Many thanks for all the reviews and enthusiasm! There's a new Live Journal entry this week. Link on my profile.

Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story. The remainder is our original work. Copyright 2009 by spanglemaker9 and justaskalice. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without our express written authorization.

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I often compare my life in Paris to my life in Forks. In some ways, I feel like I'm starting something here that's completely beyond anything I had back home. Royce's house is extravagant, although I'm used to it now. Aunt Helen would never have let us use his every day china except for the most important guests! Fancy dresses, jewelry and champagne are part of the everyday scenery. There's always another event, another party; it's exciting. Other times, though, I miss the simplicity of life in Washington. It's mostly little things: hanging the sheets out to dry on a rare sunny afternoon, going down to the ice cream parlor for a sundae after dinner, or sitting out at First Beach with you watching the sunset. Silly, I know. I'm happy here.

*0*0*

Waiting for Jasper to come up with the last piece of the puzzle was difficult. Every day I waited for Alice to get home, giving her the same anxious face when she opened the door. And every day she shook her head sadly and gave me a small smile.

"He'll get the address, Bella," she would say soothingly. "Jasper is very good at what he does."

He may have been good at his job, but he was also brusque and surly. I couldn't see the attraction, but Alice was completely smitten. He walked her home from work almost every day, often staying for dinner before disappearing with her for the evening. While Alice was talkative and optimistic, Jasper rarely spoke, and when he did his words were laced with skepticism. More than once I wondered what could have happened to him that leave him so disillusioned.

I was rarely alone, Edward saw to that. He walked with me to the market in the mornings and in the afternoons I'd accompany him to whatever quai he was painting at that day before heading home to make dinner. I would have argued, but with no job, no leads, and no cat to take care of, my days were fairly empty. Besides, watching Edward paint was fascinating.

One of the first things I discovered was that he made faces when he concentrated. He was completely unaware of it, which made it that much more endearing. He would purse his lips and frown, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he focused on his subject. When something was coming together, his whole face would lighten and relax. His eyebrows seemed to move independent of the rest of his face, waggling oddly as he filled his brush or measured a troublesome angle. Sometimes it took all I had not to giggle.

The oddest part about those afternoons with Edward was watching the way he interacted with his customers… his female customers in particular. This Edward was confident and smooth. He never stuttered, although once and a while I did catch him throwing me nervous glances as he bartered with the women who came to buy his art. The smiles he offered to those who bought something were breathtaking, of course, but they weren't the same smiles he gave me. The smile he reserved especially for me was warm and lingering, and often slightly cocky and knowing, as if he knew that the second he looked at me my heart started to pound.

While watching Edward was captivating, after the first day I started to notice the other passersby on the quais where he painted. Colorful characters surrounded us, jabbering in English, French, Italian and German. It sparked at my imagination, and their stories beckoned to me invitingly. I dug the worn composition notebook from the bottom of my suitcase and borrowed a pen from Alice, and the next day I began to fill pages with sketches and doodles. It was the first time I had written anything consistently in years.

In the evenings, Edward revealed a different part of himself. He opened up and laid himself bare for the customers who came to drink, smoke, and dance in the dark, smoky main room at Le Tabou. I sat at a tiny table right next to the stage within eyeshot of the stage and stared shamelessly during his sets. I didn't want to come at first, but Edward insisted, saying he wasn't comfortable with the thought of me sitting at home alone when Alice was out and he was busy at the club. After the first night, I never objected again. There was something graceful, almost feline, about the way he moved, and after every song his eyes would search out my own and stare for just a few seconds. It was romantic on a scale I hadn't even considered before, and he did it without saying a single word. Sometimes Emmett would come along and sit with me, and we would trade stories about our childhoods in the States, and Edward and Rosalie.

On nights when Edward didn't play at Le Tabou, he would beg me to visit him at Esme's. He'd give me a sidelong glance and a heartbreaking smile and say, "Debussy misses you. He won't even eat when you're not there. Please?"

