?"

I froze, staring at him for a good minute, and then my face broke into an incredulous grin, "You named it?"

"Her," he corrected me, opening the door to let me in, "hurry up. We need to go shopping."

"What?"

"Get in and I'll tell you."

I huffed, stomped forward and plunked myself into the car.

Arrogant jerk.

He slammed the door behind me and sauntered his way around to the driver's door. When he got in he grinned roguishly at me, "you do realise you've got eyeshadow on your cheek?"

I scowled at him, "I had 5 minutes to get ready dickwad, could have given me a bit of heads up you were coming to see me."

He laughed and reached forward, rubbing the smudge off with his callused thumb.

This was the first time he'd touched me without duress.

Tiny electric shocks fizzled out from where he'd touched and I nearly jolted back with the force of it.

The fuck?

Ever since I'd started this job, when a man touched me or I touched them, I felt nothing.

No warmth.

No sparks.

So this… just one small touch, barely a brush…crap.

Not what I was expecting

I masked my shock as he then started the car, smiling in quiet satisfaction. I'd never seen it on his face before. It was a link to the more boyish side to him.

I sniggered to myself before quickly cutting it off, "Why are you taking me shopping?"

"Because I am not taking you to Delmonico's looking like I picked you off the street," he said bluntly, his smile disappearing, "that thing you're wearing looks like its about to disintegrate."

Arrogant arsehole.

"Piss off," I snapped, "its not even mine."

He paused, not looking at me, before saying, "I'll take you to Saks."

I said nothing, folding my arms and staring sulkily out of the window. We span past busy streets, people taking full advantage of a sunlit day. He drove fast, swerving expertly around swearing taxi drivers. "Do you always drive like a maniac?" I commented, wincing as we nearly clipped the edge of a bicyclist.

"I'll have you know, I'm an excellent driver," he said confidently, "do you really think I'd harm my Sadie?"

"What's with the name?"

"Its after one of The Beatles' songs: Sexy Sadie," grinning impishly, he began to sing in a low monotone: "Sexy Sadie, what have you done? You made a fool of everyone. You made a fool of everyone. Sexy Sadie ooh what have you done…"

He continued, his voice breaking in the parts that were too high for him and the rest of it a low dirge.

It was terrible.

I began to snigger, covering my mouth, "God that's awful."

"What? Are you doubting my amazing singing skills?" he said incredulously, and then continued to sing, "One sunny day, the world was waiting for a lover…"

"Ok, stop!" I laughed, the tension in the air draining away, "stop murdering The Beatles. I'm pretty sure that's blasphemy."

He laughed and finally stopped trying to sing, "So if I'm trying to pick up a chick, I shouldn't sing to them?"

I snorted, "Definitely, do not sing to them. Or go onto American Idol."

He sighed dramatically, "I guess that shoots my dream of becoming a rock star. Dammit."

I sniggered, "poor you. With your Aston Martin called Sadie and your own personal whore on hand to take to lunch at Delmonico's. Life must be hard."

He rolled his eyes, pulling up outside of the glittering and gleaming building that is Saks on 5th Avenue. "Are you allowed to park here?" I asked.

He gave me an sceptical look, "Did you just ask a mobster if it's alright for him to park in an illegal area? Seriously?"

He was out of the car before I could reply and I sniggered again before following him. It seemed that the further away I was from the brothel, the more cheerful I got. I felt…pleasant, if that's a way to describe your feelings. The sun was out and the buzz of the city was all around me. Edward was waiting by the doors of Saks, eyeing me as I sauntered towards him, "you seem cheerful."

I shrugged, "I like being out. Even if it is with you."

"Ouch, that stung," he said lightly, taking my waist and pulling me towards to the door, "c'mon."

"You really don't have to buy me anything," I said nervously as we entered the cosmetics section, smelling lightly of vanilla and cinnamon.

"Hmm…I should get you a perfume as well," he said idly, as he collected a smelling strip from one of the many perfectly turned out cosmetic sellers and taking a smell, "Ugh, Miss Dior. Jane wore that all the time."

He chucked it to the floor and made a beeline for the nearest lift. "We need the third floor," he said knowledgably, without looking at the floor plan stamped next to the gold lifts.

"How do you know?" I asked, as we watched the floors tick by.

"Jane could shop for America if she wanted to," he said absently, gazing down at me, "she had a talent for spending my money."

"You really don't need to get me anything," I said impatiently. The lift dinged, the doors slid open and Edward all but pushed me inside.

"Bella, I have had a shopper for a girlfriend, a shopper for a sister, a shopper for a sister-in-law and a shopper for a mother. All have reminded me that a girl needs a good set of clothes to take her through life. You my dear, need a good set of clothes."

"Clothes? As in plural?" I nearly choked, glancing around at my rather opulent surroundings.

"Yes," he said, as if I was a particularly slow child, "All I've ever seen you in is lingerie. And even though you do look lovely," he eyed me suggestively, earning him a punch. "Ow! As I was saying, you need a few good set of clothes that make you look good not naked."

