A/N: So, I apologize for the long wait…yes. And, you know that phone call I promised? Hahaha. Just kidding. It's next chapter. Most likely. Soonish. Eventually.
Secondly, when I was referring to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I meant the book. I saw the movie as well, and…they could have done a lot worse of a job, I think. But, yeah. Just wanted to clear that up.
Thirdly, thanks to everyone for giving me their opinion about what genres I should put this story in. I've gotten a pretty much 50 / 50 response, but more in favor of Romance / Humor. So, that is what this shall become. However, if you are really strongly opposed to that, just review with your reasoning, and who knows? I might change it.
I own nothing but the plot.
Chapter 8
"Yes?" I said, trying to disguise the fear in my voice. After all, what did I have to fear? Victoria couldn't actually see the fact that my knuckles looked like they were splashed with whitewash, or that my eyes had hardened and tightened in my face. She couldn't possibly know that my feet were clenched and my knees locked.
So why was I so worried?
"Bella…" was that disappointment that I heard in her voice? Was she disappointed in me? Did she know that I had seen Edward? Had Lauren told her? God forbid—have she somehow contacted Tyler? Were they talking?
"Yes?" I said, probably over-anxiously. But I deserved to be a little anxious. I could, after all, lose my job.
"I noticed you're not here today—obviously, since I'm calling your home—but I was wondering if perhaps your being absent was a result of Edward."
"W…what?" I gripped the phone so tightly I thought it might break.
"If he's really such a bad employer that you can't stand working for him, which I would completely understand, then I can try to switch your position or talk to him…"
I breathed a sigh of relief. This was much better than I had expected. "Oh, no," I said, taking a deep breath, "no, I'm…I'm just, you know, going to suck it up…tough it out…"
"Oh." She sounded strangely…disappointed? "Oh, well, if you really feel that way…"
"Uh, yeah, I do," I said hurriedly. "You know, the good pay and all…"
"But Bella…" she gave a nervous laugh. "God, I don't know how to say this…"
"Yes?" She did know, didn't she? She knew, she knew, I was going to be fired, Lauren told her, she knew…
"How about…becoming my secretary?"
Okay, not what I was expecting. "Er…what?"
She laughed again. "Yeah, I was expecting that reaction. It's just, I've noticed what a wonderful job you've been doing with Edward, and, honestly, your work is far superior to that of my secretary…"
"Who's your secretary?" I asked quickly.
She sighed, and I heard the rustling of papers in the background. "Lauren."
Dear God.
This was a problem.
"Don't worry about the workload," she said hurriedly, as if she anticipated a 'No', "I assure you that I hardly give any more than Edward, and I'm a tad more reasonable, if I do say so myself…"
But I liked Edward now. At least, I could tolerate him. No, more than that—I was infatuated with him.
I grimaced. Stupid, stupid me.
Victoria continued. "The pay is twice as much, so, you'd get two perks, am I right? And, between you and me," her voice now became conspiratorial, "I've been meaning to fire Lauren for a while now."
"I…oh." Words wouldn't come out. I didn't know what to do.
Twice the pay, better work, a higher position, subordinate to a woman that I highly respected…revenging myself on Lauren for all of the pain she caused me…
Who could pass up an offer like that?
But on the other hand…there was Angela, Laurent, Emmett and Rose…who could guarantee I would see them after switching positions?
And there was Edward.
Edward.
Obnoxious, rude, conceited, arrogant, wonderful, kind, beautiful, helpful, fantastic Edward. Edward my boss. Edward my friend. Edward my caregiver, Edward my roommate's brother…Edward the one I just might be falling in love with.
Would it be too suspicious to refuse the job? Would she catch on? And, if I did accept it, would Lauren end up telling her all about the breakfast date? Would it mean that I would never be able to hold a job at Murich and Co. at all? Did Lauren even deserve to have her job taken away from her? Without employment, she would be entirely dependent on Tyler.
I would never wish that fate on anyone.
"I…" my voice was hesitant. "I…Victoria, I'll have to think about it."
She took in a deep breath—I could practically hear the frown in her voice. "Alright, I wasn't going to tell you this, but…I would get out of there while you can, Bella. I like you. I don't want to see you in trouble."
"In trouble?" I asked. What on earth did she mean?
"Look, I…just, I think Edward might like you. A lot. And there's only so long you can resist, Bella. And once you stop resisting, well…think it over."
And she hung up.
I gulped and hurried over to my closet, tossing out some clothes and a pair of shoes. I had to get to work. I had to get to work now. I needed to talk to somebody about this…and I needed to talk to them face-to-face. The most ideal person would be Alice, but since she wasn't here…
I slipped on the clothes and dashed out the bedroom door, shoving my feet into my shoes as I fumbled with the keys that lay on the kitchen counter. I hurriedly put on my coat, fiddling with the lock and jiggling with the handle until it opened with a bang.
I needed to talk to someone. Badly. And the only person I could think of was Rosalie Cullen.
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I tapped my foot impatiently in the elevator, glancing at my watch even though I knew it hadn't moved a millimeter. I was breathing quickly in and out my nose, a habit I had picked up when I got the flu at age twelve—whenever I was sick (in this case, food poisoning), that was my immediate reaction. It annoyed Alice to no end.
