A/N: Unbeta'd as always. I'm trying to catch up after falling behind for two days! EEP!

Prompt: right

BPOV

"But I have plans tonight."

"Plans? What plans could you possibly have? This dinner is important and you'll be there. End of discussion, Isabella."

She closes the bathroom door behind her and I maturely walk into my room - after windmilling my arms in the air where she stood a few moments ago. I throw in the miming of strangulation and flip her both birds for good measure. It's supremely childish, but it makes me feel better. My silent, unseen rebellion.

I flop down on my bed and eye my phone, dreading what I have to do. I briefly entertain the thought of sneaking out while Renee is in the shower, but I know it'll just make shit worse. If I play along and give her no reason to, she's less likely to tighten the reins. And Edward would give her all the reason in the world to do so.

Edward.

I'm disappointed at the thought of canceling on him. I'd spent the rest of last night and all of today looking forward to seeing him tonight. Excited that he seems to want to know me in the same way I want to know him. Of course the doubt crept in as well. Am I being too easy about this? Shouldn't I play harder to get? Why is it so easy for me to lose myself with him? In hindsight, it probably wasn't too smart of me to follow a virtual stranger back to his place alone, but I'd been so caught up in him. Like he and his place were already familiar to me in some way, no doubt due to the events that lead me to him in the first place. It's not the soundest logic, I admit, but it felt right at the time. It still does. I'm not sure if that makes me naïve or stupid or maybe a little of both, but I've decided that I haven't had enough of Edward Cullen.

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Something is different about Renee tonight. She'd stood at the bottom of the stairs wailing my name until I was forced to hop down with one shoe on while trying to put in my earrings. When I'd popped off with a sarcastic comment, she'd ignored it on the way out the door. The walk to the clubhouse was quiet, devoid of her normal nagging about my hair or clothes or posture. And now that we're seated in the formal dining hall of The Dunes, she's fidgeting and adjusting the place setting and silverware in front of her. Out of nowhere, realization sets in.

Renee is nervous. Renee Swan doesn't do nervous. No wonder it took me so long to put my finger on the difference in her. Panic strikes me like a blow to the gut. Someone must be dying. Or dead already. I start to frantically scan the room, as if the answer is staring me in the face. When I see a well-dressed man I don't recognize striding toward our table, my stomach sinks. Oh, no no no. Without taking my eyes off of him, I lean forward.

"What exactly is this dinner for?"

Her eyes fly up to mine and then catch the movement of the man as he reaches us. My voices lowers to a harsh whisper, desperate for her to tell me this isn't what I think it is.

"Mom!"

She shoots me a slightly apologetic, but mostly pleading look. It means 'please' and 'I'm sorry' and 'behave' all at once. I just stare dumbly as she stands and embraces the man's upper arms as he kisses her on the cheek.

"Renee, you look beautiful."

And then I'm pretty sure that I've entered an alternate reality, because Renee Elise Swan...blushes. I raise my hand and flag a waiter, holding my empty wine glass in the air. With my index finger, I indicate the desired level of alcohol – somewhere near the top of the glass. He nods and looks like he's stifling a laugh. If it weren't for the situation across from me, I might have laughed with him.

"And this must be the young woman I've been hearing so much about."

I blink up at him and take in his face. He's somewhere around Renee's age – early forties, I'd guess, with light brown – almost blonde - hair and brown eyes set beneath dark brows. He's perfectly tanned – not too dark, not too orange. He's a handsome man, but I've seen those before. He smiles at me pleasantly while keeping one arm wrapped around Renee's back. I have to say, they make one good looking couple.

I give him a year, tops. Two if he's well-behaved.

Renee clears her throat and widens her eyes at me in the universal signal for 'snap the fuck out of it'.

I raise my hand to him and smile politely.

"Isabella, this is William Clearwater. Will, this is my Isabella."

As he takes my hand, I correct her.

"Bella."

"It's nice to meet you. And your mother was right. You are just lovely."

Renee cuts her eyes at me as she slides into the chair William pulls out for her. I roll mine at her because I'm still annoyed at having to cancel on Edward tonight. The only consolation is that I might still have the chance to see him. When I'd sent him a text to tell him that I couldn't make it, he'd only taken a few minutes to reply. He'd said that he understood and to let him know if I was finished early enough to still swing by. He didn't seem offended, but you can't exactly read emotion in a text. I'm bitter about missing out on Edward and being sideswiped this way by Renee.

The waiter arrives with the wine, but William covers the mouth of his glass and asks for a different bottle – in French. At a beach club. In South Carolina. I barely hold in my snort. He turns his attention to me then, resting his elbows on the table.

"So, Isabella," Strike one, buddy... "how do you like Evers Beach so far?"

My mind shows me the sun-kissed boy from down the shore and I smile.

"It's amazing."

"I'm glad to hear that. I wish I'd been here to welcome you myself, but I was in California on business. I'd love to take you and your mother to the yacht club soon. Show you the sights."

Renee smiles and agrees.

"We'd love to. Wouldn't we, Isabella?"

"Apparently we would."

If William picks up on my sarcasm, he doesn't show it. The waiter arrives with the wine and we order our meals. Throughout dinner, I hear about William's various adventures in real estate development and it's apparent that he loves to hear himself speak. He owns several properties here in Ever Beach as well and I'm only mildly surprised that The Dunes is one of them. I suddenly understand why my association with Renee transformed a disinterested receptionist into a grade A ass kisser yesterday. And Renee's insistence that I join her here this summer also makes a little more sense now. My being the last to know is something I can't wait to discuss with her.

By the time we're finished, I'm antsy and watching the clock on the wall.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Isabella. I look forward to getting to know you better this summer."

"It was nice to meet you as well, William."

He doesn't seem as put out as I do with the full name thing. Too bad. He and Renee head to the bar before she pulls on my arm and whispers in my ear.

"I'll be late tonight, so lock up. And don't think we won't be discussing your behavior tomorrow."

I slap on a sugary sweet smile as William tries to pretend he isn't watching us.

"Can't wait."

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It's past ten o'clock by the time I leave the clubhouse. I look down at my knee length sleeveless sundress. It's dark blue with white polka dots, so it's not too formal. And it's chiffon, so I shouldn't be too hot. Oh, screw it. Deciding that I don't want to waste more time going back to the villa to change, I slip off my wedge heels and send a text to Edward as I walk across the bridge over the pool.

Does that invitation still stand?

His reply comes less than a minute later.

I'll meet you halfway :)

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This chappy was low on Waveward, but we needed some development on other things. Also, I wrote it under the influence of a hovering mother in law. Have mercy on me.

Visuals for this chappy have been added to my profile :)

~jada~