Chapter Ten
"You're nuts," James snorts. "Corporate transactions, litigation, and defense, that's how you get rich."
"I'm not interested in getting rich," I say, determined to contain my temper. Neither James nor Jasper would understand my motivation anyway, and they know nothing about my wealth or my history with the Winstons, a family that surpasses either of theirs for money and status. I have no intention of enlightening them.
"With your academic results, you'd have your choice of law firms. Do you even know how intense the competition for the best graduates is and just how much the top guys are prepared to pay?" he asks, unaffected by my response.
"I'm aware, and it doesn't make any difference. I won't change my mind, James, so drop it!" I reply, pissed off that he won't let it go. Since learning about my internship, James has been trying to convince me to change my career path. Jasper shares his views, but he, at least, seems to have accepted my decision to become a prosecutor. How the fuck he thinks it's any concern of his, I don't know. I, sure as hell, have never questioned what they want to do.
We're driven by different things; Jasper by his political ambitions—his own and that of his father for him, and me, by my desire to represent the victims of crime. James appears to have no driving force other than the wish to amass an even greater fortune. To each his own, I say. It's a good thing we don't see each other as often as we used to. If we did, James would have more opportunities to regurgitate this futile discussion, and I'd probably give in to the desire to punch him.
Our second year is markedly different from the first. As One L's we were required to study criminal law, contracts, legislation and regulation, torts, civil procedure, and property. We also had to undertake legal research and writing, referred to as LRW, and participate in problem-solving workshops. Other than two elective courses, most of our time had been spent with our group members. So, given our membership of section three and our housing at North, Japer, James, and I spent a lot of time together.
In our second and third years, we have flexibility. We're able to tailor a curriculum to suit our personal goals. Other than the stipulation that we take a course in personal responsibility and the need to complete a significant piece of written work, known as the third-year paper, we're free to choose from the wide range of law courses offered.
So, while we remain friends and continue to spend a good deal of our free time together, we're no longer joined at the hip, so to speak. We share some courses, but we've each chosen to include subjects suited to our ambitions.
"Well, I think— " James, who never knows when to quit, continues.
"What are we doing tonight?" Jasper, sensing my rapidly rising irritation, interjects.
James' eyes light up. "The med guys are having a party," he says, referring to some third-year medical students he knows. "Are you guys up for it?"
"I'm in," Jasper replies immediately.
"I can't; I've made plans with Rose," I say.
"Bring her," James suggests.
"No way! I don't want her exposed to the shit that goes down at those parties."
"What? She's at college—you don't think she's seen anything like that before?" James scoffs.
"She better not have," I snap. He's about to respond, but Jasper, again, intervenes.
"It's better that you don't invite her. You'd be watching her all night and never relax."
"You can't act like a guard dog, Edward; she's an adult," James chimes in.
"Mind your own fucking business," I tell him, not liking his tone or the fact that he thinks he can tell me how to behave with my sister.
"Just saying," he says, trying to make light of his comment, but I know him better.
"Stay away from her," I warn him.
"She's stunning, but I wouldn't dream of pissing you off," he says. "There's plenty of fish in the sea, right? I may even go after that little doctor friend of yours. She has a thing for you, but I'm sure I could persuade her to forget about you."
"What?" he challenges. "You don't think I can?"
"I'm not interested in Brooke in that way. I value our friendship too much, and I'm sure you won't succeed. She's too smart to fall for your line of bullshit."
"Edward's right. Perhaps you should adopt a new approach?" Jasper jokes.
"Why? It's worked so far, and I just haven't even tried with her yet. How about a wager?" James goads Jasper. "A thousand says I'll get her into bed; I'll double it if you want some skin in the game," James returns. "I'll even give you a head start."
"Jasper!" a female voice calls out before he can reply. Cynthia Buchanan, his sometimes girlfriend, makes her way over.
"Well, there goes my plans for tonight," Jasper mutters under his breath. He gets up to greet her, barely masking his irritation.
"I knew I'd find you here," she says, kissing his cheek. She's referring to Café Pamplona, an iconic coffee shop near Harvard Square, that we often frequent. I have no doubt that she would have tracked Jasper down to almost anywhere, she's that determined to hang onto him. His interest in her, though, can best be described as tepid. He once confessed that he continues their on again-off again relationship only to appease his father. "To get him off my damned back," he'd said.
