Happy Thursday, everybody!

I enjoyed hearing all of your predictions and opinions after chapter 4! I had a couple of things I heard from multiple reviewers that I want to address.

First, yes, Jessica and Mike are together. No, Mike does not know that the "old friend of the family" that Edward ran into is Bella. Technically, this is an oversight on Mike's behalf. He never asked Edward what Bella's name was. He just gave the instructions to charm her and see if she has info about Jacob Black. Mike will not correct this error for a while. He's focused on other details, and he's only human ;)

A few of you guys were concerned about Edward's reluctance to shoot James and wondering how he would have gotten so far in Aro's organization without being tougher. Edward has been climbing his way up the ranks for four years. He hasn't been on Aro's crew the entire time. In chapter two ,he touches on the fact that while sometimes he has to get his hands dirty (i.e. the bar fight with Jake and Quil), he usually tries to let someone else do the heavy lifting (i.e. telling Felix and Alec it's on them to beat up Benny). Shooting James was the first direct order he'd received from Aro to kill. Aro does have plans for "Tony," and we will learn more about those in chapter six.

Keep the reviews, theories, and questions coming! I love hearing from readers!

Now, let's see if Bella can behave ;)

BPOV

Go with the blue one! It makes your boobs look awesome!- J

I laugh at the meme Jessica sends with her text. Okay, my navy halter dress may make my chest look great, but I'm not going for Dolly Parton here.

I chuck my phone on my bed and search through my closet for my nude pumps. It's been years since I've broken them out. Life in the hospital isn't exactly glamorous. They're tucked behind a stack of old skinny jeans and flannels- my college uniform.

My pre-date preparation concludes as I slip large hoops into my ears and examine every angle of my reflection. I pass for presentable.

Tony isn't due to pick me up for another fifteen minutes, so I decide to take the edge off my nerves with a bit of Chardonnay. I pop the bottle, pour a glass, and take it to the couch. My hair took far too long to style into soft waves, so I'm careful not to lean on the cushions as I flip on the TV.

"The victim is recovering tonight at Mercy Hospital. Back to you, Kim." I groan as the reporter mentions the hospital. I can't ever escape from work.

"Thank you, Rachel. Now on to the weather."

"It's going to be a chilly one this weekend, folks! We've got a high of forty-two tomorrow and thirty-nine on Sunday."

"Shit." I glance down at my dress, which leaves plenty of bare skin exposed to the elements.

While I down the rest of my wine, I debate the small collection of non-scrubs in my closet. Tony is picking me up in ten minutes. Maybe, I should switch to jeans and a sweater...

My doorbell rings as I pour myself a second glass of Chardonnay. He's early.

"Um, just a minute!" I chug down half the glass, choking as I come up for air, and stick the bottle in the fridge before hurrying toward the door. I smooth my dress for good measure before swinging the door open.

"Hi." He's all slicked-back hair and clean-shaven face, wearing a button-down and holding out a bouquet of pink roses.

"Wow," I whisper, stunned at this new Tony, who I'm pretty sure did walk straight out of a shoot for GQ.

"That's my line. Can I come in?"

"Oh, yes!" I step back, taking the flowers and waving him inside. "Let me put these in some water."

"Nice place you have here," he says, following me toward the kitchen.

"Thanks. It's a good starter home."

"You look gorgeous." I can sense his gaze on me as I pull a vase from a cupboard.

"I wasn't sure if this was okay to wear. The news said it would be cold tonight…." I trail off, gesturing to the TV still playing in the background.

"We'll be inside. Don't change. You're stunning." Heat radiates through me as he looks me over with a hungry sweep of his eyes.

"Let me grab a coat." It's time to go- because I'm about to hop onto my kitchen counter and beg him to take me right then and there.

I click off the TV before grabbing my coat and clutch off the kitchen table. Tony helps me slide my arms into the jacket, his fingers lingering at the back of my neck as I button it up. I swear I hear him whisper, "beautiful," but that could just be my imagination.

He clears his throat and leads me toward the door. "We should probably go. I'm parked in front of a hydrant."

"You have a car?"

"That surprises you?" He laughs, waiting for me to lock up.

"No! I mean, you were walking the other day, so I assumed…."

