Just some fluff for good measure . . .

*V*V*V*V*V*

The next day when I arrive for my work shift, Jasper calls my name the moment I step out of the elevator.

Seeing his anxious, avuncular face makes me roll my eyes because I know exactly what he wants to talk about.

"Ok, spill, Swan," he orders, shutting the door closed behind me. It's the most worked up I've ever seen him.

"About?" I ask innocently. I love this.

"You know what. Edward told me he was meeting your mom, but he didn't tell me how it went and the idiot isn't answering his phone."

I can't help the shit-eating smile plastered on my face, though I try to control the giggle bubbling up from my throat. "You know, the more time you spend with Alice, the more you act like her. This whole matchmaking thing is an interesting look on you."

He's aghast in a very un-Jasper-like kind of way. "Don't toy with me, Jack. You have information and I need it."

At this, I guffaw for real. "It went really well. My mom interrogated him, but that was to be expected. Otherwise, she thinks he's great and she's fine with us dating – as long as we're far away from Forks and not having sex." I share this information easily, though it occurs to me if someone had told me several months ago that I would be casually discussing my love life with my boss – let alone discussing such things when I'm dating aforementioned boss' brother– I would have thought that person was crazy. But I suppose life is crazy because here we are, leaning together like gossipy, old ladies.

"Wow, your mom is awesome."

"Yeah," I agree. "I hear you are having dinner with your dad and Alice tomorrow, too."

He shakes his head. "Not this Sunday, but next."

"Oh, my bad. At least you have a week to prepare. Are you nervous?"

Another head shake. "No. It'll be fine. He was pissy with me at first, but he got over it when I reminded him he wasn't one to judge age differences given some of his past indiscretions," he says darkly.

God, I hope my name didn't come up with that whole flirting ordeal. "Ah, good. What's a little blackmail between family members?"

His expression lightens, smirking at me. "I like the way you think."

"That's why you pay me the big bucks. Speaking of which," I add, rummaging around in my bag and handing him a thick, spiral binder, "here is the manuscript you gave me on Wednesday."

Jasper stares at me. "Jesus, woman. You're like a machine. This is four hundred pages."

I shrug. "I liked it. Besides, I'm learning a lot from reading all of these."

"Man, if you were older, I'd hire you right now."

I toss my hair with a wink. "I'm going to remind you that you said that when I'm a broke college graduate."

"Mmhmm," he hums at me. "Better get to work before I change my mind," he teases, practically ushering me out.

"That's what I was trying to do before you kidnapped me in here!"

He does not deign to fake argue with me, shutting the door in my face with a smirk.

Doing what I'm told, I set to work on a new manuscript about the history of state politics in Washington. It's far more lackluster than my previous readings, but I can still edit hanging clauses and comma splices regardless of the content.

Around nine in the morning after an hour of work, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Though I hesitate to look at my screen, the strong suspicion I have regarding the sender overrides my work ethic.

I dreamt about you.

His number is not saved to my phone yet, of course.

Sorry, which of my many admirers is this? ;)

The best you've ever had, I've been told.

I grin at my tiny screen, wanting to hug my phone to my chest. Deciding to not draw out my hard to get act, I text back, Ah, my favorite one. Good morning, Edward. :)

Good morning, Isabella. :)

Now, about this dream . . .

Hmmm, maybe I'll tell you over dinner.

Holy shit. I think I've actually begun to sweat. Or drool. Maybe both.

Tonight?

Yes – if you're not too wrapped up in all your other "admirers." ;)

I can always make time for my number one – as long as it's after four o'clock because I have work until then.

How about five o'clock then? That should give you enough time to drive.

Depends on the location of our little rendezvous.

There's a longer pause before he answers, I know a place in Hurricane Ridge. It's far enough away that no one will know us.

I'd love to, but I have to ask my mom first. I cringe as I send it, but that is our reality.

No problem. Just let me know.

God, he's sweet.

"What's gotten into you, zaika?" Demetri asks as he walks by my little work area, catching me guiltily stashing my phone. "You're grinning like you won the lottery."

"It's just a great day today," I say enthusiastically.

This draws a laugh, but not from Demetri. Glancing behind him, I see Tori looking at me, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her amusement. Zeroing in on her mischievous eye contact before she looks back at her computer, my good mood evaporates because I'm now 95% confident that she knows why I'm so happy. Maybe Edward is better friends with her than I thought.

