The story deals with adult subject matter and occasional description of explicit sexual abuse. Not meant for underage readers. Read at your own peril. And oh, Twilight belongs to SM. This is just a fanfiction.

Beautiful Sorrow

End of chapter 28

She didn't ask where exactly he was taking her; it hardly mattered. She trusted him implicitly, and would willingly accompany him to the end of the earth if that's where he was taking her.


Chapter 29

Bella, age 18

Carlisle didn't give any instructions to his driver, but he seemed to know where he was meant to take them. Bella hadn't had the chance to explore the city too extensively yet. However, she could tell that they were leaving behind the commercial quarters and entering the posher areas of the city; areas she never had any reason to venture into so far.

Carlisle didn't try to initiate any more conversations as he appeared to be quietly concentrating on a piece of document that was awaiting his attention. Bella tried to steal glimpses of his face that was so serious and engrossed in the task at hand. So utterly beautiful.

She didn't want to be caught staring, so she forced her eyes to look out the window instead, watching the city streets and people as she began to ponder the dramatic turn of events that was taking her so far away from the routine of her ordinary life. Her pondering came to an unresolved end as their car pulled up in front of their destination.

Bella noticed the stylish neon sign spelled Euphorique above the entrance. This gave her a pause. Even with her limited knowledge about the city she knew the name of the establishment. The city guide book Alice's parents gave her had a full page feature on this high end, fine-dining place that hosted the creme de la creme of Washington's rich and famous.

Her astonishment over her impending entrance into a place she never thought she would ever afford to gain access to nearly made her miss the fact that the driver was holding the door open for her to disembark.

"Is everything alright, Isabella?" Carlisle asked when she took too long to leave the back seat, prompting her to scramble out with too much haste and zero grace.

The driver extended a hand to hold her steady which embarrassed Bella even more. She barely could coax out a thank you before she had to move away so Carlisle could step out after her.

She followed Carlisle into the restaurant and was duly impressed with the lush and shiny interior. They were greeted by the hostess who was perhaps the most stunning woman Bella had seen in person to date.

"Good evening, Mr. Cullen. We're so happy to have you back," the woman said with a dazzling smile.

"Thank you. I'd like my usual table please for my... company and I," he replied to the hostess as he glanced at Bella. This prompted the lady to peruse Bella with a sharp scrutiny, perhaps examining the suitability of the outfit she had on and whether it met the standards of the clientele they entertained. Bella had no doubt that it didn't. She lowered her gaze to look at her feet tucked in a pair of worn out sneakers that she had had since tenth grade. Her jeans and faded sweat shirt that had survived countless wash cycles didn't improve the picture much. Once again, she was ashamed by her existence.

"Isabella, I know I insisted that we come for a bite straight from work and didn't give you the chance to change, but I assure you that you look lovely. You have no reason to feel otherwise," Carlisle spoke with smooth certainty when he noticed Bella's discomfort before turning his attention to the hostess. He addressed her with an ice-cold authority, "Isn't that right, Miss?"

The skeptical look on the face of the hostess was instantly replaced with a professional welcoming smile, and she enthusiastically concurred with one of their most valued client, "Of course, sir. You and your guests are always welcome here. Please follow me."

They were shown to a table for two by a large glass-paned wall that overlooked the mountain range in the distance. Bella looked around with wide, awed eyes. The impeccably beautiful interior made her forget about the hunger pangs that she would have normally felt around this time after any other work day.

As soon as they were seated, a well dressed man approached their table with nearly as dazzling a smile as the hostess had.

"Ah, Mr. Cullen! Welcome back to my humble restaurant, sir. Jean Francois, my Chef de cuisine, sends his regards. His kitchen is at your disposal. Tell me, what would you like to have tonight? Or would you first like to look at our menu?" The man stood near their table as he addressed Carlisle with exaggerated politeness.

He must be the owner, Bella thought. She looked around and was tempted to laugh at the man's choice of words. There was nothing 'humble' about Euphorique.

"Thank you, Jeremy. It's always a pleasure to drop by here. What's your special today? Isabella here might like to check out your menu, so that would indeed be good," Carlisle replied with cool politeness as he gestured toward Bella.

"Very well, sir. I will send a server your way with the day's menu." With that, the man called Jeremy walked away, but not before bowing reverently to Carlisle and bestowing a gracious smile at Bella.

"Are you ok, Isabella? You are being very quiet. I hope the place is to your liking. I can vouch that the chef here is indeed one of the best in the world," Carlisle said once they were left alone. The warm and benevolent smile on his face made Bella want to melt in her seat.

He cares about if I like this place! This place! Who would not like the best restaurant in the city?

