WARNING: I've been struck with severe writer's block, and not sure I'll ever get over it. I actually outlined about 15 chapters of a plot bunny about two years ago. Since then, I've started a different job with a lot less free time. I also got divorced, and it kind of shook my sense of self. I'm honestly not sure if I'll be able to write again. So, I'm putting up the two chapters that I started, unbeta'ed, hoping that will knock my muse into shape. But, I'm doubtful. Reader beware - also, if you are interested in adopting this story, please contact me.
The tinted windows of the limousine were dark enough to bring night back to our inner world. Outside, however, megawatts of halogen shone down on the red carpet now well trampled by the slow strides of beautiful celebrities and scampering of paparazzi. I looked out over the crowds, ignoring the glitterati, focused on the hunched postures loaded with cameras and sound equipment; Sherpas ready to scale mountains and lay down tribute at the idols mere mortals worshiped from far below.
On the leather seat next to me, the cell phone glowed with the image of a blond man in a tuxedo standing behind a beautiful brunette, his hands clutching her waist and his lips an inch away from her elegant neck. The woman's eyes were closed, her face a mask void of emotion. But, TMZ and half the Twitter-verse were claiming to be able to read her mind with that image that was trending at the top of all social media. According to the powers of the Internet, this was the image of true love, the lonely starlet had finally found the man she'd been waiting for.
The car was now third in line. I let out a slow, deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose in an effort to calm the rage burning inside of me. I needed to be calm for her, and I would be. At least, I would appear calm until I had fulfilled my job for the evening. Later would be a different story.
After what seemed like hours, my driver pulled up to the front of the line and a man with a Bluetooth behind his ear opened the door. White light flooded onto the leather seat for a moment before a high heel appeared, followed by a perfectly shaped leg. The blue silk gown wrapped around her hourglass figure was just as perfect as it had been several hours ago when I had watched her slip out of the limo and walk away from me. The brown eyes that met mine the instant she was inside were completely different, however.
There were over a dozen blogs and websites dedicated to the chocolate brown eyes now gazing at me. Fans pronounced they were the most expressive orbs to have ever graced the silver screen. Critics asserted that Isabella Swan could tell an audience more with a blink than some actresses could do with pages of well-written dialog. But, none of them knew how well she kept most of her emotions hidden. I was perhaps the only one she could speak to so openly with a wide-eyed gaze and a subtle bite of her lip. In the few seconds we were alone in the car, she told me silently that what I had planned to do next was just what she needed.
I didn't bother to watch the actor who climbed in the car after her, but picked up my phone and sent a text to the driver, instructing him where to take us. The door closed, shutting out most of the noise of the crowd, shouting her name, hoping to make her turn back for the instant it would take to get another photograph.
"Keep your hands to yourself," I growled at the man, as he was sliding closer to her on the long bench seat and about to place a hand on her knee.
"Oh," he said, freezing in place, still not touching her, but close enough that she had to twist in her seat to get as far away from him as possible. "Ed, man," he went on. "I didn't think you'd be here. Don't you ever get time off?" He tried to make it sound like a joke between friends, but I could see the understanding and disappointment forming in his mind.
I thought to myself, "Thanks to you being too much of an imbecile to follow simple instructions, I've got a long night of work ahead of me." But, I only shook my head.
"Hey," he said looking out the window. "Why are we going this way, the Summit party is up on the Hills."
"We're going to my place," Isabella replied, looking out the window so thankfully she couldn't see the tent that popped up in the idiot's pants.
"What she means," I quickly inserted, "Is that the limo will be dropping her off at home, and then you and I will have a little talk while the driver takes you to whatever booze-a-palooza you chose."
"What?" He was smart enough to look a little scared at the idea of riding alone with me, but then made a very big mistake. "Baby," he said, laying a hand on Bella's bare shoulder. She flinched from the touch and I was out of my seat and pulling his arm back, my hand wrapped around his wrist so tight I could feel the bones moving beneath his flesh.
"I told you to keep your hands to yourself," I whispered with venom dripping from my voice. "Now can your pea-sized brain handle that simple instruction for the next five minutes, or do I have to throw you out of the car onto the side of the road like the trash that you are?"
"Edward," Bella's voice was shocked. "You don't have to be nasty."
I looked over at her, ready to argue, but we were both distracted by the limo slowing as we pulled up to her home. I retrieved my phone in order to unlock the gate. As soon as we were stopped at the other end of the long, twisted driveway, I opened the door and got out, quickly turning to offer her a hand. The driver was just stepping out to assist us as we stood facing each other in the cool evening breeze. The scent of her hair did more to calm me than the fresh air.
