Mask'charade Chapter 9, Behind the Mask Is Where Secrets Lie

Disclaimer: All Twilight related material is the sole property of the original author. Mask'charade belongs to Chynnadoll.

A/N: Wow! That's all I can say about the response to the last chapter. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, comments and interest in this story. I enjoy writing it. I want to give a huge welcome to all the new readers, and a equally big thank you to the ladies over at TLS for recommending this story on their wonderful site. FoolforEdward as always does an wonderful job editing.

Bpov

I've been astounded at the number of phone calls I'd received from guests after the dinner party. They've been over-complimentary about my cooking skills and catering ability and many have requested that I cater for upcoming events such as dinner parties or office functions. I'm beginning to compile a quite an enviable client list. It's unbelievable; I'd never imagined that it would happen this quickly. I suppose I could realistically proceed with starting up a catering business until I'm able to build a strong enough following to open my own restaurant.

It's been over a week, and I still haven't heard a thing from Edward, not that I'm expecting to. I've finally conceded that Edward is indeed his true identity, and that Ned is a contrived alias, created as part of his masquerade, the persona he uses at the club. I still find it hard to believe that he'd go to such lengths simply for sex.

I check my phone for the first time in a long while, just as I prepare to leave work. It appears that I've received a number of missed calls and voicemail messages. I frown in confusion at the unfamiliar number. I return the call as I head out of the door.

"Hello, I'm returning a call that was placed to my phone."

"Is this Bella?"

"Yes, this is she. May I ask who I'm speaking with?" I ask hesitantly.

"Oh thank God. I was beginning to wonder if I'd been dialing the wrong number. Bella, this is Paul."

" Paul," I exclaim as I unlock my car and toss my purse and briefcase inside. "Sorry, I'd forgotten to add your name to my contacts and didn't recognize your number. What can I do for you?"

"Well, it's been a while since I've heard from either you or Ned, and I really need to get your opinions on some ideas. I've started reconstruction on the kitchen area, and I really can't go any further without approval from one of you."

"Well, did you call Ed–Ned?"

"I've been calling him for days, I've left messages, but I haven't gotten a response."

I remove the phone from my ear and huff agitatedly. Seems like I'm not the only one Nedward has duped. As I think about it, I have to laugh.

Nedward…that son of a bitch!

I know that I should sever ties completely with this restaurant, but, I've signed an agreement, and with him playing the disappearing act, I can't just leave Paul in the lurch. I feel responsible. Paul's voice calling my name jostles me from my thoughts.

"I'm here, Paul." I sigh. "Give me about thirty minutes, and I'll be there with you."

"Thanks, Bella. I'll be waiting."

"See you then." I end the call and curse out loud as I drive away from the curb.

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I push aside the heavy glass door. Paul is standing by the designated kitchen entrance, taking measurements. Each time I visit this place it seems like there's more destruction than construction. Rubble crumbles underfoot and alerts him to my presence.

"Oh, wait a second…" He rushes over to me and places a hardhat on my head. "…just as a precaution."

"Um, thanks." I smile as I adjust the hat.

"There's major work going on in here. I wouldn't want you to get hurt." He laughs.

"You guys have been really busy, I see."

"Yeah, it's really coming along nicely. Here, let me show you what I've been working on today." He takes my elbow gingerly and guides me through the room, carefully stepping over the debris.

We reach the area where he'd been standing, and he opens the door for me to pass through. I'm completely astounded.

"Paul….oh my…."

"You like it?"

"It's absolutely gorgeous." I gush as I take in its surroundings. I can feel my smile broaden. It looks as beautiful as I'd imagined, but I don't recall telling Paul my vision for the kitchen. Ned vouched for his talent, and Paul showed me a portfolio of his work. I was immediately amazed by what he could do, and other than giving him stipulations for the equipment and practicalities that were necessary for the kitchen, I'd had enough trust to give him creative freedom, but this…I'm in awe.

"Now, I know you were specific about the color palette for the entire restaurant, but you weren't entirely sure about the kitchen. I felt that the deep rich browns and crème colors should be reflected in the kitchen as well, so we went with this floor pattern. The material is actually vinyl so it fits with your specifications on functionality."

"It's beautiful."

