A/N: Hi gang. Thank you so much for the love. It seriously rocks my world. Looks like Tyrantward is here to stay. So without further ado here's some Edroar for you.

HappyMess: My love for you is big as Texas!

*DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight…I'm just a girl that FINALLY figured out how the FGB auction works (thanks Mary)*

I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!

-Dr. Seuss

I made it about halfway down the hall before it hit me…I gave that moody sleep wrestler exactly what he wanted.

A small puff of air left my nostrils as my epiphany became clearer to really was like an angry lion. Suddenly, the analogy made perfect sense. My pace slowed and my face scrunched up a bit as I formulated my new found theory.

If he were a lion, his company would be the jungle, his employees the wild and crazy animals…emphasis on the crazy, and then it dawned on me…my job would be most similar to…the lion tamer.

I covered my mouth to keep from cackling aloud at the thought.

Instantly my mind wandered to the only lion tamers I knew of, Siegfried and Roy. I imagined myself onstage in Las Vegas, bright lights, rock music blasting, as I tamed the mighty Edroar for all to see.

I grinned widely while visualizing myself with a long black whip in one hand, a chair in the other, showing that savage beast who's boss.

It didn't take long for my smug grin to turn into a worried wince as I remembered how things turned out for poor Roy.

Ouch!

I made it to the staircase before realizing that Siegfried and Roy weren't even lion tamers, they were magicians…that worked with tigers, not lions. I also realized that based on Edroar's reaction to me, I was more of a lion inflamer than a lion tamer.

I'd be better off if I were a magician, then I could create the illusion that my boss wasn't such an angry dictator…emphasis on the dic.

I really didn't know what to do and that made me very uneasy.

I treated him just like I would treat anyone else. I went out of my way to let him know I wasn't afraid of him. I wanted him to know that. He certainly didn't scare me, annoy me yes, disgust me most definitely, but frighten me?

Only in his dreams.

That was probably what he dreamt about when he fell asleep during his massage, scaring people and perhaps kicking puppies or stealing candy from children. I bet those were a few of his favorite things.

I made sure he knew he didn't frighten me, but what I neglected to tell him was that I was an insane masochist that enjoyed making him angry.

He didn't need to know about that. Though, it would probably make him really angry, so it was pretty damn tempting to tell him.

In my warped mind I compared it to entering a room and spotting a large red button marked 'Do not push.'

I was the girl that would have an uncontrollable urge to push that button. My uptight boss was like a walking red button wearing a 'do not push' sign across his chest.

If no one ever dared to push the button how could they possibly know what would happen?

So I pushed.

Several times actually.

I couldn't seem to help it. It didn't accomplish much more than getting myself into a screaming match with him. Though I did manage to spot a small crack in his cold, hard veneer, he frowned for a split second before admitting to me he had no sense of humor. I was sure of it. What that meant I had no idea.

Why did I even care?

I thought about that for a moment. The man was my boss, so it was beneficial for me to understand the type of person he was.

Also, if I were being completely honest with myself, I cared because it was in my nature to help someone that had inner turmoil going on. I knew how exhausting that could be. I really did.

But, was it my place to psychoanalyze my boss and then call him on it?

Why couldn't I ever mind my own business, follow along with the crowd, not make waves?

I wondered if I was even capable of swallowing my pride like the thousands of other employees at Cullen Publishing did each week to get their paycheck. Could I toss aside self respect all in the name of the mighty dollar?

Frustrated by my bleak situation I stomped my foot down on the marble floor beneath me.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" I grumbled in annoyance, calling on the holy family for some odd reason.

Why did the man have to be so damn insufferable?

Gently I massaged my temples while exhaling, a technique I often used to calm myself down.

A small group of women walked my way as I stood there grumbling about Jesus and massaging myself.

They stopped talking only long enough to pass by, carefully distancing themselves from me, huddled in a cluster, practically scaling the opposite wall.

I got the distinct feeling they thought I might lash out at them, like some kind of rabid animal.

What the hell?

People were reacting to me as though I were some kind of crazed animal. Mr. Cullen didn't scare me, but I understood why his employees feared him. He was uptight, intense and angry.

But I wasn't…was I?

