Reaching for Love
Chapter 2: A Helping Hand
EDWARD
The crisp air of Elliot Bay drifted around me as I sipped the last bit of my Cabernet Sauvignon and set the glass on a table. The marina was full of boats of all sorts. My yacht was somewhere in the throng. Closing my eyes, I tried to forget where I was and why. Palisade was the last place I wanted to be, let alone happy hour for my former partner and ex-girlfriend of six months. She was moving on to greater things. Despite my feelings for her, I bought her out of the company she helped me start – Cullen Corp. It was one-hundred percent mine, not that it couldn't have been in the beginning. I let her talk me into a partnership. Never again. I've learned my lesson about mixing business and pleasure.
The best part of her agreeing to let me buy her out was any further profits were mine and mine alone. Inside, I was celebrating her departure from my life. She was a conniving little bitch, who had cheated on me. I was so glad I put off introducing her to my parents. They would have seen straight through her and her bullshit from the start.
Glancing at my watch, I noticed my hour long obligation I was talked into was paid in full. With a mental salute, I bid goodbye to the bitch that had torn my heart to shreds. As I walked away, I loosen my silk tie.
Once outside, the valet approached and took my claim ticket. The young man disappeared after grabbing my keys from the podium. He rushed to wherever my car was parked. If my past experience was any indication, I knew it would be a good five minutes before my car was in front of the restaurant.
I stood there with my hands in my pockets for a minute before a loud sob reached my ears. My eyes searched out the source and soon landed on a young woman sitting on a bench some distance away. I watched her for a long minute. When she wiped her eyes, a pang of sympathy ran through me. Everyone passed, avoiding her. Her unhappiness was a vice on my heart. Something stirred in me, demanding me to check on her. To make sure she was okay. My mother would be proud.
"Mr. Cullen," the valet called out as I took a step toward the young woman. My car would be fine for the few minutes it took to speak with her.
"Are you okay?" I asked, touching her shoulder a minute later.
The young woman jumped and looked over her shoulder. She said nothing just stared at me, her brown eyes heavy with unshed tears. Not a solid brown but spirals of earthy brown, colliding with honey droplets, even a bit of green filled them with a magnificent light. Despite the tears, she took my breath away.
"Are you okay?" I repeated, moving around the bench to sit next to her. Facing her, I waited for an answer.
Still, she peered at me, her eyes filled with suspicion.
What would Mom do? As if the thought was enough, I heard Mom's advice in my head.
For heaven's sake, Edward, the girl does not know who you are. Introduce yourself.
I mentally slapped my forehead.
"I'm Edward," I said, extending my hand.
She glanced at it but made no move to take it.
A quick glance down gave me an indication of why. She was clasping and squeezing her hands. Being a lawyer, I saw the gesturer many times. She was uncomfortable, maybe even afraid.
Edward, you are being foolish. Why are you bothering her?
I gave myself another mental slap.
"I heard you crying and wanted to make sure you were okay before I left."
She blinked and a tear slipped down her cheek. It took everything in me not to reach up and wipe it away or draw her into my arms.
Her lip disappeared into her mouth and came out glistening as she whispered, "No." Her hands moved to her stomach.
Was she hungry?
She went on. "My ex-boyfriend"–her left hand moved up and swiped at her eyes–"he knocked me up and broke up with me when I told him."
That explained the tears. I was not one to pry, but I found myself asking, "Can you go home?"
Her lip disappeared again before she shook her head. "My father kicked me out. I stayed with a friend last night, but she had to go out of town."
My gaze fell and I stared at the ground a moment, Mom's advice coming to me once again.
Edward, offer to help her.
Help her how?I argued. No further advice came to me.
My left hand moved slightly but instead of touching her I lifted it up and rubbed the back of my neck.
"I would like to help you," I offered, meeting her eyes once again.
A smile was planted on my face, and I prayed it would convince her I was sincere.
She was still staring at me. I could tell my offer was understood, but there was a debate in her eyes. Her left hand moved to brush her hair behind her ear. "Why?"
Her question was barely a whisper, and I didn't exactly hear her. It was her eyes that spoke to me.
"Does it matter?" I asked with mine as I said it aloud.
Her breathing hitched as she looked around, searchingly.
I wasn't sure what she was seeking.
Once her eyes were connected with mine again, I stood and offered my hand. Six heartbeats passed before she slid her into mine. It was soft and delicate, and fit perfectly in mine, like a puzzle piece.
