Chapter Nine – Holiday From Hell

EPOV

Isabella Swan hates me and it's entirely my fault. I'm sure of it.

It all started on Thanksgiving.

We, mainly Tanya, had decided to host Thanksgiving at our home this year for both our families. As my parents lived in the greater Chicago area, this was hardly a problem for them. Tanya's originally from Cambridge, Massachusetts which meant her family would need a place to stay while they were visiting. I was more than happy to put them up in a posh hotel nearby, but Tanya insisted that we use the spare rooms in our home and let them stay with us.

What a disaster that was.

Wednesday evening her parents, Claudia and Roger, as well as her sister Irina and her husband Laurent arrived. We have three guest bedrooms, we showed her parents to the largest of the three and they were very polite and appreciative of our efforts. Irina was another story altogether.

"I guess it'll do, but it's a little on the small side don't you think?" She whined when I brought her bags upstairs.

"I'm sorry, Irina. The other room is no bigger, I promise." I responded with a strained smile.

"Do you think you could bring the rest of my bags to other room? I'll need the space and I can use this room for sleeping," she concluded.

"How much did you pack? You'll only be here until Saturday," I said in disbelief.

"I packed what I needed, thank you very much. If it's too much of a problem I guess just forget about it," she replied haughtily.

"No, no. I suppose I could do that." I shrugged.

"Thanks so much, Edward."

If only the complaining had stopped there. The top choice sirloin steak I spent hours marinating and cooking for dinner that evening was "too chewy" and she "simply couldn't eat it." The wine I provided everyone after dinner was "alright," but she'd had so much better. Next, I was informed that the selection of movies I had to offer for us to watch in the living room didn't contain anything worth watching. The last straw came when she couldn't believe she and her husband were expected to share a queen size bed as opposed to a king. To make matters worse, Tanya didn't say a word to her the entire time. Even when I would look at her in desperation, pleading with my eyes for her to step in, she just did nothing.

The next morning, I was assaulted by Claudia first thing. She went on and on, asking when she was going to get to be a grandmother and have a bouncy baby girl or boy in her life again. She then proceeded to kick me out of my own kitchen, telling me she knew how to fix dinner much better than I would be able to. My parents weren't due for another hour, so with nothing else I do I went into the TV room and switched on the holiday parade, a tradition I'd kept up since I was a young child. It was at that point that Roger and Laurent decided they wanted to catch an early football game, changing the channel and only asking if I minded after the fact.

Unable to handle much more of the insanity, I snuck away to the liquor cabinet and fixed myself a drink.

It's five o'clock somewhere, even if it's only 10 o'clock here.

I finished my drink and made my way upstairs to the master bedroom to change for dinner. Tanya was sitting at her vanity fixing her make-up when I entered the room; I kissed the top of her head and walked over to the closet to choose a pair of slacks and a shirt. I figured I would try to talk to her about how things had been going thus far.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"I was thinking…" I began.

"Yes, what's wrong?" She asked, turning around and looking at me in alarm.

"Nothing's wrong per say, I was just wondering if maybe you could talk to your sister. It just seems like she's going a little overboard with some of her complaints. I mean, I'm doing my best and I'm just kind of feeling like she's finding anything and everything she can put down."

"Don't be silly, you shouldn't let her get to you like that," she waved me off and turned back to her mirror.

"That might be easier to do if she wasn't constantly finding something to complain about. And your mother more or less just removed me from my own kitchen, Tanya. I'm feeling trapped in my own house here, Sweetheart."

"Look, I know they can be overbearing, but they're my family, Edward. They come with the package and you should have realized that years ago."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, but kept my mouth shut, focusing instead on getting ready. I methodically put my clothes on, counting the buttons on my shirt as I buttoned them and trying to calm my nerves. Obviously, I was going to have to deal with Tanya's family whether I wanted to or not.

Things started to look up when my parents arrived.

"Edward, how's my boy?" My mother said enveloping me in a hug the second she walked through the door.

"Hello, Mom. I'm fine, I've missed you though," I smiled.

"Hello, Junior," my father said brusquely as he came in the door. He caught me in a one armed hug, which was the most affectionate he tended to get. "Carlisle told me about the big case. I must say son, if you can get by without fucking this up, things are looking good for you."

"Thanks, Dad." I muttered.

