I do not own Twilight

Sorry for the delay! As you probably know the whole burning of fanfiction has been going on and my other story Bloody Fingerprints was taken down. Being the perfectionist that I am, I had to edit all of the chapters before republishing them. Took awhile but I made it!

So here is the next chapter. Summary of what happened the last time:

1. Bella and Edward go out to lunch

2. But not before meeting the wonderfully camp Paul in Saks for a wee 'Pretty Woman' shopping spree

3. Edward and Bella discussed what their arrangement is.

Enjoy the show!

Dress shirt

"...so there he is, humping the shit out of my leg, trying to get a feel in even though he only paid for a show. And then he fucking shoots the gun! Y'understand me? He fucking came in his pants!" Those of us listening gave shocked gasps and Emerald gave a nervous giggle, her face blushing red. Jade sighed dramatically, pulling a hand through her strawberry blonde hair as she told her 'disastrous day at work' story, "he then gives me this stupid grin, like its the funniest fucking thing in the world, still humping my leg by the way, and then only tips me 4 fucking dollars. Four. Fucking. Dollars." Jade collapsed onto the couch, "they were my good stockings and I'm never gonna get the stain out. Wanker."

I patted her knee sympathetically, "could have been worse. He could have paid for another show."

Jade growled, "I'd have fucking ripped his balls off if he did. Creep."

"How often do you get clients like that?" Emerald's eyes were wide as she listened. Diamond, Opal, Topaz, Garnet and Aquamarine were also sitting with us, crowded as we were on the couch in the Rec room.

Everyone spoke in unison, "All. The. Time."

"Listen sugar," Topaz spoke with her usual matronly way, "there are four types of clients. The first, lowest and most common form is the Creeps." There was a collective shudder, "the men who live in their mother's basement. The only women they've ever been in contact with apart from family members and ourselves are the women on their screens. They need us to get laid or feel better about their lacking manhood or try out fetishes they've read about on the internet. They're societies losers. The perpetually lonely."

We murmured in agreement as Topaz continued, "second type are the Bereft. The soldiers who are mutilated in battle, the widowers who can't let go of their ex, the physically disabled. The guys which no normal girl will date. But these men, just like every guy on the planet, needs to get laid." She sighed, pulling a hand through her hair, "they're usually not too bad. You feel sorry for them to be honest. They're just looking for comfort, so they're gentle. And sometimes they cry. It depends really.

"Thirdly, are the Alpha Pigs. They're the worst. They're demanding, insensitive, selfish and dominating. They come because their wives and fiancés are too prudish or ugly to fulfil these men's greatest desires and fantasies. They reserve harsh fucking for us, basically." She eyed Em with a degree of worry in her gaze, "I just hope you don't get a particularly bad one as your first. They are never gentle. And they do not care."

Em's eyes went wide and she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her birthday was in two days. Padrona was holding a party auction on that night. The highest bidder will ultimately win her debut. So it was inevitable that she'd get an Alpha Pig, since they were the only ones who could afford it. You could only hope for one whose tastes weren't extreme.

"And finally, the rarest and most extinct form: the Saviours," she glanced around, "you guys remember that missionary that came to visit each of us."

Jade snorted, "he told me that God would forgive me of my transgressions as I gave him a blow job."

We all sniggered as Topaz continued, "ok some of them are not all Saviours. They pretend to be Saviours when they're more like Creeps. But sometimes, just sometimes, you get a genuine one." Suddenly, she leaned forward and took Emerald's hand, "just pray to God honey that you don't get one of those."

Em's eyes were so wide now, I'm surprised her eyes didn't fall out, "Why?"

"'Cause they will surely get you killed. That's what happened to the Emerald before you. She was stupid enough to get herself tangled with one. She went out to meet with him in broad daylight so they could runaway together. But they were found, middle of Central Park. He was killed. She- she was punished and killed." There was a pause and Topaz took a shuddering breath, "just promise me you'll stay away from 'em if you get one darlin', ok?"

