A/N:Psst! Are you in need of an angry tyrant? Well then you've come to the right place my friend. I just happen to have some more Edroar for YOU. As always I'll save my blabbering for later. Meet you at the bottom.

Happymess:What can I say? You are the Pussycat to my Ma….the base to my exponent. Can I get any clearer than that?

*DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight…I'm just a girl with a new baby nephew. YAY! I'm an aunt guys!

Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

- Albus Dumbledore

The mood shifted from jovial to tense in an instant. The playful smile that was spread across the nurse's face quickly vanished. I watched as she looked down at her shoes rather intently.

"You're dismissed." The voice from behind me commanded. The nurse scurried off, her head hung low like a scolded puppy.

My god that tone…it sounded familiar.

Did she just call him Dr. Cullen?

I spun around to face the voice, not quite sure what to expect. I blinked a few times as I took him in. He was quite tall, in both stature and presence.

He had sleek blond hair and wore a long, white lab coat with a crisp blue shirt and tie beneath it.

I was never very good at judging peoples' ages, but he looked to be in his mid to late fifties.

He was handsome in all the classic ways. Some would say dashing, much like a movie star or perhaps a doctor you might find on a television show.

Yet, there was something unsettling about him. The jaw, the lips, his stance, it all looked a bit familiar to me. Curiously, I looked up into his eyes.

They were empty. Not haunted or angry or even annoyed, they were just completely void.

He flipped through the pages of the file he held in his hands and after several moments he looked at Jasper.

"Mr. Whitlock, follow me." He instructed coolly, then turned and walked away from us.

Jazz looked at me before following the doctor down the hall. "Go on out to the waiting room, I won't be long."

That made perfect sense, yet for some strange reason I didn't do that. Instead I shook my head and followed the doctor down the hall towards the exam room.

Jasper's startled voice called "Bella?" to my moving back.

I kept walking.

I entered the exam room and watched as the doctor placed the file down on the counter.

"Excuse me?" I called out to get his attention. He looked up, appearing mildly interested.

I quickly understood why the nurse had been so intimidated by this man. He certainly didn't give off a friendly vibe, though he didn't seem hostile either. He appeared emotionless actually, almost robotic.

I cleared my throat while he waited for me to speak. "Did the nurse say your name was Dr. Cullen?"

For some reason I just had to know.

"Yes." He replied dryly, still seeming completely uninterested in speaking with me.

Before I could respond Jazz was by my side. "Bella, what are you doing? Is it your wrist?" His face was covered with concern.

"Um…no." I admitted apprehensively. "It's just that Dr. Cullen seems familiar to me." I looked over to the doctor. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Edward Cullen of Cullen Publishing, would you?"

My face scrunched up as I asked him this question, as though it pained me to do so. Honestly, why I cared to know was beyond me.

Well, actually it wasn't. I was a snoop, plain and simple. Who was I kidding?

He didn't respond immediately, though he suddenly seemed much more interested in our conversation.

He took a few steps closer to me.

"Why would you want to know that?" His face remained expressionless, though I could sense his budding curiosity.

"Well, I work at Cullen Publishing," I started. "You sort of remind me of my boss and you have the same last name." I shrugged my shoulders impassively.

It really wasn't a big deal.

Though apparently it was, because a near palpable intensity filled the room, there was no mistaking it, even Jasper noticed, because instinctively he stepped closer to me.

After several moments of silence the doctor opened his mouth to speak.

"Edward is my son." He spat the words out, leaving them in the air to linger.

He turned away from us and began prepping for Jasper's stitches. My mind immediately filled with all sorts of nosey questions that were absolutely none of my business. I asked him a question. He answered it. End of story. Right?

Clearly, he had no intention of elaborating any further and I suppose when you think about it, what more should he say?

Did I expect him to start telling me stories of Edroar's youth? Not really. Yet I couldn't shake the harshness of his simple response. Didn't parents normally enjoy talking about their children? I mean, I knew mine didn't, but again I said normally.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't even notice that Jasper had moved over to the exam table. A nurse appeared in the doorway.

"Dr. Cullen, do you need assistance?" She smiled warmly at each of us.

"No." He replied, without even looking up.

She nodded her head and vanished quickly. I got the feeling that Doctor Cullen was about as popular around the hospital as his son was over at Cullen Publishing.

I wondered what sort of nickname they had picked out for him. I actually contemplated this for awhile. When I finally popped out of my bubble, Jazz was busy explaining what happened to his forehead.