There was an old lady wearing what looked like the Hope diamond around her neck in the lift with us, who was starting to stare at us with distaste when we got out at the third floor, "but what about Delmonico's? Don't we have time-"

"I have a private room there that I know only I and my family ever use. They can wait. Now, where's Paul?"

His head snapped to and fro, eyeing the place around us. I knew he wasn't going to give in, so I chewed on my tongue and allowed him to drag me by the hand in his quest to 'find Paul.'

Paul turned out to be a very handsome and very gay shop clerk.

"Edward! Long time, no see. No longer with Jane?" Paul grinned a smile that needed sunglasses, his beautifully tanned skin in great contrast with the whiteness of his teeth. A streak of shocking white hair zipped across the inky blackness of his hair and he was the same staggering height as Edward. He wore an all black Armani suit, with a deep purple shirt and an even deeper purple tie.

"Yeah, didn't work out," Edward grinned widely and then gestured to me, "Bella, Paul, Paul, Bella."

Paul's amber eyes snapped to me and he grinned, "Ah, new flavour of the month." He shook one manicured hand with my own, eyeing me up and down, "she's pretty. Not tanned like the last one but…pretty."

I smiled nervously, and muttered a 'hi'.

"Bella's just come back from visiting her parents in Paris, and wouldn't you know it, her bags got lost. Could you find her a good set of clothes that should cover all situations? Make her look good, y'know? Bella isn't as much as a fashionista as Jane was, and then have it all sent to my address?"

Paul's eyes literally lit up with delight, "Of course!" he turned his attention to me and grinned, "My own Barbie Bella. God, its great that you're tall, cause I have several things lined up for a tall woman like you…"

We were hustled into a private changing room and told to wait, but not before being offered something to drink.

As Paul whisked away after knowing my sizes, I sat nervously at the edge of my plush seat while Edward relaxed back in his chair, scrolling though his Blackberry, "why do you have tog et me a personal shopper?" I hissed, glancing around at the stylishly decorated room, "I'm not that hopeless."

He gave me an 'are you serious?' look and then went back to scrolling through his phone.

"I hate you," I deadpanned, staring up at the ceiling, "I feel like I'm about to choke on the scent of expense here."

"Only the best for my 'flavour of the month'."

That made something clunk in my brain.

It made me feel hot again.

What the fuck am I doing?

I break my death stare at the ceiling to stare at him.

Arrogant wanker.

He glanced at me with a smirk, "he likes you, I can tell."

"Why?"

"Because you're tall. Jane was a little slip of a thing. You're at least over five foot. I've never seen him so excited."

I frowned at the ceiling, "so…this is a temporary thing. Like a…relationship? Am I just that? A flavour of the month?"

There was a pause. A thick, heavy one. "Why do you need to ask?"

My fingers dug into the leather of my chair and I blew out all the air from my cheeks, "Because-"

"Alright, beautiful! You ready to try on some outfits?"

/~*~\\\

Paul, even if he is slightly manic, is a genius.

He just seems to know what makes my waist seem small, my skin all glowy, my eyes more sparkly, my ass less big.

He stripped me down to my underwear, then helped me get into the silks, velvets, satins, linens, cottons of green, purple, red, pink, yellow and blue. My feet were graced by the presence of Manolos, Jimmy Choos, Christian Louboutin, Oscar De La Renta and Valentina.

Yeah…intense.

Edward would judge each outfit, eyeing me with those bottle green eyes of his. He'd be blunt at times, i.e. 'that looks shit' but most of the time, he would nod appreciatively and the garments would be added to the pile of stuff.

My stomach was growling when we were finished, and Edward told me to get into a Chloe aquamarine pleated skirt and white silk blouse, with black toe heels as he went with Paul to pay. I don't know what happened to 'Marine's dress. Thrown away probably. The rest of the stuff was put into bags then carried away to God knows where and then Edward came back, examined me one last time and nodded in approval.

Paul was ecstatic, "You look amazing! I'm amazing! Just a bit of perfume and make-up and you'd be fabulous."

Edward took my hand, pulling me close and said, "Maybe next time. But we have lunch to catch, don't we sweetheart?"

The amount of lies building up is making my head spin. And I'm the queen of lies.

"Yeah, of course, darling," I replied coyly, fluttering my eyelashes at him and giving him a smile.

I think he knew it was bullshit.

/~*~\\\

Delmonico's was a steakhouse on 56 Beaver Street, the building mimicking the European style. The inside is decorated in reds and browns with yellow lightings around the restaurant. The maître-d' led us through the low lights to the back of the restaurant, Edward's hand burning on my hip.

The maître-d' opened a pair of dark wood doors at the back of the restaurant and gestured inside, "A waiter will be here in a moment to take your orders. Meanwhile, make yourself comfortable."

I examined the room we were in, seeing the modern painting of Central Park on the opposite wall, the crystal vases of roses set on the mahogany chest of drawers on the right hand wall and the table set with a white tablecloth and silver cutlery.

"Fancy," I said dully, "the best for your 'flavour of the month'."

"What's gotten into you?" Edward asked exasperatedly, "if its about the clothes-"

"Why the fuck would it be about the clothes?" I snapped, plucking at my shirt, "do you honestly think I would get wound up over clothes?"