I remained silent. As far as the others knew, Edward was a Alpha Pig. I hadn't denied it but I hadn't confirmed it either. I didn't need them to warn me. I was being careful. I wasn't going to fall in love with him or anything stupid like that. Love was a luxury I couldn't afford.

Em nodded slowly and she unravelled herself from where she had been curled up at the foot couch as she was, "any...tips, y'know? For...for the first night."

"Lube," everyone said at once.

Emerald flushed again and I explained, "it will hurt otherwise, more than it needs to. It certainly won't be pleasurable but that's better than feeling like you are about to be ripped in half."

"Put it on surreptitiously though," Diamond put in, "these men like to pretend you're enjoying it as much as they are. So that also means fake an orgasm. Y'know how?"

Em's face was a picture. It was classic.

She eventually shook her head, blushing scarlet at the subject. Diamond grinned wickedly and said, "this is how I do it." She scrunched her face into a look of mock ecstasy, lips parted, "oh...oh...OH...yes! Yes! God, yes! Holy fuck, ah! CLIENT'S NAME!"

The last part had us all giggle-snorting like 12 year old girls at a sleepover. Diamond grinned a bowed her dark head in a mock bow, imitating Elvis Presley with a: "thank you, thank you very much.

"Client's name? Seriously? My god you have problems," I sniggered.

"That was terrible," Jade declared, "You've watched too much porn. Everyone knows that porn stars fake orgasms way too much for them to make it realistic." She turned to Emerald, "trust me, its all in the gasps and grunts. Try and aim for a balance between tennis player and sprinter but gentler. Less butch. You should…orgasm in style."

Jade then proceeded to do her version of a fake orgasm, gasping and grunting prettily, her lips parted, her eyes fluttered closed.

"That was shit," Diamond accused, after Jade had finished, "far worse than mine. You sounded like a dog getting fucked."

"I did not!" Jade retorted, " you just sounded like some drunken prom date."

"Listen guys, you've got nothing on me," I said with confidence, "This is how you do it."

I rolled neck, cleared my throat and began my performance. Breathing heavily and tossing my head back, "oh…oh...oh fuck, yes! Ah fuck, YES! YES! OH…AH…" then I took a deep breath and blew the biggest raspberry possible.

The others cracked up, the earlier spat forgotten. "Well you should just become an actress, darlin'. Cause that was just beautiful," Topaz wiped her eyes as she fought her sniggers.

"Deserves an Oscar that shit," Diamond confirmed, her smile brilliantly white against her dark skin.

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" Pearl was by the kitchen island, eyeing us irritably over her Vogue magazine, "you sound like fucking chainsaws, what's your problem?"

"Discussing which ass is bigger: yours or Padrona's," Jade snarked back.

"Fuck off," Pearl snapped back, face red with anger.

"You fuck off, slut. Why don't you go fuck one of the Suits, you fucking snitch," Jade snarled, flicking Pearl the finger.

Pearl's face reddened, she spluttered before slapping her magazine closed and flouncing out the room, door slamming behind her.

Emerald was looking confusedly around at us, "wha-"

"She told on the old Emerald," Aquamarine explained quietly, "she got Emerald killed."

There was a silence.

I picked up my tea and swallowed a few gulps.

Emerald had been my friend. My mentor. My guardian. She had kept me feeling.

The day she died, I became cold. Hollow.

Topaz, ever the one to try and cheer things up, "I got this story of when I got his one client, who had a thing for feet. He asked me to get him off with my toes. It was the most strangest…"

/~*~\\\

"The fuck you dragging me out here for?" I snapped at Edward the next day, as he drove me through heaving Manhattan.

It had been two weeks since his last visit: he'd muttered something about Miami at the end of lunch the last time. So it was another surprise when he dragged me out into the blazing sunshine again on a Sunday afternoon. "I have charity shit to go to. I need a woman's opinion on my outfit," he said simply, grinning roguishly behind his sunglasses.