And once again I'm swept up in visions of the future. I can picture myself here in this very room, working with the chefs, assisting with food preparation. This is my dream kitchen, and I can only imagine what the end result will look like. I've waited so long for this, and now it seems like it's finally coming true. But things don't make sense. This is supposed to be my dream, supported by my husband, whom I've been married to for six years. Instead, all of this has been made possible by a man I hardly know; one I believed I was beginning to know, but now even that is put into doubt.

Thoughts of my perfect future come to a screeching halt as I'm faced with the reality of my situation. I'm married to James, and I've told him that I've ended my partnership with Ned. This restaurant isn't mine. I can no longer allow myself to believe that I can go through with this, not after what I told James and most certainly not after what happened with Ned/Edward, whatever the hell his name may be.

"So, this brings me to the reason I've asked you to meet with me. I wanted to get started on the bar area, and I need you to tell me what sort of backsplash you were interested in choosing. I have a plethora of samples you should take a look through to see what strikes you. I know you gave me creative freedom and that was fine for the kitchen, but I know what this place means to you and your grandmother's memory–l"

"Wait, how did you know about my grandmother, Paul?"

"Oh, Ned told me. He was specific that I was to go above and beyond for this place to make it special. He said it was your dream." He winks, and says he'll be right back with a book of samples.

While I wait for him to return, I realize I'm more confused than ever by Ned. Paul returns with a huge portfolio and leads me over to the bar counter where he begins to flip through samples.

"Paul, when was the last time you heard from Ned?"

"Almost a week ago. I've been calling and leaving messages. He instructed me to contact him first on any issue about the restaurant. He explained that you'd be tied up at work during the day, but he hasn't responded to any of my messages. I tried calling his office, and his secretary simply said he was out of town on business. I know he owns a couple of wineries."

I begin to wonder just how well Paul knows Ned, but whatever he knows, seems to be more than I do. I wonder if I can draw further information from him about this mystery man. I step closer and act as if I'm interested in backsplashes while I begin to probe him further.

"Yeah, he has one in Napa and another in Italy where my mother comes from. He offered to take me there, since I'd be featuring his collection on the wine list."

"That would be a good idea, especially since we are about start renovations on the bar. I think we should consider two display areas for Ned's collection; one traveling along the wall as customers enter, and of course, behind the bar. When were you planning on going?"

"Well, I haven't decided. I need to discuss it with my husband first."

His eyes shoot to mine then quickly back to the book.

"You're married?" He says lowly as he clears his throat.

"Yes, I am. Didn't Ned tell you?"

"Um…no….neither did you." He looks at me and chuckles lightly. There's something in the way looks and responds that leads me to believe that he has a view of my relationship with Ned. And now I'm curious to see what he 's thinking.

"Is there something wrong, Paul? You look like you have something rattling around in your head" I implore, but laugh softly just to keep the moment light.

"I…" He frowns almost painfully and then pauses before he continues. "Uh…it's….it's none of my business. Could we get back to the samples?"

"Paul, it's alright. You can say whatever's on your mind." I smile and place a reassuring hand on his arm.

"It's nothing really….I was just under the impression that you and Ned were….you know."

"A couple?" I can barely form the words around the lump that's formed in my throat. How could he think that? We'd always been careful not to alert anyone to the true nature of our closeness. Panic rises inside of me. What in the hell could Paul have possibly witnessed?

"Well, not a couple actually, but I thought I witnessed a moment between the two of you on more than one occasion. He seems to be rather taken with you, and I thought you–l"

"I'm married, Paul." I shut him down instantly, and the words sound almost foreign to my ears. He nods in understanding and resumes flipping through the portfolio.

This is insane. I can no longer do this. I need to sever ties with Ned completely, which regrettably means the restaurant as well, and I have to do it now.

"Paul, I really appreciate everything you've done; all your hard work and patience…."

"It's no problem. It's what I love doing." He smiles brightly.

"I know, and that's why it pains me to say what I have to."

"Is there a problem with the kitchen?"

"No, the kitchen is absolutely breathtaking, but…" I think carefully about my next words.

"Things are just not working out as I'd hoped; not with you." I feel the need to clarify when I notice his worried expression. "As I've said before, your work is magnificent, but things are complicated for me right now."

