BPOV

His house was extraordinary. It was the epitome of Los Angeles mansion, exactly what would pop into someone's mind if they were told to envision a place in Los Angeles. It was modern and classic and probably cost more money than I could even comprehend. I knew it did, actually. Because my research told me he paid about $13 million for the place a few years ago.

I stuttered in to the intercom before I was let in to his neighborhood. For a moment, as the attendant was checking my name, I was worried he wouldn't even let me in. Thankfully, the doors opened and I was able to drive my suddenly shabby looking silver Volvo through the neighborhood.

Every house was spectacular, they had to be in this area. But Edward Cullen's was… special somehow. Maybe it was just because I knew who was in it. I was sure I had to have driven by more than a few Grammys or Academy Awards on my way up here.

I parked in the long driveway, grabbing my bag and getting out of the car. I straightened myself, hoping my cream dress with a pencil skirt would do. My heels clicked with each step I took toward his door and, for some reason, the pit in my stomach made me feel like I was walking toward an unknown disaster.

Ringing the doorbell, I fiddled with the handle on my tote. This whole thing was uncharted territory for me. Life was uncharted territory for me, really. School could only prepare you for so much and I was kind of just pretending to know what I was doing these days.

The door swinging open snapped me out of my downward spiral and there was a miniature Edward Cullen standing in front of me. Not all that miniature, maybe just about six inches shorter. But the hair, the eyes, hell, even the cheekbones were the same.

"Hey," the kid said, eyes wide as he looked me up and down. Not in the same harmless way his father looked at me two days ago, either. In the creepy, uncomfortable, this-kid-is-only-sixteen kind of way.

"I'm Masen. My friends call me Mase, though," he smirked.

"Um, is your father here?"

"I've got it, Mase," Edward's voice came from around the corner and then he was in front of me. And those God damn butterflies were back. Flying all over the place and making me wonder what his hair would feel like between my fingers.

He was dressed casually in a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt. It was like night and day, seeing him after his show on Friday to seeing him here. Again, my theory that he was like two different people seemed to fit.

"Damnit, Dad," the kid, Masen, muttered after Edward ruffled his hair and sulked off.

My eyes met his once his son was gone. His gaze was locked on me, staring at me like he was in the middle of solving life's biggest questions.

"Um, may I come in?" I whispered, my inner awkwardness coming out. Once we sat down and got to work, I would be fine. It was this beginning part that made me want to tear my hair out.

"Shit, yes, of course," he stuttered, standing aside and holding the door open for me.

I tried my best not to let my jaw drop as I looked around. The house was stunning from the outside, and just as gorgeous from the inside. The entryway was surrounded in beautiful warm, wooden walls. There was a staircase to my right and, as I followed Edward forward, I gasped at the view in front of me. Nearly the entire exterior of the living room was a glass wall, overlooking a pool and the most spectacular view of the city I had ever seen. Wow.

"Exquisite, isn't it?"

I snapped out of my haze to find him staring at me again. "Oh, um, yes. It's beautiful."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, gesturing me to sit on a crisp grey couch overlooking the entire world. "I have fresh baked muffins if you're interested."

I frowned to myself. "You bake?"

"I have two children to feed and, shockingly, they like to eat on a regular basis. Sunday is muffin day," he said simply, disappearing before returning quickly with a blueberry muffin nearly the size of my head on a plate.

"Oh, I – "

"Consider it a peace offering." He sat down on a chair opposite of me with a smirk. A decidedly less creepy and more butterfly-inducing smirk than the one his son gave me.

I sat down, setting the plate on the dark glass table in front of me. Edward Cullen was supposed to be an asshole. It wasn't just his show that gave me that impression, it was every story ever printed about him. He was said to be rude and pompous and the entitled son of two of the kindest people in the industry.

He wasn't supposed to be baking muffins on a Sunday for his kids or walking around all relaxed and sexy.

"Okay," I sighed, grabbing my notebook out of my bag. It was dubbed my Cullen Case File in my head. Every piece of information I had on him was in here. "Well, my job is to try and make it so people don't actively hate you anymore – "

"I think that's a little extreme. I'm not that hated," he quipped, smiling over at me playfully. Again, the difference between the man sitting in front of me and the man I had watched for hours on YouTube last night were staggering.

"You're rude to guests and uninterested in everything they say. The so-called game segments in your show are dull and honestly painful to watch. Sure, people may not hate you, but they sure as hell don't like you. Your parents – "

"My parents have an uncontrollable need to please people. I don't."

I sighed, eying the giant muffin in front of me for a distraction. I picked off a bit of the top and plopped it in my mouth. It was singlehandedly the most delicious thing I had ever eaten in my life, but I did my best to keep my expression from showing it. Peace offering, I thought.

Edward nodded. "Please, continue."

"Like I said, my job is to make it so you're… more well liked. The way I see it…" I looked down at my paper, knowing I had my whole spiel planned. Suddenly, it seemed completely wrong though. Still, I went through everything. "The way I see it, you have three redeeming qualities. One, you seem to be one of the few men around who doesn't have a pile of sexual harassment claims against him hiding out in HR. So, good for you on having basic human decency."