"Firstly, what's 'charity shit'? Secondly, I thought I was hopeless at fashion, according to you. And thirdly, are you sure its safe to take me to your place. For all you know, I could steal stuff and put graffiti on your priceless artworks and…shit." I finished lamely.

God I am witty.

"'Shit'?" he snorted, "I will tell you now, Bella darling, I live for your witty repartee."

"Suck my dick," I retorted, "answer the question."

"My mother is holding a charity Gala. Helping the kids in Africa or something like that. I need a suit befitting of the occasion. You're a woman, so you know what turns a woman on. You're gonna help me choose a suit that will have all the single women at that Gala practically tripping over themselves to get into my pants."

I stared at him, open mouthed before saying in a slightly hoarse voice, "You are incredible."

"Thank you," he said, sounding satisfied.

"I didn't mean that in a good way," I said bluntly. "You could technically fuck me, if you need to get laid. That is my original purpose."

"There's no fun in that," Edward explained, "I'm a red blooded male, I need to have the thrill of the chase, the hunt. Even if it is in in a too big hall with shit decorations, shit people, shit food and shit alcohol. You're going to help me."

I didn't take this to heart. In fact, I was incredibly glad that he didn't want to fuck me. Sex would complicate this

"Has anyone ever told you that you are seriously disturbed?" I told him, arching my eyebrow at him.

He grinned sardonically, "Many times, darling."

"You're a dick," I said bluntly.

"Charming as ever," he said just as drily.

"At least you know I tell the truth," I said, leaning back in my seat as we pulled up next to a steel and glass apartment building. Edward looked at me with an odd look on his face as the doorman from the apartment building hurried out and pulled the driver door open. "Mr Cullen, welcome back. How was Miami?"

"Hot," Edward recovered quickly, sliding out the car smoothly and I did the same, "humid. Very Cuban." He gestured to me as I came around the car, "Ivan, meet the lovely Isabella, a good friend of mine. Isabella, meet Ivan."

Ivan tipped his top hat to me, "Isabella, a pleasure."

Not sure what to do, I smiled awkwardly and have him a short wave of my hand, "Hello."

Edward took my about the waist and walked us briskly towards the entrance and into the foyer as Ivan held it open for us, "Ivan has been my doorman for how long?"

"8 years, Mr Cullen. Still seems like yesterday," the old man said amicably, smiling gently.

Edward grinned widely as we entered the foyer and headed for the elevators, "And yet we know each other so well." Edward saluted to him as the elevator doors opened and we stepped inside, "See you later, Ivan."

"And to you, Mr Cullen, Isabella," Ivan said, tipping his head again towards us as the doors closed.

"Are you always this warm and fluffy with people who don't really know you?" I asked, as Edward slotted a key into the last button and the elevator shot up the crazy amount of floors there were, "or are you bipolar?"

"What are you talking about? I'm always charming," he said innocently.

"And I'm Morgan Freeman," I said drily.

He rolled his eyes, "just shut up and tell me what to wear."

I sniggered and remained silent as we rose up.

The doors finally opened onto Edward's penthouse at the very top of the building. I was curious as to what was in Edward's apartment; maybe it would be the cliché of a bachelor pad or had pink fluffy stuff on every available surface.

But I saw none of this.

His apartment was bare. White walls, white floors and minimal furniture. As we walked in, with the open planned living room and kitchen ahead of us. The steel appliances in the kitchen looked unused, the black leather couch and TV looking like the only things ever used.

"Live here much?" I asked him, as he opened the all but empty fridge to pull out a beer for himself.

Uncapping the beer, he arched an eyebrow at me, "I have this apartment to sleep in. And maybe to watch TV. What else would I need it for?" He jerked his head in a motion for me to move, "my bedroom's this way."

"What about fucking women? How many women have you brought up here?" I asked, wandering behind him as he walked briskly out of the kitchen around the corner down an equally sparse corridor.

