CHAPTER SEVEN.

BELLA.

"Squeeze... fuck... shit...OW!"

"Stop complaining and put the damn dress on."

I spun round to my best friend in a flurry, "don't you think that is what I am trying to do?!" Turning back to the mirror I pulled on the waist of the dress in attempt to make some extra room. "It's these damn... sequins and... uh!" I collapsed on my bed. I had had enough of the whole scenario.

"Lord Jeebus, it's only a dress."

I sat up with a huff and reached for the glass of wine by my bed. "I can't believe you chose not to go." We're meant to do this as a team. Yeah, real team work.

"Chose not to go? B, the dinner is for managers only."

Bitch say what? I turned back to Angela in horror. "What do you mean it's only for managers?! It has never been like that." And why am I going?

"Well the rules have changed this year. No other PA's are attending, B."

"Then why...?" Bossman better say goodbye to his balls. 'Cause I'mma going to need earrings to go with this dress.

"Are you that stupid?"

My arms were folded tight under my tits. That was one thing I loved about this dress - they added at least a cup size. My puppies have never looked so good. But forget about that, I was still pissed. "I'm not going then. Fuck him."

Angela reached for her own glass, "that's just the wine talking, babe."

"This is only my second glass. But I'll need a second bottle now."

"Oh now don't be a pussy!" She belched loudly in a fist. "'Scuse me. Take this opportunity to be a lady for a night, B."

"A lady? Ha! I wouldn't be surprised if I pulled down my pants and found a dick." The two of us cracked up laughing and happily poured another glass of wine. With only thirty minutes before Bossman said he'd arrive with his driver, Ang got started on my hair. Because of the glisten from the sequins that made up my dress, apparently I didn't need jewelry, and according to the expert it was better if I left my hair down, then tied it up. Ang gathered the sides of my hair and clasped it at the back with a bobby pin. She added some grey sparkly shit to my eyes, along with mascara and eyeliner, but that was it.

I still had ten minutes, and with some wine left in the bottle, it would have been rude not to finish it, right? I spent good money on that shit. And I needed the liquid confidence for a night with my new friend Carlisle, and all his flying monkeys.

There was a loud rap rap rap on my front door at precisely six-thirty. I performed some awkward shimmy-push-up maneuver to emphasis the puppies, downed the last quarter of wine, gave myself one last pep talk, and went to answer it.

"Remember B," Angela looked me firmly in the eyes, "you are a strong, independent woman and you don't need a man to complete you."

"Thanks Dr. Phil; I feel so much better about myself."

"Now, go get him!" She all but pushed me out the room. I stumbled slightly on the skyscrapers that were attached to my feet, but caught myself on the wall before my ass could make contact with the ground. On answering the door, I placed one hand seductively on my hip and pushed out my tits more. I had a slight feeling the wine had started to take affect already. That must have been some crazy ass strong stuff. Oops.

"Woah." Edward stood there in all his manly glory, wearing a dark grey suit with a pale grey shirt and no tie. His eyes took me all in. "Maybe you can polish a turd after all."

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Dick.

"You better like it, 'cause you paid for it." Roberto Cavalli is not cheap. Let me tell you.

"Oh, I like it alright."

I'm sure you do, you dirty bastard.

But to be fair, it was a sexy dress. Black lace, sequins, a halter neck and a thick leather belt in the middle to slim it all in. It itched in the wrong places and I don't know how I'll get out of it, but for over seven-thousand dollars that was not something you complain about.

"This is a very important night, Isabella." We were seated side-by-side in the back of his car. Bossman had appeared and turned serious all of a sudden. "I don't want to regret bringing you along." When he spoke next, it sounded more like he was talking to himself. "Nicholas Brandon's daughter will be there - she missed the past two. Apparently she just got married; it would be nice to see her new husband."

Cool story, Bro; tell me more.

Finally (after what seemed like a year) we pulled up to the grand hotel this shindig took place in. A red carpet ran up the path and to the doorway where two guardsman stood proud. I had to remind myself that the majority of people in that building were sophisticated old farts who wiped their ass with fifties. I couldn't go about my usual behavior - I needed to blend in. To begin with, I linked my arms with Bossman's and pouted my lips as much as I could.

"Oh, Edward, this is simply spectacular!" I don't know why that came out in a poor British accent, but it did anyway.

"Bella..."

"I'm trying to blend in." I whispered.

The room was alive and full of people all different shapes, sizes, accents and age. "Do you see that balding man to your left?" Edward whispered, discretely pointing to said balding man. When I found who he meant I spotted the obvious gut that bulged over his pants, then the glass in his hand that he sipped from lightly. He was in mid-conversation with a tall blonde in a gold dress.

"That is Gregory Brandon - Nicholas' brother. He fought tooth and nail to take over NY after my father; but Rose and I beat him to it."

"Aah, so he could have been my Bossman?"

We shared a smile, "he could have been, yes. But I think we both know I'm the only one who'll ever be your Bossman."