"Promise me you'll behave," she said, looking up at me with eyes that were now full of concern.
"Promise me you'll stay off the Internet for the next twenty-four hours and we have a deal." I said, flashing her favorite smile.
Bella shivered, then nodded taking a step back. I wanted to walk her to her door, or at least tell the limo driver to do that for me, but I knew that would make the lecture I was already going to get longer and more heated. She'd accuse me of treating her like a child, but all I wanted was to treat her like a lady. I wanted to treat her like she deserved, but I had to settle for what she thought she deserved.
Sighing, I slid back into the limo, now next to the actor who was frowning at me.
"Where to?" I asked.
"I don't get it," he said, ignoring my question. "I've followed all of your stupid rules for over a month. We've been out five times, and you're seriously going to get rid of me for kissing her neck?"
"You knew you weren't going to be around much longer," I replied, not bothering to hide the boredom and disdain from my voice. "That little stunt tonight wasn't about anything but trying to get more than your fair share of her limelight before it was over."
"Is she gay?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes at him.
"It's a fair question," he replied. "I mean, she hasn't hooked up with anyone that I know of."
"Bella's sex life is none of your business." I growled.
"Oh, right," he snorted. "Her sex life is obviously your business. I thought you were just her pimp, but obviously I got that wrong."
I ground my teeth together. "Tell me what party you want to go to, and I'll make sure you get there. But, as soon as you get out of this limo, I don't want to ever see you anywhere near Bella again. Whenever anyone asks, you will say that you were just friends, and are still friends. The media will get tired of that story in a few weeks. I'm sure that's enough time for you to find another way to get their attention."
He laughed loudly and crossed his arms in front of him. I stared back at him in silence.
"You're fucking serious?" he finally asked.
"Tell me what party you want to go to," I repeated.
"Whatever, man," he said.
Realizing he wasn't going to make my life easy, I texted the driver the address where I knew the most people, and more importantly, the most star-fuckers would be. It took less than a half-hour to travel the world away from Bella's little gated sanctuary to the mobbed house that was throbbing with music and strobe lights.
"Have a great life," I said pointedly as I opened the door and then got out of the way, moving to the opposite seat.
He sat for a moment, trying to stare me down across the limo. For a moment, panic struck my heart and it stopped beating completely. His attitude might mean that he actually had feelings for Bella. That would make it harder to get rid of him then if he was just trying to make a sexual conquest.
"I want an invite to the next premiere," he stated. The lights of the party illuminating only half of his face, while the other was obscured by the darkness of the limo, the interior lights disabled as per my instructions for the evening.
I snorted and started to compose a text on my smart phone. By morning the fledgling career of this no-talent barnacle would be non-existent.
"If we were friends," he continued, his voice only showing the smallest bit of nerves. "She wouldn't just cut me out of her life completely. We'd still support each other at major events."
I looked up from my screen, an eyebrow raised.
"I'll keep my distance," he continued. "A friendly hug, and a smile, just enough for the paps to take a few pictures, probably won't even make any of the major outlets. But, I'm not going to just completely disappear."
We stared at each other for another minute, waiting to see who would blink first or call each other's bluff.
He had more balls than I had given him credit for. He spoke again, and it wasn't to back down.
"Consider it an earned severance package," he said.
With a sigh, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. Despite my desire to see him completely destroyed, what he proposed was probably the best option for Bella. I nodded, opened my eyes and jerked my head toward the still-open door of the limo.
"I've got your word?" Thankfully he knew enough than to try to get me to shake on it, but still he wasn't leaving the car.
"Yes," I growled. "You'll be welcomed onto one more red carpet on her invitation. But, after that, we're done. Get your ass out of here and find another coattail to grab out there."
"Dude," he said with a laugh. "It's not the coat you want to grab, it's the tail." Having gotten what he wanted from me, he stepped out of the limo, stretching one hand back into the dark vehicle to flip me off while he gave an enthusiastic wave to the much smaller strong of photographers waiting here.
As we pulled away, I started responding to the dozens of e-mails that had started to come in a moment after the douche had dared to place his lips on my Bella's skin. Thank god for cut and paste. I managed to put out the primary fires, even though there'd be more clean up for a while. Not to mention the difficult task of finding his replacement.
By the time the limo was slowly moving up Bella's driveway again, the long night and stress were catching up with me. I was ready to collapse into bed, but a light in one of the main house's windows told me there was something even better waiting for me.
