Hi, hi. It hasn't been two months again. Yay! Here's a shorter update. I had to type this with one hand and let me tell you, it was a pain in the ass but you guys are the best so I don't regret it. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all your kind words of encouragement! I love how much you're enjoying the slow build! xoxo

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Hello.

As fate would have it, we called out each other's names at the same time.

"Isabella!" was his bellow from the office.

Mine was a hesitant, "Mr. Cullen?"

Fuck nuggets!

Though I'd been looking forward to the transfer for months, I was suddenly extremely confused as to why I felt so…so… guilty. I was nervous, sure, but more than anything when my stomach churned in anxiety and I didn't have the sudden urge to throw packets of Post-It notes in the air in celebration, I knew something was wrong. With me.

I should've been ecstatic.

And I wasn't.

I felt bad. Like I was cheating on Mr. Cullen. Like I was failing him. And I had no idea what in the world would make me feel that way. While we were getting along about fifty times better, we weren't friends exactly.

But then again I'd told him things I'd never told anyone. He'd told me things I'm sure he hadn't told anyone either. That was kind of a friendship type thing wasn't it?

"Isabella!" he yelled again.

Oh, mother heifer.

I took a deep breath, swallowed my nerves and headed toward his office. The need to beat back that guilt was at the forefront of my brain. When I reached the doorway, he was sitting at his desk. Mr. Cullen's jacket was off and tossed over the back of one of the large chairs across from him. His hands were tented, elbows on the desk, forehead to his fingertips.

"Yes, sir?" I asked him carefully. Timidly. Cowardly Lion-y.

Those stunning green eyes slowly swept up from his desk, landing directly on my face. For a moment, he just sat there. Quiet. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Finally he flicked his fingers toward him.

He took another deep breath, exhaling loudly before sighing. "Can you please sit down?" he asked in a controlled voice.

I could tell he was strung tight. Just like when he'd lose his mind months before when something was wrong. But I took a seat across from him, hammering that awkward sensation plaguing my conscience to leave me the hell alone.

I could've played dumb. I should've. But I didn't want to do that. I owed him that much. So it took all of my courage to bring a tentative smile to my face. "Mr. Cullen, I was just notified that my transfer was approved."

He blinked.

With a long, shuddering breath, he sat back in his seat. The slim-fitting black button-down shirt he had on squeezed every plane on his chest and every muscle in his arms. Darting his eyes around the office, they finally landed on me again after a long minute.

The words that came out of his mouth only intensified that unknown feeling that accompanied the guilt, searing me straight through the chest. "Is there anything I can do to get you to change your mind?" he asked in a low voice.

It was my turn to blink and let out a long stream of air from between my lips. That traitorous beast I didn't recognize wanted to tell him yes. But my brain and that part of me that had really thought through my pending move prohibited it. I shook my head, smiling sadly. "No, sir."

"Nothing?" he asked, those pink lips twitching at the corners.

God. Here was this proud, stubborn man asking me something there really wasn't a response to. "There are more options for me to move up in the company in a different department," I explained to him, honestly. "That's why I asked for the transfer."

He opened his mouth, ready to argue I'm sure, before closing it. I had him. Mr. Cullen's was something of a genius. He knew I had a point.

"I don't start for another month and a half," I teold him like he didn't already know. "I'm sure you'll find someone a lot more qualified to fill the position."

That's when his gaze hardened. "You're perfectly qualified."

I was suddenly reminded of the many things he asked me to do that I had no idea about. Like using InDesign and Access. "There's people better than me."

"Isabella, being resourceful and hard-working isn't taught. Everything I ever set aside for you, you handled better than I expected," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll be lucky to find someone half as useful as you."

Well.

Thursday

Life is full of awkward moments.

Moments that make you cringe. Moments that make you regret getting out of bed that day. And then there are those moments that make you wish you'd never been born.

But the moment Mr. Cullen snapped at the annoying head of Loss Prevention… A-W-K-W-A-R-D.