"None of this talk about work; it's a holiday, dear." My mother chastised him. I mouthed her a silent thank you and took both of their coats, hanging them in the closet.

We went into the living room where everyone but Claudia was seated, waiting patiently for dinner. My father and Roger quickly fell into discussion of some business venture one or the other was making. Laurent poked his head in, feigning interest. I had my suspicions that, due to Roger's lack of a son to carry on the name, Laurent was under the hopeful impression that he might someday inherit the family business. Good luck to him if he eventually did.

My mother sat down on the loveseat closest to the window and patted the seat next to her. I took the invitation to sit next to her and she took my hand in hers.

"How are you really doing, Edward?"

"I'm fine, Mom, I promise. I'm just stressed out with this case."

"I can imagine. It's a lot to take on. No matter what happens, we still love you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mom, I know." happen to know my boy can handle it though."

"You've always been so driven and determined to make everyone proud. I just hope you're proud of yourself, Edward. At the end of the day that's what really matters. You could spend the rest of your life trying to please other people, but it isn't worth very much if you're not happy."

I'll never understand how my mother always knows the right thing to say, but I thank God that she does.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Edward. You know that, my sweet boy. Now, tell me about this lovely assistant you've hired that Uncle Carlisle's been raving about," she smiled.

"She's amazing, Mom, you have no idea." I spent the next half hour or so praising Bella to my mother. She seemed lost in thought at times during the conversation, but I couldn't stop myself from talking. I felt somewhat like a pubescent teenager, telling his mother about the new girl at school. I hoped I wasn't coming across that way, but I couldn't help but feel happy when I thought about her.

"Well, I certainly hope I get the chance to meet her someday."

I was about to make a fool of myself and tell her that I hope she does too when Claudia emerged from the kitchen announcing that dinner is ready. I spent nearly an hour listening to Irina start in about how the turkey was dry and I should have tried some other brand instead of the one I'd bought. In fact, she skillfully managed to find something wrong with nearly every dish prepared from the stuffing to the pumpkin pie. My mother smiled at my apologetically from her seat, assuring me in her own way that everything was perfectly fine.

Eventually, after my fifth or sixth glass of wine, I couldn't find it in me to care anymore.

My parents excused themselves shortly after dinner and I was left alone with the monster-in-laws. We decided to retire to the living room and everyone fell into conversation. Well, they fell into conversation; I fell into a glass of brandy. It had been a long time since I'd been drunk, I don't like to let myself get carried away with alcohol, but in this case the circumstances and my sanity called for it.

I listened vaguely as Irina launched into some tirade about how she detested Chicago and couldn't believe that Tanya had agreed to live here when we were married instead of staying in their beautiful Cambridge. With that, I'd had it. I got up and started to the door, unable to take anymore of the constant bitching.

"Where are you going, Edward?" Tanya called out.

"Upstairs," I muttered exiting the room.

I stopped to grab one last drink on my way to the master bedroom. I threw myself down on the bed and stared out the floor to ceiling window overlooking the city beneath me. I found myself longing to be with the people I really cared about instead of stuck here in holiday hell. What I would have given to be with my mother or Rose or Garret and Kate… or Bella.

Bella.

Once I let her name into my head it refused to leave, which is how I found myself breaking Binge Drinking Rule Number One: Do not, under any circumstances, text anyone. Ever.

It started out innocent enough; I wanted to wish her a happy Thanksgiving. I hoped like hell she was better off than I was. I hoped she was surrounded by friends in family in a warm house somewhere nice. I vaguely remembered her saying something about having dinner at the Hales'. I hoped I was right; Mr. and Mrs. Hale were wonderful people. I found myself wishing I was there too. I would have given anything to be with the whole lot of them. I would have given anything to be with her. She would know exactly how to make this night not suck. God, I missed her.

I scrolled through my contacts until I found her name and smiled when the blank message box appeared on my screen. I typed a quick message and hit the send button, smiling to myself in satisfaction. The message had used up the last of my energy and it wasn't long before I passed out in drunken stupor.

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and one hell of a hangover. I groaned and rolled over as memories from the night before started coming back to me in fragments. My mother's words of wisdom, Tanya's nagging mother, Irina's constant bitching, several alcoholic beverages, the text…

Oh, shit.

I scrambled up and looked around for my phone. It had fallen to the floor in the middle of the night and I almost dove to grab it. I hurriedly clicked my way to my sent messages, praying that I hadn't done anything too stupid.