He chuckled and I swear my stomach felt like it was going to float away.

"Two," I continued, ignoring every butterfly fluttering throughout my body. "You actually used to be good at what you do. You used to ask insightful questions and make people laugh and forget their problems for an hour every weeknight."

Instead of waiting for a reaction to what could only be taken as an insult, I kept going to my final point. "And, three, your family. You've managed to raise two kids with your high school girlfriend turned wife and stay together for sixteen years."

When I finally looked up at him, his eyes were burning into me. I couldn't tell if it was anger or something else, but it made my cheeks heat up.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but my wife and I have been separated for seven years."

My jaw fell open and my eyes dropped to his left hand, still adorned with a gold band. The one constant in my research had been that he and Irina Cullen, formerly Denali, had been happily married since they were eighteen. Granted, they had gotten married because Irina had ended up pregnant and abandoned by her family, but still. They were supposed to still be together at the very least.

"Seven years?" I gasped. That was a long time for no one to know they were separated. That was a long time for a separation in general.

"The only reason we're not officially divorced is for the kids. The media is brutal and a nine-year-old doesn't need to be hearing about their parents fake illicit affairs everywhere they turn."

That made sense, I supposed. But that was seven years ago. The twins, Masen and Lucy, they were sixteen now. Surely old enough to understand the concept of divorce considering I managed to figure it out by five.

"But – "

"Look," Edward interrupted, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. "I understand your purpose. My mother doesn't want me to be publicly shamed or any shit like that. I promised her I would cooperate, and I will. But my children are where I draw the line."

I was immediately offended that he thought I would try and somehow use his children in some kind of publicity tactic.

"No – I – I understand. I wasn't saying those are the things I want to use to restore your image. They're the things I was using to convince myself you were worthy of saving," I stuttered, oversharing entirely too much.

"Ah," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And what was your conclusion?"

"Well, I don't really have a choice. But it does help me sleep a little better at night knowing I'm not trying to help a misogynic, talentless, heartless asshole."

Before he could respond his mini-me came back in, standing beside his father. He was in a pair of swim trunks now, minus the shirt and staring at me like I should somehow be impressed.

"Weren't you and your sister going to swim?" Edward asked, looking over at his son with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, well, we didn't want to interrupt your meeting. I was sent to see if…"

The pool was right in front of us, windowed walls swung open showing off the view behind the pool. Apparently, a business meeting killed the vibe of a Sunday afternoon swim.

Edward stood and I followed suit, grabbing my bag and keeping ahold of my notebook.

"You can stay if you want," Masen told me, uncomfortable smirk on his lips.

I saw Edward roll his eyes then all cognizant thought vanished from my head as he put a hand on my waist and led me from the room.

"Sorry about him. He's a walking hormone these days," Edward sighed, leading me through the kitchen to an outdoor patio. It was on the other side of the house, completely out of eyesight of the pool. There were a few comfortable chairs set up, a small coffee table between them.

"Do you not have to, like, make sure someone doesn't drown?" I blurted out.

I got that laugh again. The full body one that made a surge of pride run through my veins whenever it happened because of me. "They're sixteen. As long as they're not swimming alone, it's fine."

"Oh." I sat down, opening my notebook back up to the right page in my lap.

"Not big on kids?"

"Um, no, not really," I blurted out before I realized how it could be taken as an insult. "I mean, yours seem fine. Great. Nice. Masen is a little… forward but – "

"It's okay, Isabella," Edward chuckled. My name on his lips made my cheeks burn and toes threaten to curl inside my heels. "Do you have any siblings?"

His question surprised me. This meeting wasn't about me. And I certainty wasn't discussing my family trauma with him. "No. But we should really get back to the separation. That's a ticking time bomb and – "

"I'll answer any questions you have about my separation if you tell me why you lied about not having siblings."

My mouth fell open and my eyes met his.

"You're not the only one who has done their research. Isabella Swan, twenty-two and daughter of Charlie and Renee Swan. Divorced but both remarried with multiple children."

"They're not my siblings," I grunted out defensively.

"You share a parent. They – "

"My parents got divorced when I was five. They didn't stay together to spare my feelings like you did for your kids. I was shipped from Florida to Washington whenever one of them got sick of me, or whenever someone had a new baby and didn't want to be bothered with me.

"Yeah, maybe technically I have siblings, but not in the way that matters," I snapped. His inner asshole was coming out and I didn't like the probing questions. I got in to public relations because I wanted to solve other people's problems and not think about mine.

Edward stared at me, running a hand along his chin. His eyes were a confusing mix of intrigue and pity and I hated it.

"When did you and your wife separate?" I asked, changing the subject and opening to a blank page in my notebook.

"Seven and a half years ago."

"Why?"

"She was fucking our neighbor."

Oh. "Name?"

"Demetri Hill."

"Where does your wife live?"

