A/N: Here we are back with the next installment. Most of you still seem to be strongly Team Bella. Some of you feel better about Alice, but some of you are still skeptical. Everyone seems to love Rosalie. How about a little Bella/Edward interaction this chapter? Read on…

Thanks to my pre-reader Cejsmom!

Chapter 14

Both Alice and Rosalie tried to call me on Sunday, but I let them go to voicemail. I was an unpleasant ball of emotion. And for someone like me, who tended to keep things bottled up and seemingly forgotten, it was rather uncomfortable. I was pretty angry over Jasper and Kate's childish scheme to make me look more like an idiot than I already was. I'd never done anything to them. I got more worked up the more I thought about it. Edward and I had both made mistakes in our relationship. My father was the only one who had ever really openly cared about me, and when I lost him, something broke inside me. I wasn't prepared for Edward to care about me the way he had, and it had caused me to panic.

I arrived at this conclusion after lying in bed all day on Sunday and watching insipid movies on Lifetime. I hate that channel, but something kept me from changing it to something else. It was kind of depressing that my psyche was so easily analyzed. I really was boring, just like I'd told Rosalie on Saturday. Sleep was difficult because I was anticipating my meeting with Edward the next day. Not because I had a grand plan to win him back like Rosalie wanted, but because I just wanted to see him and bask in his charisma. I was resigned that any attempts to be with Edward would be sadly doomed. Alice had essentially confirmed that. And his two guard dogs would undoubtedly stop me in my tracks if I tried.

Carlisle noticed my distraction in the OR. I didn't mess anything up, but I was slower and less confident than usual. He glanced at me with concern a few times and asked if I was all right, but I reassured him several times that I was fine, just tired. He stared at me skeptically in the PACU after the second case, but didn't comment. I couldn't help think that his reticence was a boon on that particular day, even though I often coached him to be more forceful. Another reason for me to stay on at Baylor, Carlisle needed me.

Finally, blessedly, the day was over, and I had to hurry to make it to Whitlock and Associates on time. We had run over a little in the OR thanks to my wandering brain. I still arrived with some time to spare.

I wish I could say I hadn't agonized over my clothing choice on Sunday, but I'd given it more than passing consideration. I had decided on black Under Armour capri jogging tights with a retro loose navy and orange Astro's t-shirt. Rosalie had once told me that the pants made my ass look fantastic, and I objectively agreed with her. I left my hair down over my shoulders since I wouldn't be the one working up a sweat. I checked in nervously with Lucy about fifteen minutes early. She greeted me enthusiastically.

"Hi, Dr. Swan. It's nice to see you again. Mrs. Whitlock told me to expect you and let you know she was sorry she wouldn't be in today," she bubbled. I felt chagrin when I realized Alice wouldn't be there. I wondered if she was angry but remembered that she had called me on Sunday, and I hadn't returned the call. Maybe she had been going to tell me then. It was Jasper's day off, after all. They probably liked to have the same days off.

"So you're going to be working with Mr. Masen today, huh?" Lucy asked. I noticed her top was quite a bit lower cut than the other day. She dipped her chin and looked at me from under her lashes. "He's awfully handsome, don't you think? Do you know if he's single?" My stomach rolled at her assessment, but I couldn't stop myself from answering her.

"I'm pretty sure he's not, Lucy," I told her with as sweet a smile as I could manage. It was completely faked, but Lucy didn't seem to notice. She shrugged gamely and smiled back genuinely.

"Can't stop a girl from dreaming, right?" She said cheerfully, and I felt like such a bitch. She was a nice girl and a talented receptionist. For not the first time, I pondered if I were missing the same sensitivity chip that Jennifer Anniston claimed Brad Pitt lacked. I agreed and tried to be a bit more authentic in my interaction.

"Garrett set up the room for you. He hasn't come back up front yet, so he might not be done. You can head back to Room 3. It's on the back wall with the others," she directed. My ears perked at the mention of Garrett, Kate's mysterious boyfriend. Lucy buzzed me through to the gym floor, and I headed straight for the room in question.

