A/N: Thank you to TDS88 and mcc101180 for their beta skills. Leftover mistakes are mine. I don't own Twilight or Made of Honor, so if it looks familiar—it belongs to somebody else.


Mate of Honor

Chapter 12

The gentle clearing of my assistant's throat and a softly spoken "Coffee, Mr. Cullen?" catch my attention. I look up from the sketches I've just put the finishing touches to and return her smile.

"That'd be great. Thanks, Shelly."

"I thought I'd head to the cafe downstairs. Can I get you anything else while I'm there?"

After asking for a muffin, I wave her off and hear the front door click as she closes it softly. Standing and turning to rifle through my filing cabinet, I search for the account documents for a client. They want to set up a new office building and came across my designs at a showcase earlier this year. I chuckle to myself—I'd taken Bella as my date to that showcase, and we'd spent much of the night making fun of the high-flying bidders and their wives. We'd danced and got drunk because she'd—yet again—sworn off relationships, having just broken up with some guy. I can't even remember his name, but that one had been short-lived.

I hear the door creak as it opens, and I don't bother turning around. "Shelly, have you seen the Dawson file?"

The responding laughter has me whip my head around. Bella's standing just inside the doorway with her arms folded, giving me the grin that I love so much. "You'd be lost without her, Edward."

I lean against the back of my chair. "You're right." Grinning, I walk around my desk to give her a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," she mumbles into my shirt. "I thought I'd drop by to take my best friend to lunch."

"Mmm, sounds great," I reply into her hair. I want to hold her all day, but I release my embrace and step back. "But I'm supposed to meet Marcus…"

"Fantastic!" she says enthusiastically. "I haven't seen him in ages."

I wave my hand in the direction of one of my spare chairs, indicating to Bella to take a seat. She picks the red high back—like she always does—and I smile.

"What?" she asks, kicking off a shoe and curling her foot under her.

"You always pick that chair," I remark as she settles in.

"I love it." She strokes the arms of the chair reverently. "It makes me feel like a queen."

"I did say you could keep it, you know." I did. I offered it to her when the prototype came in last year.

"Ah," she says, wiggling into a comfortable position and sighing. "It wouldn't fit in my apartment. Besides…" she gives me a grin "…where would I sit when I came to visit you?"

My grin falters, because in just a few weeks, if my plan fails, this won't be happening anymore. Bella won't be able to drop in whenever she likes, and she won't be coming in just to curl up in the big red chair in the corner of my office. And the thought of not seeing her all the time makes my chest ache.

Bella must be thinking along the same lines, because her smile fades too. She looks thoughtful…and a little sad. "That was a dumb thing to say, wasn't it? I mean, you might not want to keep the chair." She traces one of the pressed buttons on the chair's arm with her finger. "You might want to get a new chair."

I'm a little confused. I could design a new chair, but that one fits this room perfectly. "Why would I want to get a new chair?"

She shrugs. "Because…I don't know, maybe it doesn't suit its purpose anymore."

"As a chair?" I'm really confused now. "It's always going to be a chair."

She sits up straighter, tucking her foot farther beneath her. "But what if you get tired of it?"

"I'll always love that chair," I tell her.

"Yeah, but what if the chair's all faded and ugly? What if its buttons start to pop...and it gets gum stuck on it...and it falls apart?"

I'm probably smirking. "That will never happen. That chair's always going to be perfect. I made that chair."

Her brown eyes fix on me. "Yeah, but nothing lasts forever."

I don't think we're talking about furniture anymore. "I don't care," I tell her. I set my gaze on my best friend, and she stares back. "It's always going to be a great chair. Even as it ages, it will be beautiful. It will only increase its value as time goes by. That chair's a classic, B—it's one of a kind." I lean forward, propping my elbows on the desk in front of me. "I'll always love that chair. Always."

Her expression quirks with a little smile. "Always?"

"Always."

We're staring at each other, neither of us breaking our gaze. I want to look at her forever. I don't care if she gets old and faded—she'll always be beautiful. In my eyes, she'll never be any other way.

"Hello?" Shelly calls from the reception area outside my office. "Are you here, Mr. Cullen?"

I grin, and so does Bella. "In here, Shelly."

"I'm sorry I took so long, the line was almost out the door." She pauses and smiles when she sees Bella in the big red chair. "Oh, hello, Miss Swan. What a lovely surprise."

Bella gives Shelly a little wave. "Hi, Mrs. Cope."

"How nice to see you, dear." She lifts a cup from the small cardboard tray and sets it in front of me. "And one for you too," she says, passing a cup to Bella.

"Thank you," Bella says, wrapping her hands around the cup. "But how did you—"

"Just a hunch." Shelly winks at me before returning to the reception area, shutting the door behind her.

From across the room, Bella smirks at me across the top of her cup. "Told you you'd be lost without her."

~MoH~

While I jot down some ideas for Mr. and Mrs. Dawson, Bella curls up in her queen chair and flips through some of the interior design magazines I keep stacked on the side table. We sit in comfortable silence, except for the sound of my pencil scratching and moments where B holds up a picture of a piece she particularly likes, and asks my opinion.