"Financially." He says knowingly. "I know you love the higher end materials, but I could shop around for less pricey ones if that'd help?"

I smile. "You're so sweet, but no, I'd never want you to do this if you couldn't do it properly; the way we envisioned."

He sighs and closes the book. "You're pulling the plug on me. God, what am I going to tell the workers I've contracted for this job? They're looking forward to a steady paycheck for at least the next few months."

My heart sinks. Damn it! I hadn't thought about that. I feel like an utter bitch.

"No, Paul….I meant that I won't be able to continue. I know that Ned's always wanted this place to sell his wine collection. We only recently met and decided that my desire to open a restaurant meshed well with his original plans. I'm sure he'll continue with the remodeling."

"Maybe, but I'm not able to reach him. What the hell am I supposed to do, Bella?"

He's right. It would be insensitive, let alone irresponsible to just walk out while Ned is off God knows where? I sigh; my mind already made up.

"Contact me for anything you need in the meantime. I'll stay involved until he gets back into town, but no longer."

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True to my word, I've made myself available each time Paul has needed me. I've found myself in the restaurant every day after work for the entire week. He and the other tradesmen have worked basically around the clock all week and finished up early on Friday.

I'm surprised at all the progress they've made in such a short time. He's ordered material's for the bar area, but holds off on starting the project until Ned returns. Ned and I agreed that we loved the existing bar, but simply wanted to change to top to match with color palette and finish we'd chosen.

Paul hasn't proceeded with the kitchen since I told him I wouldn't be continuing as partner, but I do hope that Ned continues with the idea of the restaurant. Paul's worked so hard already, and the kitchen is nearly finished, only awaiting the delivery of equipment. In the end, this place is going to be fabulous. I only hope Ned is able to appreciate what Paul has done in his absence.

Neither Paul nor I have heard from him in all this time. I've subtly probed James about how things are going with him and their new deal, but he told me the same thing Ned's secretary had told Paul; 'Mr. Cullen is out of town on business'. I know it's customary for businessmen to be away for days on end, but to not be in contact with anyone seems unusual to me, and now I'm beginning to worry.

I check my watch. It's gone just past six. James will be getting in soon, and I have nothing prepared for dinner. I place a call to the Thai takeout restaurant down the road and order a couple of different dishes to be delivered for me to take home when I leave. While I wait for the food to be delivered, I try and sweep up the drywall debris. The dust is driving me nuts.

"Guess who?" He whispers and snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me in close. I gasp, but recover quickly and whirl around in his arms.

"You!" My voice rises an octave, and he simply smiles.

"I missed you too, gorgeous." He leans in and kisses me deeply. For a brief moment I succumb to the feeling of his warm lips on mine, but mentally slap some sense into myself then slap him.

"You son of a bitch! Don't you dare touch me ever again!"

He holds his jaw, looking shocked, yet somewhat amused. He's one smug bastard, I'll give him that.

"That wasn't the response I was hoping for." He deadpans.

"Oh no, I guess you were just thinking you could waltz in here, and we'd just pick up where we left off the last time we were here, huh?"

"That's a thought." He steps back and rubs his faintly pink-tinged cheek. I study him briefly. He looks as handsome as he always does, only now, he also looks exhausted, sallow even. His eyes look as if he hasn't slept in days, and the dark dusting of stubble across his strong jawline and perfect chin confirms my thought that he hasn't seen a razor.

"You look…"

"What…handsome?"

"I was going to say haggard."

"Ouch." He frowns at my statement and casually takes a trip around the room, admiring Paul's latest work. My eyes follow as his hand runs slowly along the newly stained wood. "This place is starting to look remarkable. Paul has done a hell of a job. Are you happy?"

I can't believe him. He's acting as if nothing's changed; as if he's been here the entire time and not missing in action for the past week; as if he'd never shown up at my house and pretended not to know me.

"Paul has done an amazing job, but it doesn't matter if I'm happy or not. It doesn't belong to me."

"Of course it does…I mean, partially. We're partners, right?"

"We aren't anything, Ned, or do you prefer to be called Edward, now?"

He turns, staring at me as if he's unaware of what I'm talking about. I'm not sure if he's shocked to hear the tone of my voice or by my question. I fold my arms, waiting for a response, but he says nothing.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"About what?" He shrugs.