I thanked the driver, sliding a rather hefty tip into his hand. Instead of heading to the guest house, I headed across the lawn toward the glass door that opened into Bella's kitchen. Despite my tiredness, a smile spread across my face and the annoyance at the handsy actor completely disappeared for the first time.
She was standing at the stove in her bare feet. The fancy blue silk had been replaced by a simple cotton t-shirt and a pair of my boxers, turned up at the waist. She was concentrating on flipping a pancake, so I could stare at her perfect profile without making her self-conscious. All the make-up that had been expertly applied for the evening had been scrubbed off, probably as soon as she had made it home.
What was left behind was far more beautiful than anything that had ever been on a glossy magazine cover. Bella's eyelashes were naturally long; but without the mascara she wore for the public, the slight variation of color was revealed. Her porcelain skin, the envy of women and dermatologists across the globe, was indeed perfectly smooth and soft, but nearly no one knew about the soft dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. The nervous habit of biting her lip was often debated in message boards. I knew how much she tried to suppress it. The fact that her bottom lip was swollen and she still had it between her teeth told me just how much the night had taken out of her.
"Are you making that for two, or are you just really hungry," I teased, letting her know I was there.
Bella jumped back a little, her wide eyes meeting mine as batter splattered unevenly over the griddle. She frowned at the misshapen pancake and then at me. "That one's yours," she grumbled. "And you know I hate to eat alone."
I grinned at the familiar phrase, knowing she wasn't really upset about the pancake which would still be delicious. "And you know how much I look forward to a Forks breakfast."
She smiled back. "It's the best part of going to a fancy party," she replied.
We silently worked together to finish the meal she had started. I toasted a couple of slices of bread, while she filled two plates with eggs, bacon, home fries and pancakes all piled over each other just like the diner had served years ago when our dressing up for night out was a rare novelty.
Bella moaned as she took her first bite, not waiting to swallow before pouring some more syrup over the pancakes and potatoes. She gave me a guilty glance. "Marcus is going to kick my ass for this."
I waved a fork at her, shaking my head. "You're a little underweight from all the running around, and we still need to decide on your next project. It will be a few weeks at the earliest before you have to worry about costume fittings. Chances are, you'll have to put on weight, which means we'll have to have more meals like this."
Bella laughed lightly. "Dream on, buddy," she said. "Besides, it doesn't taste the same if it doesn't come after a long night of standing around pretending to have a good time."
"Who knew prom would be such good practice for our jobs," I teased.
Bella nodded, but looked thoughtful. "Do you really think I have a few weeks before I'm back on set?"
"At least," I said. "And while we're talking about timelines, I want you to promise me you'll take tomorrow off from reading scripts. No one needs a decision before next month, and you should have some time to yourself to decompress."
"Edward," she sighed, giving me such a tortured expression, I almost cracked. "I don't like making people wait. You know how anxious that is."
"Yes, and I also know that you need a break, Bella," I replied, placing my hands on the table.
I had intended to let this debate wait until tomorrow, when we were both less tired. But, perhaps if I could make her see sense before she went to bed, she'd have a better chance of resting and taking tomorrow to put her worries aside. It wasn't something that came easily to Bella, so I knew odds were not on my side.
She had laid down her fork and crossed her arms over her chest. The small pout would have been adorable if it wasn't going to be soon followed by her stubbornly disagreeing with my reasonable direction.
Our quiet standoff was suddenly interrupted by a ringing sound.
We both turned to stare at the wall phone. Neither of us moved, as if we had forgotten how such relics of years past functioned. It rang a second time and I realized I had stopped breathing. Bella was also holding her breath, as her eyes moved from the phone to the clock on the wall. It was 3 am.
Only a few people had the number that would create the oddity of this phone ringing. And there would very few reasons why any of them would chose to use it.
"Maybe it's just someone worried about the pictures from tonight," she said, still not moving to pick it up.
We both knew that wasn't true. But, I nodded and gave her hand a squeeze before standing up from the table and picking up the phone.
"Hello," I said into the receiver, the weight of it in my hand and the coolness of the plastic against my ear strange and unfamiliar.
"Edward?" came a familiar voice. "I'm so sorry to call at this hour, but Charlie's in the hospital. He's had a stroke."
I tried to keep my face passive, but Bella knew my expressions as well as I knew hers. She placed a hand to her heart and her face crumbled into pain.
"Who?" she whispered.
"It's your dad," I replied to her, softly before speaking back into the phone. "We'll be there in a few hours, Sue."
Chapter 2 will be up shortly.