Chapter 11 – Cullen's Eight Fancy Meeting You Here!

It was a beautiful evening in the desert oasis of Las Vegas. Edward was feeling confident and in his element as the game was now well underfoot.

In the high stakes rollers room the atmosphere was quiet, elegant and tense. There was one table operating in the corner and at it sat Carlisle, as Mikhel Sheen. He furtively peels at the roll of Rolaids and slips one in his mouth.

An Asian highroller looked at him and asked, "Weak stomach, Mr. Sheen?"

Carlisle's demeanor turned to stone cold power as he turned to the gentleman and cuttingly replied, "I don't believe in weakness. It costs too much. I don't believe in questions, either."

That shut the Asian High Roller up fast. Carlisle looks up from the table, just perceptibly, to spot Jacob Black, on his way in, right on schedule. He approaches the PIT BOSS by the entrance.

Jacob inquired, "Tommy, anything for me?"

"Mr. Sheen, Sir. Mikhel Sheen. In the third position. Wishes to speak with you privately."

"Who is he?" Jacob mused as he glanced over to see the man whom had requested an audience with him.

"Best I understand Sir, he's a Businessman of some kind, working mostly in Europe. He's very vague, but I asked around. Word is he deals primarily in arms. One of the biggest." Tommy reported, proud of himself for being on top of his job and hoping to impress Mr. Black. He was planning on asking for a promotion in a few months and this was just another building block.

"Sheen? Never heard of him." Jacob frowned.

"Yessir. That's why I don't doubt it." Tommy offered a small but demurred smile.

"He's staying here?" Jacob inquired.

"Checked in two nights ago, sir. He's in the Mirador suite."

"How's he doing?" Jacobs's eyes tightened in scrutiny.

"He's up sir. Almost to forty grand now." Tommy held a quick breath awaiting Jacobs response.

Jacob never flinched as he knew he couldn't duck out of this, "Well, Good for him!"

Meanwhile….

In the Picasso Restaurant Bella Cullen sits in a booth and sips at a glass of wine while she awaits Jacob to join her for dinner. She was elegantly dressed in a sequined little black strapless number that accented her every curve. Her mahogany tresses were loosely gathered at the nape of her neck and hung midways down her back. She was impeccable, a very pretty woman indeed. She checked her watch and Jacob is late or very close to being so... .. when all of a sudden a pair of hands slips over her shoulders and starts to caress her arms.

Without even looking up, "You're thirty seconds late. I was about to send out a search party…" and as the hand on her arm slid down lower, she glanced and recognized that hand and sirens, bells and alarms went off all through her body. She turned stunned and shocked, "Edward!"

Edward just stood there towering over her grinning from ear to ear. The very same lopsided grin that he knew made her go weak in the knees.

"Hello, Bella." Edward's voice crooned.

Bella as thrilled and petrified to see him, but as thrilled as she was, it was overshadowed by her outrage. "What are you doing here?"

Edward cocked his head to the side as he intently examined her, nearly undressing her with his eyes, "I'm out. I made early parole for being a model prisoner. I charmed the pants off the parole board and well… here I am!"

"So what do you want me to do Edward? Applaud? Well… You're out. Good for you." Bella seethed as she caught a locket of hair in her finger and began to twirl it. It was a nervous fidgeting habit she had.

"Yes, I'm finally out of prison. One day I went for cigarettes and never came back. You must have noticed I stopped calling and begging you to come home to me." Edward said as he moved to sit down next to her.

"Don't. Please. Don't sit Edward." Bella sternly addressed.

Edward didn't pay her any attention. He sat down anyway. "They said I'd paid my debt to society. I guess I am debt free now."

Bella scoffed, "Funny, I never got a check."

Edward turned up the heat and his smile deepened while Bella could only stare daggers into his chest.

Bella and Edward both spoke at the same time. Bella said, "You can't stay." Edward said, "It's good to see you."

Edward glanced down at Bella's hand lying on the table. How he longed to feel her touch. He imagined her taking his face between those two precious instruments of love guilded with ten wonderfully talented fingers and just then he noticed, "You're not wearing your ring."

Without missing a beat, Bella took another sip of wine, "I sold it. And I don't have a husband. Or didn't you get the papers?"

Edward tried to maintain a pleasant disposition, "Yes, my last day on the inside."

"Well Good… I told you I'd write." Bella flatly deadpanned.