I got the tingles in a silly place...

0-0

The drinks were flowing like piss from a race horse, and my fragile state at home only continued to get worse. When an attractive young waiter offers your a glass of champagne - free champagne - you accept it. But in accepting that, you must accept what is more than likely to happen. I was carted around the hotel with Edward constantly holding onto my arm. He stopped to speak business with people and I smiled politely like the sensible woman I tried to be.

I knew exactly what to say if someone asked me whether I enjoyed the champagne. "A little below par for my liking," but if they asked me anything else I was fucked.

Through the noise of the crowd I could hear the weasely voice of Michael Newton - CEO of B&C Houston and the biggest flirt the Lord ever made. I imagined him greeting me with a "Oh heeey there, lil' lady!" (is that what Texans' say?) Then continue with a 'whose dick is bigger' contest between himself and Bossman. So a way to end that before it began, I politely made my escape to run from Mr. Newton. Edward was mid-conversation with a older lady in a sapphire dress. I recognized her face, but nothing else.

"Do excuse me," I tapped his arm gently - my voice had, again, taken on a British tone. "I must take a trip to the ladies room." I didn't realize how unsteady I was on my feet until I had to walk I didn't fall, but I had to catch myself often.

After relieving myself of the force in my bladder, I stumbled back to Edward who, once again, had a different stranger in mid-conversation. This lady was petite - very petite - and had slipped her annoyingly thin waist into a silky yellow thing. She had jet black hair styled in a curled bob and reminded me of Rizzo from 'Grease'. From what it seemed - she had a thing with touching Edward's chest with her fucking manicured claws. Both were laughing. I didn't see what was so funny.

I sensed the two would have wanted a moment alone, and so I slipped past them subtly without being noticed. "Bella?" Fuck. I got noticed. I tried to act like his calling had gone unheard, but Bossman knew me too well, and knew I had heard him.

"Yes?" Everything inside of me wanted to ignore her roaming hands.

"Are you okay?" He looked concerned.

Like I fucking care.

I waved a two fingered salute, "I'm awesome, Bossman."

Rizzo giggled a girly laugh.

Shut it, bitch.

"I want to introduce you to someone."

I'm not interested in meeting your new fuck buddy, Boss.

Instead, I need wine. Lots and lots of wine.

"Bella this is Alice Brandon. Alice, this is Isabella Swan."

Brandon? Great, so not only was Rizzo his new bit on the side, her father was Bossman's other Bossman. Excellent.

"Edward it's Whitlock now, remember?" She wiggled her ring finger and the glistening rock that sat snug upon it.

She's also married...

Hmm... Angela always told me I judged things too quickly.

"Of course, how could I forget. Is the lucky man here, tonight?"

When I knew she was married and not wishing to wiggle her way into Edward's bed, I saw the two of them in a completely different light. They were simply friends having a catch up after not seeing each other in a long while. Rizzo (or, Alice I suppose) wasn't flirting; she was touching his chest. That was it.

Honestly Bella, you're such a tit sometimes.

"And Isabella," She jolted me from my deep thoughts. "What is it you do?"

I was in the middle of thinking up some upper-class answer, like: 'well on the days that I'm not taking the children to their classical piano class, I'm on trips to Venice in my largest yacht.' until Edward interrupted. "Be yourself, Bella." He spoke loud enough for us both to hear him.

Be myself, you say? I'd regret that if I were you, Boss.

"I wipe his ass." I spluttered and pointed at him sternly. "And drag him from the shit when he gets in it."

Alice burst into laughter. "I like you, Miss Swan."

"I think Isabella has enjoyed more than her fair share of alcohol."

I smiled sweetly up at him with a flutter of my lashes, "I'm just being myself, Edward. Like you said."

Again Alice laughed, "we're going to be best friends; I can see it now!" After our brief conversation, Alice left us to find her husband so we could be introduced. With twenty minutes still to go before we sat down to eat, we continued on with our steady walk around the crowd.

"So, what do you we do at this shindig?" I asked, sipping on yet another glass of champagne. I had lost count how many I had had.

"Well, soon we'll go through to the dining room where we'll have toasts and speeches, then we eat and finish the night with a dance."

A dance? My ears perked up. "What type of dance? I'm fucking superb at the TimeWarp. I own that shit."

But it's the pelvic thru-u-ust. That really drives you insa-a-a-a-ne...

Bossman laughed, "I doubt they'll play that song."

Damn. "What about the Macarena?"

0-0

I was pleased to know that we hadn't been given certain seats and you could choose where you sat and who next to. Alice begged for us to sit beside her and Jasper (the poor guy she married). Princess Cullen - much to my dismay - also chose our table. I hadn't noticed until that moment that she had brought a date with her. Macho Man Muscles - who I later found out was actually called Emmett - had somehow squeezed his incredibly broad body into a tux.