"A shoe." The doctor nodded his head attentively as Jasper spoke. "You must beware of a woman scorned Mr. Whitlock," he sounded dead serious. "Though, it seems you've learned that lesson the hard way."

His voice remained stiff, completely void of emotion. It was peculiar to say the least, a bit creepy to be honest.

However, he did put forth the effort to make small talk with Jasper, probably to distract him from the fact that he was stitching up his gaping wound.

His very bloody, gaping wound.

I let out a small gag and then quickly recognized I needed to keep my eyes away from what was happening on the other side of the room, which really pissed me off because I wanted to prove I wasn't squeamish.

Disgruntled, I kept my eyes to the floor, though my ears were carefully tuned in to their conversation.

"Nah, I don't even know the girl. It was a freak accident."

"Pfft," I snickered to myself. Freak accident.

How appropriate.

I made a mental note to find out exactly how the freak caused the accident. Now that the shock of it had worn off I fully intended to ask Jessica.

"Hmm," there was a brief pause. "This may leave a scar, but I'll do my best to camouflage it."

I heard various indecipherable sounds. Perhaps instruments being placed on a table. I fought the urge to peek.

"Eh…that's alraht. Real men have scars." I could hear the smile in Jasper's voice.

He certainly wasn't vain by any means. I could only imagine what Mike's reaction would be if a doctor ever told him he may have a permanent scar on his precious face.

Hell, if it had been Mike that was at the receiving end of the Bloody Shoe of Destruction, Jessica would need to be on a plane creating a new identity right about now.

"That they do." The doctor agreed solemnly with Jasper's statement.

Edroar's father didn't seem angry like his hot headed son, but he did have a similar demeanor.

The 'Get the hell away from me' demeanor.

Apparently, sane people felt threatened by this and scurried away. Not me. It had the opposite effect. It intrigued me. Made me want to dig beneath the surface and find what lurked beneath.

Obviously, it was none of my business and I certainly wasn't about to harass the man, so I kept my mouth shut and continued staring down at the floor. No words were spoken for quite some time and I was getting pretty antsy. Just as I opened my purse in search of entertainment, Jasper broke the silence.

"Hey, doc? When you're finished would you take a look at Bella's wrist? She fell and hurt it."

Before the doctor could even respond I broke in.

"Uh, Jazz it's feeling much better now."

"Just let him look at it Bella," he insisted in his firmest voice.

I knew he wasn't going to let it go. I took a deep breath before making my confession.

"I lied."

"What?"

"I lied." I repeated with a small gulp. Slowly, I looked up to meet two sets of widened eyes.

I threw my hands up in the air. "I knew you wouldn't come to the hospital with me unless I told you I was hurt. You gave me no choice." I huffed defensively.

If he wasn't so damn stubborn I wouldn't have had to bullshit him. I was somewhat irritated with him for making me lie in the first place. In my opinion it was all his fault. I quickly came up with that theory and decided I really liked it.

Jazz shook his head in annoyance. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that Swan."

"Yeah..yeah. I'm scared." I teased back.

We shot eye darts at one another and after a few intense moments we broke out into playful smirks. We knew each other so well that we had most of our arguments without actually using words.

It was already forgotten. That's what I loved about my best friend, he wasn't overly dramatic. I quickly averted my eyes when I noticed Dr. Cullen reach for the needle. It wasn't long before I heard the doctor's voice giving instructions on how to care for the wound properly. Jazz thanked him and we were off.

We walked down the hall leaving the enigma that was Edward Cullen's father behind us, hurriedly making our way to the nurses' station so Jasper could sign the release forms.

The pretty, redheaded nurse we found sitting there giggled needlessly at anything and everything Jasper said to her. It was quite entertaining.

I watched as he charmed the girl to pieces. He wasn't even trying. I swear, it was a sight to see. It only took a few minutes before the innuendos had gotten way too cheesy for me to handle any longer.

I felt the urge to gag and it had nothing to do with the bloody patients surrounding me.

"I'll meet you in the waiting room Jazzanova," I said with a wink. "I want to make sure the gang is behaving themselves."

I just about made it to the double doors that led to the waiting room when I heard a strong male voice behind me.

"Excuse me, Bella is it?"

I spun around to find a very statuesque Dr. Cullen looking down at me.

"Yes."

"Might I talk to you for a moment…in private?"

