Chapter 1 - The Scene of the Crime

December 24, 2021

Dressing up used to be my job. Ever since I'd landed a commercial at fourteen, the work had been steady and the praise fulfilling. My mom had moved us from rainy Forks to sunny California when my career really took off, much to my father's frustration. This caused the eventual end of their marriage.

He'd been adamant that I graduate high school, so my mother enrolled me in homeschool since it gave us more freedom.

I'd always loved school so it wasn't an issue. In fact, I graduated at sixteen. Once school was no longer a responsibility that got in the way, I worked even more. In the beginning it was fun, but after years of pushing the work started to wear me down.

Then the comments started. What I ate on set, what I looked like in certain outfits. Designers and photographers name-dropped models that would fit the silhouette better because they were skinnier. Renee wasn't any help either, always forcing me into some fad diet or workout regime.

But in the end, it all backfired.

Months of starving myself and a weekend of only consuming vodka and breath mints landed me in the hospital. Much to Renee's horror, I checked myself into a facility that handled women with eating disorders to get myself healthy.

In that building I learned three things. First, I needed to make drastic changes. Second, allowing my mother and those who were profiting off of me to continue to dictate my life would kill me. Third, I was enough.

So I severed ties with Renee, my agency, and my manager. I moved back to Seattle in full control of my life and finances and tried to figure out what I wanted to do next. Thankfully, when I was too young to make smart decisions, my father had insisted the majority of my earnings go into an account that wasn't readily accessible. This allowed me the time to make mistakes.

I was twenty-four when I enrolled at UDub. I rediscovered my love of learning. With my history in modeling, I also quickly realized I had a unique perspective when it came to marketing and advertising.

During my junior year, Emmett Cullen came in to speak at one of my seminars. My rapid-fire questions caught his attention. A month later, his assistant called me and asked me to come to Cullen Footwear's HQ and meet with the man himself.

Alice hated the idea. We'd met in the facility, where both of us dealt with our own issues, but she'd turned her efforts to counseling and worked at a similar place in Seattle with her fiancé, Jasper. Where I was still trusting, Alice had become a cynic toward anything still related to the world we'd both narrowly escaped.

But where she'd never been able to keep on weight, so she was skinny in a healthy way, I'd gone up to a size sixteen in the years since my recovery. Still healthy, but not a rail-thin girl whose only curve was her rack.

The meeting with Emmett Cullen turned out so much better than anything I could have hoped for. Mr. Cullen had done some digging on me with my professors, and saw something he felt screamed potential. What he offered me was a summer internship within his department, to give me some real world experience in the industry.

Out of it, I gained a mentor and friend. Emmett was eleven years older than me, so it was like having a big brother who saw all the good in me. That summer was one of the best of my life. When I returned to school, I had renewed purpose. Emmett encouraged me to get my master's when I'd been on the fence. He told me the job offer didn't have an expiration date; he didn't want me to make the choice based on a ticking clock.

At thirty, I walked into Cullen Footwear as one of their newest Marketing Specialists. I was assigned to the team that handled advertising, since I had a background in modeling and had been a part of countless print ads and commercials.

In the four years that followed, I was proud of the work I'd done here.

Emmett's wife, Rosalie, who was once a famous fashion photographer, shot almost exclusively for us now. We'd done a few shoots together in my teen years; she was happy to see how well I'd adjusted to life after modeling.

Now, it was the afternoon of my company holiday party. I desperately needed to figure out what to wear.

"Show me the options," Alice's voice called from my tablet.

I walked to the closet and grabbed the three I liked best, holding them out one at a time.

"The hunter green halter sweater dress. It's sexy but still professional."

"With my leather jacket and ankle boots?" I asked.

"Send me pictures! And we'll meet up when Jasper and I are back in town. Love you."

"Love you too, Alice."

I ended the call and, with the decision made, I got ready for the party. It was a short walk to the office, and from there, my co-workers and I boarded the buses Cullen Footwear hired for the night.