He was always careful to couch it in terms that didn't include himself. "Debussy hasn't seen you for a few days," or, "Esme was asking about you, won't you come over for a visit?" After the day of the attack, he didn't mention his feelings for me again. He held my hand often, and it was rare that a visit with Edward didn't include a few searing kisses, but we seemed to have an unspoken agreement not to talk about it. That was fine with me, because I had no idea what I would say if he brought it up.

"I'm starting to care about you a lot, but as soon as I find my friend I'm planning on traveling thousands of miles away and I'll probably never come back."

That answer left a little to be desired.

"There's a boy back home who thinks we'll get married some day, but I've never felt even a tenth of what I feel around you with him."

That seemed overly dramatic, not to mention the fact that actually telling Edward about my feelings for him would make it all seem more real, somehow. With every day that passed, I felt myself grow more unsure about what my future held. I felt like I was on some kind of extra long vacation, separated from reality.

I had been in Paris for just under two weeks when Jasper finally came up with the information we needed. I was sitting with Edward in his garret, trying to coax Debussy out from behind Edward's tattered arm chair. The two of them hadn't bonded quite as quickly as I hoped they would. And by that I mean that Edward barely tolerated the cat, and Debussy took every opportunity to bite, growl, and hiss at Edward. I was sure that all they needed was some quality time together, so every time I came over I would pull Debussy out from whatever hidey hole he was wedged in and sit near Edward, swatting Debussy lightly when he growled.

"Just leave the bloody cat in peace," Edward begged. He squatted behind me and brushed my hair away from my neck. His hot breath raised goose bumps on my skin. "We'll all be much happier if the cat stays where he is." I felt his lips drag lightly under my ear, and his hands snuck up to my waist, pulling me lightly against his chest.

"You don't have to be so mean to him," I murmured, turning my head slightly so his lips touched my cheek. Our physical relationship confused me, but it was hard to resist the feelings that he evoked in me. I held myself in check, wanting him but not being sure how wise a feeling that was.

"We're mean to each other," he responded lightly, pulling away. "We share a mutual disrespect."

I opened my mouth to argue with him but stopped when I heard thundering footsteps on the stair. A few seconds later, Jasper, Alice, and Emmett burst into Edward's garret. Alice looked positively radiant, beaming from ear to ear. Emmett shot us his usual dimply grin, and even Jasper's customary scowl seemed softer than usual.

"He got it!" Alice squealed, running over to where I sat and lowering herself onto the floor. It was a sign of how excited she was that she didn't even flinch about sitting on Edward's dusty attic floor. "Royce's address, Jasper finally found it."

My face split into a grin and I looked up at Jasper. "Really? What are we waiting for? Let's go over there now and talk to him."

Jasper walked over to the little kitchen area and sat on a rickety wooden chair. "We have to be careful about how we approach this guy. I heard some funny things when I was trying to hunt him down. Then there's the little matter of how he ordered a couple of goons to attack you."

Edward grimaced and reached out for my hand. I let him take it, but looked at both of them with disbelief.

"We don't have any proof that Royce is connected with those men outside Alice's place. All we know is they work with James, who is somehow connected to Royce. And what kind of funny things?"

Emmett walked forward and joined Jasper at the table. "After we talked, I started asking around, just to see if I could dig anything up that would help Jasper."

Jasper pressed his lips in a thin line, and his scowl returned in full force. It struck me as an odd reaction to have to Emmett, who seemed to genuinely care about helping me find Rose.

"I couldn't find anyone who could tell me what exactly Royce does here in Paris," Emmett continued, unfazed by Jasper's less than friendly facial expressions. "I run in a pretty wide circle of businessmen, and I found a few guys who knew of Royce King, but that's as far as I was able to get. Everyone got very tight lipped when I started pressing for details."

"I did find out more about our friend James LaFave," Jasper cut in. "It seems his drug trade is just a side business. His real moneymaker is blackmail. Apparently he's an expert at finding people and ferreting out dirty little secrets."