"It's on loan." He winks, nodding to the silver sports car at the curb.

"Jeez, from who? Do you have famous friends I don't know about?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he mumbles, opening the passenger side for me. I slip in and buckle up while he jogs around to his side.

"Do I get a clue on where you're taking me?" I ask as he starts the car and pulls onto the street.

"It's a place called Il Giardino."

"I've never heard of it."

"It's new."

Tony's hand rests on the gearshift, and I let the conversation wane as I become transfixed by the muscles of his forearms flexing when he changes gears. It takes me too long to realize the car isn't an automatic.

"You drive stick?" I blurt out.

"Yeah," he says like it's an obvious answer because- well, it is.

"Wow." It's starting to feel hot in the confined space, and I wonder if he'd be mad if I cracked a window.

"That impressive, huh?"

"You have no idea." I remind myself that the car is on loan, and whoever the owner is probably doesn't want us getting frisky in the backseat.

"Do you like Italian?"

"Do I like Italians?" I'm squirming in my seat, and I'm ready to tell Tony that if he's Italian, I love Italians.

"No, the food. Do you like Italian food?"

"Oh, yeah! Food. It's great." I stumble around my answer. Pull it together, Swan! He's just a man!

"Good. Although, I'd love to hear your take on Italians," he teases.

I glare at him as he laughs at me. It's not fair that he's not affected by me the way I am him. I'm rusty on flirting, but I decide to try and tip the tables in my favor.

"It's warm in here," I say, unbuttoning my jacket. I position myself so that my dress rides further up my thigh when I cross my legs. Tony's gaze drops to the exposed skin, and his grip on the gear shift tightens.

"I can, uh, turn the heater down."

"No, I'd rather be hot."

"Trust me. You're succeeding."

"Oh, yeah?" My words are breathy, and my pulse is picking up speed.

He licks his lips, but he's back to staring out the windshield as he pulls into a parking garage. "We're here."

"Where exactly are we?" All I can make out are the glass and concrete walls of the business district.

"You'll see."

He pulls into a spot and cuts the ignition. His eyes dart to my thighs once more before he drags a hand through his hair and climbs out of the car.

He's trying to be a gentleman, so I pretend to organize my bag and adjust my jacket while I wait for him to open the passenger side door.

"Thank you," I smile and take his outstretched hand.

He lifts my hand to his lips and mutters, "Anytime, beautiful," as he kisses my skin.

He has a light touch on the small of my back as he leads me toward a nearby elevator bank. He's got a smug look, and I get the feeling he's put effort into this date.

We ride the elevator to the top floor, and I'm dumbfounded at what awaits.

"Oh my God," I whisper, soaking in the stark contrast of the whitewashed walls and the vibrant greens of the vegetation growing around us. We're on the rooftop of a downtown building. I should be bombarded with the scent of city air, not the earthy tones of fresh herbs.

"Welcome to Il Giardino!" A perky hostess greets us from behind a podium.

"We have a reservation," Tony says, "Masen party of two."

"Absolutely! Right this way. Have either of you dined with us before?"

"No."

"Well, we're excited to have you. Il Giardino is the only greenhouse restaurant in Chicago and one of the top-rated in the world. All our produce is grown here in the restaurant or at one of our other greenhouses on the outskirts of the city."

"This is amazing," I gush as we take our seats.

"We get that reaction a lot. Our menu changes by the season, and we have daily specials. You can find those on the top of the entrée list," she explains, handing us menus.

"Thank you." Tony nods once, and she takes her leave. "So, what do you think?"

"I never could have imagined this place existed. I'm in awe."

"A guy I know was an investor. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't, either. It's cool, the concept."

"And look at the view!" I'm so focused on the greenhouse's interior that I didn't think to look out the windows. The city skyline stretches before us, lights sparkling as dusk slips into night.

"You almost forget you're in Chicago when you're in here."

"It reminds me of home. The greens and the scent of the Earth. I love it."

"Yeah? I thought it might." Tony's smile illuminates his face, giving the view of the bustling city a run for its money.

Our waiter interrupts us to get drink orders, a white peach sangria for me, and a bourbon for Tony. We pick up our menus to peruse our options as a loaf of mouth-watering rosemary bread is placed in front of us.