Suddenly, I wasn't so sure anymore. It took me a few moments to wipe the self doubt away. No, I was nothing like him. He was my complete opposite as a matter of fact.

I was carefree, uninhibited and fun loving. I'd always been that way. Not that I didn't have things to be angry about. Who didn't? But I firmly believed life was what you made of it.

I decided not to waste another minute worrying. Worrying never once solved a problem for me.

The solution was actually quite simple, really. Either quit my job or suck it up and figure out a way to stop pushing his buttons every time I see him.

I was certainly no quitter.

How hard could it be not to taunt him? No one else seemed to struggle with it.

I knew I needed to keep the job as long as I possibly could, but I wasn't going to be yet another whipping post for that overgrown bully. I'd remain true to myself and deal with the consequences as they came along.

That's how I always lived my life. He certainly wasn't going to change that.

With my new plan firmly set in place, I quickly made my way to the front desk, plastering a smile on my face, hoping it didn't look fake. I hated it when people gave out phony smiles.

Why bother if you don't mean it?

There was a girl sitting at the desk that hadn't been there before. Her fingers were absentmindedly twirling around her long, black hair. Everything about her was hot pink, and I do mean everything, nails, lips, clothes, shoes, earrings.

Pepto Bismol instantly came to mind.

"Hi, you must be Bella?" Pep said, with a pink coated smile.

"Guilty," I gave a friendly smirk, "and you are?" I assumed the receptionist, but no one had mentioned her to me.

"Oh silly me, I always forget I'm not famous." She laughed and I cringed. It was ear piercing.

The shrill of her laughter was so high I instantly got a migraine.

"I'm Jessica. Sorry I wasn't here to greet you this morning. I was late." She chomped on a piece of pink bubblegum, "I locked myself in the house again."

My brow furrowed together in confusion. I was still replaying her words in my mind as she continued talking.

"I swear, no matter how many times I explain it to Emmett he just doesn't get it." She let out a long exasperated sigh.

"You were locked inside your house?" I just had to ask. How could I not?

"Yeah, for the second time this month." She held up two fingers. "I moved into a new apartment and just my luck, the deadbolt locks from the inside of the door," she huffed. "I mean…I'm not perfect, sometimes I put my keys down and can't find them in the morning. It happened all the time in my last place, but on those days I just left the door unlocked and took a cab to work. I always found them when I got home."

She snapped her gum a few times and popped a bubble, "Obviously I can't do that if I'm locked in the house."

She pouted, looking like a scolded child. Well, maybe more like a scolded hooker. Her fashion sense was definitely of the street walker variety.

"Hmm, that is quite the dilemma." I tried desperately not to be a wise ass. "Maybe it would help if you left your keys in the lock." I suggested as though it weren't an obvious solution.

She rolled her eyes as though I'd just said the stupidest thing she'd ever heard.

"Well duh, if I had my keys I wouldn't leave them in the lock all day long. I'd use them to get to work silly," and then came that laugh again. I cringed the moment I saw her mouth opening wide.

It was even worse the second time around.

I fought the urge to cover my ears, or her mouth…preferably her mouth….with duct tape. It was that bad. Whoever coined the term 'laughter is the best medicine' clearly never met this chick.

After enduring her horrendously painful fit of laughter for far too long, she suddenly yelped out like a wounded animal.

"Oh Bella, I almost forgot! I temporarily misplaced the phone that Emmett left here for you," she smacked her forehead lightly. "I searched all over for the darn thing. I even tried calling it like I do when I lose mine, but poof! It disappeared." There was baffled look on her face. She held her arms up with her palms laid flat before her and shrugged. "Please don't tell Emmett, I promise I'll find it."

The girl had the voice of Fran Drescher, the style of Peg Bundy, and the intelligence of Homer Simpson. I had a horrible habit of comparing people to fictional characters.

I watched as she played with her hair nervously, awaiting my response.

"Actually, he gave it to me already," I admitted. Her eyes brightened instantly, "I couldn't answer your call since I was busy giving Mr. Cullen his morning massage." I tried not to sound bitchy. It was clear she hadn't fucked my morning up on purpose.