"Sure?" I replied sounding as though it were a question, which it kind of was. What did he want to speak with me about…in private?

He motioned for me to follow him. We walked down a long hall and around a few corners until we came to his office. He opened the door and ushered me in.

All the while my mind raced with possible scenarios of what on earth he wanted to say to me.

"Please, have a seat." He motioned to the chair before his desk.

I sat down and of course instantly scanned his office for photos and other personal objects.

Nothing.

It was as though it was his first day on the job…or his last. I mean there were various degrees and certificates on the walls, but not one photo, not a single memento. I did learn his first name was Carlisle.

How regal.

"Now then, Miss…?" He looked at me expectantly.

"Swan," I replied cautiously. "But I much prefer Bella."

"Very well, Bella." He sat down, leaning back in his chair a bit as he did so. "May I ask how well you know my son?"

"Not very well at all, today was my first day on the job." I answered respectfully.

"I see. Are you an author?" He hedged, clearly trying to feel me out.

He was a much more subtle man than his son. However, I must admit I was not a fan of beating around the bush. I never understood the point of it, probably why I was so horrible at small talk.

"No, I'm a massage therapist." I crossed my legs, instantly noticing the blood spots that decorated my favorite jeans.

"Mmm. Interesting, Edward has a personal massage therapist." He noted, as though this held some deep meaning to him.

"He's never mentioned that to you?" I was genuinely curious. From what I understood Mr. Cullen was militant about his massages. Wouldn't a father know that type of thing?

"No," he replied curtly. "Could I ask you a favor?" He sat up, stiff as a board, his void eyes focused directly on mine.

"Uh…what kind of favor?" I learned never to blindly answer yes to a loaded question such as that.

"I'd like you to deliver a message to my son for me. Would you do that?" His tone was calm, cool and slightly robotic. His face was a blank slate.

"I don't understand. Why would you need me to give your son a message?" Surely the man could at least tell me that much.

He didn't respond. Instead he scribbled away on a notepad, then neatly folded the paper and placed it in an envelope, which he then sealed.

He extended his hand out to me.

I found myself reaching out and taking the envelope from him even though I hadn't actually agreed to deliver the message.

"That will have to do for now." He stated cryptically.

He stood and made his way across the room, opened the door and then looked down at me expectantly.

"I won't keep you any further." His lifeless eyes quickly darted away from mine, settling out into the hall.

And just like that I was dismissed.

I probably should have been pissed by the way he was acting. Normally I would have told him to shove his message up his ass for dismissing me so coldly, but there was something about the man that told me he wasn't intentionally being disrespectful.

There was something about Dr. Carlisle Cullen I recognized in that moment.

It took me a little while to place it, but once I did I couldn't believe I of all people hadn't realized it sooner.

He was uncomfortably numb.

Now the question quickly became why? As I shuffled down the hall I found myself feeling unsettled. I looked down at the envelope I held in my hands.

What did he write?

Why didn't he just mail it or email it or better yet call or even text his son for crying out loud? The need to ask someone to deliver a handwritten message by foot no longer existed...or so I thought.

I mean, what if he hadn't met me? How important could the message really be if he hadn't tried to get it to him sooner? Or perhaps he had. Damn! My nosey mind was in overdrive.

My gut was telling me there was a reason Dr. Cullen was uncomfortably numb. If so, did that mean there was a reason Edroar was an angry tyrant?

I placed the envelope carefully in my purse.

Out of sight out of mind, I thought as I closed my pocketbook. I couldn't allow myself to obsess over the contents of that envelope any longer. Besides, how personal could the message be if he trusted a complete stranger to deliver it?

I pushed open the double doors and made it about halfway down the hall before I was abruptly whisked away.

I barely got out a "What the..." before I saw the body of the tiny tsunami leading the way.

"Come on Bella, we need you!"

"That's it. I'm buying mace." I grumbled as we flew down the hall.

She dragged me into a crowded waiting room. Though, the people there were doing much more than waiting. I struggled to figure exactly what it was they were doing. Finally I gave up and looked at Alice totally perplexed.

"Charades…ER edition." She said as though that would make any freaking sense to me at all.

"Come again?"

She let out a tiny giggle and looked up at me as though I were a complete moron. "You've never played charades before?"

I felt my eyebrows tighten. "No…I mean, yes, of course I've played charades before." I rolled my eyes around obnoxiously. "When I was a child." She couldn't be serious.