I recognized the "2" and the "4" on the rooms adjacent to one with the door ajar, and I quickly deduced that must be the one. I cautiously approached and peered inside. A tall, dark haired man in scrub pants and a tight Rockets t-shirt was taming tension bands on an equipment rack. I cleared my throat and spoke.

"I can finish doing that. I'm early after all," I said. He turned around, obviously surprised to find another person in the room. His mouth curved in a small smile.

"Bella Swan?" he asked. I nodded.

"That's me. I'm here to work with Edward Masen," I told him, even though he already knew.

"Garrett Concord," he introduced himself and stuck out his hand. I shook it as firmly as possible. That kind of stuff was important to guys for some reason.

"Nice to meet you," I replied. "Alice has said nice things about you." He quirked one eyebrow and smiled a little wider. He'd probably heard horrible things about me from Kate.

"Pleasure to meet you, too," he said finally. "I'm surprised Jasper agreed to have an outsider work with our star patient. You must come highly recommended," he challenged. I chuckled humorlessly, not sure how to end this awkward dance.

"Well, I'm sure I wasn't Jasper's first choice," I admitted, "but I am an old friend of Alice's, and Edward wasn't opposed to the idea." I shrugged, and Garrett appraised me in silence. Finally, he seemed somewhat satisfied.

"Okay, well, this room is stocked. Let me know if you need anything." He waited like he wanted to say more. I held up the folder containing the therapy plan.

"I'm all set," I confirmed, and he gave me a curt nod. We were interrupted then, by a loud greeting called across the empty gym.

"Hey, Garrett!" I turned to see Edward crossing the room at a slow jog. Lucy hovered near the door to the receptionist's booth, clearly hoping to watch him until the last possible second. I could sympathize with her. He was dressed in black track pants and an orange Astros t-shirt. He smirked at me, as he got closer; it was obvious that we matched. He nodded at me when he arrived at our location right outside the treatment room.

"Dr. Swan," he greeted. "Great minds apparently think alike." His eyes skimmed down my body, taking in my outfit. I felt my face flush. Garrett raised his eyebrows and seemed to want to say something, but I interrupted.

"Edward. Great, you're here. Let's get started," I declared cheerfully. I was sure he was messing with me, and a part of me wondered again if he was set on getting revenge. If so, he needn't bother; just being this close to him with no hope of ever truly having him was revenge enough in my book. I gestured for him to enter the room, and I smiled dismissively at Garrett. He gave me a skeptical look but turned to leave us alone. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have other clients this afternoon, so he had no choice but to go. I followed Edward into the room and closed the door behind us. It seemed to shrink immediately. I struggled for something appropriate to say.

"So, how's the therapy going so far? I'm sure Jasper's been putting you through the paces," I tried for nonchalance, but then I looked more closely at him. Edward's face had lost all its humor and teasing. He appeared more serious and more like the guy I'd seen give interviews on ESPN. I didn't like getting his professional side, even though Carlisle had made it clear that that was all I should be seeing.

"You're right," he agreed mechanically. "Jasper is working me hard. I appreciate you filling in for him. He'd come in at midnight on a Saturday if I let him. He's a good friend." His eyes lifted and met mine. We stared at each other for a few uncomfortable moments. Even though they weren't exactly friendly, I reveled in the luxury of examining his emerald eyes again. He was the one to shift away, and I was briefly embarrassed by what he may have glimpsed in my own eyes.

"Why don't we go ahead and get started on the routine?" I asked, breaking the awkwardness. He nodded silently, and I pulled out the handout Jasper had created. Edward was more familiar than I was by now, and he reached for one of the tension bands hanging from the rack without comment.

We worked steadily for almost forty-five minutes without much conversation. Edward was dedicated and probably could do this on his own. I only had to correct his form and remind him to use the full range of motion a couple of times. I had to stand back from him to resist the temptation of touching his skin. When he needed correction on his pronation/supination exercise, I gave in and allowed myself to run my fingers along his forearm. I was rewarded with the familiar electric shock. He flinched, and our eyes met.

