Okay, everybody still breathing? Wow, that was some reaction. That's why I have been so fail about responding. Overwhelmed. Inbox flooded. I will try, I promise. You all took it much better than I expected. Many of you simply typed out a scream (and I totally get that reaction), but many others were actually complimentary, which I appreciate.
So..I never write the same scene from two points of view, it's just tedious for me. And originally this chapter was not in the story, but as I reviewed it, I knew you would all want to see it, so here it is. It sheds a little light on what just happened. You'll get more explanation in the next couple of chapters.
And I still love you all for reading and reviewing, even when you're ripping me a new one.
Disclaimer: Twilight's not mine.
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EPOV
I was fucking miserable after I got off the phone with Bella. Here I was supposed to be celebrating my glorious new revived career with Marc and all I could do was dwell on how that had not gone the way I'd wanted it to. Her voice…so hard and distant. And she had to talk to me about something? Fuck. Not good. Not good at all.
I thought putting our song on her album meant we were edging closer to something real and now one phone call made me doubt everything all over again. I told her about Rome hoping that it might be my segue into a bigger conversation. I was going to ask her to come join me there as soon as she had a break. But then she shifted gears and bolted off the phone. I had a terrible sinking feeling that I knew exactly what she was going to say to me later.
Well, I'd have to suck it up and at least try to enjoy myself. Marc was here to celebrate and he deserved a decent night after everything I'd put him through. So when he suggested scotch after dinner, I said sure and I tried to keep my tone jovial and light.
Marc was one seriously uptight guy by nature, soft-spoken and organized, not at all what you'd expect of an agent, but he was damned good at his job. One of the best in the industry, really. During my long dark period, he'd managed to keep me working longer than anyone else in his position could have, and I'd always be grateful for how hard he worked, and how loyal he was to me. Many agents would have dropped my ass cold by now, but Marc stood by me. When he said he believed in my talent, I believed him.
Marc was telling me about the other project Scorsese was working on and we were on our third scotch when a familiar voice drew my attention away.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Edward Cullen. I was starting to think we'd never see your face in a club again."
I turned in the booth to look up at James, standing in front of our table, hands hooked casually in his pockets. I felt a flare of rage at the sight of him, stemming back to that text about Bella, the night we went to the beach. But he seemed to hold no animosity towards me, he was grinning ear to ear in fact, apparently delighted to see me.
I had just enough scotch in my system to be feeling magnanimous and apparently so did Marc.
"James Carter!" Marc cried expansively. He was funny as hell when he was drunk. So completely different. "Sit with us! Have a drink!"
Marc was waving James into our booth, motioning the waitress over. He decided that individual glasses of scotch were taking too long, so he requested the whole bottle of Bowmore Single Malt and some glasses. James cheerfully slid into the semi-circular booth across from me, with Marc between us, and poured himself a drink.
Well, I still wanted to rip his heart out for ever daring to look at Bella, but she wasn't here and Marc was feeling friendly and I didn't want to make an ugly scene, so I figured I'd suck it up and be friendly. But I reached out and poured myself three fingers of scotch, to make it easier.
It hardly mattered in the end if I was willing to be friendly or not, since it was clear James was only marginally interested in my presence. He was focused on Marc, trying to ingratiate himself there. Yeah, I bet you want him to represent you, fuck head. In your dreams. But Marc was feeling friendly and chatty, so I sat back and did my part to keep the conversation lively and I drank. A lot.
An hour later and Marc and James were trading funny stories about the director of James' first film last year. Marc was one quiet motherfucker, but he knew where all the bodies were buried in this town and if you could get him talking, he had great stories, and James had gotten him talking. It was fun and entertaining, and thanks to the liberal amount of scotch I'd had, I was actually enjoying it. Well, as much as I could enjoy it without Bella here. But I was trying not to think about that right now.
My head was spinning pleasantly and I was just becoming aware of the fact that I couldn't really feel my face anymore when I felt the seat beneath me shift as someone slid into the booth next to me. Immediately I felt a hand on my thigh, gripping hard.
"There you are, James. I've been looking everywhere for you!" I swiveled my head slowly and it took a beat for my eyes to focus on Vicki, leaning into me but looking across the table at James and smiling broadly, "But look who you've found! Edward!"
She looked at me now, her blue eyes wide and bright, her glossy lips curved in her best seductive smile. Right on cue, the tip of her tongue shot out to lick her bottom lip.