"Did you find out how he's connected to Royce?" I asked. James sounded like a nasty character, but I was holding out hope that Royce had legitimate reasons for associating with him. The alternative was that Rose had somehow fallen in with a criminal, and that was too terrifying to consider at the moment.

"No, but it's something I plan to ask when we call on him," Jasper growled.

Edward nodded curtly. "Royce has a lot to answer for," he agreed. "I think the three of us should be able to… persuade him to give us the information we're looking for."

"Men like him are all cowards at heart," Jasper said with a grim smile. Even Emmett cracked his knuckles and nodded solemnly.

"You're just going to charge in there and start throwing punches?" I asked, exasperated. "What if Rose is in serious trouble? He's not going to tell you anything if you barge in there like a herd of elephants! I'm sure if I could just talk to him—"

"You're not coming," Edward growled. His grip on my hand tightened. "I'm not about to let you walk into a potentially dangerous situation. You'll stay here with Alice and Esme. We can handle this."

"The hell she will!" Alice interrupted. "It's nice of you boys to help us out, and we're grateful, but Bella and I started this thing and we're going to finish it."

"We'll come right back after we talk to him," Edward said calmly. "If Rose is with him, we'll bring her with us. If not you girls are certainly free to come with us when we go to fetch her."

"I can't believe you expect us to sit around and wait while you have all the fun," Alice fumed. "We don't need to be babysat, and we're just as capable of asking questions as you are."

"You're not coming and that's final," Jasper said, turning the full force of his dark glare on her. She didn't even flinch. "Alice, what if something happened to you?"

"Nothing's going to happen," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've told you before, I can take care of myself. And Bella's won bar fights." Emmett coughed, almost like he was covering up a laugh.

Edward gave a disgusted little sigh and shook his head. "We're not talking about this anymore. It's late, so we'll go over tomorrow. We can all meet here around 4 o'clock tomorrow. Jasper, Emmett and I will go to Royce's address, and we'll come back after we speak with him. Agreed?"

Alice and I didn't say anything, but she gave me a meaningful look and a quick nod that none of the boys seemed to catch. She yawned widely and stretched her arms.

"Now that you've hijacked our search and rescue, Bella and I want to go home."

"We do?" I asked, bewildered. Usually Edward didn't walk me home until much later in the evening.

"Yes, we do." She widened her eyes and nodded again, slower this time.

"Um, okay. Edward, I'm going to go home with Alice."

"Jasper and I will walk you," he said promptly.

"There's two of us, we can walk ourselves home. I don't know why you can't just trust us."

"It has nothing to do with trust," he insisted. "It's dark and there could be more men waiting for you. We're coming with you."

My anger surged, and for the first time, Edward reminded me of Jacob. We had had a similar conversation right before I left for college for the first time.

"I want you to promise me you won't go walking around campus on your own."

"I can take care of myself, Jacob. My parents trust me to be careful, why don't you?"

"It's not you I don't trust, it's everyone else."

I had walked alone, at night no less, on many occasions throughout my three and a half years at Seattle, and not once had anything happened to me. Not that I broadcast that information to Jacob, but the fact that he didn't even give me the benefit of the doubt made me furious every time he brought it up. To hear the same argument from Edward, who was nothing like Jacob, irritated me to no end. Without thinking, I snapped out the retort I always wanted to give to him.

"I already have a father, Edward." I stood up and offered a hand to Alice. She hoisted herself up and adjusted her skirts. "He's back in Washington. I don't recall asking you to take over for him. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye Jasper," Alice said, waving at him with a wink. "I know we had plans, but Bella and I haven't really spent much time together over the last week. You understand."

I took one more quick glance and Edward and Jasper and then turned and hurried toward the stairs, holding in my laughter. They were gaping at us, frozen and apparently in shock. Good.

We made our way down through the house and burst onto the street. Once we were clear of the front stoop, we both started giggling.

"Did…you…see their faces?" Alice wheezed. "Edward looked like you could have knocked him over with a feather!"