"Oh sweet," she chimed joyfully. "Do you like the ringtone I picked out for you?" Her face was bursting with glee.

I hesitated a few moments, contemplating my answer carefully. "Uh, it certainly was a surprise."

Her smile grew wider. "Did you know Sir Mix-A-Lot's from Seattle? Me and my mom are his biggest fans EVER!" The shrill increased as her voice grew louder, "We're always front row and center whenever he plays here, and let me tell you all eyes are always on us. We have the hottest, matching spandex body suits, pink leopard print."

She spit out her gum in the waste basket and then went into her purse to get a fresh piece.

"I can't even tell you how many times my mom and I got lost in the infectious beat of that song. Of course when I first heard it I was just a little girl, so I didn't understand the depth of the lyrics like I do now."

She brought her long, neon pink nails up to cup her chin, as she sat there smiling wistfully at me.

I didn't even try to stifle my laughter. I knew it would be far too painful. It was no light chuckle either.

Pep had pushed me over the edge.

Once again I found myself huddled over, gasping for air, red faced and teary eyed. It was getting ridiculous. I hadn't even made it to lunch yet. This place was going to be the death of me for sure.

"I see you've met Jessica." Emmett's deep voice caught me off guard.

I did my best to quickly pull myself together, frantically wiping the tears away before I stood to face him.

"Yes," I cleared my throat forcefully. "We were just discussing the complexity of Sir Mix-A-Lot's lyrics in the song 'Baby Got Back.'"

Somehow I managed to keep a straight face while uttering the most ridiculous words ever spoken. Jessica sat there nodding her head in agreement.

His face broke out in a wide grin. Looking away, he slowly shook his head back and forth, before turning back to me dumbfounded. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"Oh trust me…there are no words." I patted him on the back a few times for reassurance.

We both laughed heartily. Jessica tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at each of us. She looked totally perplexed. This made us laugh even harder.

I was still giggling lightly when terror suddenly appeared in Jessica's pink, heavily shadowed eyes.

She was looking directly behind me.

I looked at Emmett; he stiffened immediately, also looking directly behind me. I didn't even need to turn around. I knew who was standing there.

"Mr. Cullen, good morning sir." Emmett's voice sounded as though he were in the military addressing a superior.

There was silence

Though there was absolutely nothing silent about the angry glare I felt burning holes into the back of my head.

"Not really." Mr. Happy snapped at Emmett.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Sir. Is there anything I can do for you?"

My eyes widened slightly at his timid demeanor.

"As a matter of fact there is," the Lion paused. "You can stop standing around giggling with the girls and get to work." The arrogant bastard ordered with a menacing growl.

"Yes, of course, Sir." Emmett replied respectfully, without showing even a hint of annoyance. He looked down at his feet; a wounded frown now replaced the bright smile I had come to know.

I honestly didn't know who disgusted me more, the fat cat for being such an ass or Emmett for taking it from him so readily.

I wasn't even planning to acknowledge his presence...until he uttered, "Miss Swan."

"Yes." I replied coolly, without even bothering to turn and face him.

"Look at me when I speak to you." He commanded harshly, amplifying the already tense atmosphere.

I bit down hard on my lower lip for strength and spun around abruptly.

My eyes shot directly up to his.

This time it was fire on fire.

There was nothing playful about the look I gave him. The heat was palpable. I was every bit as inflamed as he was.

It remained silent as the battle of the eyes raged on. The more his sinister dark green orbs tried to intimidate me, the more my stubborn brown ones stood their ground.

I was far beyond my usual bitch eyes. I was consumed by something much darker than I had ever experienced before.

I just couldn't look away.

It felt like the earth stood still for those few moments. Not in a romantic way of course, it was more like the stillness you feel right before a car crash. You see it coming, but there's nothing you can do to stop it.

He took a step closer to me before speaking.

"You're expected to remain professional at all times," he spoke as though I were a child, "Is that clear?" his chin lowered slightly as he raised an eyebrow up in warning.

I felt my feet move a step closer to him; my hands firmly grasped my hips. I was in what Jasper called my 'Oh no you didn't' stance.

"Actually, that is not clear. Are you insinuating that I have an unprofessional work ethic, Mr. Cullen?" I spat his name out like it was a dirty word.