Anytime the company held a work event that wasn't downtown, Carlisle, the CEO of Cullen Footwear, insisted on providing a safe way for people to get home. The business always paid for it. It was a nice touch, and meant I could drink.

The family stood front and center, welcoming us to the festivities. Emmett pulled me in for a hug, followed quickly by Rosalie.

As soon as she released me, Esme called my name.

"Bella, lovely to see you tonight. Let me introduce my youngest son, Edward."

I watched as Esme turned, her smile dropping when she realized no one was beside her.

"Edward headed to the bar, Es." Carlisle explained.

I hugged the rest of the family and began to mingle with my coworkers.

The hors d'oeuvres were delicious and the alcohol was plentiful, making for a festive atmosphere in the ballroom. A silent auction benefitted Esme's charity of choice, with prizes raffled off for the employees.

Emmett's younger brother managed to avoid meeting me all night, but I wasn't too concerned, since it appeared he was also evading his mother.

When the party began winding down, we all staggered and stumbled out to where the buses were parked. It was a brisk night, but with the heat cranked up in the bus, I took off my coat. I walked to the back to avoid some of my rowdier co-workers, since the bus resembled a school bus on the Friday before holiday break.

It wasn't full, so there was a chance I'd be alone in my seat. Instead, the elusive Mr. Cullen plopped down beside me.

"I like your boobs," he slurred.

"Excuse me?" I almost growled.

He pointed at my feet. "Your boots, I like them."

I laughed to myself. He was complimenting himself more than me, as he'd designed them.

"I should hope so, they're yours."

He rested his head on my shoulder as the bus pulled out, his eyes screwed shut while his honey-colored hair brushed my cheek. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were; they'd barely been open and lighting on the bus was shit.

"I'm just gonna rest here for a minute until the bus stops spinning."

"Do you want me to call Emmett?"

His head shook slightly. "No. My family has been trying to keep tabsss on me aall night. I needs a break."

"Okay."

The ride wasn't long.

Edward teetered somewhere between sleep and consciousness on my shoulder. I almost thought he'd passed out when he mumbled, "So squishy."

I froze. I'd not felt that level of self-consciousness since I was in my twenties. Those two words were enough to send me into a spiral.

The bus jerked forward, which sent Edward flying off my shoulder. He stood up and walked to the front, gripping the tops of every row as he went.

I waited until the bus was mostly empty before I got off, only to run into Esme when I stepped off the bus.

"Bella, let us give you a ride home."

"Esme, it's two blocks, I'm fine. And I'm sure Edward is enough of a handful for you tonight."

Esme leaned back to examine my expression. "What did he do?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. He's been acting out lately. I don't want his bad behavior to upset you."

I leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I've survived worse comments on my appearance than what he drunkenly mumbled. I'm sure he doesn't even realize he said it."

"Bella, you want an escort?" Laurent shouted out. He was my friend, and one of the guys from finance.

"See, Esme, I'll be fine. Have a wonderful holiday."

Laurent slung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close. "That looked like an intense conversation between you and Esme. And since Edward was hiding in the back of the bus with you, should I assume he had something to do with it?"

"Nosy Nancy," I teased.

Laurent was a great friend and an even better wingman. He could prop me up when needed, but if a guy was an ass, he had the ability to scare the shit out of them. Fit, with dark skin and dreads that brushed past his shoulders, he could have been a model if he'd wanted.

"You didn't answer my question."

"He called me squishy."

Laurent's abrupt stop almost toppled me. "I can kick his ass."

"No. He isn't wrong."

"Bella, you're beautiful. If you wanted to lose weight for yourself, you know I would support it. But don't let the drunken commentary of a man-child determine your self-worth."

"I know."

We continued walking, and when we reached my building, Laurent gave me a big hug and waited until I was inside before he left.

I made my way up to my apartment, locked myself inside and slowly sank down to the floor. I didn't know how I would deal with everything I felt, but for the moment, I would live in it.