Tanya breathes deeply and straightens her shoulders. "Of course, Edward," she states, her tone impassive. She turns. "Bella, I hope you've found what you needed here today. I'll leave you in Edward's capable hands."
Looking Tanya in the eye and smiling directly at her, I say, "Tanya, I apologize if I seemed rude just now. I have a deadline to meet, and I'm stressed. I publish a newsletter for Dress for Success, an organization I'm passionately committed to, and I would hate to let down the women who depend on me."
"After all, we women need to stick together, don't we?" I ask.
She smiles back. "Indeed we do," she says.
I stare at Edward as Tanya retreats. He has taken in our interaction like the spectator at a tennis match, and he appears stunned and confused. Men. How have they run the world for so long? He tilts his head as he gazes at me, questions lurking behind his eyes.
"Are we done here, Edward?" I ask, keeping my tone friendly, but neutral.
His brows furrow. He stammers a little as he responds, "Well yes, Bella, but I don't like the word 'done' after the 'we.' Please take my card."
He pushes an Apple-logo scrap over the Bar. It reads, "Edward Cullen, Genius." His cell number is handwritten at the bottom.