My eyes flicked to the lit button—floor number 20. Why was the ride taking so long? Why couldn't it go faster? I glanced at my watch again. Nine twenty-two A.M. and thirty-nine seconds. Practically the same as five seconds ago.
I sighed in relief when I finally heard the ding that signaled my ride had come to an end. I practically flipped out of the elevator when it finally shuddered to a halt, catapulting down the hallway.
"Hey, what's the big idea?" Jessica asked, pursing her lips at me as I zoomed right and down the hall towards the Cullen wing. At least it was close to the front desk. "Swan?" she called. "I swear to God, if you're doing anything wrong I am so telling Mr. Cullen—"
"Oh, shove it," I muttered under my breath before pushing the door open. A wave of dizziness passed over me, and for a moment I paused…but then I remembered my predicament. I shook my head and kept going forward—I had to keep moving.
Of course, it was just my luck that the door to my office happened to be opening, and I could see Edward's copper-colored head poking out. He was exiting, and if he saw me—I shuddered. Hell hath no fury like an angry boss.
"Crap," I whispered, quickly scanning the room for a hiding place. "Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap…" If he saw me while knowing that I was sick, I could only imagine his reaction. And it involved yelling. And with the headache that I had…I wasn't really looking forward to that. So my best option was to conceal myself.
I quickly dashed across the room to the main desk—I had learned fairly early on that it was just for show; how could it serve any real purpose when there was no one to sit behind it and actually do anything?—and ducked behind it.
As I crouched beneath it, I could hear Edward speaking to someone, his smooth voice polite and reserved. Did the fact that my heart started beating wildly in my chest show how deep my feelings went?
"Mr. Lawrence," he said, "I'm very sorry for everything that Jacob Black did to your company…if there's anything else I can do to help, please, inform me…"
"You can do the best damn job of landing that damned fool in a prison cell, Cullen," the voice said. I was surprised at how cold it sounded. I badly wanted to look over the desk to see the face that the voice belonged to—unfortunately, in the interest of remaining alive, I had to confine myself to merely listening. It was infuriating.
"Trust me, my secretary and I are working on the double about the case. We have enough evidence piled up against him to make him pay quite a hefty fine."
The voice was impatient now. "Fine? Fine? I don't want money. I want jail time. I want ten years behind bars. Do you know how set back we are? Do you know how much time has been wasted because of the damage he and those damn Quileute fools did? I don't want any damn money, I want punishment."
My eyebrows rose—so this was the man who had put up the charges against Jacob. He was the head of Matherson Incorporations—he was the person who was trying to make the strip mall. I already didn't like him.
Edward's voice was soothing, trying to calm the man down. "Mr. Lawrence, I assure you, I will do the best I can. As I said, my secretary and I—"
"By the way, where is your secretary?" the man said. "I'd like to meet her. She must be a looker, eh, to be working with a guy like you?"
I frowned. Stupid, sexist pig. Talking about me like a piece of meat.
"Oh, no," Edward said quickly, "she's hideous. Absolutely ugly. You would have no interest in her."
I scowled. That was even worse. "Idiot," I said beneath my breath. Though I did start to feel slightly self-conscious—did he honestly think that?
The man chuckled. "Sounds to me as if someone's a bit protective."
"W-what?" Edward said, sounding slightly nervous. "No, trust me, she's positively awful looking."
The man snorted. "Alright. I'll see her sooner or later."
I rolled my eyes. I certainly wasn't looking forward to that.
"Of course, Mr. Lawrence," Edward said smoothly, and I heard the click of a door, signaling that he had exited. I breathed a sigh of relief and tentatively peeked over the edge of the desk. The coast was clear. I cautiously slipped out from underneath the black wood and tiptoed over to Angela's door, knocking lightly.
"Wait one second!" I heard her call from inside. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Angela," I said. "Bella."
"Oh!" she sounded relieved. "Oh, well, you won't mind then."
I was confused. "Mind what?"
She swung the door open, what I saw inside making me gasp. Inside of the room was seated an Asian man rummaging through a small brown briefcase. Though he was seemingly occupied, he sported the same wacky grin that was now gracing Angela's face—I had seen that look before between Jasper and Alice, Rosalie and Emmett, and now…Edward and I. No wonder she was so nervous. Her hands were twisting together as her eyes carefully scanned my face to gauge my reaction.
"This," she said slowly, "is Ben. He…he works under Mr. Lawrence, and so he came here today, and…" her eyes flicked to the side slightly to check that he wasn't listening. "And I think I might have found the love of my life," she said in a hurried whisper under her breath, so low that I could barely even hear it.
"Wonderful," I said softly in reply. "I just need to see Rosalie for a second—would that be okay?"
She nodded happily. "She ended her meeting with Emmett earlier this morning, so I'm pretty sure she's free…"
I blushed lightly. I was pretty sure I knew what the meeting had been about. "Great. Fantastic." Another wave of nausea passed over me, and I grimaced, clutching my stomach.
"Are you alright?" she raised her eyebrows concernedly. "I mean, you can come back later…" her eyes flicked to Ben again.
"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "No, I'm fine…just some stomach problems, really, it's nothing…"
She looked doubtfully at me. "Well, if you say so…" she then added quickly and quietly, "Take your time, alright? I'm trying to get to know Ben better." That same goofy grin slid onto her face again.