Holy shit.

The pre-meeting reunion started off normally. The chairmen were meeting with the heads of ever department to go over figures and results for the end of the last fiscal year. As usual, Mr. Cullen and I had arrived at the large conference room way in advance.

Jasper was already there—also no surprise—beaming and radiating that wild Whitlock energy that I thought was the result of being a future daddy. He'd patted the seat next to him with a smile. "My two favorite colleagues."

I rolled my eyes and slid into the seat next to him, dropping my legal pad and on the table while Mr. Cullen took the seat on my other side. "Mr. Whitlock," I snorted. The only times I ever called him by his last name were when we were outside the confines of his office while at work.

"Whitlock," Mr. Cullen greeted his best friend so formally no one would've ever figured that these two went back a decade.

In no time, the conference room started trickling full. The marketing manager, Facilities manager, Finance, Benefits… all people I'd seen on my runs around the building to drop off paperwork, made it in. With only a few minutes left until the beginning of the meeting, Mr. Cullen leaned over the edge of his chair.

"Would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?" he asked in a whisper.

I cut him a glance out of the corner of my eye and nodded. "Sure."

The moment I got up from my chair, the douche bag I'd ignored a handful of times in the past, Laurent St. Claire, head of Loss Prevention walked in. In his mid-thirties and attractive in a metrosexual way that I wasn't too fond of—overly gelled hair, perfectly groomed goatee, rounded and shiny nails—he was arrogant. Blatantly, over-the-top arrogant. Where Mr. Cullen was a hard-working prick that didn't take shit from anyone and didn't allow a margin of error, Mr. St. Claire's unattractiveness stemmed from the fact that he thought he was God's gift to the world.

I'd ignored his hungry, inquisitive eyes each time I had to go down to his floor and deal with his secretary, but I'd heard him in the past when talking on the phone. And he was a prick with a sexy hint of a French-Canadian accent.

But a prick nonetheless.

Just like every other time, I darted my eyes away from him and went back to my boss with his coffee in hand.

"Bella," Jasper cooed in a whisper after I handed off the cup.

I wanted to ask him "What?" but we were in public, so I couldn't. Instead, I raised both eyebrows at him and tilted my head up.

"Would you get me a cup too, please?"

I sighed and nodded, making a fuss just because I could. "Still one sugar and one cream?"

He nodded, smiling while smoothing a hand over the short ends of his ponytail. "Please."

Turning back around, I poured Jasper's coffee and prepared it the way he liked. While serving him coffee hadn't been on my to-do list while as a temp, I'd still done it from time to time because I was nice and Jasper was a great manager. Two other assistants were alongside me at the table set up with refreshments. I snagged a bottle of water for myself and teetered back over to the table.

I was walking around the head of the table when a hand shot out to wrap around my wrist. "Sweetheart, coffee please. Two creams, one sugar."

Uhhh.

I could barely focus enough attention to figure out who the heck was touching me and telling me to make them coffee. My eyes flickered over to the source of the olive-skinned hand. Nothing came out of my mouth. I just stared at Laurent, Mr. St. Claire, dumbly because seriously? Seriously?

I looked down the side of the table to see Mr. Cullen leaning back in his chair two seats away with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes hard.

"Umm…"

"Isabella," Mr. Cullen called out to me.

I looked back over at the Laurent, taking that as my cue. "I'm sorry, I'm busy."

"Surely you can get me a cup," he drawled in response, flashing a smile a hundred other women would have fawned all over. Except me.

"Laurent, the meeting is about to start. Surely you can make your own cup instead of asking Isabella to do something you can do yourself," Mr. Cullen snapped out.

Owned!

I had to bite my lip to keep from making a face as I made my way back to my spot. Jasper took the cup from me, amusement written all over his face as he pulled out my chair. Usually I would've made faces with him but in that instant, I glanced over at my boss instead.