"Any thoughts on what you might like?" Tony asks once the waiter leaves.

"I'm torn. This all looks outstanding. I'm a sucker for gnocchi, though."

"Sweet potato gnocchi with brown butter and sage." He reads from the menu. "Definitely different."

"What are you thinking of?"

"The lamb chops are calling my name. My mom makes the best lamb chops you'll ever taste, and it's been years since I've had them. I'm feeling nostalgic tonight.

"Must be something in the air."

"The lack of city dirt mixed with a fresh dose of carbon dioxide?" He laughs.

"It's funny you said that about the lamb chops. My best friend's mother used to make the most amazing lamb dish. I usually don't eat lamb, but I always made an exception for hers."

"Huh. Guess some people are blessed with a culinary touch."

"Guess so."

"Your sangria, ma'am." Our server returns, placing our drinks down before taking our order. I get the gnocchi. Tony gets the lamb.

"I'll give you a bite of mine if I can try a bite of yours," he says, leaning in.

"Deal," I giggle and sip on my straw. "Oh, wow! This is good!" I go in for more, and I know Tony will be carrying me out of here if I don't limit myself. The drink is fresh, sweet, and strong.

"Tell me about yourself, Bella. What don't I know?" he asks, tracing the rim of his glass with his index finger. I'm fascinated by the motion. I want to know what that finger would feel like tracing different parts of my body.

"Um, well… there's not much to tell. I'm from a little town in Washington state outside Seattle. I left for undergrad when I was eighteen. Lived in Phoenix for four years of college, then got tired of the sun and decided to attend med school in Chicago."

"Got tired of the sun," he chuckles. "Your family still back in Washington?"

"My dad, yeah. He's the chief of police- well, was the chief of police. He just retired. He's still pretty protective, so you better watch out."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Nowadays, I'm basically engulfed by work. I spend my time off sleeping or catching up on chores and Netflix."

"And going out with incredibly handsome men."

"Nope, just with you." I wink.

"Ouch." He pretends to be wounded, clutching at his chest.

"Okay, fine. I'll admit, you're not a bad-looking guy."

"Well, thank you. That might be the best compliment I've ever received."

"What about you, Tony Masen? I don't even know what you do for a living."

"I'm in construction development."

"I have no idea what that means," I say and sip my sangria.

"Basically, I oversee a lot of boring stuff. Pay's not bad, but the hours are all over the place because the company I work for does a lot of business with American companies based overseas."

"Do you ever get to travel for it?"

"Rarely. I've spent some time in the middle east, but it was unrelated."

Our conversation halts as our waiter arrives with our side salads. The presentation is beautiful, with spring greens piled high on the plate and a homemade herb vinaigrette drizzled on top.

"This is delicious," I say after finishing my first bite. "It's ruined all other salads for me."

"I'm glad you like it." Tony grins and takes a bite. I am momentarily dazed as I watch his fork slip past his lips and his jaw work as he chews.

"Uh, so, where are you from?" I ask, glancing at my plate, determined to behave.

"California," he blurts out. "A, uh, little town on the North coast."

"Were you near the ocean?"

"Yeah, but the water was always freezing where I'm from. You needed a wetsuit to go in."

"You weren't a surfer?"

"Nah. I wasn't a real coordinated kid. Kind of lanky, I had to grow into my limbs."

"Really? I can't picture you as a gangly kid. You're so muscular." I realize too late that my words come out like a bad pickup line, so I shove more salad in my mouth and pretend I'm not hitting on Mr. Buff across the table.

"Muscular, huh?" I see him flex from the corner of my eye, and I can't help but laugh.

"Oh, come on. You must put work into your body," I say, giving up pretenses.

"I work out a little."

"Uh hu."

"Okay, I'm on a pretty regimented schedule. Cardio and lifting five days a week, rain or shine."

"Well, it shows." I grin as I go back to sipping my drink.

"I want to see you again," he says.

"Isn't it early in the night to ask for a second date? Is it because I complimented your muscles?"

"That didn't hurt." He winks. "So? Second date?"

"Sure. We might have to work around my schedule, though. I work four nights next week."

"We could do a breakfast? How about Tuesday morning?"

"That sounds perfect. Oh, um, when are you coming in to get your stitches out?"