"Good luck," I said sincerely, slipping past her and power-walking to the next door. "I'll see you in…an hour? A half hour? Something like that."
She nodded and giggled. "Great. Sounds perfect."
I smiled. She was right—it did sound perfect. Then I opened Rosalie's door and walked inside.
The blonde bombshell was lounging behind her desk, typing on her Mac computer while checking what was on the screen with a document she had placed to the right of her keyboard. What surprised me most was that she was wearing a pair of glasses—since when had she worn glasses?
"Yes?" she said, sounding bored, not even looking up, "Do you need something?'
"Rosalie," I breathed out, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as I was hit with another wave of nausea. "I need help."
"Bella?" I snapped my eyes open only to find her gazing at me worriedly, her right hand delicately placing her glasses farther down on her angular nose. "Are you alright?"
I smiled slightly and tipped my head to the side, ignoring the question. "I didn't know you wore glasses."
She chuckled wryly. "Most people don't. They give me a, uh, confidence boost, if you will." She gracefully stood up, brushing off her immaculate black pants. "People seem to think I'm smarter with glasses on. I like to thing that it helps them to focus more on my intellect."
I nodded. "Alright."
She quickly changed subjects. "But what about you, Bella? What do you need help with? You look awful."
I arched one eyebrow. "Thanks."
She rolled her eyes and carefully slid off her glasses. "You know what I mean."
"Well," I said slowly—suddenly, this didn't seem like such a good idea. "It's kind of complicated."
"I've got as much time as you need," she said serenely, sitting back down in her seat and gesturing at the chair on the other side of the desk. "Please, take a seat."
"Okay," I took a deep breath and walked over to the chair, sliding into it with a sigh. "So, say, hypothetically, that there was a girl."
Rosalie smiled. "Is her name Bella?"
"No," I said quickly, "No, it's...it's Abigail. And, say, she fell in love with…the President of the United States. Or someone really, really important."
Rosalie coughed.
I continued. "And say she was just his secretary. And say she knew the scandal that would happen in the media if she, say, screwed around with him. Like, he might be impeached. Or she might be impeached. Or something along those lines."
Rosalie nodded sagely. "Of course. And would this president be called Edward?"
"No!" I said hotly, blushing a deep red. "No! His name is Phil."
She snickered. "Fine. Abigail and…Phil."
"So, say Phil also fell in love with Abigail and they…they really liked one another. But Phil was a complete and total idiot, and he didn't even try to contemplate the fact that Abigail could lose her job if anyone found out about them…" I realized I was rambling and quickly ended with, "So yeah. What would you do?"
She sighed and placed her hands together, fingertip to fingertip. "Well," she drawled, "since you're so enamored with Edward, I would just get the whole damn thing over with and date him already."
I blushed. "We were talking about Abigail. And Phil."
She nodded. "Right. So, you should just be with Edward. Don't worry about Victoria."
I blushed even deeper. "It's more complicated than that."
"Of course," she muttered. "With Edward, it always is…"
"I…Victoria offered me the position of her secretary, and, well…"
Rosalie clapped excitedly. "Well, that's absolutely perfect!"
I shook my head. "No, no it's not…it would mean that I would have to take Lauren's position, but knowing that she would then have to rely on my crazy stalker ex, which, believe me, I do not recommend…" I took a deep breath. "And she saw me on a breakfast date with Edward, so if I take her job then I won't even be able to have a job, because she'll tell Victoria and I'll be fired anyways…" I decided not to mention that I also didn't want to be away from Edward for that long. It sounded pitiful, but it was the truth.
She frowned. "You're right. That's complicated."
I leaned back in my chair and tipped my head backwards to stare at the ceiling. "So what should I do?" I asked, my voice sounding subdued. "Should I just…pretend we never happened? Because I don't think I'm that good of an actress."
"Yes, and Edward wears his heart on his sleeve," Rosalie murmured in agreement.
"I also don't think I can really accept Victoria's offer, because she'll see right through me…she'll figure it out…I'm completely stuck!"
Rosalie nodded contemplatively. She then snapped her fingers with an, "Ah-ha! I've got it!"
"Yes?" I said eagerly. "What is it?"
"Transfer to my department!" she said excitedly. "Angela can switch to Edward's secretary, and you can switch to me…and it'll be great. I'll just tell Victoria that I offered you this when I met you since Angela wanted to get a change of scenery or something like that," she waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, the details aren't particularly important. I'll just talk the whole thing over with Angela, and you'll be all set."
I grinned. "That's absolutely wonderful, Rose! Thank you so, so much!"
She shrugged. "It's the least I could do for you, Bella. I really like you, almost as much as my brother-in-law does…" she chuckled softly. "He's really crazy about you, did you know that? Every day for the past week he's come home with the most idiotic expression on his face." Her voice became wistful. "It was the same look I had when I first met Emmett." She then became business-like again. "Anyway, that's not really the point. Keep your job for about a week or so more—it shouldn't be that difficult—and then we'll be able to switch you. I've got to give Victoria notice or something like that first…" she rolled her eyes as if to say, 'What can I do?'