"And this is Marc, Edward's agent," James said. Vicki leaned across me to reach out and shake Marc's hand, pressing the side of her breast into my chest as she did it. Her long curly red hair fell forward over her shoulders and brushed my cheek. I inhaled and smelled expensive hair products. Her hand slid up my thigh an inch and I leaned back against the back of the booth instinctively.
Vicki looked good, as she always did, her skin smooth and pale, her red hair a long chaotic halo around her face. She was wearing some tiny skin-tight dress and her breasts were practically spilling out of the top, her cleavage obscene in its bounty. I remember a time when I'd found her extremely hot, a time when I'd been intimately acquainted with those bountiful breasts and all the other parts of her, but now all that shit felt like it happened to somebody else, in someone else's life. Now I just felt a little claustrophobic because she was sitting too damned close to me and I was drunk.
I tried to shift further to my left, away from Vicki, but it was hard to do it and not be obvious, and when I leaned away, she just followed and leaned back into me. Finally I gave up, figuring she was harmless enough. She didn't seem to be paying me much attention anyway, focused, like James, on Marc. Well, she was a struggling actress, too. Marc was definitely someone to know. So I sat back and let James and Vicki pay court to him and when Vicki poured herself a scotch and poured me another three fingers, I happily accepted and drank.
The next thing I was aware of, Marc was stretching his arms over his head. It didn't seem like much time had passed, but something about the conversation told me it had. Fuck. Did I just black out?
"Well, my friends, I think I'm turning into a pumpkin," Marc said as he dragged his hand over his face, "It's time for me to go pour myself into a cab and sleep this off. After all, I have a contract to negotiate for you tomorrow!"
Marc smiled at me and I tried to smile back, but with the whole not-feeling-my-face thing, I'm not sure if I pulled it off. James and Vicki were talking to Marc, maybe cajoling him into staying longer, maybe saying goodnight. I couldn't tell. Everything and everybody sounded so far away, underwater.
Fuck, I was wasted. I was dimly aware of that fact, but not sure what I should do about it at this point. And then stupidly, I was drinking again. Vicki poured me another and put it in my hand and I wasn't even aware I'd drunk it until I felt the burn of the scotch down my throat. I needed to stop, and get the fuck out of here. But I honestly wasn't sure if I could get myself out of here and of course now I remembered that I'd sent Sam home. That meant getting a cab. Fuck. Maybe if I sat here for a bit and sobered up I'd do better.
So I leaned back against the booth and waited. With a start I realized Vicki and James were still there. Vicki just said something to me. Did I just black out again? I had the disconcerting sensation of having just lost time. I felt my mouth moving, heard my own muffled voice. I was talking to them, I had no fucking idea what I was saying.
Every inch of me felt numb, but even through the haze I felt it, Vicki's hand, back on my thigh, squeezing, moving up. Fuck, I had to get out of here. I picked my head up off the back of the booth and the room spun around me. I closed my eyes and just thought about breathing.
When I opened them again, James was gone, but Vicki was still there. She was pressed up against me, her breasts flush against my chest, her breath warm and smelling of scotch, wafting across my face. She was talking to me, her voice low and seductive in my ear. I felt my skin prickle in response to her whispered breaths in spite of myself. Fuck. She was coming on to me. I needed to get out of here and I wasn't sure if I could do it on my own. Her voice was still there in my ear, only snatches of what she said were making sense to me.
"Eddie….so hot…remember that time?....how you always liked it when I ……with my mouth….."
Her hands were on the move, all over my numb skin. She was sitting between me and the end of the booth, so I was going to have to get her out of my way before I could hope to get up out of this booth. And then I had to get out of the club and outside and into a cab. Fuck. I was exhausted just considering it.
I put my hands out to ward her off, but she pushed into me and somehow my arm was around her. The room spun again and I had to close my eyes against it.
"I have to go," I finally heard my own voice, but it sounded like I had cotton in my ears.
"Stay with me, sweetie. You won't be sorry," Vicki was crooning. I could feel her lips against my ear and I wanted to shake my head at her but I couldn't do that without the room spinning out of control again.
"But Bella…"
"She's not here…."
Not here. Not here. My mind wandered off down the rabbit hole after Bella and when I came to again I was sure I'd blacked out this time, I just didn't know for how long. I could feel hands in my hair and I inhaled sharply, hoping that somehow it was her. But it felt all wrong, the wrong hands, the wrong smell. Bella. Bella. And then something warm and dark on my numb lips, her tongue pushing in, her hands pulling my head down, the room spun. I clenched my hands, disoriented, not sure exactly where I was or what was happening. Bella…But none of this felt familiar or right, not her lips, not her hair in my hands, not her smell…
"Bella.."