"I didn't realize Ms. Swan had been invited, Edward? Had I known I would have brought Ms. Weber." Rosalie knew exactly what she was doing.

"That is none of your concern, Rose. You didn't hear me say anything about your date."

So... am I his date...?

Princess squeezed Macho Man's giant arm. "Oh, baby brother; Emmett and I have been official for over a month now."

Whoopty fucking do, Basil.

"And how do you know Isabella and I aren't official?"

Shut up, Bossman.

"Because I know your type."

Er, excuse me? Bitch say what?

My next words slipped through the invisible filter. "In actual fact, this is our one week anniversary. Isn't that right, Eddie-kins?"

Shut up, Bella.

"And what a week it has been." He swooned. His eyes met mine in a loving gaze. We held it for a beat too long.

*Cough* Anyway... carry on.

"Do you know what you wish to order, love?"

Okay, Boss, we're done playing that game now.

Wine...

WHERE'S THE WINE GONE?!

Now, there was a problem with the menu. It was all in French. The only French food I know is french fries. That accompany a McDonalds burger. How was I supposed to know what anything was?

"Psst." I nudged Edward with my elbow. "What is 'Salmon Fume Maison Oeuf Poche'?" I picked the first meal I came across.

"Smoked salmon with a poached egg." He replied with a snigger.

"Thank you. And what is..." I peered down at the main courses. "Canard?"

"Duck."

Magret de Canard...

"Why the fuck do they have a duck called Margaret? Margaret the Duck?"

Everyone at the table started to laugh, apart from Princess, "what an embarrassment." She said with the shake of her head.

Fine. I'll show her. I don't need Bossman's help.

Next on the menu was: Raviolis De Champignons.

Well, ravioli is ravioli - simple. And champignons is... champagne? champagne ravioli? Meh, I'm sure it'll be fine.

But it wasn't fine. "Eurgh it's got mushrooms in it!" I complained, picking at the shriveled black things with my fork. "They look like dead slugs."

"Well of course it does, it's mushroom ravioli you idiot!" Princess spat.

"Rose!" Edward leant in to me and rubbed my bare shoulder. His touch made me shiver. "I think it would be best if you stayed quiet."

Don't I feel two feet tall...

And if Edward wanted me to stay quiet? Then I would. But to keep my mouth busy, I went for the unlimited alcohol. And one cannot stay quiet after drinking their weight in free wine.

"Y'know what I've noticed, Bossward?" *Hiccup* "Everyone is old here. Like, it's fucking Jurrasic Park. Look! A T-Rex! Oh wait, that's just your sister." I cracked up laughing at my own joke and slapped his upper arm playfully.

Everyone was quiet, apart from Alice. She was giggling into Hubby's shoulder. And all was fine, until a bubbly feeling was felt down below followed by a quick burst of air. "I just farted." I said with a straight face. Alice completely lost her shit, followed by Macho Man Emmett. "Christ and it stinks!"

Must have been that oeuf poche.

"Edward! Get her out of here!"

Edward didn't reply to the T-Rex but he did listen to her, 'cause all of a sudden he had my arm and was trying to pull me from my seat.

"But we haven't had the dance yet! Let's do the TimeWarp aga-a-a-a-in!"

"Maybe when we get back, yeah?" He compromised. Or, attempted to.

"Are you gonna do the pelvic thrust, Bossman?"

His stern lips broke into a smile. "If you're lucky."

0-0

The car journey home was long, and every time we stopped suddenly I felt like I was going to hurl.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night, Bossman." I had my head against his shoulder. His arm was wrapped around me and rubbed soothing circles on my waist.

"Don't worry about it. I hate those things anyway." I believed him; he sounded sincere. But the drunk in me had to double check.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I don't want you to hate me."I wanted to look up and see his expression, but I was too comfortable where I was.

"I could never hate you, Bella."

"And apparently we're now dating?" I hate wine. It makes me say stupid things.

"Apparently so. Rosalie believed us anyway."

"She did?" I lurched up in surprise. The motion had me groaning and clutching my throbbing head. Edward settled me back down. "How did she believe that?" I asked once the motion sickness had vanished.

"I don't know, but she did anyway."

"That'll be a fun one to explain."

"It will..." He mused. "Then again, we could keep the secret going and see if she catches on?"

"Why would we do that?" For once, something sensible left my mouth!

"For fun. I say it'll take her... three weeks to realize we were joking."

Ooh, I like the sound of this game!

"You're on! I say two weeks."

His laugh rumbled through his chest. "Okay, and whoever loses has to buy dinner."

"But you have Siobhan to make the food for you." Why would you buy dinner?

"No, I mean the loser has to take the winner out for a meal and pay for it."

"Fine. Be prepared to lose, Bossman."

"Ooh, Isabella. I think I'm going to win either way."

0-0

You sneaky little shit, Bossman.

For a collage and picture of Bella's dress, head on over to my Facebook group - RosieRathbone FanFiction.

Thoughts?

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