Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer and therefore I do not own Twilight or the wonderful characters I screw with.
Chapter 37 – Rehab Center (Rosalie)
"When Bella asks you who's paying for this, my name is not going to come up, got it? My sister hates feeling like she owes me things. So as far as she'll be concerned you got your dad to agree to pay for this or your sister or even Tanya. I don't care who actually, just keep my name out of it." Rosalie said as she walked down the hall of the building.
It wasn't the kind of place she saw in her mind when she thought of a rehabilitation facility. It was light and open with fancy wooden floors, walls with multi-colored abstract paintings, giant windows opening to their rolling gardens, and more. Rosalie couldn't help but wonder where the white walls and giant locking doors were, along with the bars on tiny windows.
... So maybe she was confusing an asylum with a rehab center.
"You want me to lie to your sister and my best friend?" Edward hadn't spoke much on the trip to Seattle, choosing to pout in silence instead.
"Yes, because I protect my family, even from themselves when necessary. I even try to care for Sue and her children, not that the stubborn and proud woman will take anything I offer. It's why my little half sister is growing up in a freaking shanty on the beach rather than a decent house," she groused angrily. She was exaggerating some, Sue's house wasn't that bad, but it was close. "This is me protecting Bella."
Edward shook his head and didn't reply.
She stepped into the office with Edward following her in. She stepped up to the man sitting behind the desk with the graying blond hair. He looked good for a man that was nearing sixty – as per the rehab center's website. "Hello, Doctor Masen, my name's Rosalie and we talked on the phone." She held her hand out to him.
He didn't take her hand immediately. "Rosalie, my wife and co-owner of this facility thought she recognized your name so I looked you up. Our rehab center is good and I'm not ashamed to admit that, but we don't really have the security and such in place for someone as well known as you."
Rosalie smiled widely. She liked his bluntness. "With all do respect, when I need rehab, I go wipe out a credit card at Chanel. It's called retail therapy and it works miracles. I'm not here for me though. I'm here for him." She nodded her head back at Edward. "This is Edward –"
She trailed off, the Cullen name was no less was infamous than her fashion line.
"Garfunkel. The last name's Garfunkel," Edward said quietly.
He looked at Edward. "Hello Edward, my name's Carlisle Masen. You can call me Carlisle." He held out his hand.