"You are unbelievable! Are you just going to stand there and act like nothing happened last week?"

"I'm not acting like anything. Why don't you tell me what has you so upset?"

He has the nerve to look annoyed. I don't care. No matter what the circumstances, I'm getting off of this merry-go-round mind fuck. I slam the broom to the floor and gather up my belongings. Damn the delivery guy. I'll just go and pick up the food. I storm over to him shove the keys into his chest, not waiting for him to even accept or reject them. They fall to the floor with a loud clank.

"This place is all yours."

"Running away again, I see."

I continue to the door without a response.

"Bella, wait." He calls out, just as I open the door.

"I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth, until you tell me why you didn't tell me who you were from the very beginning. No more games." I finally turn to face him. He needs to know that I'm serious. I won't continue to let him play with me like I'm some toy.

"I'm not playing games, and you know who I am." He says calmly and approaches me, eyes fixated on mine.

"I only know what you told me, and it was obviously a lie."

"It wasn't a lie, Bella."

"You knew who I was all along, didn't you." I accuse as I close the distance between us. You knew who my husband is."

"I didn't."

"You're lying. You've been meeting with James for weeks."

""I may well have been, but it doesn't mean that he'd mentioned you, Bella."" He scoffs and smugly crosses his arms."

"You're so snide and arrogant. You didn't give a damn about me and how I would feel."

"What the hell are talking about, of course I care about you." He looks as if I've slapped him.

"You came to my home. You were in my house and you pretended not to know me!"

He stares at me blankly and shakes his head as if he has no idea what I'm talking about. His brows knit, angrily. "What would you have had me do, Bella?"

"You could at least have acknowledged me when I arranged for us to be in a room alone." I spit through clenched teeth.

"You'd have been happy to risk being found out, happy for me to take the risk to expose you? I don't have anything to lose, Bella, what about you?" He asks coldly.

His words are true, but so unfeeling. He's never spoken to me in this way. My lip quivers as the look in his eyes seems almost threatening.

"You….you said things…" My voice lowers, I sound as unsure as a young child.

"I said what I had to, Bella,"

"What are you trying to say?"

His eyes are a raging storm, its piercing green pinning me in place. He steps closer, his voice eerily calm. "I'm saying I don't get off on being 'the other man.'

"You said you didn't do married women."

"For the love of…it was an act!" He presses his fingers to his temple in an attempt to calm himself.

"I had to pretend because….fuck it!" he throws up his hands in defeat. "Do you want to tell him about us, Bella?"

"I think you're too afraid to." The words are out of my mouth, before I have a chance to think. I expected that they would piss him off; instead he views them as a challenge.

"I don't have reason to be afraid of your husband, Bella, perhaps he has good reason to be afraid of me." He practically sneers as he brushes the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.

I swallow hard as his lusting eyes fall to my lips. His tongue darts out to wet his own, and I can tell he's about to kiss me, but I can't allow it. If I do, this whole mess will just continue, and it has to end.

"You're threatening my husband?"

His eyes return to mine. "Not in the way you think."

"I don't know what to think anymore, Ned, Edward, or whatever the hell your name is."

His hand drops from my face, and he steps back. He's angry again, and seemingly distressed as he presses his fingers to his temple.

"My name is Ned."

"Then why did you introduce yourself as Edward Cullen when you came to my home?"

"I told you…fuck!" He grimaces and doubles over, holding his head.

"Ned…are you alright?" I look on worriedly.

"Fuck! Ah!" He turns to lean on the bar, holding his head in agony. I rush to his side.

"Hey….what's wrong, what can I do?"

"Nothing. It's a fucking migraine. It'll pass. Ah!" He hisses. "Ahhh…it fucking hurts!"

He continues to yell out, gripping his hair so tightly, I fear he'll tear it from the roots; his face is a clear picture of anguish.

"Oh my God! Should I call a doctor or…"

"No doctor's. It's just a headache."

"But, you don't look so good. I'm getting worried, Ned."

"I'll be fine." He pants hoarsely. "I just need…I need to get home."

He nearly stumbles to the door. I'm beside him in a second, wrapping my arm around him. I look up at him; he has sweat beading above his furrowed brows.