"James," Cynthia gushes and leans down to kiss his cheek also. "Hi, gorgeous," he returns, making her smile even wider. It leaves her face, and her eyes narrow when she turns to me. "Edward," she says coolly.
"Cynthia," I respond, matching her tone. There's no love lost between us. She's snubbed me from the moment Jasper introduced us, and I, admittedly, refuse to fawn over her the way James does. I have no idea what her problem with me is, and, frankly, I don't care. Cynthia epitomizes everything I detest about people like her.
The Buchanans rival the Whitlock family's political history, and Jasper's father is determined to merge the two families through Jasper and Cynthia's marriage. The alliance would, in his view, significantly improve Jasper's chances when he eventually makes his bid for the presidency. I say when, not if, because Joshua Whitlock, from what I've learned about the man since befriending his son, will stop at nothing to realize his family's ambition to see a Whitlock in the White House. It's not Cynthia's political pedigree that I hold against her, nor is it her family's wealth. What I abhor is her sense of superiority, the fact that she considers everyone who isn't part of the social elite or who doesn't have obscene wealth as being beneath her. It's her sense of entitlement that fuels my dislike—the same attitude, probably, that resulted in Edward Winston casting Elizabeth and me aside as easily as he would used clothing.
Withdrawing some notes from my wallet, I place it on the table before rising. "I'll see you Monday," I tell Jasper and James before leaving.
.
.
It's the last day of my semester break, and Emmett and I are having a quiet drink at a pub, not the one where Alec works; we were there two nights ago. It's rare that Em and I get to spend time alone these days, so we've made the most of catching up on what's happening in each other's lives. He wants to leave the company he's working for and find a smaller one. "I'd like to interact with clients more, feel like I'm making a real difference," he says. "I've enjoyed the large-scale projects, but I'm only one of several contributing."
"What kind of company?"
"A small to medium-sized construction or architectural firm; a place that does domestic as well as commercial work."
"Why don't you speak to my dad? He could probably point you in the right direction," I suggest.
"Do you think he'd talk to me?" he asks, his excitement clearly visible.
"I'm sure he'd be happy to. I'll mention it to him," I promise, and, then, when he thanks me, shrug it off, telling him it's no problem.
"I saw Rose yesterday," he says.
"Where?"
"She was with some guy, coming out of Strega on the waterfront."
"What guy?" I ask.
"His name's James. He looked a bit jumpy when Rose introduced me as your best friend—"
"That fucker! I'm going to kill him…"
"Edward; what the hell?" Emmett lays a restraining hand on my arm, and it takes me some moments before I'm calm enough to describe James. He confirms that the description matches the guy he met. When he asks what my problem is, I tell him about James and his treatment of women.
"If you need any help kicking his ass, let me know," he says, angry too, but that's hardly surprising. Em's been nearly as protective of Rose as I am since we caught those kids harassing her at school.
She isn't home when I get there, and the thought that she could be with James infuriates me more. "What's wrong, Edward?" Mom asks when, unable to settle down, I get up and pace around the living room.
"Nothing," I answer because Rose and I have never snitched on each other. Instead, I make some excuse about needing to catch up on my reading and go upstairs to wait.
The minute I hear the front door slam shut, I make my way to Rose's room. I'm sitting on her bed when she opens the door.
"Where've you been?" I sign, not wanting Mom to hear us argue because I have no doubt we're about to.
"Out," she says.
"Who with?"
"A friend. Why are you so mad?" she demands, turning to hang up her jacket.
"James?" I demand, getting up to stand in her way.
"Does it matter?" she snaps, elbowing past me.
"Yes, it matters!" I snap right back.
Rose, her anger almost matching mine now, juts her chin out; her violet-blue eyes narrow in warning. "I'm not a child, Edward; you can't stop me from seeing him. And you were out of line by telling him to stay away from me—"
That prick! I can well imagine how he manipulated that piece of information to gain Rose's trust. "He's a jerk, who treats women like objects!"
"Don't you?" she demands. "The only reason you want me to stay away from James is to stop me from finding out what you get up to."