Shock registered in his eyes, many other emotions flickered around in them as well, there was anger of course, that was always there, but to my surprise I noticed a subtle spark of mischief.

Was he taunting me purposely?

I couldn't be sure, he blinked his eyes and the mischief was gone replaced with sheer rage.

"Well then, let me make this perfectly clear for you." He hissed, each word sounded more threatening than the last, his angry glare intensified, gripping me with force. "I do not consider giggling and flirting your day away like a mindless schoolgirl to be an acceptable work ethic."

His jaw tightened in annoyance, as mine dropped open. I had reached my limit. I couldn't hold back any longer.

"How dare you talk to me like that?" My head bobbed back and forth as the words spewed out. I pointed an angry finger directly at his face and waved it around like a sword, "Who do you think you are?"

He didn't respond right away. I felt an intense urge to scream 'Answer me!', but managed to control it.

"Your boss," he replied dryly after what felt like hours. Then he coolly added, "Though I assure you if this juvenile behavior continues that will no longer be the case." His eyes slowly made their way down my outstretched arm and then flashed back up to meet my raging eyes, his expression dripped with revulsion. "Really, Miss Swan did your parents not teach you how rude it is to point?"

I took a deep breath and released it slowly.

I glanced over at Emmett and Jessica wondering if they were still around. They were. Their faces were covered with concern, looking at me as though I were running along the ledge of a tall building with my eyes closed.

Reluctantly, I lowered my arm. I wanted to tell him that the only thing my parents ever taught me was how to take care of my damn self, but I didn't.

I chuckled obnoxiously instead, and said, "You know Mr. Cullen, I understand that the sound of laughter must be foreign to you, given the fact that you have no sense of humor." I heard Jessica gasp, "I get it, I do, but what I don't get is why you feel the need to bully and belittle your employees."

I paused attempting to form my next words properly. I wanted to know why he was so angry.

"Why are you so angry?" I blurted out, no point in beating around the bush.

I glanced his way and noted that once again he looked as though he wanted to devour me alive. I also noted that once again I relished the feeling of making him that angry.

What the hell was wrong with me? His homicidal reaction seemed to only add fuel to my fire.

"Go on," I hedged. "I know you're going to come back at me with some angry and demeaning remark. Perhaps I deserve it. Perhaps I've spoken out of place, but I certainly didn't deserve to be compared to a mindless school girl." I don't know why, but very softly I mumbled, "I know what you are," under my breath.

"Do you?" he asked without skipping a beat, taking me by complete surprise.

"Do I what?"

"Know what I am."

"Yes." I held my head up high; my heart was beating out of my chest.

He leaned down a bit closer to me. "Then say it." He demanded through clenched teeth.

I pursed my lips tightly together in determination. There was a tiny voice inside my head screaming 'Don't do it Bella! Keep your mouth shut!'

I ignored it of course.

"Say it." He demanded once again, more maliciously than before.

I gritted my teeth. It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. I swallowed hard before speaking.

"Fat Cat," I announced softly, yet with conviction.

I didn't know what I expected to happen next, but his reaction was not it.

His lips turned up into a smirk…a very arrogant smirk. Mischief flickered around in his eyes. This time I was sure of it.

In fact there seemed to be an abundance of it, making his eyes a much lighter shade of green. By far the lightest I had ever seen them.

He placed his hands in his pockets still wearing that same arrogant as hell crooked grin. "And you say this as though it were a bad thing."

I actually started to feel flustered, which pissed me off. I never got flustered. The man was just maddening.

"Grrrr…" I made a growling noise at him.

He may not scare me, but I was really starting to scare myself. I never growled at another person like that before.

Expressionless and completely unfazed by my animalistic reaction, he calmly removed his hands from his pants pockets.

"If you lose this it will be deducted from your pay." He warned coldly, while handing me my Blackberry.

I took the phone; the wallpaper caught my eye once again. This time I recognized Jessica in the group photo, oddly enough she was wearing her pink leopard print bodysuit.

They spent Halloween at a Sir Mix-A-Lot concert?

Somehow just looking at that ridiculous picture calmed me down. Slowly I raised my eyes up to my boss, who was having entirely too much fun at my expense.