Demetri doesn't notice the calculations I've made in a split second, continuing on to say, "Wow, whatever you're on, I want some."

"Sorry, my shit is way too expensive to share," I force myself to joke.

He shakes his head in amusement before continuing on his way and I pretend to actually do what I'm paid a ridiculously small stipend to do. However, internally, I'm considering the possibility that Tori knows about my relationship with Edward. Even if he told her, she might not know all of it – like that I'm sort of his student. But she must know about the age difference. She and Edward must be much closer than Edward let on.

Still, her laugh confuses me. Is she happy for us? Is she plotting revenge on me for stealing her fuck buddy? Or am I just insane and misreading her amusement? Maybe she thought my comment was funny for some reason and has no idea about Edward.

I effectively spend the rest of my day making myself crazy by doing shoddy reconnaissance work in between editing, frequently glancing over at Tori's desk to see if she's looking at me any differently. She barely spares me a glance, though – because she's working like she's actually supposed to.

By the time the day has ended, I'm barely excited for my dinner with Edward anymore, half-heartedly smoothing down my hair in my truck's rearview mirror. I didn't think we'd have to readdress the secrecy clause of our relationship so soon.

When I pull up to the restaurant Edward picked, I'm grateful to be donning my work outfit because this place is not a jeans and t-shirt kind of establishment. A doorman waits to clear the way for my entrance and a hostess is standing behind a golden-gilded podium inside. God, I hope Mr. My-Father-Owns-An-Entire-Company is paying for this.

"Hello, welcome to Francesa's," the hostess says professionally. She's blonde, a tad older than me, and sleekly dressed. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh," I hesitate, unsure. "I'm supposed to meet someone here. I don't know if he made a reservation, though."

She's unfazed, smiling mechanically. "Is there a name I could look up to check?"

"Um, maybe Masen?"

She taps a few keys on her podium computer and nods. "Yes, Masen for two at five o'clock. Mr. Masen has already been seated. Tiffany will show you to your table," she says, gesturing at yet another blonde passing by.

I'm led through a dimly lit dining room with white tablecloths, real candles, and fresh flowers at every table. The place is packed with mostly couples, though I see other people gathered in suits like they're ready for a business meeting. I suppose this is a good establishment to take clients to impress them. Of course, I suppose Edward is trying to impress me, too.

I think my heart stops when I see him – forget any anxiety I have about Tori. He's dressed in a dusky gray suit, far more formal than his usual school-wear, tucked into a corner booth that could probably fit eight people, grinning up at me with the most breathtaking smile.

Tiffany seats me by actually unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap – it's one of those places – but I barely notice her. I'm sitting here with Edward Masen. On a date. Because we're dating. I wonder when the novelty of that will wear off.

"You look beautiful," Edward says. "I haven't seen you dressed like this before."

I suppose I wasn't dolled up enough last week when he stopped by the office. With my pencil skirt and the light blue cardigan that hints at cleavage, I can understand his appreciation. "Thank you. I'm glad I'm wearing something decent because this place is super fancy."

"Sorry, I should have warned you. I just . . . I don't know. I wanted to do a big gesture kind of thing for our first date."

I suck in a breath because he's so shy and sweet and perfect. "I didn't even think about this being our first date." I have the urge to raise a glass in toast, but I don't have a beverage yet.

"Yup," he says crisply, "it's official."

And then we're both bashful, fiddling with our napkins, readjusting our silverware. Even away from Forks, being out like this makes me nervous, increasing our risk of being discovered when there is still so much time before we reach the finish line.

"So, how was work?" he asks me, clearly looking for a subject change.

Naturally, he chooses the subject that worsens my hemming and hawing. "Uh, well, interesting."

His eyes scan me, catching my tone. "Interesting," he repeats pointedly.

Before I can elaborate, the waitress comes by to take our orders, leaving our conversation anxiously suspended. Not having looked at the menu, I pick the first pasta dish I see and try not to cringe at the price. Edward orders a steak and the waitress lingers a moment too long to stare at him before disappearing.

"You were saying?" Edward prompts immediately.

I exhale, telling myself to spit it out. "Did you happen to tell Tori about us?"