"No, I fucking don't! And that's not why—"
"What's going on in here?" Mom asks, and I realize I've been shouting. "Edward, watch your temper and stop cursing, especially at your sister. I don't bother telling Mom that Rosalie has, on many occasion, outsworn me.
"He's being ridiculous," Rose scowls at me. I glare back, challenging her to be reasonable, but it's clear she's determined to ignore anything I say.
"Sorry," I apologize to Mom before turning on my heel. In my room, I start packing.
"What are you doing?" Mom asks, stepping inside.
"I have a lot of work to do to prepare for tomorrow, so I'm going back to my apartment," I say to appease her.
"But we agreed you'd leave in the morning—" she protests and then, stepping close, touches my arm.
"What were you arguing about?"
"Nothing, Mom. You know how we are. It's just a disagreement; it'll blow over," I assure her.
"Are you sure you have to go?" she appeals. I hate disappointing Mom, but I've decided what I need to do, so tell her yes and return to stuffing clothes into my bag before she can question me further.
"I'll get your food supplies ready," Mom says and kisses my cheek.
At Mass Avenue, I stop only to dump my bag on my bed and place the food in the kitchen before making my way to Jasper and James' apartment. Jasper opens the door and is about to greet me, but I brush past him.
James is leaning in the doorway to their living area. The bastard smiles as if he doesn't have a care in the world. "I thought you weren't back until the morning," he says. "Want a beer?"
I grab him by his collar. His shock does little to douse my anger, it stokes it because he'd apparently thought he'd get away with messing around with Rose behind my back. I pin him to the wall, my forearm pressed tight against his throat. "You fucking stay away from my sister!" I tell him. I'm so mad; I feel myself vibrating. Thoughts of how James treats women, how he talks about them after, memories of Elizabeth crying out as some man hurts her, the helplessness I felt then, all flood through my brain. Fuck that; I'm no longer a helpless kid. No one's going to harm any of my family ever again.
"Hey, I like her…" James tries to protest.
I increase the pressure on his throat. "I don't give a shit! I'm not having you treat my sister like some easy lay." His face turns red, his eyes wide and panicked in his struggle to breathe.
"Edward—" Jasper intervenes, but his placating voice only pisses me off more—ever the politician, pretending to take the high ground when, in fact, he condones James' behavior. He probably does the same shit, except he's much smarter and more subtle.
"You knew, and you didn't tell me?" I accuse him.
"It really isn't any of my business," he says, raising his hands.
"Well, it's my fucking business. You should have told me," I glare at him. A look of acknowledgment, or perhaps it's appeasement, crosses his face. I can't tell; I'm too mad to think straight.
"Ed…Edward, just hear me out, okay?" James chokes. "I haven't had sex with Rosalie—" I tighten my hold, bringing myself almost nose to nose with him, silently warning that I don't want to hear any of his usual bullshit. He returns my gaze steadily. "I won't," he says and then assures me that he respects Rosalie. I ease off, not quite releasing my hold.
"My sister is nothing like the girls you go around with. If I find out you've done any of the shit you usually get up to with her, I'll take your fucking head off. I don't give a shit about the consequences," I tell him, and then, with one last shove, walk away.
It takes weeks before I can be in James and Jasper's company or even look at them without feeling anger, but things eventually return to normal. Well, as normal as they can be, given that they've both confirmed my initial observation—that we have little in common and that neither of them have accepted or are likely to view me as a true friend. Friends don't treat each other so underhandedly. James, realizing the precarious nature of our truce and knowing that I'm watching like a hawk, is careful not to antagonize me.
Rose and I make up the weekend following our argument. She promises she'll be careful. "He's fun to be with, Edward," she says about James, and, then, when I start to warn her about his reputation, she cuts me off. "We're just seeing each other casually, and I wouldn't get intimate with someone I'm not in a serious relationship with," she assures me, so I let it go because I trust my sister not to lie to me.
When, about a month later, Rose tells me she and James are no longer seeing each other, I'm both delighted and relieved. I stop monitoring his behavior, put my friendship with both him and Jasper into perspective and concentrate even harder on my reason for being at Harvard.
That's it for this week, everyone. Thanks, always, for reading :)