He was still in the same position, arms over his three-piece striped navy suit, dark green eyes piercing a line straight in douche-bag's path. He tilted his head in my direction, face impassive.

And I couldn't help it. The corner of my mouth pulled up just the slightest and after a moment, he mirrored my expression. I mouthed out the word, "Thanks." In response, one side of his mouth pulled just a fraction of an inch higher before he nodded once.

The rest of the meeting went by uneventfully. Boring on top of boring. Two hours later, after yawning my way through a discussion that I'd lost all interest in, Jasper and I walked back to the elevators together when Mr. Cullen stayed in the conference room talking to the COO.

"That guy is such a fucking tool," Jasper noted the moment we were alone in the hallway. It was unsaid that he was referring to St. Claire.

I nodded my agreement. "There's something about him I don't like."

Those blonde eyebrows went up so far they almost reached his hairline. "That would be three of us. Edward hates him." Turning to look behind us, he raised his eyebrows again. Jasper rarely raised his eyebrows, so I knew this was going to be good. Real good. "He's been looking for a way to get rid of him for a while now but that's between us."

"What'd he do?" I whispered, pressing the call button for the elevator.

Jasper sighed, but didn't say a word until we got into the car. With another heavy sigh, he gritted his teeth before speaking. "He's an asshole," Jasper said. "Obviously. But don't say a word, all right? Not even to Angela, Bella. He even had the nerve to take Kate to a dinner party Edward was attending after he broke it off with her."

I sucked in a breath. Both because I couldn't understand how dumb a human being could be and because Jasper was spilling secrets. He never ratted anything out, so on the rare occasion that he did, you took advantage of it. Big time. "Seriously?"

He nodded.

"That crazy—" bitch, I wanted to say but settled for "woman?"

And then Jasper laughed. "You can't hide real crazy for too long, Bella."

Friday

"Fuck my fucking life!"

I did it. I kicked my tire like that would solve the problem going on beneath the hood. Nearly thirty minutes had passed since I'd made my way to the parking lot to leave for the weekend. Just like a year and a half before, people pretended not to see me poking at things underneath the hood of my truck.

Fucking assholes.

I'd cry if I didn't hate doing it so much.

After four calls to Angela without an answer, I really wasn't sure what the hell I was going to do. My parents lived two hours away and I'd cancelled my Triple A service months before. And it didn't help I couldn't tell the difference between a spark plug and a screw.

With a resigned sigh, I slowly made my way back toward the elevators. My best bet would be to call a cab and speak to my Dad over the weekend to see what he recommended I do. I'd barely been standing waiting for a car for half a minute when the doors opened to reveal Mr. Cullen standing there.

Carrying a garment bag over one shoulder, and a briefcase that cost more than my car in the other.

And wearing fitted jeans, one of the band t-shirts I'd bought him, and New Balance's.

I felt like I was in The Twilight Zone.

"Is everything okay?" he asked me immediately while I stood there taking in the fact that he owned jeans and tennis shoes. I swear I probably wouldn't have been as surprised if I'd seen him in leather pants and holding a whip.

Focusing back on him, I shook my head. "My car won't start."

"Battery?"

I shook my head. "It's new." My hand went up to sweep over my face in frustration. "I'm going to call a cab."

There was no hesitation in his response when he voiced his suggestion. "I'll take you home."

"Uhh—what?"

Still holding out on my news for TLRH and TPoB. I'm still working on my other stuff at the moment. But next update *cross your fingers*

Speaking of my other stuff... I'm looking for another reader to look over my original for feedback. Maybe two people? I only have a few requirements (heh). 1) Please be familiar with my writing and therefore like me. I don't think you'd be reading this if you hated me but maybe. You never know. 2)A fan of contemporaries. 3) Have time to do it. Everyone is busy. Trust me, I get it and I don't have a life. If you're interested, shoot me an email marianazapata at live dot com or PM me! I pay in eternal love, hugs, and kisses.