"Thanks, Bella," he said in a subdued voice when we were done. I frowned and shook my head.

"No thanks necessary. I'm a Houstonian. I want the Astros to win. This was purely selfish," I tried to joke to break up the tension. It worked, and he cracked a smile.

"For love of city," he quipped, and I nodded enthusiastically. We smiled at each other for several moments. "You'll probably deserve some good tickets after all of this. I think I have enough clout to work that out," he finally said. My heart sank. Free tickets were the furthest thought from my mind.

"No, I don't need tickets," I insisted. Then, something occurred to me.

"Edward, you just need to be able to pitch," I blurted. He tilted his head and gave me an odd look.

"Yes," he drawled slowly. "That is my job. I'm a Major League pitcher," he told me patiently with purposeful condescension. His lazy teasing took me straight back to when we first met. I half-heartedly swiped his right bicep, the good side. My fingers tingled where I met his skin again. He flinched again. Bad idea, I decided, and clutched my hands in my lap to keep me good.

"No, that's not what I meant," I responded with a small laugh. "I just meant that you don't have to bat anymore. Now that the Astros have joined the American League, you have the designated hitter." He couldn't stop the grin that grew on his lips after that statement. Then, he shook his head in fake dismay.

"What would your dad think?" he asked playfully. I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the mention of my father. I didn't talk about him often, and Edward may have been the last person I really confided in about him. I was surprised he remembered our conversations in such detail. I mean, I remembered them, but I figured anything I'd said to him had been disregarded a long time ago. He must have seen my face change because he followed his flippant remark quickly.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to upset you," he responded immediately.

"No, no, I'm fine. I was just surprised you remembered that story," I told him.

"You still keep things close to the vest, huh, Bella?" he asked rhetorically. He reached out tentatively and brushed my cheek with the fingers of his right hand. I was shocked and took in a surprised breath. He withdrew his hand as if it had been burned and looked immediately sorry for his action. I tried to keep my disappointment at the loss of contact with him as hidden as possible. I took a subtle step back and sat down on the stool I'd been using. Edward remained seated on the therapy table, watching me closely.

"Thanks for a great session, Edward," I said to distract myself. He smiled amusedly.

"That's my line, Bella. You're the one who gave up your time," he corrected, his eyes intense.

"Yes, well, Houstonian," I responded inarticulately, gesturing at myself, and we both had to laugh.

"I should go," he finally said, and I nodded reluctantly. We had been getting along so well, some of that old rapport reappearing. I wasn't ready to let it go. I stood and indicated that I'd walk him out.

"So, I guess you work out at the team gym at the ballpark on the days you don't come here. You probably have team trainers and the like," I hazarded. His head was down, and he had his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Yeah. The rest of the team left for Florida, though. So I have the place to myself," he responded not looking at me. Our tentative rapport seemed only to exist inside the treatment room because his reticence had returned as we made our way down the hospital's main hallway to the front entrance. Once in the parking lot, Edward stopped next to a flashy silver Corvette.

"This is me," he said still not making real eye contact. I ran my hand over the hood lightly.

"No need for your mom's hand-me-downs anymore, huh?" I asked rhetorically. That earned me a hint of a real smile and half a laugh.

"No, I can afford to buy my own cars nowadays," he admitted. "How about you? Do you still drive that old BMW?" I shook my head.

"No, I bought myself a Honda Civic a few years ago. I've been completely on my own ever since I graduated and started earning a paycheck," I told him with pride.

"Good for you," he replied with a hint of some emotion I couldn't quite define. "But you're going to be getting a very big raise here pretty soon, right?" He leaned against his car, and I was so happy that he was still talking to me. I eagerly prolonged the conversation.

"Well, yeah, of course," I attempted to sound modest, but I was definitely looking forward to graduating.

"What are you going to do with it?" he asked curiously. "New car? New house? Maybe a big trip around the world?" I frowned a little bit, sorry that I didn't have a more interesting answer.

