a/n: BTW, it's not mine.
Speaking of dogs, Carlisle and I had this heated discussion in 1962 about psychological theory. He had been thinking about taking a job in a psych hospital and I was trying very hard to dissuade him, mostly because treatment for mental illness wasn't really very sophisticated in those days and I figured it would be depressing to hear Carlisle think about lobotomies and electroshock therapy all the time. Also, because I didn't want to live in Cleveland. For the same reason, pretty much. Too depressing. I would end up needing therapy.
I'll spare you the boring details, but I will tell you that for all of his talk about "choices" and "free will", Carlisle is a pretty serious adherent to Pavlov's theory of operant conditioning. That's right; Mr. "Moral Fiber" is a total behaviorist. Hypocritical, right?
On a side note, you would think that an intelligent, 300-year-old man like Carlisle would know better than to argue with a mind reader. Seriously, I had nothing better to do than to listen to the inner workings of people's minds for three decades - you'd think he'd have given me the benefit of the doubt when I told him that conditioned responses just couldn't explain every ridiculous thing that human beings did. Look at New Jersey.
But I digress. My point in bringing this up is, despite the fact that I think that behavior modification only works with dogs, I began giving some serious thought to how I could duplicate the experiment. (You know, the one where Bella got tipsy and I got some alone time with her?) I know this sounds creepy, but honestly? I'm a vampire. Creepy is a given.
So, what with Alice's little mental blind spots, trying to get the coffee shop open for Black Friday, and the bunch of crap that Esme wanted us to do, I could barely talk to Bella before Thanksgiving, let alone engineer another inebriated late-night encounter.
I spend Thanksgiving, predictably, watching football and then dishing out yams to Port Angeles' downtrodden. At least it buys me some slack with Rose. Unlike Emmett, who decided that the "American Idol" marathon was more important than doing something nice for people, and will therefore spend the next week being shunned by his wife, and by the rest of us, if we know what's good for us.
I will admit, just between us, that I was dressed for work on Thursday a good seven hours before I needed to be there. I also might or might not have rehearsed what I wanted to say to Bella a couple times in the mirror.
It was all for naught, however, because I don't get a chance to speak to Bella all day, we're so busy. All I get is a brief, "it was fine," and a quick eye roll when I ask her how her Thanksgiving had gone.
It was small consolation that I do have a coworker who wants to speak to me, a female no less. As I'm closing up for the day, a bit disappointed that Bella had already gone home and I haven't had a chance to "touch base," as they say, Angela asks if she can speak with me.
I should mention that Angela had been in an effusive mood all day, but I had been too preoccupied with my own concerns to ask what had her so happy. Because I am a bad friend.
"I just wanted to tell you," Angela say to me, with a brilliant smile. "I felt really… inspired by you. So inspired that I made a decision."
I look at her quizzically. "You know how my dad wouldn't let me move to Seattle because he was worried about Ben and I?" she continues.
I nod. Angela's dad was a minister and had insisted that Angela stay at home while her boyfriend went to school at the University of Washington. Because that's all it takes to get two kids to not sleep together, right? Really, it had just made Angela sad and Ben even weirder. The last time I saw him he was just a little too into online role-playing.
"Well, I decided if you have the guts to go after someone who doesn't like you…"
I clear my throat at her and she laughs. "You know what I mean! I figured if you had the guts to go after what you wanted, so could I. I'm moving to Seattle. My dad is mad, but he'll get over it." Angela shrugs her shoulders. Honestly, she doesn't seem that concerned about her dad's response. Which is kind of funny because I'm like six times older than her and I am afraid to move out of my "dad's" house. Mostly she looks really...happy. So happy that I decide not to give her a big guilt trip about how she's my best human friend and how can she abandon me. I think about it, though.
I assume that the "living in sin" scandal of 2011 will have little other effect on me besides taking away my only confidant with a pulse, so I am ill-prepared for the trap I walk into on the Tuesday morning after my day off. A day off that I spent installing sound insulation in Alice and Jasper's new room, by the way. This house is just not built for vampire hearing, especially when one of the vampires in question is feeling a little sensitive about his lack of…companionship. But that's beside the point.
I haven't seen Bella in two days, so I'm looking forward to seeing her as I get into work that morning.
She's not due in to work until noon, so I spend the morning getting as much of my ordering done as I can so that I can work with Bella in the afternoon. I know that Ryan has assigned her to work on setting up the Christmas decorations, and I'm hoping that hanging garlands and stringing lights around bookshelves is her idea of a good time. Unfortunately, all this will be accompanied by hideous Christmas music, at least until Ryan leaves at 6 o'clock, at which point we can put something on that isn't Mannheim Steamroller or "Let There Be Drums".
You can imagine my shock when Ryan, walking towards me with a dark-skinned woman in tow, interrupts my planning. A somewhat… lupine young lady.
He didn't! I'm all for cultural and species diversity, but Ryan has gone and hired himself a werewolf - or a shape shifter, if you prefer. Dammit! We'll never get that smell out of the carpets.
"Edward," Ryan says, beaming at me. "I want you to meet our new employee. Leah, this is Edward, my assistant manager. Edward, Leah Clearwater."
Cue sound of screeching tires here. I have to admit that I stare at wolf-girl for a minute before offering my once good-smelling hand to her. She winces imperceptibly but retains the friendly smile on her face. In her thoughts is…Bella?