Edward couldn't contain himself any longer. He reached his hand, the one with his wedding band and he reached to take her ringless hand in his, but she removed it from the table.

"Edward. Go. Now. Before..." Bella let go in a whoosh of breath.

"Why? Jacob?" Edward inferred.

Bella froze. Edward knew. Her expression is horrified.

"It's okay." Edward responded. He turned to the waiter and held up his fingers demonstrating one large wiskey and then he showed one small wiskey.

"Edward…" Bella said frustrated and anxious.

"You're doing a great job curating the museum. I'm really very proud of you. You have such exquisite taste and such a talent and love for the arts." Edward poured on thickly.

She sighed, exasperated but couldn't find the words to rebut his declarations.

"The Vermeer is quite good. Simple but vibrant. Although his work definitely fell off as he got older."

"Remind you of anyone?" Bella quipped.

"And I still get Monet and Manet confused. Which one married his mistress?" Edward engaged.

"Monet." Bella flatly replied.

"Right. Manet was the one who had syphilis." Edward chortled.

"And.. They also painted occasionally." Bella remarked.

"You don't know how many times I played this conversation out in my head the last two years." Edward sighed and genuinely looked deeply into her eyes searching for anything remotely comforting there.

"Did it always go this poorly?" Bella couldn't understand where this quick sharp wit was coming from. She usually isn't this quick on her feet, but Edward brings it out in her.

"Yes." Edward ran a hand through his hair admittedly.

"Sounds frustrating." Bella offered.

"Bella Love, You were never easy. Okay. I'll make this quick. I came here for you. I'm gonna get on with my life, and I want you with me." Edward confessed.

"You're a thief and a liar Edward. I don't want any part of that ever again." Bella flatly hurled.

"I only lied about being a thief. But I don't do that anymore." Edward stated.

"Steal?" Bella redirected.

"Lie." Edward clarified.

"Well for your information, I'm with someone now who doesn't have to make that kind of distinction." Bella hoped she was convincing and she suspected her cut would go deep.

"No, you're right. He's very clear on both." Edward bristled just a bit.

"Nice. Work on that for two years, too?" Bella sarcastically replied.

"Nah, just a year and a half." Edward smiled at her and he saw just a faint hint that he might just be getting to her.

Bella offered a light smile. "Do you know what your problem is?"

Edward took a sip of his whiskey, "I only have one?"

"You've met too many people like you. I'm with Jacob now." Bella remarked without any influx in her voice.

"Bella, Are you happy? Does he make you laugh?" Edward inquired as he let his chin rest on his hand and he leaned into her for an answer.

"He doesn't make me cry." Was all Bella could honestly answer.

Meanwhile back to the High Rollers Room…

Carlisle bets heavily for the bank and Jacob approaches, stands off to the right, watching.

The Asian High Roller said to Carlisle noticing his heavy bet, "You don't want to get in the hole too heavy to this Jacob. A friend of mine once borrowed a hundred g's from the guy. Two months went by, Jacob hadn't heard from him, he calls my friend up, asks 'Where's my money?' I'll get to it when I get to it,' my friend says. Half hour later Jacob's in my friend's hotel room, dangling him off his 10th floor balcony by his feet. 'You gonna get to it now?' And the high roller turns over a nine and Carlisle wins.

Laurent announced, "Bank wins - natural nine." And Jacob stepped forward.

The Asian highroller turned, "Hiya Jacob."

"Mr. Yomishi. How's everything?" Jacob smiled and shook his hand.

Yomishi answered, "Eh. They put too much grenadine in my Shirley Temple."

"And here I thought you were drinking vodka." Jacob turned his attention to Carlisle, "Mr. Sheen."

"Mr. Black. I recognize you from the TV. You know, nine casinos out of ten, owner comes up in the middle of the hand to ask me what I want. I respect your waiting." Carlisle replied.

"You're the guest, sir." Jacob smiled.

"And I have to impose on your hospitality. Can you sit in for a hand?" Carlisle smoosed.

"I'd love to, Mr. Sheen, but the gaming board would feed me to the wolves." Jacob answered.

"That's a shame. You're the king of Vegas and you have to play craps in the alley." Carlisle was in his element tonight.

"No shame at all. Reminds me of my youth. I used to shoot craps down on a reservation called LaPush." Jacob grinned.

Jacob and Carlisle were huddled in a corner. "The fight is Saturday, is it not?" Carlisle inquired.

"Yes. I can get you seats..." Jacob offered.