I couldn't keep the smile off of my face. It was just too perfect. "Rosalie, I don't know what to say…I just…this is amazing."
She laughed. "No worries. I'll call her now. Just go head off to Edward or something."
My eyes widened. Edward. Right. I had completely forgotten about him—he was going to throw a hissy fit knowing that I was working while sick.
"Hey!" Rosalie said suddenly, frowning. "Aren't you supposed to be sick? Edward called last night, he was so worried…" she narrowed her eyes at me. "You shouldn't even be here!"
"Oh, well, thanks," I said quickly, stumbling out of my seat and towards the door. "Really great, all that help and…help," I fumbled with the knob before slipping out with a sigh of relief. I turned to find Angela and Ben engaged in a staring contest, giving me an eerie reminder of Alice and Jasper. It looked like they were communicating something incredibly important to one another, their gazes were so intense.
I sighed and hurried past them, not wanting to disturb their "moment". I walked over to my office and massaged my temple, slumping into my chair with a groan. My headache was just getting worse. And my stomach…I didn't even want to think about it. But my chair was very comforting in my time of need, and, before I knew it, I had dozed off.
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When I woke up, the first thing I saw was green.
It was a familiar green. A dark green, an electric green. An Edward green.
And, unsurprisingly enough, it was an angry green.
"Glad to see you're up," he hissed, his eyes narrowed.
I yawned in response and sat up slightly in my chair, rubbing my eyes with the back of my wrist. I blinked in surprise—I was sitting in the inquisition chair, yet again, and Edward was behind his desk, fingertips pressed as firmly together as his smooth, pale lips.
"Hi," I said drowsily. "How'd I get in here? Not that it's exactly a surprise, you know…" I lovingly patted my seat. "Good to see my old friend again."
He ignored me, and continued to quietly steam on the other side of the desk like a bubbling volcano (or pot of broccoli, take your pick). It didn't take a genius to figure out he was going to explode.
"Can you explain," he seethed, "exactly why you are here?"
I yawned again. "Actually, that was my question. And if neither of us have the answer, then why even ask it?"
"No," he said angrily. "I mean why you're in this building."
I looked at him skeptically. "Would you rather me be in another building?"
"Yes," he said furiously, "like your apartment building. You know, where you live?"
"Oh," I said, feigning disinterest. "That building. Yeah, well, surprise! Here I am. Ready for work."
He gave me a look of supreme disgust. "You are in absolutely no condition to work, Isabella."
Damn him. Using my full name. I glared. "I am perfectly fine, Edward. But thanks for your concern."
"It's completely justified. You are, after all, suffering from food poisoning. Or, should I say," at this his voice became mocking, "the 24-hour flu?"
I disliked his cocky attitude. So, of course, I said something stupid—I can't help myself, it's a natural tendency. "Well, you know what, Edward? I dragged my butt down here because I have a problem. And you know what? That problem is you." I scowled and mentally added, 'And Victoria…'
His eyes shut so far that they became two thin, glimmering slits. I blinked—it was an "I'm-a-dangerous-animal-hear-me-roar" look. I frowned when I realized that I found it strangely attractive.
I coughed and squirmed uncomfortably in my seat as he said in a soft, vicious whisper, "You think you have problems? You are a problem. You want to know why? Because you are so completely stubborn. You don't see yourself clearly, either. You accuse me of making assumptions, but you're always the one assuming everything. And you're so, so confusing! You say you'll stay home, then you don't, then you're mad, then you're angry, then you're…you're…" he took a deep breath of air.
"Why'd you just describe yourself?" I said acidly.
He growled.
Again, did most people growl? I would just have to ask Alice.
"You, Isabella, are completely infuriating," he said, eyes still narrowed to the extreme.
"Well, you're completely aggravating," I mimicked.
He made a face at me. "And a very important client, Mr. Lawrence, came today. I told him you and I were working diligently on the Jacob Black case. But then when I come back to the office with him, I find you snoozing in a chair."
I blushed. It was a good thing I hadn't been awake, because that would have been awkward—I actually did remember Edward telling that chauvinistic man that I had been working hard…I blushed even deeper. Catching me sleeping must have really embarrassed him. And, I didn't know why, but the thought of Edward being ashamed of me…my insides twisted into knots.
"Sorry," I whispered, instantly filled with humility. Not that I was going to let him off that easily for completely insulting me, but I could understand why he had lost his temper so easily.
He sniffed and reclined slightly in his chair, backing down. His animalistic side was slowly disappearing. "Well, I hope you're happy that he was simply amused with the whole debacle," Edward said grudgingly.
I couldn't help smirking just a little bit. "Oh, why? Because I'm, 'Such a looker?'" I used air quotes to mimic the voice of Mr. Lawrence.
Edward raised his eyebrows at me. "Nice impression. You were awake the whole time, then?"
I simply shrugged. "Nope. A girl just has her ways."
He snorted. "Of course. But, at least…" he sighed. "At least he wasn't angry, which was…good." He glared at me once more. "But don't let it happen ever again. Never. Do you understand me?"
I nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry." And I was. Just probably not as much as I should have been.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of the nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Just…just go home, Bella. You need to rest."