"No, no. It's wonderful. It's the best place in town. I've never been to a place so nice..." She quickly went on to make her gratitude clear. "Thank you for bringing me here. You didn't have to... I mean, thank you." It occurred to her that this was probably a common place for him to eat. So by saying that he didn't have to bring her here she was probably suggesting that she wasn't grateful for his generous gesture. She wondered if she would ever learn to speak intelligently in front of the man. She feared not.

Their server came by with the menus right about then and spared Bella the task of contributing to a coherent and polite conversation with her host.

Bella was surprised to see that for a place this fancy, the menu listed surprisingly few items; no more than five or six entrees. However, Bella had no idea what they were. It was all in French. As was the wine menu which was by far way longer than the main one.

Carlisle came to her rescue. "I can imagine that you are confused. They only have a few things on their menu, but their selling point is they will make you anything you like. If you know what you want, Jean Francoise will make it for you just as you prefer. Do you know what you want?"

The notion of a restaurant catering to the customer's whim like that amazed and baffled Bella.

How do they know what to stock up for?

And what happens if they don't have all the ingredients for a requested cuisine?

She wanted to ask these questions, but feared it would only make her look even more ignorant and naive than she already did.

"So, is there something you'd like to order, Isabella?" Carlisle asked again when she failed to respond to his inquiry.

"Uh... anything is fine really," Bella replied shyly, her brain coming up completely empty as she considered the limitless options presented before her.

She could hardly wrap her head around the fact that she was sitting in the costliest restaurant in the city; she couldn't think of a single thing that might be deemed appropriate to order. Spaghetti and meat balls looped in her head for a spell, but she rejected it immediately. She couldn't ask one of the best chefs in the world to make spaghetti and meat balls for her. That would surely embarrass Mr. Cullen. Not to mention the fact that Euphrique probablycatered to the French palate specifically.

"Perhaps you'd allow me to order something for you," Carlisle said with an indulging smile, as he noticed Bella's indecision. "Provided you trust my judgment, of course."

"Thank you. Yes please." She nodded in gratitude, relieved to be absolved of the task to have to come up with something respectable to order, or flounder with the menu she could not read.

Carlisle spoke with their server with quiet authority, pronouncing the names of the desired items in perfect French. At least, what Bella imagined perfect French sounded like.

How can anyone be so perfect? She wondered.

"And wine, sir? We have a new shipment from DRC that just arrived," their server asked, respectfully sweeping his eyes from Carlisle to Bella to include them both.

Not for the first time that evening, Bella wished she could disappear into thin air. Why did the universe hate her so much? She was bestowed with the rare privilege to sit at Carlisle Cullen's dinner table. Was it too much to ask that she be allowed to survive the evening without the glaring reminder that she wasn't of legal drinking age?

She lowered her head in humiliation, considering the merit of casually accepting the offer which would hopefully create the impression that it was a normal occurrence for her. They surely would not card the guest of Carlisle Cullen. And if she played it right, maybe Mr. Cullen wouldn't even be suspicious. After all, he didn't know exactly how old she was, did he? Her freshman status in college was somewhat of a dead giveaway, but she could have repeated a few grades back in middle school, couldn't she? She could be twenty-one.

However, before she could reach a decision she heard the silver smooth voice of Carlisle Cullen say, "Grape juice for my guest, and a bottle of Romane Conti for me. Make sure it's 1997."

Grape juice?

Oh my God. He knows how old I am.

Now he'll always think I'm a child. He'll be handing out candies next.

Kill me!

Bella cursed the law that stipulated twenty-one as the minimum age to publicly consume alcohol. How unfair was that? She was an adult; she could vote, drive, and was free to live her life as she pleased. Yet she had to sit here and be humiliated because of a stupid, meaningless rule.

She didn't understand why it mattered to her so much that Mr. Cullen saw her as a grown up. But it was painfully clear to her that whatever chance there was of him seeing her as an intelligent and mature human being evaporated the moment he ordered grape juice for her.

With crushed hope and solemn resignation, Bella wished for a quick and painless death.

*DRC=Domaine de la Romanée-Conti

AN1: Story rec - Whiskey Lullaby by lvtwilight09
Incredibly sad, gut-wrenchingly angsty (proceed with caution). Really beautifully written and it's completed.

AN2: A huge round of thanks goes to lulabelle98.

Thanks to Detochkina, EBS, and WutheringBites for all the help.

Thank you CentauRita for tipping the scale past 2000 reviews. You have no idea how happy that made me. I didn't see this happening for Beautiful Sorrow, ever! Thank you for making the impossible a reality.

Thanks to opheliasmuse and Maggie Williams for WC.

Thanks to those who checked out Where the Streets Have No Name. I'm most grateful.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for reviewing. You make my day.