I couldn't have that.

I brought a finger up to my chin. "I recall leaving this on the table in the massage room, hardly cause for concern." I oozed sarcasm. "I'm beginning to think you're taunting me on purpose." I folded my arms and then quirked an eyebrow up at him accusingly.

A sly grin appeared on his face as he ran his fingers through his thick bronze hair, using much less force than I'd seen him do before. It had almost the same effect though. His hair was unruly to say the least.

"Hardly," he huffed, his sarcasm matching my own "If I wanted to taunt you," his tongue lightly brushed across his bottom lip, "I would tell you that I know what you are."

And with that he turned and walked away.

It was silent as the three of us watched him go. His long frame moved fluidly, practically gliding down the hall, each step he took exuded not just confidence, but dominance.

One thing was for sure, everyone had a weakness. I wondered what his was.

"What the hell was that about?" Emmett asked the minute our boss was out of sight, a stunned look on his face.

"I know, right." I grumbled. "What a jerk."

"Bella," he started and then hesitated searching for the words. "I've worked here a long time. I've never seen anyone speak to him like that before…ever." He looked awed, "Holy shit woman you've got spunk." He held up his hand to slap me five and then bowed down to me as though I were royalty.

"Well I certainly have more spunk than you." I teased, calling him out on his wussy behavior.

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed. "We can't all be as fearless as you, oh mighty lion slayer."

I chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't go that far. I hardly think I wounded him." Not for a lack of trying, I thought bitterly.

Jessica stood up abruptly. "He's right Bella; you're the bravest person I know. I'm afraid to even breathe when Mr. Cullen comes around." Her hands were on her heart, "I used to hold my breath when he was near me. I had to stop that though, I kept passing out."

I quickly realized I could always count on Jessica for a good laugh, just as long as she didn't laugh along with me.

"Please…he's nothing to be afraid of," I assured her. "He's just a spoiled, egotistical, uptight and angry bully."

"Why don't you tell us how you really feel, Buttercup." Emmett joked while holding back a laugh.

"Buttercup?" my head spun around to face him.

"Yeah, you remind me of Buttercup, my favorite superhero." He shrugged, as though it were no big deal.

"There's a superhero named Buttercup?" I crinkled my face skeptically.

"Yes there is and I'll have you know that she's the most badass of all the Powerpuff Girls." He boasted with complete authority.

"Alrighty, that is just disturbing on so many levels." I shook my head in disgust, but couldn't fight back the smile that crept up on my face.

"Have you ever watched it?" His words were tinged with excitement.

"I am proud to say I have not." I was still smiling despite myself.

"Well then, I say to you, do not speak of what you do not know," he warned knowingly. I was getting concerned by the seriousness of his tone.

"On that note, I'm going to straighten up the massage room." I pointed towards the exit and made a speedy retreat.

I swore I heard Emmett call out something that sounded like 'Girl Power,' but I couldn't be sure.

The rest of the morning I spent observing the various club workers. Emmett told me to become more familiar with what each member of the club staff did whenever possible.

So I took a quick peek in on a yoga class. I had taken yoga classes before so I knew what to expect…or so I thought.

Mike's class was anything but predictable. The first thing that caught my attention was the fact that he was perched up on a platform. He really did have a God complex.

The walls were covered with framed portraits of him in various yoga positions. He gave a whole new meaning to the term self love.

If I hadn't been wearing my obnoxious shoes and a skirt I definitely would have joined in on his class. It actually looked quite interesting and would probably help me to release some tension.

I felt a bit like a stalker creeping around looking in the various classes. If I wasn't dressed like such a yuppie I could have participated. Why I let Angela pick my outfit out was beyond me. I was a massage therapist for crying out loud, not a stuffy executive.

I spent my lunch break with Jessica oddly enough.

Ange had already told me she had a business lunch to attend. Emmett invited me to join the club staff in the cafeteria, but Jessica had gotten to me first.

She said she was a vegetarian and that the cafeteria was nothing but a crime scene. I didn't even ask what the hell she was talking about for fear of another laughter attack.

She insisted on driving and then couldn't remember where she parked her car.