I shook my head stubbornly. "Nope, I'm already here. And, you know, I need to get work done." Besides, it gets kind of lonely at my apartment. You know, me being the only one there constantly. At least here I have some companionship, even if it has to be merely professional.
But I didn't say that.
He then said something unintelligible, leaning back even further in his chair.
"What?" I asked, tipping my head to the side. Anything he said was important to me, especially now that I felt the need to make up for my behavior towards him.
He slowly raised his head to look me straight in the eye. He seemed dazed for a moment, but quickly recovered by saying, "If you must."
I smiled. "I must."
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I leaned over Jessica's desk, searching futilely for the blonde-haired bimbo. I was starting to wonder if she did this on purpose—it couldn't have been merely coincidence that she was never here when I came to call. The timing was just too perfect.
"Urgh," I groaned and pounded on the desk with a fist. "Where the hell is she?"
"Looking for Jessica?" I snapped around and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, hey, Angela," I said happily, smiling weakly at her. "Where's Ben?"
She lowered her eyes to the ground and mumbled, "He left."
"Oh…I'm sorry," I said softly, gently patting her arm. I was surprised when she raised her head to show me that her eyes were glittering with happiness.
"I got his address!" she said gleefully, holding up a small white business card with a number scrawled across the back. "He lives in Trump Tower," she whispered, a dreamy look passing over her eyes. "He says he knows the Donald personally…"
I raised one eyebrow. "But you hate Donald Trump."
"Well, yes," she admitted sheepishly. "But, you know, it's the idea of it."
"Okay," I laughed, though soon followed it up with a frown. "But that's on Manhattan…"
"Well, that's where Matherson Incorporation's headquarters are," she said hurriedly. "You know, so he doesn't have too long of a commute. They just flew in for today to meet with Edward…" she gave a short giggle. "I saw you sleeping, too. Pretty funny, if I do say so myself."
I blushed. "Was it that bad? It's just, I have food poisoning, so…"
She wrinkled her nose. "It's not contagious, is it?"
I shook my head. "No. But what happened? I don't really know, since I was kind of incapacitated."
She smiled. "It was…well, Mr. Lawrence was really taken with you. He kept clapping Edward on the back for getting a secretary like you."
I turned bright red. "Well, that's just talk…" I mumbled.
She laughed again. "And then Edward was so cute—it was like he was jealous or something. And he kept trying to brush your hair back from your face, but then he kept stopping himself. It was really sweet."
I blushed even darker as her face took on a look of suspicion.
"Hey," she said cautiously, "hey—you guys aren't, well, you know…?"
"No, I mean…we're not!" I said hastily, my voice squeaking. "We're just friends that, you know, are good. And we, you know, like each other, like, you know, a lot…"
She was getting more skeptical by the second.
"So," my voice kept getting higher pitched—it sounded like I had just been inhaling helium. "So, you know, we try to keep our relationship professional, but, you know, who can help one little kiss every once in a while? Or, you know, a lot every while…or more than a kiss, more like a full-blown session of, you know, making out on a couch…but that's purely hypothetical, of course." I started giggling nervously.
Angela raised one eyebrow. "You're an absolutely horribly liar," she said simply. "Really. You're awful. It's almost painful watching you."
"Thanks," I said in a deadpan, glad that my voice was at least lowering in pitch.
"Don't worry, I won't tell Victoria," she smiled. "But I would keep it under wraps. Try to stay away from him. Because, well, like I said…you're not the best at concealing things."
I nodded. "Yeah. And Rosalie's working on helping me out, too."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, so that's why she's switching us!" she laughed. "Oh, okay! Well, that makes perfect sense. I need a change of scenery anyway."
"I hope it's not inconvenient," I said hurriedly.
She shook her head and waved her hand slightly. "Of course not. I'm glad, if anything. Working with Rosalie…it kind of lowers your self esteem."
I grinned. "Yeah, I'd have to agree with you there." I glanced at the desk, and remembered what I had originally been sent out to do. "Oh!" I snapped my fingers. "Where's Jessica? Do you know?"
"Oh, yeah," she nodded sagely. "Probably talking to Lauren or delivering something to Victoria. I swear, Jess is practically Victoria's spy…they're always having meetings or rendez-vous' or something."
I nodded. "Okay, so, where exactly is her office?"
Angela gestured to the ceiling. "One floor up on the 21st. You can take the stairs or the elevator, either way."
"Stairs," I said simply before heading down the hall back towards the stairwell. "Thanks, Ang!"
"No problem, Bella," she called. "Happy to help a friend."
Friends…I smiled. That sounded good.
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I knocked lightly on the crème colored door, staring blankly at the black print letters of "BLANCH" that were stamped across its face. I could hear murmuring inside, followed by the scraping of chairs.
The door swung open, and I stepped inside with a quick grin to its three occupants—Lauren, Jessica, and, of course, Victoria. I coughed nervously. Not that I wasn't expecting all three of them, but my situations with them were just so…awkward. Jessica I obviously hated, Victoria I was having to reject, and Lauren…well, that was self-explanatory.
"Hey," I said quietly, my heart sinking down in my chest when Victoria gave me a forced smile. Jessica merely eyed me distastefully, while Lauren gazed with an unnecessary amount of determination at the top of my head.
"Did you need anything?" Victoria asked, her lips turned downwards.