~ Happy Thanksgiving, Bella! Miss you. – Edward

I assured myself that, in the grand scheme of things, it could have been far worse. I just told her that I missed her, friends could miss each other. It was perfectly normal for a friend to wish another friend a happy holiday and toss in the fact that they missed them. Wasn't it? Christ, we weren't in high school. It wasn't a big deal.

Except, I couldn't help but notice that Bella hadn't responded.

What if she took it the wrong way? What if she thought I was some creepy boss out to get her? Damn it. I didn't mean it in anything other than a friendly way. It was entirely platonic… wasn't it? Hell, I didn't even know how I meant it when I said it. I had absolutely no way to gauge her reaction or what she must think of me. I put my head in my hands and fought the urge to jump out the window. I was a complete and total ass. How was it that I managed to ruin everything so thoroughly?

I got myself together and made my way downstairs, expecting to receive pure hell from Tanya for getting shitfaced on Thanksgiving, but she just put a plate of breakfast in front of me and kept to herself. In fact, she doesn't say much for the entire weekend. On Friday, she went out shopping with her sister and mother, leaving me alone with her father and Laurent for the day. They more or less kept to themselves, which left me to stew over the mess I'd created. On Saturday, her family caught their plane back home. Tanya still didn't seem to be in much of a talking mood so I have her the space she needed. I knew I had fucked up where she was concerned as well.

All too soon, Monday morning rolled around.

I feigned a migraine and called the office to let them know I'd be coming in later than usual. The truth of the matter was I was too much of a chicken shit to face reality – or her – just yet.

Eventually, I knew I couldn't put off the inevitable anymore. I got to the office at around 9:45. I got in the elevator, which was pretty empty since most of the personnel had already arrived, and reluctantly hit the button for my floor. My heart just about beat out of my chest as the doors slide open. I received a few stares, in all the years I'd been at Cullen Howarth, I'd never so much as called in sick, much less shown up late. I turned down the hallway toward my office and saw her bent over the desk, her nose stuck in a file.

Somewhere, my mind registered that she looked beautiful sitting there with her tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated on her typing.

Another part of my mind reminded me that I may have fucked our friendship up entirely.

I walked over and apologized for being late. She met me with a smile and assured me that everything was fine. She handed me a file Carlisle had sent over and alerted me of a meeting he had set up. All in all, the conversation was pretty normal. I walked into my office, feeling slightly better if not entirely okay.

Maybe she'd never gotten the text message after all. Maybe everything was perfectly fine and I'd overacted. I wouldn't be the first time I'd gotten ahead of myself in a situation like this. Yes, everything must be perfectly fine. I felt like such an imbecile.

I spent the next two hours looking over the file Carlisle had sent with more details about the Weber case. I marked up the margins with notes of my own in preparation for the meeting. When I looked up, I saw that it was nearing lunch time. I put a smile on my face and grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair. Time for my favorite part of the day. I walked out of my office and smiled at Bella, asking her if she was ready to leave.

Then she spoke those vile words.

"Um, actually I've kind of made plans to eat with Jacob from Acadia today."

Jacob Black has singlehandedly become public enemy number one in my book. Bella hasn't been to lunch in nearly two weeks, which how I've found myself sitting here convinced that she must hate me. It's childish, I know, but I can't help but think it must have been me and my big drunk mouth that ruined everything.

Of course, I was stupid to let something as inconsequential as a few lunches mean so much to me. But it wasn't really the lunches themselves, it was the time spent with Bella outside of a work environment. The time when we got to be Edward and Bella, getting to know each other, becoming friends. It's not like I never see her, she's my damned assistant after all, but I don't see her the way I want to. I see her between meetings and when I need something faxed or written up.

To make matters worse, Tanya's been entirely cold since my little stunt at Thanksgiving. Between my wife's stony silence and the loss of the source of happiness I've had lately, I'm a complete mess.

I just hope you're proud of yourself, Edward.

My mother's words echo in my mind and I decide then and there that, no, I'm not proud of myself. I've spent far too much time pining over someone that was never meant to be mine. I have no right to be jealous of Jacob and the time he spends with Bella – it's not as if I have any claim on the poor girl. Furthermore, I should be focusing more on fixing my marriage. I've been selfish and it's time for me to man up and do what's necessary to set things right. Friendship with Bella should be more than enough for me. It is enough for me.