"I don't–I don't want you to see me like this, Bella."

"That's too bad because there's no way in hell I'm letting you drive in this condition. I'll take you home."

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I can't help the small smile as I stare down at him. . I've helped him into his apartment, removed his shoes, and he's now resting on the couch with a cool cloth on his head. The irony is not lost on me, and I can't help but see the humor in it. Just a week ago, I was in this very position.

"What's so funny?"

"I wasn't laughing."

"You smiled."

"I was just thinking about last week when I fainted, and you told me you went to get a cool cloth for my head."

"You fainted because of me?"

"It was definitely surprising to see you there." I fabricate, feeling uncomfortable about letting him know just how much I was impacted by his sudden appearance. He removes the cloth from his head and watches me with a smirk. I observe him out of the corner of my eye.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm better now, thanks to you." He slowly sits up and gets to his feet.

"Do you get headaches like that often?"

"Once in a blue moon. It's no big deal." He walks over to the bar and pours himself a drink. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, and I don't think you should be drinking alcohol after what just happened."

He snorts, rolls his eyes and deliberately takes a swig from the glass. "Believe me this will help."

"Painkillers will help, not alcohol."

"Drugs." He scoffs again, pours another drink and swallows the contents. "A simple drink will mellow you out; drugs alter. They alter your thoughts, your vision; even your appearance. I don't believe in that shit."

I nod, realizing I'm not going to win this discussion. Other than the mussed hair and five o'clock shadow, he appears to be fine, and it's time for me to go, but not before I handle one last matter.

"You seem a lot better, so I'm going to take off."

"Just like that?"

"No, not just like that." I rise and approach him. "This thing between us is over, the partnership, all of it. Now, I can't do anything about your acquaintance with James or any business agreements you may have with him, but this is done."

I make my statement final and make for the door.

"Are you going to tell him about us?"

"What? No!" I whirl around in disbelief.

"What about the restaurant, Bella?"

"Stop it!" I shout. "Stop trying to control me with the restaurant. It's not mine; it's yours, Ned. You were the original owner and it's your finance that has gotten it to the point where it is now."

"I did it for you, Bella."

"But why? I don't understand any of this."

He comes to stand in front of me and cradles my face. The gesture is sweet and tender. My legs feel like they're about to turn to jelly.

"Because it's your passion. The look you get in these amazing eyes when you talk about it or walk into that place makes me want to do it all for you."

"Well, I don't want you to!" I snap. "Can't you see! I can't…its bad enough that I've lied and been unfaithful, but now everything has changed!"

This is not how I'd expected things to turn out when I finally faced him again. I had it all rehearsed in my head; a few harsh stares, a couple of colorful choice words, followed by a grand exit. My emotions are getting the better of me. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. and I fight hard to keep them at bay. It's a failed attempt.

"Nothing has changed….not for me." His eyes bore into mine.

"How the hell am I supposed to continue any of this, Ned? You're my husband's client, and my partner! Oh…oh my God!" I gasp and turn away from him, realizing for the first time just how bad it sounds.

It was all calculated. He planned this. I lean my forehead against the door and sob.

"You did this on purpose. You made it so that I wouldn't have a choice, no matter what."

"Bella, I swear I didn't do anything on purpose. I met you that night, and things grew from there; for the better." He spins me around to face him. "I never had any intentions of feeling the way I do, but it is what it is. I accept it, and I'm not delusional. I understand that your marriage complicates things–a"

"Correction, you complicate things, Ned. You! My marriage was fine until we met, and now…"

"If that's true then you can walk out right now, and I won't try and stop you." His nostrils flare in agitation. "Go ahead."

He rips opens the door to stress his point. "But I want you to think about this, you've been married for years, and I can guarantee that you've never felt as alive as you do than when you're with me. You're working in an ad agency, not fulfilling your true dreams, because you haven't gotten the support you needed. I want to be the one to keep making you feel alive; to support you in whatever you desire, Bella. Can you say the same about him?"

The truth and emotion of his words paralyze me. The door is open, but I can't bring myself to walk through it, nor can I face him. He gently threads his fingers through my hair, and my eyes flutter closed.

"You don't believe that you mean something to me?"

