Chapter 10 - On the Outside
I preferred stuffed animals to Barbies when I was young. The few dolls that were unfortunate enough to be in my possession suffered painful deaths by dismemberment. Mostly, it was petty jealousy that drove me to such violent acts. The Barbies represented everything that I was not: skinny, tall, blonde, blue-eyed…perfect.
Those carefree girls were always confident and popular, always surrounded by friends. They never stayed home alone on Friday and Saturday nights or had to listen to the sounds of college parties they weren't invited to—like I did. Even at a stereotypical "geek" school like MIT, I had a difficult time fitting in.
The computer screen blurs in front of my eyes, and I blink to refocus. I should be concentrating on updating the project's Plan of Action and Milestones spreadsheet instead of listening to my team's end-of-the-day chatter. But it's difficult to tune out their conversations when I feel so envious.
Ben and Angela are talking about their dinner plans for the evening. The co-workers began dating a month ago and seem to be doing well. Eric just finished complaining to Tyler about his toddler's fits and is now listening to the latter caution him that teenagers can throw tantrums just as horrific, perhaps worse. The men begin to discuss an upcoming baseball game they're going to together.
My wishful sigh is lost in the sound of three dull thumps. Tyler cracks open the card-coded door and pokes his head into the hallway. All of us in the workspace stare at him in curiosity when he retreats back inside.
"There's a LCDR Cullen here who wants to see you, Ms. Swan."
Ignoring the quickening of my pulse, I smile at Tyler for his formal use of my last name. He knows I appreciate professionalism when interacting with non-team members. After a quick security scan to make sure nothing confidential or trade-restricted is lying out, I nod for Tyler to admit Edward.
Oddly enough, everyone is in a sudden hurry to go home for the day. I raise an eyebrow at the flurry of activity, but Angela just grins at me as she nudges Ben out the door. By the time Edward has crossed the floor to my workstation, we're alone in the room.
I'm rather surprised to see a frown marring his beautiful features. Instinctively, I straighten in my chair and adopt my most detached demeanor.
"Can I help you, Commander*?"
He sits down in a chair opposite my desk and meets my gaze. Another unexpected sight: the green in his eyes almost seems clouded. His hand runs through his hair and lingers at the back of his neck.
"I know this is none of my business, but…can I ask you something?"
I purse my lips and tilt my head. "Another joke?" I say dryly.
"Definitely not." He inhales a deep breath as if steeling himself or gathering courage. "I noticed your friend at the hotel after I was leaving the restaurant. He was…getting into the back of a police cruiser. I looked around but didn't see you, so I wasn't positive you knew about it. Like I said, it's not my place to get involved—I don't know what your relationship is with him or anything—but if he's in some kind of trouble with the law…I just thought you should be aware."
Edward shifts uncomfortably in the chair, and while I want to say something to put him at ease, my mouth is too dry to speak right away.
Showing obvious concern, his eyes grow wide at my hesitation. "Oh shit, he didn't…? Damn. I was hoping that you weren't…I mean…are you okay?" He leans forward in his seat as if to stand up but then forces out a breath and sits back, trying to be patient.
Even as I dismiss his worries with a shake of the head, my hand reacts, covering the bruised section of my arm underneath my blouse.
"I'm fine. It was just a…misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about."
His skeptical expression shows obvious doubt over my version of the event. I fold my arms over my chest and harden my features despite the urge to run from the room in tears.
"Hmm, if you say so" is his reluctant reply.
We sit silently for a few moments, staring at one another. I presume he's taking my measure and lift my chin defiantly. I know how to play this game.
Then his shoulders relax, and he grants me a lazy grin.
"You know, I had another reason for tracking you down. I need your help."
"Oh?"
I assert how disinterested I am in his words by packing up my belongings to leave. This time he does angle forward, resting his forearms flat atop of my desk.
"Well, this area isn't all that familiar to me. I'm tired of eating at the hotel and would love to find an interesting place for dinner—something small and unpretentious. Any ideas?"
An image of my favorite Greek restaurant springs to mind. A smile almost breaks through my stoic façade at the thought of its delicious food, and Edward picks up on it immediately.
"I know you've got something good," he prods. "But, I have to confess that I'm not great with directions. You could really do me a favor by coming along and showing me the way."
My nerves tingle with excitement. Outwardly, however, I roll my eyes at his lame attempt to ask me to dinner.
"A warship captain who's bad with directions? That's a scary thought."
He affords me an appropriately sheepish grin. "Um, I had a good navigator?"
"I'm sure you did." My voice is liquid condescension.
"Really, I did! So, uh…are you up for the job?"
"Wouldn't you rather have your blond friend do it?" I regret the words and their bitter undertone the moment they pass my lips. Though I wish I was in the same league as his Barbie paragon of perfection, I don't want him to learn the depth of my insecurity.
His tender scoff is confusing until he explains.
"A small and unpretentious restaurant isn't really my sister's gig. She's more of a five-star-establishment kind of woman."
"Oh."
His sister. I refuse to analyze why I'm relieved to discover that. Standing up, I shoulder my leather messenger bag and reach for my car keys.
Edward rises to his feet as well. "Does this mean yes, you'll go with me to dinner?" he asks.
Rejection is on the tip of my tongue. I'm too afraid, worried that I won't be able to maintain my confident pretense, that he'll see through me—who I really am—and then look at me with the same revulsion I feel every day.
"Come on, Bella. I won't crack a single joke the whole time, I swear."
The corner of my mouth twitches. I promised myself I would try.
"How do you feel about Greek?"
*Although Edward is a Lieutenant Commander, those of that rank are typically addressed using only the Commander portion of the title because of the length. LCDRs are jokingly called "phone commanders" because strangers on the other end of the line won't know if it's the more junior rank unless they ask.
Thanks so much to TLS and MariahajilE for the mention! Welcome to new readers. :)
ps-I posted 2 chapters the other day. Chapter 8 is about Bella's experience immediately after the incident with Jake.