"No, no. Hand-to-hand combat doesn't interest me. I have a package arriving here Saturday evening. A black briefcase, standard size, the contents of which are very valuable to me." Carlisle replied.

Jacob smiled, " I'd be happy to put it in the house safe for you."

"The house safe is for brandy and grandmother's pearls. I'm afraid I need something more secure." Carlisle baited.

"I can assure you, the house safe is utterly..." Jacob stopped his sentence. Something in the look that Carlisle was wearing stopped him cold.

"I can assure you, Mr. Black, your generosity in this matter will not go overlooked. Now: what can you offer me besides the safe?" Carlisle asked.

Right now, Carlisle's eyes are pure steel: he is not a man familiar with being denied. And Jacob recognizes that fact.

Meanwhile…. Back in the Picasso Restaurant of the Bellagio…

"See, the kind of people you steal things from, they have insurance to compensate them. They get made whole again. I had to leave Washington State to get away from what happened. How do I get my five years back, Edward?" Bella glared coldly at him, her heart demanding an answer.

Sadly Edward looked into her eyes. "You can't baby. But what you can do is not throw away another five years."

"You don't know anything about…" Bella snorted.

Edward leaned closer in, "Listen, you don't love me anymore, you want to make a life with someone else? Fine, I'll have to live with that. But not him."

"Spoken like a true ex-husband." Bella admonished.

"I'm not joking, Bella." Edward sternly stated.

"And I'm not laughing." Bella quipped. "Besides, you have to admit there's a conflict of interest when you give me advice about my love life."

Edward exhales and leans back. "Yes. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Bella looks at him, and maybe part of her knows that he isn't wrong. She looks down at his ring, somewhat wistful. Edward noticed her looking at it.

"Do you remember what I said to you when we first met?" Bella asked almost nostalgically.

"Yes, you said that I'd better know what I was doing." Edward remembered.

"And now? Do you? Now? Because - truly - you should walk out the door if you don't." Bella replied.

"I know what I'm doing." Edward replied.

Just then Jacob walked up behind Edward, "What are you doing?" Jacob was hovering over them, fresh from his meeting with Carlisle.

"Catching up for old times sake." Edward turned to reply to Jacob.

Bella turned to see Jacob, "Jacob, meet my ex-husband..."

"Edward Cullen." He said as he extended his hand for a shake.

Jacob took Edwards hand, "Mr. Cullen." Then he turned to Bella, "Forgive me my dear for being late. A guest required my attention."

"Edward was just walking through the restaurant and spotted me." Bella told Jacob.

"Is that right?" Jacob looked amused.

"I was shocked myself. Imagine the odds." Edward smiled.

Jacob laughed in agreement, "Of all the gin joints in all the world… You've been in prison until recently, isn't that right? How does it feel to be out?"

Edward scratched his chin and stretched his face, "About the same. Everything you want is still on the other side."

"There's the human condition for you." Jacob rebuffed.

"Jacob, Edward was just about to..." Bella cut in.

Edward caught his que, "I just wanted to say hello. For old time's sake."

"Please stay and finish your drink if you like." Jacobs refined demeanor was unruffled.

"He can't." Bella quickly added. Simultaneously Edward replied, "I can't."

Bella and Edward caught each other's eye for a moment. It was an old habit. They often thought on the same wavelength and finished each other's sentences, or said the same thing at the same time.

There was an awkward moment of silence and then Jacob takes Bella's hand in his.

"Well, then I don't imagine we'll be seeing you again, Mr. Cullen." Jacobs tone held an underlying threat.

"You never know." Edward replied.

"I know everything that happens in my hotels." Jacob overconfidently replied.

"So I should put those towels back?" Edward laughed.

"The towels you can keep." Jacob snickered.

Edward stood and smiled warmly at Bella. "Good seeing you again, Bella."

"Take care, Edward." She wished him farewell, knowing good and well, this would not be the last time she would see Edward Cullen and a part of her desperately hoped she would see him again, and very soon.

As Edward left, Bella turned to Jacob, "I'm sorry."

Faster than lighting, Jacob shot "Don't be."

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A/N I know it's been longer than I had hoped to get this chapter finished. I hope to work on others upcoming more frequently. As I said, when I hear from my readers… it gives me encouragement to work more rapidly. I hope you enjoyed… and please… take just a moment to offer a quick or indepth review to let me know how you are liking the story so far.

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