I fire up the internet on my computer and search for the number of a new restaurant I remember Sam mentioning a few weeks ago, something French. I call and make a dinner reservation for myself and Tanya for the next day, planning to surprise her with the news when I arrive at home. It isn't too late for me to pull my head out of my ass and get my shit together. This will be the first step in making that happen.

Tanya is weary when I tell her about my idea for a relaxing night out, but she eventually agrees. Saturday night rolls around and I dress myself presentably in a jacket and tie, even spraying on some Tanya's favorite cologne. I help her in and out of the Volvo and take her arm as we walk into the swanky French restaurant. I do absolutely everything a lover and a husband should. I follow every rule. It takes time, but as we wait to be seated, I can feel Tanya warming up to me. I watch as she admires the high vaulted ceilings and cool lighting of the restaurant. The waiters and waitresses all mill about in crisp white uniforms. It's a very high class establishment, indeed. I may not be entirely forgiven for my charade at Thanksgiving, but I'm well on my way. Maybe there's hope for us after all.

"Mr. Masen and Mrs. Masen, right this way," the maître d' calls when our table is ready. I take Tanya's hand with a smile and turn to follow him, when I stop dead in my tracks.

Because even from behind, I recognize her instantly.

"Bella?" I say without realizing that I'm vocalizing. Three pairs of eyes turn to me: Jacob Black, Tanya, and Bella. It's the last pair of eyes that make my heart clench. Bella's gaze is wide and unbelieving; as if she's wondering if she's just entered into some dream… or nightmare.

Am I being punished? Is this the universe's idea of a sick joke? The moment I decide to remove myself from her, here she is, dangled in front of me like a carrot.

"Hello, Edward. How are you?" Jacob is the first to break the silence.

"Fine. And you, Jacob?"

"I've been pretty well myself," he says looking down at Bella with a smile.

Smug bastard.

Tanya coughs then and I'm snapped back to the current situation. "I'm terribly sorry for being so rude. Jacob, Bella, this is my wife, Tanya. Tanya, this is Jacob Black, he works for the architecture firm in my building and this is Bella Swan, my assistant."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Masen," Bella mutters shyly.

"The pleasure's all mine, Bella. It's so nice to finally meet the lovely assistant my husband spends all his time with. At least you're pretty," Tanya replies coolly. The malice in her voice isn't lost on me and I watch in horror as Bella's eyes widen and she looks at the ground ashamed. There's no way I'm going to let Tanya's bitterness taint Bella and her sweet disposition.

"Come on, Tanya, I think it's time we've left," I say pulling her arm and directing her away from Bella and Jacob. "It was nice seeing you, Jacob, enjoy your evening. See you Monday, Bella."

Jacob and Bella mutter half-hearted goodbyes and I watch behind me as he wraps an arm around her, trying, I'm sure, to comfort her after my wife's less than polite introduction.

"What the hell was that?" I seethe at Tanya.

"What? I didn't see anything wrong with I did. It's a fact, since she's started there you seem to spend all your time at the office," she shrugs.

"We've been over this again and again. I have a huge case in progress right now, I thought you understood that."

"A huge case and a pretty young assistant, Edward—"

"Look, drop it. I didn't ask you to come out tonight to fight with you. Shut up and enjoy tonight, okay?"

"Fine," she sighs.

Try as I might, I can't heed my own advice. More than once during our meal, I find my eyes drifting to the table across the room where Bella sits with Jacob, enjoying a dinner of their own. They appear to be having a good time despite my wife's rudeness, but she seems distracted from him. I can't deny that this revelation brings me slight satisfaction. Tanya excuses herself to the restroom, so I let my gaze linger a little longer. Bella looks up at that moment and her eyes meet mine briefly, deep brown fixed on cool green. She looks away quickly and stares instead at the table cloth.

I don't necessarily believe in fate and all that bullshit. I've always thought that our destiny was something we create for ourselves, based upon our decisions and hard work. Something inside me, however, feels that this has to be more than mere coincidence. What are the odds that the second I resolve to move on from my misplaced fascination with Bella, she shows up in the same place I had intended to let her go? I'm no fool, I know better than to covet something that doesn't belong to me, but I'm finding her very hard to ignore. I guess it's true what they say.

The descent into hell is easy.

Hope you all enjoy!

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Until next time!