A Little Pizzazz

Pity:

"Bella!" Rosalie seemed to appear out of nowhere and reached for her friend. "What the hell happened?"

Bella wrenched her arm out of Rosalie's hold and began storming down the hallway, her foul mood following her like a rain cloud. "Your client is a fucking paranoid asshole, that's what happened!"

"What do you mean?" Rosalie hurried after her.

Bella jabbed the elevator button with her thumb. "He thinks that I somehow cooked up a meeting with him, or maybe it was the photo shoot, so that I could...I don't know, marry him and live off his money."

"He said that!"

Bella spun around and headed for the door that said 'stairs' on it, unable to stand and wait for an elevator in her current mood. "Yes, he said that. He's acting like he's Huge Hefner or something and I'm a botox rich bimbo looking for a sugar daddy!"

She growled aloud as she shoved the door open. Taking the stairs by twos, with Rosalie trying to follow in her heels, Bella continued to rant.

"I've never been so fucking insulted in my entire life. Really, who the fuck does he think he is? Okay, so he's got more money than I do, but he's not a fucking sultan or something and I get by just fine! I can't believe he cooked up this elaborate scheme in his head in the few minutes that it took him to realize that I was the same girl from the coffee shop! And it would have had to be a really fucking elaborate scheme, I'd need a shit ton of help from several people to even begin to pull something off like that with barely a few hours notice..."

Bella trailed off and stopped her rapid descent, looking up at Rosalie with sudden guilt. "I'm sorry Rose, but he thinks you're part of this so called scheme, too. He might be firing you soon."

She stopped, looking shocked. "Oh does he now?"

Without another word Rosalie turned around and stomped her way back up the stairs to the fourth floor.

Watching her friend go Bella suddenly felt marginally sorry for Edward Cullen. Hell hath no fury like Rosalie Hale.