"I needed to speak with Jessica for a moment," I said quickly. I then addressed said female. "Mr. Cullen needs the documents of Mr. Black's record and personal information…he said you would have it."
"Trying to get rid of you already?" Jessica asked snidely.
I pursed my lips and continued, ignoring her. "Do you have them?"
She smirked. "I may, I may not."
I frowned. "Please, Jessica, this is no time to play games—I need those documents."
Her smile grew even broader. "Do you, now?"
"Yes," I hissed. "I do." I was really starting to lose patience with her.
She examined her nails, her expression bored. "Victoria and I—excuse me, Miss Blanch—" she gave me an extremely smug look, as if the fact that she and Victoria were on first name terms was a novelty, "—were just discussing you."
"Oh, really, now?" I said, my teeth clenched.
She nodded. "And do you know what we were saying?"
"You were talking about how much I need those documents?"
She giggled softly. It sounded strangely menacing. "No, of course not. We were talking about how inappropriate office relationships are. Weren't we, Lauren?"
Lauren, whose gaze had never wavered from the space above my head, gave a curt nod, meeting my eyes for a moment before snapping back to her former position.
I felt myself stiffen involuntarily. "Jessica," I said angrily, "I need those documents. Now. Please process that."
She ignored me. "What are your opinions on the subject, Swan? Don't you find office romances to be rather…unfair? Unnecessary? Or…jeopardizing?"
I gulped internally, but made sure that my face remained stony. "I'm not here to chit-chat. I need those papers. Now." I gave Victoria an exasperated look—she smiled slightly in return and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Why was she acting so un-authoritative? It was completely unlike her.
Unless…
It dawned on me suddenly, submerging me in the horror of my realization.
Unless she wanted Jessica to be talking about this.
Victoria wanted to know. She had a hunch—a gleam in her eye that I had stupidly not noticed before, the kind of gleam someone gets when they're on a trail, or when they've found a lead. The gleam of discovery. And boy oh boy, what a discovery she had made—her favorite secretary in the office, or at least one she liked, doing something she had been expressly forbidden to do.
I vowed not to let her see me sweat.
"Of course they're unfair," I said solemnly. "It's almost as bad as ineffective crushes. Really, employer and secretary…how could that possibly happen?" I gave Jessica a sardonic look, daring her to retort. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as I added softly, "But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"
"The documents are in the second drawer from the bottom on the left hand side," Jessica said suddenly, her voice short.
I smiled sweetly. "Thanks," and high-tailed it out of the room.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
I sighed as I gazed at the clock in the upper right hand corner of my Mac computer screen—8: 24 P.M….still six minutes until I was let out of this stupid building. I groaned and stretched my fingers, pushing them backwards until it felt like the knots within them were slowly unraveling. It was only Sunday evening, but God, I felt awful. I had been working myself to the bone for the past few hours, just to prove to Victoria—and, maybe, subconsciously, myself—that I was a great secretary, and that I didn't deserve to be fired.
Even if I was having a relationship with the boss.
I stood up and turned around, placing my hand on the small of my back and bending forward. I then proceeded to walk around to the other side of the room and lean my head against the wall, sighing at the cool texture.
"So hot," I said sleepily, closing my eyes and sighing.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a familiar voice chuckle behind me.
"Glad to know my secretary's working up a fever," Edward said smoothly, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me back from the wall to lean against him.
"Mmm," I said, my head tilting back against his shoulder. "It's been a long day."
He laughed again and put his mouth to my ear. "Far too long to go without a kiss, in my opinion."
"Oh, yeah, your opinion," I said sarcastically. "Mr. I-think-with-my-libido-constantly."
He just smiled and kissed my jaw. "Still argumentative, I see."
I yawned. "Not especially. Just crabby."
He kissed me again, right below my lip. "Still grumpy?"
"Well, you bring out the worst in me," I muttered, turning my head slightly to try and capture his lips.
He laughed. "Who's thinking with their libido now? You seem a little eager."
I frowned. "Well, I mean, you refuse to just kiss me. You work your way up to it by putting butterfly kisses everywhere, but never an actual kiss? It's not like my neck's the only kissable area of my body or anything—"
I took an unnecessary gulp of air as he suddenly spun me around, putting me flush against the wall.
"You're right," he murmured against my lips, "it's not the only kissable area…"
My eyelashes fluttered open on their own account, only to find Edward's green eyes smoldering at me with such intensity that, without the wall, I probably would have crumpled to the floor.
"Definitely," I whispered, positively melting.
My toes curled in anticipation for what was sure to be the most amazing kiss ever. But then, of course, Edward decided to pull away, grinning fiendishly.
"What?" I asked exasperatedly, pulling at his collar to bring him back towards me. "What's wrong?"
He smirked at me, leaning tantalizingly close. "I don't want to think with my libido too much," he breathed, tilting his head to the side in what would have been a cute gesture if I hadn't had the overpowering urge to slap him silly.
"You already responded to my libido comment," I hissed. "Once you've given a comeback to a comment, you can't give another comebackto that same comment. It's against the laws of banter."
He just kept up that infuriating smile.
This made it so much easier on my conscience when I stamped on his foot with my four-inch, spear-like heel.