So after roaming around the parking lot for ten minutes we finally took my truck, which I might add is impossible to lose, just another one of its many selling points.

Lunch with Jessica wasn't bad at all. I found if I kept the conversation light she was able to follow along no problem. Though, I could have done without hearing an in depth description of her beloved cow collection.

She had over a hundred of them. Cows in heels, cows in bikinis, a Marilyn Moo-roe cow and the list just went on and on.

After lunch I helped her find her car and then made my way back to the massage room. I had just set my purse down on the table when a strange man appeared in the doorway. Instead of just walking in, he tapped lightly on the frame.

"Knock, knock." He called out in a friendly tone.

"Who's there?" I replied instinctively, a playful smile on my lips.

"Peter."

"Peter who?" I couldn't help myself.

He scratched his head and smiled.

"Uh… Peter the kickboxing instructor from down the hall." He slowly made his way to the center of the room.

He was rugged looking; a real man's man, dirty blonde hair, crystal blue eyes and a five o'clock shadow. His smile was warm and infectious.

"Well, that's not very funny at all." I teased.

"Yeah, I suppose I could work on my delivery a bit." He joked while leaning against the side of the massage table.

We both chuckled. "So you're the new massage therapist I hear."

"Yeah I'm afraid so." I sounded defeated, which disturbed me.

"Sounds like you've already met the Big Kahuna?"

"If you're referring to the angry tyrant that owns this company, then yes I have." I walked over to the massage table and stood opposite of him, "Big Kahuna, that's a new one." I laughed. "How many nicknames does the man have?"

"Let's just say he goes by many names around here and leave it at that." His eyes scanned curiously around the room before settling on the window, "How do you get any work done in here with this view? It's amazing."

I nodded in agreement and then turned my head to look out at the gorgeous meadow that wrapped around us. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky, which was rather uncommon in Seattle.

"Yeah, it's breathtaking. Actually the tranquility of it helps me to stay centered." It was quiet a few moments as each of us appreciated the view. "So…kickboxing huh? I didn't realize the club offered that?" I broke the silence; my eyes were now shamelessly rolling down his chest.

Did I mention he was shirtless?

He wasn't overly muscular, but the strong definition and cut of his physique was eye catching to say the least.

"Yeah, Mr. Cullen's pretty big on martial arts. You should come by and check out a class. Word around town is you're quite the badass." He winked at me while stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

"Jeez! What did Emmett tell you?" I was mortified.

He was just about to respond, but was interrupted….by Sir-Mix-A-Lot.

'I like big butts and I cannot lie'

I dove across the room for my purse and dug out my phone while trying to push away the image of Jessica dancing around in that damn bodysuit.

"Hello?" I gasped, slightly out of breath

"Bella, what on earth are you doing that has you so flustered?" Alice sounded concerned.

"What? I'm not flustered. I just couldn't find my phone." I explained, somewhat defensively. I glanced over at Peter; he mouthed "Nice ringtone" and shook his head in amusement. I rolled my eyes at him sarcastically.

"Well, as long as you're alright. I was just calling to tell you that Mr. Cullen won't be coming down for his afternoon massage."

"Oh really, did he say why?"

"No, but there's a client in his office so I assume he has business to attend to. He just buzzed me and let me know." She sounded apologetic.

"Of course, I'm sure he's very busy. Thanks for letting me know. "

I must have sounded disappointed because Alice whispered into the phone. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's great." I lied, apparently not well.

"Hmm...Don't think I believe you for one second young lady," she scolded. "I expect a full report at the meeting tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"You're coming to our meeting tonight at the Bottleneck. I won't take no for an answer."

"Oh Alice, really, I don't think-"

"Uh-buh-bah…" she cut me off."The first one is mandatory, future meetings will be at your discretion. Be there by six. Do you need directions?"

Damn, she was a pushy little thing.

I was just about to argue and then realized I could actually use a drink...or ten and the bar was walking distance from my apartment.

"No, I know exactly where it is. I'll be there." I relented.

"Good. That's more like it. I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah…yeah...see you later," I grumbled jokingly. I was actually looking forward to seeing her.

As I put my phone away I made a mental note to change that ridiculous ringtone as soon as possible.