I stare at her. "Nice to meet you, Leah," I say, not meaning it.
Ryan looks over his shoulder at the registers, where Jessica seems to be struggling with the concept of taking a customer's money in exchange for product.
"Hey, Edward, can you show Leah where the back door is and where to park? She's coming in early Wednesday for her first day." I nod at Ryan and gesture Leah to the back of the store. As soon as we get outside I turn to her and scowl.
"You have to work here? You can't get a job as a service dog or something?" Leah rolls her eyes at me but doesn't say the rude retort that's in her head. Too bad I can read her furry mind, right?
"Listen, it's not like there's a lot of jobs on the rez. I thought you, of all people, would understand trying to fit in. You ghouls don't even need the money!"
"How well do you know Bella? You were thinking about her in there." I consider that, if this is a friend of hers, maybe playing nice will get me an insider advantage. Unfortunately, Leah winces and thinks about a tall, dark-haired man. Her imprint, Jacob.
"Holy shit! Are you kidding me! You're the one who imprinted on her old boyfriend!"
"We imprinted on each other," she says, raising her chin at me.
"I don't care if you're blood brothers! You're really going to make her see you everyday at work? That's just cruel!"
"What do you care, you overgrown mosquito?" She cocks an eyebrow at me.
"Besides," she continues. "She and I are going to be step-sisters soon enough. She may as well get used to it." I can see in the dog-brain that she actually feels bad for what happened, but doesn't want it to get in the way of her mom's happiness with the Chief. Her getting a job here is a way for her to show Sue and Charlie that she and Bella can get along just fine. It's kind of admirable in a "pissing me off" way.
"Well, park over there, and keep your resume updated because there is no way that this is working out." I glare at her one last time before walking back in and closing the door on her.
I find Ryan and drag him into the coffee shop so Jessica can't overhear.
"You can't hire her," I say to him, looking him in the eye.
"It's too late," he says, waving to Alice. Who didn't see any of this coming. Useless. I've had Magic 8 Balls that worked better than her.
"You have to tell her something. She can't work here," I insist. Ryan hears the seriousness of my voice and looks at me curiously.
"What's the problem?" he says.
"She stole Bella's boyfriend from her in high school. Bella will be totally uncomfortable." Ryan raises an eyebrow at me.
"I don't get it. First you hate her; now you guys are buddies? Bella is an adult; she'll handle it."
"Ryan, come on," I say, practically begging. "Please?" OK, that's actually begging, no "practically" about it.
"I can't, Edward," Ryan says, holding up his palms helplessly. "We need someone to replace Angela and she had a good application. Plus, I already hired her. It's done."
I scowl at Ryan and walk back into the store, where I throw myself into getting my ordering done and thinking about smothering Ryan with a pillow. Or slicing his neck with one of his Christmas cds.
Unfortunately, talking about the "Leah" situation with Ryan was an enormous tactical error. I guess some girls, Bella among them, get embarrassed when their bosses know that kind of stuff about their love lives. That moron Ryan threw me under the bus, telling Bella that I was the one who told him. Within ten minutes of getting to work, Bella had gone from feeling neutral on the subject of me to feeling something more akin to "fuck that guy for telling Ryan something I told him in confidence." That's actually a direct quote.
Alice tries to console me after Bella walks past me with a box of Christmas cards and a scowl.
"You didn't know," she says. "Maybe Bella will understand that you meant to be helpful."
"You use the word 'maybe' an awful lot for someone who is supposed to see the future, Alice." I hunch against the wall that separates the store from the coffee shop, watching Bella ignore me.
"I don't know what it is," she says, frowning. "I've never had anything like it happen to me before. Things will be clear, and then they get all blurry and whole sections of time just disappear."
"Well, I'm off work. I guess if she won't talk to me I'll just go home and wallow there. It's either that or slip ecstasy into her latte."
Alice gasps. "You can't do that! It's totally illegal and she could get sick!"
I stare at her blankly. "It was a joke, Alice," I say, rolling my eyes at her. Alice nods at me, preoccupied.
"You could try anti-depressants, though…" she says, her eyes hazy.
"You spent too much time with the Volturi. I don't think that slipping a girl drugs is an ethical way to get her to like you."
"Fine," Alice says, shrugging. "Do it the hard way." She fixes her chin at me and says, more certain: "You know, I think that there are two kinds of people. Those who do whatever it takes to get the one they love, and those who just don't love that person that much."
"That's crazy," I say. "Besides, I'm not really in love with her. I'm just interested in her. There's a difference."
"The difference between being willing to take a risk and wallowing at home with Emmett," Alice huffs.
"I'm not talking to Emmett," I remind her. "Rose would be pissed."
I've had things go south with Bella because of my own stubborn assholishness, but I never expected to piss her off with my efforts to protect her. This "relationship" thing is complicated. I guess that explains the entire popular music industry, huh? Except that one song, "Green Onions." I still don't know what that one's about.
a/n: Where to begin? Three weeks is a really long time to wait for an update this banal. A thousand apologies. You know me, I am a slave to plot.
Big groveling thanks to Raum, Darcy's Mom and PurelyAmuse for recc'ing this nonsense on their blogs as well as all the others who peddle my brand of crazy on ADF, Twitter and elsewhere. You guys deserve more than I am emotionally equipped to give you.
I appreciate all you guys who are reading, reviewing and otherwise enabling my insanity. xoxo JuJu