"Well Jane would go insane if so much as a speck got on her clothes, so-"

"Stop comparing me to your ex-girlfriend!"

My skin feels tingly.

My insides hot. Scorching.

The knock on the door does nothing to cool it all.

"Come in!" Edward barked.

The frightened waiter slipped in and asked about ordering something. I turned to Edward, and said in a hotly sweet voice, "Why don't you order me something, sweetness. You know what's good here."

Edward's jaw clenched but he picked up one of the menus from the table and rattled off a series of dishes.

I sat myself down at the table and steepled my fingers in front of my mouth, wondering how my eyes were stinging.

The waiter left and Edward sat down opposite me, staring at me intently, "Alright, what is it?"

I looked at him, really looked at him.

In a weird way, he's kinda naïve.

He expects to become friends or whatever the hell we are with a rival's prostitute and not expect for that prostitute to have baggage.

And God, do I have baggage.

He's staring at me with those large green eyes of his.

Underneath that seemingly debonair attitude, he's still a boy.

Ha.

The old soul and young one.

"I'm still not entirely clear on what this is," I said, leaning back in my chair, "am I a friend? Or a friend that is meant to become something more? And even then, what might we do about this situation we have." I gestured to myself, "about the manacles I have. The position you're in. The fact that this world is not safe, no matter where you go."

I leaned forward, smiling sadly, "I haven't spent this long and worked this hard to be killed before my 30th birthday. You know what I'm hoping for?"

He shook his head, brow furrowed as he listened.

I placed my hands flat on the table, staring down at my plate, "That if I do as I'm told. That if I suck the right cocks and fuck the right men and fold myself away when in between, that I'll get out of this. That I'll be 'promoted' as it were to a more stable position, like Padrona." He scowled at the name but I continued anyway, "it's a small hope, but I'm willing to take it. And someone like you can destroy that hope."

He still said nothing and I clasped my hands together in my lap, "In other words: I don't want to get hurt because some big shot playboy with too much money took pity on me. I'd like a guarantee for my safety before you decide to play around with my feelings and my wellbeing."

The waiter entered just at that point with a bottle of white wine. There was a tinkling silence as the waiter filled our glasses and then hurried away.

Edward rubbed his finger around the rim of the glass before bringing it to his lips and drinking, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drank.

I dropped my hands to my sides and leaned back again, my skin still tingling.

"Hurting you was never my intention," he finally said as he put down his glass, "and I'm sorry if I've ever given you the impression that I was following the contrary." He leaned forward and locked gazes with me, "When I saw you on that stage, I didn't see a dancer or a whore. I saw a girl. I saw a girl who was just trying to breathe. When I looked into your eyes, there was nothing there. A million questions went through my head," he tapped the side of his skull, smiling wanly. "What does a girl like you think, when you're up there dancing? Or with one of your clients? Or as you go to sleep at night? Do you have dreams and if yes, what are they? Are there people you miss or people you want to meet? Have you ever loved? It wasn't the same with the other girls." He tossed his hands away from his head, letting them flutter to his sides, mirroring me, "it was only you. And then when I actually got down to talking to you it was…strange, in a good way. You have this dark sense of humour, and you're eyes show that you're much older than twenty-two. Yet you sometimes blush like you're sixteen and scowl like you're four. You're…an enigma. One of those rare things in life that someone like me will never understand." He smiled, in a rather lost way, cocking his head onto one side, "I don't want to play around with you. I don't want to lead you on, or hurt you. I very much want to keep on seeing you. And…if things go that way. Or if I feel sure of my decision to free you without seeming suspicious. Then maybe one day I will buy out your contract."

The breath was sucked out of me, until I was dry on the inside.

Something different was now underneath my skin.

Not hot anger.

Not nearly that strong.

Something fluttering and delicate.

Like the wings on a dragonfly.

He gazed at me, head still cocked onto one side, "But until then, I will do everything in my power to make sure you are never hurt. I promise."

I couldn't help it. I had to get back to reality, possibly crushing the fluttering delicate thing in my chest, "Promises don't mean a lot from people like you."

He didn't look hurt. He just nodded and said, "What if I swore it on the lives of my family?"

I took a breath but yet again the waiter bringing our starters interrupted us. I was glad for it actually. It allowed me collect myself.

Once the waiter left us with our Caesar salads I finally replied, "that might do it."

Something seemed to break in those eyes of him and he grinned widely, "good."

I picked up my napkin and smoothed it across my lap, "so, I scowl like a four year old?"

He laughed and picked up his glass, proffering it for a toast, "what shall we toast to?"

I picked up my own and held it close to his. I then named the tiny fluttering thing in my chest, "to hope."

The chink of our glasses echoed.

YUSS, so glad that's done. Whatcha think? Hmm? Isn't Edward kinda adorable? Kinda scrumptious? And Bella…did you think her outburst was warranted?

Haha…Paul as a gay shopping clerk…I couldn't resist…

Leave your thoughts please! I love hearing from you and will try to reply to as many as I can.

Till next time my lovelies!

Bones x