"And Jasper," I laughed. "Did you see how wide his mouth was hanging open?"

"I think the only one who didn't look surprised was Emmett," Alice added, with an odd little half grin. She took a deep breath. "Jasper doesn't trust him. Thinks he's got some ulterior motive. I told him it's ridiculous, but he won't listen."

"Emmett?" I asked, shocked. "What kind of ulterior motive could he possibly have to help us find a lost girl?"

"Well, Rose is a stunner," Alice shrugged. "And she's got a tidy inheritance."

"That's awful," I said immediately. "Emmett is a wonderful friend, and a perfect gentleman. He's helping us because he cares. I've told him all about Rose, and back home. He's doing this out of the goodness of his heart."

"I agree with you," she responded. "But Jasper… he doesn't trust easily. He doesn't let people in. I think the only reason he and Edward get along as well as they do is because they're both trying to protect us."

I frowned, remembering how adamant both of them had been about keeping us out of Royce's way.

"We can't let them go over and confront Royce. They'll make a mess out of everything."

"Bella Swan, if you are suggesting that we go behind their backs and talk to Royce ourselves," Alice said, her face a mask of shock, "I completely agree with you." She grinned and I laughed, relieved we were in agreement.

"But we don't have the address Jasper found," I remembered with a start.

"Correction: you don't have the address." Alice pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and waved it in front of me. "I copied it before we went over to Esme's when Jasper wasn't looking. I was afraid he'd go all macho on us. If they're really not going to let us come with them, we'll just have to beat them to it."

We walked up to the apartment, Alice leading the way. "I know exactly where this place is," she continued, flipping the light switch and discarding her purse on the table beside the door. "Besides, this situation clearly calls for a light touch. I doubt Edward and Jasper are capable of subtlety at this point."

"What if they're right?" I asked slowly. "What if Royce is involved in something dangerous? Is it really safe for us to go alone?"

"He lives in an upscale neighborhood, and we'll go in the middle of the afternoon. There'll be plenty of people around. I don't see what he could do to us under those circumstances."

We spent the rest of the evening planning. Alice decided it would be better to go straight from Royce's place to Esme's, so we would be meeting the boys with the encounter fresh in our mind. They would be furious, of course, but once we showed them what a little feminine ingenuity could accomplish they wouldn't have a choice but to agree that we were right.

Alice made me feel like I could do anything. She asked my opinion about everything and teased me about my bar fight moves as we came up with a game plan. I'd never done something so sneaky and disobedient before, but she made it feel so easy. The old Bella would have argued with Edward until it became clear he wasn't budging and then resigned herself to his decision. Paris Bella wasn't resigned to anything. I was fed up with being dragged around and told where to be and what to do. Something in me snapped as soon as Edward said I wasn't allowed to come. Alice wasn't going to listen. She wasn't going to let herself be bossed around… and neither was I.

*0*0*

The next day was sunny and clear. Birds were singing and everything was budding and green. Paris was blooming in the warm March air, and it felt like a good omen as Alice and I set off for Royce's address that afternoon.

"Now remember, don't try to get his back up right away," I cautioned Alice, who was walking so quickly I had to jog to keep up. "You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "That's about right, the man's a big bug."

I stopped abruptly and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop moving.

"We have a plan, Alice. Don't forget it. We're doing this without the boys because they were going to charge in there with accusations and threats. If you're going to do the same thing, then we may as well just let them do this."

She sighed heavily and nodded. "You're right, I know. I'll be good."

I arched an eyebrow at her skeptically.

"I promise," she huffed. "Can we go now?"

"Yes."

We had crossed the river, and the buildings looked older and more distinguished than the ones in Alice's neighborhood. The shops scattered along the way looked expensive and nearly empty. Alice stopped at one window and stared longingly at a dress on a mannequin. I had to tug her slightly to get her moving again, which she did, reluctantly.

"Once we find Rosalie, we'll go shopping for real," she sighed, marching ahead of me so she could navigate us. "That girl has exquisite taste. Not that I don't love scavenging the Vogue closet, but a girl cannot live on samples alone."