"Well, I have to secure a job first. There's an opening at Baylor, but they won't finalize the hiring until April. I have an interview here at Texas Orthopedics coming up," I gestured to the hospital behind us, and Edward nodded appraisingly. "I also have some interviews out of town, but I really want the Baylor job." I said the last a bit fervently, and it seemed like Edward got tense, although I couldn't figure out why.

"Well, good luck with that," he said vaguely. "See you next week." Then, he tapped the roof of his car and climbed inside. I watched his car turn onto Fannin Street and disappear out of sight before I made my way to my own car.

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During the short drive back to my apartment, I decided to return Alice's and Rosalie's calls from yesterday. I debated whom to contact first. I settled on Alice mostly because I felt I owed it to her professionally to report on my session with Edward. She answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Bella, I was just thinking about you," she greeted. "How did things go at the gym today? Sorry I wasn't there. I tried to call yesterday to warn you. Jasper and I usually take Sunday and Monday off together, but I wasn't sure if you'd know that." I was surprised that she didn't sound more reproachful. The Alice who I remembered would not have hesitated to lay on the guilt trip.

"That's what I figured," I told her. "Things went well. Edward is obviously dedicated and already very familiar with the routine. He probably didn't need me. I only had to intervene twice." My thoughts went to the way Edward's forearm felt under my fingertips. I had to swallow hard to keep my brain on task. Alice was silent for a beat.

"I'm sure having someone there for the moral support was reassuring," she finally said tentatively. I sighed and addressed the elephant in the room.

"Listen, Alice, I'm sorry about Rosalie the other day. She's very blunt, and she likes to bend the rest of the world to her will," I apologized.

"But she's loyal, and probably usually right," Alice finished to my surprise.

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled. Alice laughed.

"I liked her. Don't worry. I've given a lot of thought to what she said," she paused, and it seemed uncomfortable. "You know," she began again, "you never really told me exactly what happened with Edward when you broke up. I heard a very generalized version from Jasper. After to talking with you and Rosalie this weekend, I'm wondering if I know the whole story. And that makes me feel really shitty," she declared. "Jasper is seriously in the doghouse right now. I'm hoping you can trust me enough at some point to tell me what you told Rosalie," she said hopefully. "But, you probably don't want to rehash it right now."

"No, I don't," I assured her. She laughed again.

"OK, I'll talk to you soon. Maybe we can do something just the two of us," she suggested. I heartily agreed. We hung up, and I checked the time. It was probably still too early to call Rosalie. They had probably just started dinner, bath, and bedtime routine. Since I was already dressed for it, I hit the gym for my own workout. I was pleased to find an unexpired pre-prepared pasta bowl from Whole Foods in my refrigerator and proceeded to heat that up. I watched the news while I ate my dinner off a tray on my coffee table.

I checked the time again when I was done. I knew I really shouldn't bother the McCartys before 8 pm. My eyes slid to my laptop lying on my dining room table. I was struck by the irony that I was not using my furniture for the proper purpose. I still lived like a college kid. Finally, curiosity got the better of me.

I opened my computer and pulled up Google. I had not allowed myself to do this for years, but seeing Edward again had jarred loose my self-control. I was just seeking information to help me deal with being near him; that's how I justified my actions. I typed "Edward Masen" into the search engine.

His Wikipedia page was the first on the list. The photograph was one of him in his Atlanta Braves uniform. It obviously hadn't been updated. I clicked on it furtively even though I was alone in my apartment on my personal computer. The information was not new to me. It highlighted his major career stats and highlights, including the fact that he had been a Cy Young finalist in 2012. I remembered that acutely.

The next part of the page listed his prior teams and actually did show that he had been traded to the Astros but was on the Disabled List. Maybe he hadn't had a chance to be photographed in his new Astros uniform, I mused. Several bullets that could be expanded were below that information. One detailed his amateur career at Bellaire High School and Rice and another detailed his professional career. I quickly perused them, not getting any new information just a sick satisfaction that came with reading about him. The final bullet gave me pause.

"Personal Life," it was named. I held my breath and clicked on it. The entry was blessedly short, only two paragraphs and a final single sentence. I read it carefully. It mostly contained information about Edward's parents, since his father was a well-known surgeon, and probably considered a public figure. The final sentence was what made me feel slightly ill.