"When will you be there?"

"I can't treat you anymore. I'd get in trouble if the hospital were to find out I'm treating a man I'm dating."

"No worries, send me your schedule. I'll go in when you aren't there. I'd rather see you outside the hospital than inside it."

"I agree. It's much nicer here than in the ER."

Our food arrives as we set plans to meet early Tuesday morning at a diner off Ashland. I'm so intrigued by my dish and its beautiful display that I'm afraid to desecrate it.

"Just eat, Bella," Tony laughs as he cuts the meat on his plate.

I spear a plump gnocchi with my fork and bring it to my lips. My taste buds are in heaven as the savory butter sauce and the sweet potato mix to create a decedent experience. As I moan in appreciation, I vaguely register that Tony is doing the same from his side of the table.

"That good, huh?" He asks, going in for his second bite.

"You want?" He nods, and we swap samples of each other's dishes.

I take a bite of his lamb, judging carefully. It is surprisingly good but doesn't have the extra oomph that my friend's mom, Esme, was able to produce.

"As good as your mom's?" I ask.

"It's good, but nothing can beat my mom's cooking."

I smile in understanding, despite the fact that my mother never cooked.

We're stuffed when our waiter comes to clear our plates, so we're content finishing up our second round of drinks and forgoing dessert. I soak in the atmosphere while we wait for our check.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Tony. I didn't realize how much I missed nature."

"I know what you mean."

He signs the check and takes one last swig of bourbon before standing and helping me with my coat. I slip my hand in his as we weave our way to the elevator.

Another couple waits nearby, whispering and leaning toward each other. The woman lifts her hand to place it on the man's cheek, and a beautiful new engagement ring sparkles on her finger. I'm surprised by my yearning to have a rock like hers adorning my finger.

I glance up at Tony, who is oblivious to the other couple. He grins at me, and I wonder if he and I could ever find the kind of love that would lead us down the road to marriage.

Then the elevator dings, and I realize I've lost my mind. I'm on a first date. With a man I met after he got in a bar fight. Marriage? The sangria must be getting to me.

We're quiet on the drive home, but the silence is comfortable. At each light, Tony threads his fingers back through mine and sends me little grins. I catch him glancing at my mouth more than once, and I wonder if he's hoping for a good night kiss as much as I am.

We're lucky, and he finds a spot in front of my brownstone. I fidget with my purse because I don't want the date to end.

"Let me walk you up," he says.

"Okay."

I let him open my door again. A girl could get used to this kind of special treatment.

"I had a great time tonight," I tell him as I pause at my front door. He nods and moves in so only inches separate our bodies.

"Bella, I'm going to kiss you now," he murmurs. I'm more than willing as he places his lips softly against mine.

I whimper into his mouth as his sweet, chaste kiss deepens and his tongue strokes against my bottom lip. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer until I push my chest against the hard planes of his torso.

Everything I've held back since the day I met him rushes out. My center aches as his leg slips between mine. A growl breaks from his chest as I wrap my fingers in his hair, tugging the thick strands.

"Oh, God. Tony!" I cry, forgetting that it's ten o'clock at night and I'm well within hearing distance of a busy residential street.

Unfortunately, Tony is thinking clearly enough for the both of us, and he pulls back, placing one last peck on my lips.

"I think we got a little carried away," he says.

"Do you want to come inside?" The question is out before I'm able to think the offer through.

"Trust me. I want to. But it's probably not a good idea. If we start up again, I don't know that I'm going to be able to stop."

I tell myself he's right, that jumping into bed on a first date is a bad idea. Still, I can't help but pout.

"I'll see you on Tuesday?" He asks, backing down the steps.

"Bright and early," I promise.

"Good night, Bella."

He waits until I'm inside to drive away. I drape my purse and jacket over a chair and grin at the bouquet of pink roses on my counter. Tuesday. I can make it until Tuesday without Tony, right?

If I were a betting woman, I wouldn't put the odds in my favor. He's got me hooked, and I already need another fix.

A/N: Things are getting a little steamy in here! So "Tony" is supposedly in this just to charm Bella and get some info... but something tells me he's not going to be able to stay away.

If you're enjoying The Alias, please Fav, Follow, and Review! I can't survive without your feedback!