We each do our own thing, neither of us feeling any pressure to fill the silence. It's the kind of relaxed companionship that comes with years of doing this…just enjoying each other's company.

"Do you have a job lined up?" I ask at one point.

Bella shakes her head and sets down her now-empty cup. "No," she replies, returning to her page-turning. "Benno has to go back to the farm, so I guess I'll help out there for a while. I might be able to get a job in the town nearby."

I look up from my sketching. "Town nearby? What do you mean?"

She doesn't meet my gaze. "Yeah. Well, the house isn't exactly in town…"

"How big is the town?"

She screws up her lip—a sign she doesn't want to tell me. "1500 people."

I drop my pencil. "What? That's, like, half the size of Forks!"

"Mhmm." She still isn't looking at me.

I try to keep my tone from sounding too shocked…or too confrontational. "What kind of job might you get in a town that's so small? You're college educated, and I bet there are no museums there."

She jerks her head up, staring right at me. "They have a farm machinery museum, thank you very much."

I hold her gaze. "Farm machinery?"

She's biting her lip now. "Yeah. Well…" Her face flushes as she looks away from my surely incredulous expression. "It won't be forever." She tosses the magazine aside and stands quickly. "I'm starving. What time are we meeting Marcus?"

I put down my pencil—this conversation is apparently over…for now. "About fifteen minutes. Okay. Let's go."

~MoH~

"Ah, Bellissima." My uncle holds his arms wide, and Bella walks right into them. "It's so good to see you again." He draws back from her, dropping a kiss to both cheeks.

"It's good to see you too, Marcus." Bella smiles up at him—she's used to his ways. "How have you been? You look well."

He waves. "Ah, I'm fine. But you, my dear, are positively glowing. Engagement suits you." He throws a look my way, and I scowl back. He winks…and I want to call him an asshole. "Doesn't it, Edward?"

I mumble something in response, and we all sit, Marcus and Bella animatedly catch up. After our food arrives, we all talk easily in between bites. Marcus gives me another look, but doesn't say anything, when Bella and I cut off sections of our meals and switch.

"So, Isabella. It appears I am too late. I waited too long." Marcus sighs for dramatic effect—and gives me yet another pointed look.

Bella laughs, resting her hand over my uncle's. "You know you'll always be my favorite."

"Then let us run away together!" he says with bravado. When Bella just shakes her head, he makes another comment about men not being smart enough to act in a timely enough manner.

I have no idea what he's playing at.

It's when we're having coffee and dessert that Marcus asks about Bella's immediate plans.

"Well, I leave a week from Saturday." Bella cracks the top of her crème brûlée before digging her spoon in. "So I just need to finish packing up my apartment. I'm sub-letting it to Rose until the lease is up."

I'm about to ask why she's sub-letting if she's moving for good, when my uncle interrupts. "Are your girlfriends taking you out this weekend?"

Bella nods, her spoon to her lips. "Yes, Saturday night. One last night out in Chicago."

"That sounds very nice." Marcus smiles warmly. My phone vibrates with a new message, and as I pull my phone out, I notice Marcus take something out of his own jacket pocket. "As I'll miss your nuptials, I wanted to give you a gift. It's just a little something for you." He slides a small, rectangular box across the table to Bella. "I brought it to give to Edward to pass on to you, but I'm pleased to be able to give it to you myself."

As Marcus talks, I glance at my phone. It's a message from Alice, instructing me that as mate of honor, I need to confirm the venue for Saturday night's festivities. She's included the contact number and a name, and I silently thank—rather than curse—her organization skills.

"Oh Marcus!" Bella's voice causes me to look up. She places her hand on her chest. "Really, you didn't need to do that!"

"Ah!" He raises a hand. "It's nothing. Please. Open it."

Bella carefully slides off the ribbon surrounding the box and sets it on the tablecloth. As she opens the box, she gasps.

"I know traditional letter writing is a dying art, but it's always nice to have something lovely to open your mail with. And it belonged to a woman who would love it to go to a smart, beautiful lady like yourself." Marcus smiles, and curiosity gets the better of me.

Bella turns the antique letter opener over in her hand, her fingers running over the intricately molded detail on the handle. I'm in shock, because I've seen that letter opener before. Bella gasps again as her fingers trace the scripted letters on the handle—letters spelling her name. She sets it down gently back in her box and then leaps to her feet to hug my uncle. I swear she has tears in her eyes when she thanks him again. Over her shoulder, Marcus winks at me.

Reaching for the box, I turn the implement over and my suspicions are confirmed. This was my grandmother's letter opener, and on the opposite side to Bella's name, is my grandmother's married name.

Cullen.


A/N: Thank you for reading! Like Marcus's gift? Do you think maybe there could there be a hidden meaning? Or is he just very generous... ;-)

Don't forget to check out the Dirty Talkin' Edward entries—voting starts August 13 2013. I'm also contributing a Yosemite Decimal outtake to Fandom4LLS. To donate, and to check out the other amazing authors contributing, go to Fandom4LLS dot blogspot dot com