There was a slight curve on her lips, making my heart race with wanting to see if they were as sweet as they looked. Her eyes stopped me from claiming them. Suspicion filled them. The voice inside me was telling me to soothe her, to do more, to explain. Only this time it wasn't my mother's voice. It was mine. Unnerving as it was, I ignored it, feeling it would only make her warier of me.
"My name's Edward," I told her again, hoping this time she would reveal hers.
"Isabella. I prefer Bella." Her voice was gentle, a little hesitant, and all so beautiful.
Taking a breath, I helped her up and threaded her hand through my elbow after she had picked up a bag.
Pulling a twenty from my pocket, I accepted my keys from the valet on the way to my car.
Bella stiffened next to me when we came to a stop. Glancing over at her, I noticed she wasn't looking at me or the car. Instead of asking, I followed her gaze. Someone was watching us. The distance was far too great for me to make out much about our observer's features but her reaction to him spoke volumes. The protector in me rose further to the surface. I had to keep her safe, no matter the cost.
BELLA
Shoes of all colors and in the latest fashion had walked by me without stopping. I was beginning to think no one noticed and cared when someone touched me. I jumped and looked over my shoulder. They were the color of moss yet there was an uncanny softness to them.
I remained quiet, suspicious of why he sat down next to me. It seemed to take him a moment to gather his thoughts. His voice was rich and deep, holding the same tenderness as his eyes.
What he said made me want to throw my arms around him, but I reframed. He was a stranger, though he seemed familiar as if I had met or seen him before. It was uncanny how I felt drawn to him and the feeling scared me. At some point, I had pulled my lower lip into my mouth. Releasing it, I moved my hands to my stomach, shaking my head in answer to another of his questions. My hair fell in front of my eyes. I didn't care. Before I knew what I was doing, I told why I was crying. I didn't know what it was about him that made me open up to him.
His eyes softened more, if the was even possible. He asked me about going home. Pulling my lip back into my mouth I shook my head before telling him a little more.
The stranger's gaze fell to the ground for a moment. When he lifted it, his left hand moved as if he wanted to touch me again. Instead, he rub his neck. "I would like to help you."
What in the world made him say that? I stared at him, dumbfounded. He smiled and it was, I couldn't describe it other than to say is was different from every guy I've dated. It was one of happiness growing much like a spring flower opening. I could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. He was a person who smiles with more than his mouth. I heard it in his voice, in the choice of his words, and the way he sat there relaxed. It was, dare I say it, even think it… it was beautiful.
"Why?" I whispered in question as I brushed my hair behind my ear.
Looking up and into his eyes, I saw his answer. Does it matter?
My breathing began to hitch and I looked around, searching for a camera crew. I saw no one. When my eyes connected with his again, he was standing with his hand outstretched.
Throwing caution to the wind, I slipped my hand into his. The moment his fingers wrapped around my hand, a spark ran up my arm and straight to my heart. Only his warm, gentle grip prevent my from removing my hand from his. It was soft, as if he had never done hard labor a day in his life. Privilege came to mind. And, given the creases in his pants, the wrinkle-free shirt, and the loosened silk tie, I would bet I was right. The man scream wealth with what he was wearing.
"My name's Edward," he told me. The way he said it made me think he was fishing for mine.
"Isabella. I prefer Bella."
He helped me to his feet and once I collected my bag from the bench, he thread my free hand through his elbow. His hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a folded green bill. He guided me over to the valet and slipped the young man the tip, accepting his keys.
He and I continued to his car. I stiffened the second we came to a stop next to it. Jacob was leaning against the building, his arms crossed over his chest watching me.
I looked away and toward Edward. He was staring at Jacob. "Who's he?"
There was no way I could ignore the question. "My ex-boyfriend. He got me fired. It's probably for the best. I wasn't the greatest waitress. I'll find somewhere else."
Edward reached for the door handle and opened it before freeing my bag from my death grip. "Then let's go."
I slid into the passenger seat. The interior of the car was impressive. It had leather seats in the deep color of Merlot wine and black leather around the edges. The dashboard was black and a center console held a large screen. The car screamed luxury. My old Chevy truck could not compare.
The backdoor clicked close and all too soon Edward was behind the wheel, pulling his seatbelt across his body. I followed his example and buckled mine. He didn't say anything as he backed out, looking behind us instead of the image on the dashboard screen, and drove away from Palisade. As much as I wanted to look back, I resisted. It would do me no good and only cause more tears.