He yowled and dropped to the floor like a stone, clutching his shoe.
"That's what you get, you jerk!" I yelled, stamping my foot again for added sound effect and storming out the door in a haze of fury. I was so angry that it didn't really cross my mind that I was behaving childishly.
There was also the fact that I practically ran into Victoria.
"Oh, hi," I said, still steaming.
"Are you okay?" she peered at me curiously—she didn't seem as cold as she did at our last encounter.
"Sure," I said, tapping my foot impatiently. "Just, you know, talking to Edward." I gave her a bitter smile. "Need anything?"
She raised her eyebrows as Edward bellowed angrily from my office, "I THINK YOU BROKE MY FOOT!"
I grinned sheepishly. I was extremely glad that my little assault had, apparently, managed to prevent him from moving. It was sort of nice having him incapacitated. "I kind of…knocked over a lamp."
She nodded and raised one eyebrow disbelievingly. "Uh-huh."
"A very expensive lamp," I added.
She chuckled. "Right. Getting back at Edward?"
I shrugged and gave her a slight smile. "Yup. Destroying furniture…it's all a part of my mass plan of retaliation."
"BELLA! THOSE WERE MY FAVORITE LOAFERS!"
I giggled nervously. "Well, nice talking to you. I have to…go."
She nodded sagely. "Of course. Understandable, seeing as how you knocked over such a great…lamp." She definitely didn't believe me.
Considering how angry Edward sounded, it was completely understandable that I promptly vacated the building.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
"Hi! This is the flat of Bella Swan and Alice Cullen! Since we're not answering, in all likelihood, we're partying our hearts out. Or, at least, we are in spirit. If this is Tyler, go to hell. Anybody else, leave a message after the beep." BEEP.
I cringed as the dreaded voice began to speak.
"Bella Swan," Edward said smoothly, "I am going to personally ensure that you regret ever having left your apartment this morning."
He hung up.
I gulped.
"Alice…" I whispered, my voice soaked with dread. "He's not going to really go through with that…" I eyed the now-blinking machine warily. "…Is he?"
She shrugged noncommittally. "I've hardly ever seen him get to the point of leaving threatening messages on answering machines. But, you know, I doubt it. I think both of you are just blowing the whole thing out of proportion."
I looked at her, stunned. "Aren't you, you know, afraid?"
She snickered. "Even if he is serious, why should I be? I'm not the one who basically murdered his shoes by stepping on them—"
"Yeah, yeah," I said hastily, "yeah, I know, it was stupid, but I didn't mean to, you know…tear through them."
She snorted. "Honey, those were four-inch heels with spikes; the leather pretty much didn't stand a chance. So you think what you did was stupid? No, Bella—it wasn't stupid. It was the epitome of insane."
I sighed. "Yup…"
"It was the pinnacle of idiocy."
I gave an even deeper, more mournful sigh, hoping she would get just how sorry I was. "Indeed."
"Not to mention you did it to the possibly worst person in the entire world," she added, now starting to count the list on her fingers. "Did you know that Edward has a thing about taking care of his feet? He's into track and field and running and all that stuff. I would almost say that he holds footwear to be as important as his piano." She shook her head, as if the idea was completely bizarre.
"Okay," I said, slightly annoyed.
"And you didn't even apologize to his face…you've just been ignoring his phone calls for the past—" she glanced at her watch, "—for the past hour."
I nodded, my lips pursed. I was pretty miffed that she wasn't backing me up in my time of need.
"And," she continued, "you still haven't put out that restraining order against Tyler, so that's just gonna add fuel to the flames."
I scowled. "Yeah, okay, I get it, I'm stupid. Now can we please figure out how to solve this?"
She giggled and waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it."
My eye twitched. This was unbelievable—she was being completely unhelpful. Usually she would at least quote Poor Richard's Almanac or Entertainment Weekly. "What on earth do you mean, Alice?"
She just kept giggling. "Well, if you've known Edward as long as I have, you know that…well, he doesn't really have the guts to do anything. Not really."
My eyes bugged out. "What do you mean, Edward's not brave?"
She shook her head furiously. "No, no, no, not at all. I'm sure he's pretty courageous or whatnot. What I'm saying is that if it came down to it, he couldn't back up those threats. He's all talk. He's not going to do anything to you. So don't worry." She patted my hand. "My brother may look like a lion, but he's really a lamb."
I blinked at her before slowly saying, "He sure sounded serious." Not to mention I really couldn't picture Edward as a lamb—it just wasn't working.
"Yeah, well…" she furrowed her brows, as if she was trying very hard to solve a difficult puzzle. "Okay, think of it like this—Edward is hard on the outside, but soft on the inside, okay? Like…like…" her face screwed up again, and a look of deep concentration slid onto her features. "Like…a clam."
I snorted—now that analogy I really couldn't picture. "Okay. Edward is like a clam. Sure." I clapped a hand on my mouth to refrain from laughing to death.
Now Alice was the one looking disgruntled. "Well, he is!" she said defensively. "I'm not saying you can eat him—I mean, you can try, not that it'll work—but he's got this tough exterior, though he's just—"
"Just a big softie on the inside," I finished for her.
She nodded. "Exactly."