"Sorry about that. It was Mr. Cullen's assistant; he's not coming down for his afternoon massage today." I explained while walking back over to the massage table.

"Lucky you." He stood up while stretching his arms high above his head, showing the distinct v of his waistline quite nicely.

I may have drooled a bit…it's been awhile.

As a massage therapist I never gawked at my clients, I was in my zone and completely unaffected by nudity.

But, apparently I had nothing against gawking at guys that weren't my clients. Apparently when I was out of my zone I was a complete pervert.

Who knew? It had been so long since I'd seen a man that wasn't a client without a shirt on.

"I better get going, I just wanted to stop by and say hello." He smiled warmly, "I'll see you around Bella."

He headed for the door.

"It was nice to meet you Peter, take bare…uh care...take care" I fumbled, sounding like a total moron.

My eyes hit the floor. I took a few quick breaths, wishing that the earth would swallow me whole, slowly I raised my eyes, he was still standing there smiling warmly at me.

"So…uh…come visit me sometime, alright? I'd really love to show you some moves, I bet you're a natural." He winked and was out the door before I could reply.

I took a large gulp of air while quickly dabbing around the corners of my mouth checking for residual drool. Thankfully, there wasn't any.

Then I smacked myself across the face…hard.

I was downright shameless, looking at that poor man as though he were nothing but a piece of meat.

As much as I hated to admit it, sometimes I wanted a warm body lying next to me when I fell asleep at night, or someone to ask how my day went as though it were the most important question in the whole world.

I shook away the pesky thoughts as fast as I could.

No good could come of that. Love was not in my cards. Besides, I certainly didn't need a man to complete me.

I refused to be brainwashed into believing in some unrealistic fairytale that society reaped on unsuspecting young girls. There was no Prince Charming coming to whisk me away to his castle.

Even when I was a little girl I was smart enough to question the motives of all of those fairytale Princes.

It still shocked me that not one of my friends would evenconsider the possibility that Prince Charming never really loved Cinderella.

In my opinion it was quite obvious the guy had a raging foot fetish. Why else would he go all over town carrying a woman's shoe around, asking to see all the girls' feet?

Come on!

He spent the whole night dancing with Cinderella. Wouldn't he remember what she looked like? Was the whole shoe thing really necessary? Could it be that he just used Cinderella as an excuse to fondle all the feet he could get his grubby little hands on?

It was just a theory of course, but I strongly felt it held some weight.

After several hours of thumb twiddling, which Tanya was totally right about, not fun at all, I made my way home.

Yikes never greeted me at the door, she couldn't be bothered. It felt so good to take my shoes off. I wiggled my toes around as I wondered if I should invite Ange to come to The Bottleneck with me.

I was still unsure how much of my day I wanted to share with her. I knew she'd feel guilty about how stressed I was over the job. Well, not so much the job as the boss.

A small part of me was actually worried that he hadn't come down for his afternoon massage. Did he plan on firing me? Did I want to quit? Maybe that would be for the best.

Then why did I feel so disappointed at the thought of it?

Alice was right the people there were extremely pleasant, but Mr. Cullen was extremely unpleasant. And so the circle of frustration went round once again.

The man was literally driving me to drink. I could totally understand why the group meetings were held in a bar. Hell I could totally understand why there were group meetings.

After changing into a pair of faded old blue jeans and a vintage Zeppelin t-shirt, passed down to me by my wicked cool hippie grandmother, I headed to the fridge in search of a cold drink.

Just as I popped open a beer and raised it to my eager lips the doorbell rang. I took a nice long swig as I went to answer it. I flung the door open knowing exactly who was waiting there.

"Hello Darlin."

Instantly I was swept up in the warm familiar arms of my best friend.

A/N:

Fun facts: I totally made up Jessica's Marilyn Moo-roe collectible. I could see her with a silly cow figurine of Marilyn. I was curious and googled it and sadly it doesn't exist, but I did find out there is a real cow that goes by that name.

Definition of a Fat Cat: Commonly used to describe a rich, greedy person who, due to ownership of large amounts of capital, is able to "live easy" off the work of others.

That's all for now folks…let me know what you think…it gives me the happyz.