"Whatever you say, Alice," I laughed. I had grown accustomed to her need to dress me up, and I actually found I liked it a lot most days. It made me a little sad to think about going back to the sensible woolens and cotton standards of my wardrobe back home.

We finally reached an elegant white stone house with a bright red door and a gold knocker on the front door. It was nestled between its neighbors with an air of smug superiority, if such a thing was possible. It sat just a tad taller, looking slightly cleaner and statelier than the houses on its right and left. I wondered if it was my imagination.

Alice and I strode up to the front door arm in arm. Our goal was to present a united front, dazzling Royce with our "feminine charm." Alice's words, not mine. She insisted on crisp white gloves and makeup, though I resisted as long as I could. She settled for a layer of face powder and red lipstick, but not until I agreed to the ridiculous clutch purse I was carrying. I tucked it under my arm as Alice adjusted her hat and plastered on a bright smile.

She rapped her fist against the red painted door. A few moments passed, and when no one answered, she knocked again.

We waited, but no one came to the door. "Maybe he's not home," I whispered. "We could try back later."

"No," she said with a frown. "Later the boys will come. We need to do this now. If he's not home, maybe he has a maid or a butler who can tell us where he is."

She knocked again, and we finally heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the door. The door swung open and a tall, blonde man with ice blue eyes looked down at us. He was impeccably dressed in a clean white shirt and a black tie with crisply pressed black pants and shiny, patent leather dress shoes.

"Can I help you?" he asked, barely concealing his irritation. He spoke in the same cultured British accent that Edward did. He looked about the same age as Carlisle. I wondered if this was Royce's father, or maybe his uncle.

"We're looking for Mr. Royce King," Alice said with a seductive smile. "Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, that's me," he said curtly. "May I help you?"

My eyes widened in surprise. Rose had never told me Royce's age, but I had just assumed he was no more than a few years older than her. This man could easily be her father.

"My name is Bella Swan," I stuttered. "I'm looking for a friend of mine, and I think you might know where she is. Her name is Rosalie Hale."

His eyebrows shot up and he looked me over. "Rosalie Hale? I'm sorry, I don't know who you're referring to."

"I'm sure you do," I insisted, confused that he would deny even knowing her. "She wrote to me about you all the time."

"Ah, wait a moment," he mused. "Does she go by Rose? I took a young woman named Rose to a couple of parties last fall. She was tall and blonde, absolutely gorgeous."

"That's her!" Alice said immediately. I could tell she was chomping at the bit to start questioning him further, but I hoped she would take her time. The last thing we wanted to do was make him defensive all at once. "I think you spent quite a bit more time with her than just a few parties, though, didn't you?"

"And who are you?" Royce asked, taking a step forward and leaning casually against the door. Even slouched, he towered over Alice.

"Alice Brandon, Rose's roommate," Alice said promptly. "And she was seeing you almost constantly from about mid-September. So why don't you come clean and tell us where she is? We just want to talk to her. We're worried."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he sneered. "Rose Hale was a common tart. I met her at a club one night, and I showed her around for a weekend or so. She was…rather grateful."

He smirked, and my stomach clenched unpleasantly.

"Now wait just a minute—" I started.

"No, you wait, Miss Swan," Royce interrupted. "I know your type. You'll stand there in your provocative skirts and tight blouses while taking the moral high ground." He leered unpleasantly, and I took an unsteady step back. "Your friend Rose knew exactly what she was getting into. She was a small town girl away from home for the first time, and she was letting her hair down. I see it all the time. After she spent the weekend with me, she moved on to the next wealthy businessman she found."

"Rose wouldn't do something like that, and she wouldn't lie to me," I insisted, squaring my chin and meeting his gaze. "She told me all about your relationship. She said you were talking about marriage."

He let out one short, harsh guffaw. "Marriage? With that whore?"