"Down the street. With Demetri Hill."

I frowned up at him, dropping my pen in my notebook. Four questions in and I was furious. Despite my first impressions, the man in front of me seemed unabashedly good and kind if not a little intrusive. Maybe a little lost, because his career was floundering, but why anyone would turn their back so harshly on him was beyond me.

I shook my head, clearing some of the anger, before picking my pen back up. "Did you ever have an affair prior to the separation?"

"No."

"Have you had any relationships since?"

"Relationships? No."

I rolled my eyes, hating that he was going to make me say it. I knew the answer. No one as gorgeous as him would be celibate for seven and a half years. "Have you slept with anyone since?"

"Yes."

"Names?"

"You want the names of every woman I've fucked in the last seven years?" he asked, his voice harsh and his eyes dark when I looked up at him.

"Yes, please."

I watched as Edward squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're not here to analyze my sex live, Ms. Swan," he snapped.

His frustration made me ten times more frustrated than I already was. He was going to be a lot more work than I thought, and he didn't seem to understand how deadly a secret failed marriage was in the hands of the wrong person.

"You've been lying to the public for seven years about the state of your marriage. Your show has been shit for two years and if you don't pull yourself together within about six months, they're going to replace you. You need to either give me an inch of cooperation and decide you want to try and save your show or call your mother and let me start my career off with someone who actually wants my help," I snapped dropping my notebook in my bag and standing up.

I managed to not get lost on my way to the front door and was in my car by the time he followed me. I saw him, standing in the doorway and watching after me as I drove away.

I hated crying. I spent about twelve years crying myself to sleep every night as I grew up. Once I was finally on my own I promised myself not to let other people make me cry anymore. Not to give anyone that kind of power over me.

On my drive home I barely suppressed the flow of tears that wanted to run down my cheeks.

-B-

When I stumbled in the house, Rosalie was curled on the couch in front of the television. Our place was small, house was probably a generous term for it, but it was in a nice neighborhood and not falling apart. Two bedrooms, two full baths, and a kitchen was more than enough for us.

"How'd it go?" Rose asked, leaning over the back of the couch to look at me.

I made an ice water, downing it quickly before plopping on the couch beside her. "I don't really know."

I didn't know what to make of Edward. Didn't know who he was, not anymore. One minute he embodied everything written about him; insensitive and run. The next, he was sweet and kind and made me think he was worth saving. The dichotomy made me wonder whether I was going to have a job tomorrow.

Rose was good at knowing when to push me to talk about something, and when to let the subject die. Right now, the last thing I wanted to talk about was this afternoon, and I was more than thankful when she dropped the subject.

"So, this guy came in to the gym today. And he was possibly the most attractive man I have ever seen," she started.

I curled up on the couch beside her, pulling a blanket over my lap. A story was just what I needed to get my mind off of today.

"What about Emmett?" I asked. He was a nice guy. I knew he only had a crush on her, but it would have hurt if he had to watch her flirting with this new guy right in front of him.

"Oh, I'm going out with Emmett next weekend. Big guy finally wore me down. And, I mean, you've seen the dimples."

"Okay, so what about this new guy, then?"

"This guy is perfect for you, Bella. Perfect. He's a gym rat but not in a bad way. He's bulky but not as big as Emmett. And he's sweet. So sweet. He's been in a few times and I was hedging my bets, trying to figure him out. Then this guy walked past me and made some comment, I honestly didn't hear whatever it was, but Jacob must have and called him out on it because he came over and apologized later."

I sighed, suddenly no longer enjoying this particular distraction. "One comment and he's the sweetest guy ever?"

"Not just one comment. I could be totally wrong, but he seems like a genuine guy. And I really think you'd like him."

"Rose, I – "

"I invited him to dinner with you, Emmett, and I this Friday."

"Rose!"

"I'll sneak a picture of him next time he's at the gym. You won't be stuck with him alone, and I know you get along well with Emmett, too. It's just friends having dinner, that's all."

I sighed and fiddled with the blanket in my lap. It was very possible I was going to suddenly have a lot of free time after Edward called his mother and got me fired. And maybe it was a good way to get the butterflies to go away.

"Okay," I agreed, unable to keep from giggling with her when she pulled me in for a tight hug.

"Oh, yay! Okay, we need to go shopping sometime this week. Let me know when you can go, okay?" Rose asked, jumping up from the couch and grabbing her phone. I heard her say Emmett's name before she wandered off into her bedroom.

I went to my own bedroom, struggling with the zipper of my dress for a minute before I finally got it to fall to the floor at my feet. Once I was in a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, I made a list of all the public relations firms I could send my resume to in the morning.

A/N: Your response to this story has exceeded my expectations. Thank you for the love on the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed this one just as much. Lots revealed here. Lots more to come. Thoughts?

PS: no one ever listen to me when I give timelines/lengths. *Probably* going to try to update 3 times a week (M/W/F) but might notch it back as we get farther in to it. Who knows? Not me! Hope you enjoyed!