As we entered the equally empty bedroom. The bed was unmade, but the view of the Manhattan skyline shown through the floor to ceiling windows.

Wow.

The lowering sun gilded the skyscrapers and made the Hudson glow silver. People scuttled, gathered and scattered hundreds of feet below. There was only a sheet of plate glass keeping me from the vertical drop to the tarmac. It was thrilling. I pressed my fingertips against the cold glass as Edward answered my question, "you're the first girl I brought up here."

"Why?" I asked, my breath misting the glass.

"Well its not exactly homey," he said, as I heard him open the closet and the rustle of clothes. "And…I never trusted any of them enough to bring them up here."

I turned to him, he stood out from his closet, clothes already dumped on the bed. He looked so…isolated, standing on his own in the endless white, black slacks and a white shirt, the top two buttons undone. That seemed to be his uniform. I had never seen him with anything else. I then asked him, "So why me?"

He didn't say anything, just shrugged and buried himself into the closet again. More suits piled on top of the others already on the bed. "Alright Izzy, what should I wear?" he finally asked.

Poking his bronze head out the closet he grinned crookedly, "make yourself comfortable. Tell me when you get wet."

"You sick bastard," I said bluntly, flopping onto the bed while flicking him the finger, "I feel sorry for whoever ends up being your booty call."

"Just shut up and judge already," he grabbed the suits and held it up for inspection, one after the other.

They all looked the same to me. Maybe that one was a darker grey or that one had a thicker stripe. I eventually told him that and he sighed and said, "I always look good in Prada, I'll go for that one. Now, shirts."

"Not pink," I said instantly.

"Why?" he asked, "women like it when guys wear pink."

"Yes, when they're looking for a long term relationship," I explained, "Pink hints that you're more in touch with your feminine side. This means that you're also more likely to be dependable, long-term guy. If you're looking for a quick fuck, don't wear pink."

"Right, what colour should I wear?"

"Not blue. Overworked, suburban fathers wear blue. White means you are not taking a risk. Purple is massively camp." I thought about it for a minute, "wear a dark colour. It makes you look mysterious and slightly dangerous."

"Dark grey?" he asked, holding the particular shirt up.

I nodded in affirmation, "now you need a good pair of shoes. You can decide on that. And wear a tie. A black one."

As he gathered the things from his closet I lay back, staring up at the ceiling. It was blank, just like everything else in this apartment.

I remembered the hot air balloons and the clouds.

I hadn't thought of those in years.

I sucked air through my teeth and my eyes stung.

The fuck?

"Bella? You ok?"

I jolted back up and stared at Edward, who was crouched by the end of the bed, "nothing, its fine. Just reminiscing."

Which I shouldn't be doing. Really shouldn't be doing.

"About what?" he asked. His hand suddenly reached out and brushed his fingers across my knuckles.

It sent another wave of snapping warmth and it made me blurt out the truth, "I miss my mom."

He seemed to freeze up, his eyes focused on me. "Your mom?"

I smiled tightly, wishing I hadn't said anything, "before she became all fucked up by Phil."

"Phil?"

All these gentle questions. They were fucking with my head.

"Oh fuck off," I said brusquely, getting up off the bed and walked to the window, pressing my forehead against the glass, looking at Manhattan and its unaware people.

I know absolutely nothing about men's fashion. I kinda winged it there.

So a bit of a look at life in the brothel… I enjoyed writing that. I've always thought that when people are in a shit situation, they tend to use humour. I'm not sure if that is right for all situations but I'm pretty sure it's all right here.

Okily-dokily, thank you for being so patient! Thank you for all your reviews and alerts, they're awesome to see!

Until next time!

Bones

P.S. I've started this thing of random facts at the end of chapters…I don't care that this is mid-story I'm going to start it here anyway.

Random Fact # 1: I had wisdom teeth out today. I feel like a hamster.