"How dare you?" I sputtered, stepping up to go toe to toe with him. Alice followed me, gripping onto my arm strongly, anchoring me.

"I bet you're just like your friend," he said lowly, lifting a hand and grabbing a lock of my hair. I flinched away, but he held tight. "New to the city, just off the boat probably. I wouldn't mind taking you into my bed for a few evenings."

"She's not available. She's got a boyfriend and he's huge, and he has a temper," Alice snapped, pulling me backwards. Royce released my hair, but stepped forward as we retreated. "And don't get me started on mine. They'll tear you apart when they hear what you've said to us."

"Will they?" Royce's nostrils flared and he straightened up again. "Are you referring to the scrawny piano player from Le Tabou and that nosy reporter from the Associated Press? I understand you also spend a good deal of time with an acquaintance of mine, a Mr. McCarty?" I couldn't control the gasp of surprise that left my throat, and he smiled knowingly.

"Are you enjoying your time on the Rue de Seine, Miss Swan?" he asked silkily with another step forward. "I must say, I'm a little concerned… two young women living alone, in a building that's practically unsecured. So far from your families too; that makes you easy prey, you know. Why, I can't imagine it would take much creativity for any lowlife to break into a place like that. I understand there's been a rash of muggings in the area."

My throat tightened. "What have you done to Rose?"

"Nothing she didn't beg me for," he said with a grin. Even in the bright afternoon sun, he looked predatory. I couldn't see a trace of the gentleman Rose had described, despite the fine clothes and perfectly distinguished accent.

"I think we'd better go, Bella," Alice said in a low, harsh voice.

I started to protest, but she had my arm in an iron grip, and we were back to the sidewalk before I could dig in my heels.

"It was a pleasure meeting you ladies," Royce called, drawing out the word 'pleasure.' "I do hope we run into each other soon."

"We can't just leave," I said, tripping over my feet as Alice dragged me up the street.

"Yes, we can," she said firmly.

"We were just getting started! He was finally telling us something."

"He was also threatening us, and not so subtly either. We were about two seconds from being pulled into that house, and then God knows what would have happened."

"I think you're overreacting," I huffed. "Sure, he was scary, but he couldn't have pulled both of us in without risking creating a scene. We were perfectly safe."

"You've got a lot to learn about safety, kid," she muttered, still towing me strongly. "There was nobody on that street, which means he could have forced us inside without anyone seeing it happen. We don't know who was in that house with him. And he basically admitted to being behind those thugs who attacked you outside our apartment."

My heart started pounding as her words registered. "But… but what does this mean for Rose? Do you think he attacked her? What if she's hurt somewhere? What if—"

I couldn't bring myself to finish the statement. If Royce was capable of the things it seemed like he was capable of, then Rose could be anywhere. She could be dead. At the very least she was wrapped up with drug dealers and blackmailers.

"We have to tell the boys about this," Alice sighed, turning up the road that led to Esme's house. We had practically run through the streets, and the fifteen minute walk had barely taken us ten. "They're not going to be happy."

I groaned, thinking about what Edward would do when he found out that Royce had not only threatened me, but had touched me. We hadn't really gone into details over his break with reality in the alley, but I was afraid of what would happen if he thought I was in danger. I didn't want him to go and attack Royce, who seemed well connected and could certainly get Edward thrown in jail.

"Do you think they're going to yell?" I asked, slowing down and pulling my arm from Alice's hand.

"No question," she laughed. "But don't worry. We'll just have to recruit Esme to act as a shield. She has some weird mind powers over Edward, and she scares the hell out of Jasper. Emmett won't yell, he'll just be worried."

We walked in the front door and wandered into the kitchen. Esme lounged in a kitchen chair with a book in one hand and a glass of wine in front of her.

"Mes chères! Bonjour, ça va?"

"Esme! Just the woman we were looking for," Alice said conspiratorially. "We need your help. Do you think you can work your magic on our men?"

Her eyes got wide and she leaned forward, nudging two chairs out from the table with her foot. "Absolument. Tell me all about it."