I was about to respond to what I thought was her extremely lacking simile, when the phone rang again. I groaned as the answering machine's message blared once more.
"Hi! This is the flat of Bella Swan and Alice Cullen! Since we're not answering, in all likelihood, we're partying our hearts out. Or, at least, we are in spirit. If this is Tyler, go to hell. Anybody else, leave a message after the beep." BEEP.
"Isabella Marie Swan."
I shuddered at how deadly his voice sounded.
"I am driving to your apartment as we speak."
I took in a deep breath.
"I hope you're prepared. Because I want you to know—I paid a lot of money for those shoes. Just think about that."
He hung up.
"Oh, Alice!" I wailed. "He's gonna murder me, and then he'll chop me up into little pieces and burn the pieces and stamp on them and then…then dump them in a river and torch them and…oh, Alice!"
Alice made a valiant attempt at keeping her face stoic as I fell to my knees in front of her, flopping down onto the rug with the sigh of someone who knows that their fate is inevitable. "I'm going to die," I moaned.
Alice patted my head reassuringly. I, however, was inconsolable.
The fact that the phone rang again only served to make me feel worse.
"Hi! This is the flat of Bella Swan and Alice Cullen! Since we're not answering, in all likelihood, we're partying our hearts out. Or, at least, we are in spirit. If this is Tyler, go to hell. Anybody else, leave a message after the beep." BEEP.
"Isabella Marie Swan. I'm outside your apartment building." He paused, and then, "I hope you got that second lock."
"Dear God," I murmured, my eyes widening.
Alice sighed and leapt over to the door, making sure that it was fastened tightly shut. "Calm down," she said. "It's not like he's gonna break the door down or anything…"
I glared at her. "He might. He just might."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You two take yourselves way too seriously."
My eyes narrowed even further. "You didn't see him. He…he...was absolutely furious." Okay, so I was making stuff up now—I had only heard him after all—but I thought that I was hitting pretty close to home.
Alice shrugged. "Whatever. Both of you are such drama queens. What do you want for dinner, anyway?"
I groaned. "I probably won't live long enough to eat it."
"So pizza should be good then?"
Since she seemed to not be accepting of the fact that I was going to die soon, I merely muttered, "Terrific."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and a gruff voice called out, "Hey! Miss Swan, Miss Cullen…this is the landlord. I got a complaint about noise problems from this apartment…"
I sighed and slowly rose. "I'm coming Edward, don't worry. You don't need to act for me."
The voice sounded genuinely confused. "Edward? What's he got to do with this?"
I rolled my eyes. "It's okay, I know it's you. Don't pretend."
"Who's pretending?" the guy sounded slightly angry, and…hurt? I wasn't sure; his voice was muffled from having the door as a barrier between us.
I walked slowly over to the door. "Look, just…don't hurt me, okay?"
The voice was quiet. "I would never hurt you, Bella."
I gave a short laugh—only five feet from the door now. "Yeah, well, you sure didn't sound that way on the phone." He didn't respond, so I continued. "And seriously, 'noise problems'?" I laughed softly. "What kind of a lame excuse is that?"
The voice on the other side sounded perturbed. "What are you talking about? You're the one who said you were out partying on your phone's answering machine."
I snickered. "Yeah—in spirit. Gosh, way to be thick, Edward."
I was now just three feet from the door.
"Thick? Who're you calling thick?" The voice sounded decidedly angry. But I had given up being worried—I deserved his anger.
"Just, letting you know, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean…just, stamping on your foot and killing your shoe or whatever…it was a reflex. Nothing more." I giggled. "Okay, so, I kind of meant it, but you were the one who was leading me on—"
"Leading you on?" the voice on the other side sounded disbelieving.
Only two feet from the door now.
I smiled. "Oh, trying to block that from your memory, now are we? You know, kissing me, and then pushing me against a wall…" I didn't mean to, but I sighed dreamily. "I wouldn't mind that type of punishment from you, quite honestly."
The voice now sounded extremely angry. "Pushed you against a wall? Kissing you? What?"
I frowned. "Of course you remember, right? I mean, I am kind of memorable, aren't I? Not trying to sound, you know, self-conscious or whatever…"
My hand undid the lock with a click.
"Just…please try to understand, Edward," I continued. "I don't want to lose you. I really, really like you. A lot. You know, maybe enough to be…serious?" I knew my phrasing was odd, but he would understand. "I know I told you at the restaurant that I couldn't throw away everything on a chance, but I'm thinking, this isn't just a chance. I'm thinking…maybe it's more."
I took a deep breath. I had been waiting for a while to confess that. And maybe, just maybe it would soften Edward up.
My fingers rested on the doorknob, and I tentatively swung the door open. I was not expecting whom I saw on the other side.
It was Tyler.
And he did not look happy.
A/N: So, there you go. Chapter 8! I apologize for it taking so long to post, but…it had fluff, right? And my favorite thing in the world: making fun of Edward. I love making fun of Edward. You should try it.
Oh, and, that's "two", by the way.
(Hmm, now whatever could that mean? You should guess. Hint – "One" came in chapter four.)
Preview of next chapter: The telephone call (I think), Jeopardy, and a special elevator ride. And more Lauren – by the way, are they casting anybody for Lauren in the Twilight movie?
Review!