"Masen previously dated Victoria Turner, daughter of the Atlanta media mogul. After a brief engagement, their relationship ended early in the 2013 season."

Edward had been engaged? The idea made me lightheaded, and I leaned back from the table and closed my eyes. Of course, I'd always known he would move on, but the thought had been a general impression not specific like this was. But it had ended. I wondered why. Of course, I could never ask him about it, since I'd have to admit that I googled him like a stalker.

The relationship had never made the major gossip circuit because I'd never heard of it. I hadn't looked him up or kept tabs on him after he made the Atlanta squad. I'd just watched a lot of Atlanta games. On the Turner Broadcasting System channel. Ugh!

All shreds of dignity were gone, so I scrolled down the rest of the search returns. One was the Houston Astros page, and another was .com reference. The rest were just links to various sports networks and newspaper articles about the trade. There were a few fan sites at the bottom, but I didn't think my heart could take looking at those. Instead, I clicked on 'Images' at the top of the Google page.

There were probably hundreds of images that came up. Most of them were photos taken during games with him either on the pitcher's mound or in the dugout wearing his team jacket and warming his arm. I saw his Atlanta Braves team photo and a couple of him horsing around in the locker room. His Sports Illustrated and Men's Health covers were there. I had those magazines from last year hidden in a stack of Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery issues under my bed.

I continued to scroll and recognized a picture of Edward with his father standing on the green grass of an unidentifiable ball field. I couldn't tell where it was, but I thought it must have been in Lynchburg or Mississippi when Edward was still in the Minors. They had their arms around each other and were both smiling widely. Dr. Masen looked so proud.

Below that photo was one of Edward wearing a suit standing next to a statuesque redhead in a tight emerald green dress. One of his arms was behind her, and they were standing close together. Her face was slightly turned, looking at Edward, while he was directly facing the camera. His expression was serious, but hers was soft.

I'd gone this far, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to go all the way. I entered the name 'Victoria Turner' in the search field. The results came back, and I was able to confirm that she was the same girl in the photo I'd just seen. I didn't find much information on her. She graduated from Emory University, and she worked for Turner Broadcasting. Her father was a well-known Braves fan, so I figured that she had met Edward at a game.

My guilt got the best of me then, and I decided I had snooped enough. I worried I'd discovered too much and wouldn't be able to act normally when I saw Edward again next week. Not that I acted normally around him today either, I realized wryly.

I checked the time. It was after 8 o'clock, but I really didn't feel like talking to Rosalie now. I would return her call later this week. It was still early, but I decided to go to bed. I took a quick shower and climbed in bed, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. I leaned back over and turned it back on almost immediately. With great shame, I slid out of bed and reached underneath it. I pulled my stack of magazines out and shuffled through until I found Edward's Sports Illustrated cover.

He was posed with his trademark smirk, wearing his Atlanta Braves uniform and holding a ball and glove. It had been taken just after the 2013 season started, and he'd been touted as a favorite to win the Cy. I'd just seen the image on my computer screen, but there was something about being able to hold the real thing. I clutched the magazine to my chest and got back in bed. I stared at Edward's face for a while, tracing a finger over his playful expression.

Finally, I laid the magazine on the bedside table and turned out the light. Enough melodrama for tonight. I'd be strong again tomorrow.

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Ted Turner is an international media mogul who got his start in Atlanta and still considers it home. He has been an owner of the Atlanta Braves since before they were any good. As a fellow Georgian from a modest background, I have to admire Ted Turner's success even though I consider his ex-wife Jane Fonda to be one of the scum of the earth. Please google it if you don't understand why I might think that. I don't want to discuss it here.

Anyway, I have not used Ted Turner's name in this story, but I've used his general idea to create an unnamed character. Victoria Turner is the daughter of a media mogul, but she is not the daughter of the Braves' owner. That would be just too weird. So this is probably all more than you wanted to know but I do like to tie everything to real life. As you know .