"If I did, you would never have agreed to be James' client. You would've backed out the moment you realized who I was."

He sighs heavily. "You're right.

"You have all the answers, don't you?"

"Listen, if this is truly what you want, to end this, I'll step back, I'll step away from the whole restaurant thing; be a silent partner."

"Ned–h" He presses his finger to my lips.

"You shouldn't have to give it up just because of me or him. I can step back. If it's what you want."

Why can't I say, 'yes it's what I want.' He's waiting patiently, but I can't force the words out.

"What I want is the truth. Who are you?" I narrow my eyes at the enigma of a man that stands before me. "I need to know everything."

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"I started out in the wine business at the age of twenty." He says as he pours us each a glass of wine. I instantly reach for mine.

"Remember how I told you to prepare for the taste that night at the club."

I nod and breathe in the wine, savoring it's aroma before I drink. I frown, holding the contents in my mouth. He laughs at my expression.

"Some things you have to acquire a taste for."

"You're absolutely right." I say after swallowing in one gulp.

"It's alright. I'm not offended. Sometimes you just have to pair it with the perfect accompaniment. "Here, try this first."

He holds a strawberry to my lips and urges me to bite. Our eyes don't break contact as I lean in and do as he instructs.

"Now take a sip, letting the wine marry with the strawberry in your mouth." He says smoothly, and the combination of his words and voice do something to me. It's almost as if they are wired to my groin. Something about this gesture seems so erotic. I quickly expel those thoughts.

"How about now?" He asks.

"Much better….delicious, actually."

He smiles, still watching me and licks the remaining strawberry juice from his finger.

I clear my throat, trying to lighten the moment. "So, you were twenty when you entered the wine business?"

"Yeah, it was my passion; dream. You know something about that." He moves to sit across from me at the dining table. I can't believe I'm here about to share a meal with this man. I'm supposed to be cooking dinner to share with my husband. It's strange that he hasn't called once to find out why I'm not home. What's worse is that I haven't even attempted to call him with an excuse.

"My father and I always talked about owning a winery together when I was kid. I guess in that regard we are a bit like you and your Nonna."

I simply smile, thinking of her. There's a knock at the door, and he goes to answer. He returns with a white paper bag with fancy writing across the front.

"I'm sure it won't be better than anything you could've prepared, but you've seen what I keep in my refrigerator." He laughs and unpacks the containers and begins plating up the food.

"I'm sure it will be good. You were telling me about your dream as a kid, and I know you own a couple of wineries now, but what's a mystery to me is your business with James."

"It's simple. He's a highly intelligent software developer, and my business requires the latest technology."

"But, when James first started pursuing you as a client, I thought it was because you were in the IT business, not wine."

"It is. Wine is my passion. I own other businesses. E. Cullen Industries is a company that I inherited from my father."

"And that's where the name comes from; Edward Cullen." I say knowingly.

"Edward Cullen is my father. I was named after him, but I choose to go buy Ned to ensure that I don't lose my own identity." He says crossly.

I'm confused by his choice of words. Why would he lose his identity, just by simply using a name he shared with his father?

He looks over to me as he finally takes his seat. "I know what you're thinking, and the answer is, I hated being called EJ, or little Edward or any of the names you can imagine that was associated with me being a 'junior.' Believe me, my mother tried all of them."

I smile, understanding exactly what he's talking about. Nonna and my mom gave me the most ridiculous nicknames as a child. To this day, my mom still calls me 'Twiggy.'

"So, where does Masen come from?" I ask as I dig into the salmon and rice pilaf. When he doesn't answer, I look up and catch him staring blankly.

"Ned?"

"Masen is my middle name."

He surprises me. From the way he was staring off into space, I thought he hadn't heard me.

"Okay." I sigh and smile, content to have gotten over that hurdle. His reason for going by another name seems to make sense. Besides, Ned is a shortened version of Edward.

"So, you mentioned your parents. Do they live here in New York?"

"No. My parents are dead. They drowned when I was ten."

My head snaps up, but he simply continues to eat as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on me.

His parents drowned?

I will provide a gallery soon that you can refer to for pics. if anyone is interested. Posting links on FF is obviously a no no.

Thank you for reading and see you all next chapter!