Her Bridesmaid

Typically when you lose your job you never see your boss again. Bella can't seem to get rid of hers. To make things worse she's wildly attracted to him. She wants to shake him but she can't. He's following her into a possible new chapter but she won't put the book down so long as he's in it. Rated M for future lemons, BXE, and Cannon Couples.

Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer


One:

"Swan!" A voice makes me jump.

"Yes," I glance back at my boss.

Her eyes narrow as she stalks toward my desk, holding what I can only presume is my latest fluff article.

"This needs more work," she slams it down on my desk, a red marker covering it.

"Jane," I sigh, "it's a puff piece about veils. I didn't ever expect it to be award-winning stuff."

'Bridal' is the most prominent wedding publication in the country. How'd I end up here? Who bloody knows.

I thought it would be a step into a journalism career. I liked weddings when I started - the idea of inspiring and supporting someone in love, preparing to say 'I do' appealed to me. It seemed less and less about that now, and more about trying to cover my rent while staying somewhat sane-ish.

This building is the publishing home of the country with magazines, online news sites and newspapers about everything and anything.

"Isabella," Jane's eyes turn furious, "it's not just a veil. It's designer veils. Fix this."

It's easier to do it than argue I suppose.

I flick through the pages and shake my head, annoyance starting to take over me. Jane has turned her back on me, but that doesn't mean she's out of earshot.

"Anyone who reads this magazine would probably strangle themselves with a veil anyway," I huff.

"Pack your stuff up," Jane turns on her heel, "I want the desk cleared in an hour. If you're above this piece, then this job isn't for you anymore. You've got one hour otherwise security will come and assist you."

Shocked, I stare at her and blink.

This job had sucked my soul for the past two years. I'd been yelled at, I'd worked for free, and I'd had my personal life boundary jackhammered down countless times. The other employees were toxic and frankly, I'd been trying to quit for months. But jobs are few and far between right now. Rent in New York isn't cheap.

"Jane, please," I begin.

"I don't have time," she snaps at me, storming toward her office.

I sink into my chair, huffing with annoyance. After all the shit I've put up with in this office it was a veil that took me down.

"Need help?" The unpaid, unappreciated intern offers quietly from behind me.

"No," I shake my head, piling my things together, tears threatening to disrupt my composure, "thank you."

When I step out onto the street I let a tear slip. My desk is in the cardboard box in my hands and the only thing on my mind is wine.

I can't believe she fired me over a veil.

I knew it was my sharp mouth - I'd been spending way too much time with my best friend. Granted living with her made it hard to escape her influence.

As I stand on the sidewalk and wonder which direction to walk both in reality and metaphorically, fate makes its mind up for me.

Rubbing salt in the wound is falling to the ground, with your box of stationary and discarded USB sticks being thrown down with you. My hands hit the pavement, skin scrapping the cement. Stinging sensations burn into my wrists immediately. My dignity stings a little too.

"Oh shit," a masculine voice grunts.

Glancing up I catch a hand in my peripheral vision. Placing my hand in it, I accept the offer back to my feet, as the mystery man ducks down to begin picking my life back up.

"You know you should really pay more attention in a city like this," he gathers everything up, shoving it back into the box, before standing and holding it out to me.

A bitchy remark like that might have seen another appearance from the snarky tongue that just made me unemployed. But this man. Holy snickers. He's hot.

The haphazard way his copper hair falls (kinda like he's just screwed a woman's brains out), his deep green eyes drag me into his trap, his sharp jawline is so lickable, his broad superman shoulders, his pouted lips, his nose's….

"Miss," he sighs frustrated, "are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

"No," I snap out of it, "sorry. I'm just…"

"Here are your things," he shoves the box into my torso, releasing it as my arms instinctively wrap around it, "I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm actually in a rush."

I'm unable to say much more than a muted nod.

How had he rendered me so speechless? I mean… he's kind of rude. His tone is somewhat snappy. I should want to shout at him, cuss him out, throw my stupid ass stapler at his head. But I just want to know what sound he's made if I managed to find a sweet spot on his chest with my tongue.

"Well," he motions to the box, "I hope your day gets better."

"Better than getting thrown to the floor by a Hercules himself?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Thrown to…" he shakes his head, "you were standing still like a deer caught in high beams."

"You Tom Brady tackled me," I study one of my grazed hands, wincing at my slightly torn skin.

He rolls his eyes, trying but failing to hide the amusement in his crooked grin.

"It's all about perception," he shrugs.

"I perceive you're a rude ass," I huff.

Okay, maybe I'm over the fact he's the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on. Possibly because the sting from falling is slowly intensifying.

"Okay so, you just got fired and you're now taking it out on me," he runs a hand through his hair and my breath hitches ever so slightly.

Well shit. When he does that...

"I didn't get fired," I shake my head, "I quit. This place is a shit place to work."

"Oh, is it?" He glances at the building, and then back to me.

"Totally," I grumble, "toxic people, toxic place. More toxic than that lake in The Simpsons."

"Worse than a fish with a thousand eyes?" he teases.

"Sure," I shrug, "I'm glad I don't have to waste another day writing utter bullshit for readers who are brainless."

"Brainless," he tilts his head, "that doesn't say much about the management and board members."

"They're probably on the top floor laughing in their floor-to-ceiling window, corner offices at my insult," I say.

"I doubt that," the grin on his face has morphed slowly, "they're stupid to let you go in my opinion."

There's a joke. I'm missing it. I'm not in on it and the expression on his face makes me feel a slight tinge of concern.

"Well I have to go," he points at the door I just exited, "I've got to take over my father's job today as head chief of the brainless."

"Huh?" I glance at him horrified.

"I'm the new CEO," he winks at me, walking backward toward the door as he speaks to me "it's a shame we won't get to work together. I would have loved to hear your ideas on making the place a little less like a toxic lake."

Well fuck.


Thanks so much for reading x