His face pales and his nostrils flare. "Did she say something to you?"

"I'm taking that as a yes," I mumble, waiting for him to contradict me. When he doesn't, I say, "No, she didn't say anything directly, but someone commented about how happy I was today and she laughed like she knew."

Relaxing a little, he appears more apologetic. "I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"Yes, you should have," I say simply, biting back the nasty, swirling thoughts at the tip of my tongue. "What exactly did you tell her?"

Pulling on the hair at the back of his head like he always does when he's nervous or distressed, he softly says, "Everything."

The breath whistles out of my mouth with the strength of my sigh. "Oh, boy," I murmur. Not that I'm one to judge because I went and told my mom, but at least I didn't tell someone I used to sleep with.

"I know, I know," Edward says anxiously. "I told her last week, though – when we went out to dinner, before you and I had decided to . . . well, you know. I was all shaken up over seeing you and she wouldn't leave me alone. She kept asking me why I was being weird and I . . . I don't know, it just came out. I hadn't talked to anyone about you besides Jasper and I was much more vague with him because he's my brother. Honestly, it was a relief to say all of that shit out loud and for her to tell me some hard truths."

Any frustration I have about our broken confidentiality melts away thinking about how difficult it would be to go through all of this without a friendly ear. God knows how I would have survived without being able to talk to Alice honestly and openly. "So what did she say about all this?"

Edward gives me a small smile. "She said she wanted me to be happy and that I should just ask you out already."

My eyebrows draw upwards. "Really?"

"Swear to god," he says, placing his hand over his heart. "Tori has had some really shitty relationship experiences, but she's a hopeless romantic inside. She said she could see how much I lo – um, was into you and that she knew you were mature enough to handle it."

I once again ignore him almost telling me he loves me. "I guess I have to write her a thank you card then," I mutter.

He laughs. "You just might. Although, I haven't spoken to her since Wednesday, so she doesn't know – or at least didn't know – that we got together. Which is kind of why I didn't warn you, though I wasn't trying to keep it a secret. It just didn't cross my mind."

I shrug. "Well, I bet she knows we're together now after seeing my face. And it's fine. I forgive you. I was just worried about how many people might know or if she would tell anyone."

Edward shakes his head. "I think we're safe on that count. Tori is a good friend."

"A very good friend," I try to joke to cover my jealousy. Petty as it is, I don't like the thought of him confiding in her or being emotionally close to her. It's bad enough knowing they've had sex.

Narrowing his eyes, he reminds me, "Not since I met you."

"You haven't gotten any in a long time then," I quip to break the tension.

Luckily, my bid works because his mouth drops open and then a reluctant smile follows. "A couple months isn't that bad."

"Maybe for you," I mutter. This is the longest I've gone without having sex since I was fifteen and fooling around with Alice. But maybe he's just trying to make me feel better about waiting so long.

"Oh, right. You have a mysterious past," he teases me, though the question is implicit in his tone.

I give him a look. "Yup."

"That you don't want to talk about."

"Yup."

"Hmm," he hums, regarding me with both curiosity and frustration.

Opting to cut short my monosyllabic responses, I say, "It's not exactly first date kind of material. Isn't there a rule that you're not supposed to talk about exes on the first date?" Never mind that I brought up Tori immediately. "Besides, I distinctly remember an intoxication clause."

His eyebrows rise. "Not budging on that one, huh?"

"Not tonight," I admit.

After regarding me to determine how serious I am, he says, "Ok. What would you like to talk about?"

A smile lights my face. "I want to hear about this dream you had."

He flushes with color and it occurs to me it's much easier to be brave over text. "I dreamed that we were driving down the coastline in this yellow convertible. We were both laughing about something and your hair was flying everywhere and the sunset was hitting your face. It was, um . . . very vivid," he finishes diffidently.

Although I felt an initial disappointment that he wasn't going to tell me about some erotic dream, I'm awestruck. The picture he paints is so peaceful, so idyllic. Suddenly, it's all I want – to drive somewhere with Edward away from all our problems. "That's a great dream," I say sincerely.

"I thought so," he agrees softly.

"Maybe someday."

"Spring break," he says impulsively. "I'll take you."

"Really?"

"Really."

*V*V*V*V*V*