"Oh good, so you'll pick it up quickly then. The general rules remain the same. Though based on the edition we do make some allowances."

Damn, she was serious.

"Edition?"

Her head nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, we always play the game based on our circumstances." She waved her hand around the room. "Tonight we're in an Emergency room so all the secret words must be related to a hospital in some way." She threw me a sweet smile. "It's really quite fun, I promise you."

I looked around and noticed the people were actually divided into two teams.

On the left side of the room there was Mike, Emmett, a frail looking elderly woman, an inked up biker dude and a stuffy looking businessman.

Interesting mix.

I could tell by the way Mike was barking out orders to them that he was their leader. God help them. They seemed to be in a bit of turmoil.

I glanced over to the other team which consisted of Jessica, Rose, a cute freckle faced little boy, and a guy wearing hockey gear, he was massive.

"You can be on my team and Jasper can be on Mike's."Alice offered in a whisper voice. "Oh, unless you think he's still holding a grudge against Mike for thinking he was a homeless man?" She brought her finger to her chin in contemplation. "But then again Mike didn't gauge his face out the way Jessica did."

She scrunched up her nose as she continued to weigh the pros and cons of which team Jasper should be on.

I was just about to tell her there was no way in hell Jasper would be up for party games, especially with them, when he appeared in the doorway.

Just like me he struggled to take in the situation before him and just like me he failed to do so. He scanned the room a few times before giving me the same perplexed look I had given Alice.

"Charades…ER edition." I explained with a chuckle.

"Right. Of course." He shook his head incredulously.

Alice walked straight over to Jasper and gave him a warm smile.

"How's your head?" She asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

I hadn't known her long, but it was clear that Alice Brandon was no phony. I really liked that about her.

"Ah…It's been better, but I'll survive." Jazz said through a lazy smile, scratching the back of his neck. He always did that when he was uncomfortable.

"Well, that's good to hear because we need you to even out our teams." She was still smiling up at him warmly.

"Nah, I'm not feeling up to playing games tonight."

Yep, knew he'd say that.

Alice frowned at his response. "Well, how about if you're exempt from acting? Just play one round with us. I bet you'll make a wonderful guesser." She praised. "And you really need to stay alert after a blow to the head like that."

Her tone was soft and endearing, not at all spastic or pushy the way she usually sounded whenever she spoke to me.

"Come on, you can be on my team." She offered slyly, and then whispered, "We're totally kicking ass."

I almost cackled out loud at hearing the word ass come out of sweet little Alice's mouth. Jazz too, I saw him stifle a chuckle.

After a few moments of contemplation he slowly nodded his head in agreement and was promptly led over to Alice's team.

What the hell?

My eyes widened a bit in disbelief. That tiny tsunami had just charmed the great charmer himself. I never thought I'd live to see the day.

One round turned to three and before I knew it I was captain of my team and in a heated debate with Mike over strategy.

It was a hostile takeover. I convinced my teammates to vote him out of the captain position.

We were getting our asses kicked badly and I had to act fast. I hated losing…at anything.

Sometime during round two there was a pizza delivery. It wasn't long before we generated a small audience and not long after that we were kindly asked to vacate the premises if we were no longer in need of treatment.

The nerve!

I was right in the middle of acting out a heart attack for Christ's sake.

My team lost, but not by very much. Damn that ten year old charades prodigy...Tommy. If it wasn't for him, we would have clobbered them.

Somehow, Alice managed to get Jasper totally wrapped up in the game. He was highly competitive like me, so I knew he wanted to win, but I couldn't help but notice he was actually having a good time.

He was laughing so hard he had trouble catching his breath. I hadn't seen him laugh like that with anyone other than me in…well, ever, really.

It made me smile.

It was pretty late when I got home that night. Ange was already asleep. I sent her a text from the ER to let her know everything was alright. I made a decision not to complain to her about Mr. Cullen's rude behavior.

What purpose would that really serve other than to upset the girl? There was nothing she could do about it and to be honest the man was my boss not my friend, he was just the means to an end for me.

I needed to accept the fact that I worked for an insufferable tyrant and just move on already.

It certainly wasn't ideal, but after some contemplation I discovered overall the pros of working at Cullen Publishing outweighed the cons and until that changed I was going to work hard at being the best employee I could be.

Like Alice said, he was just one man among many. I needed to find common ground with him. He had to have a rational side. How else could he be a successful businessman?

As I drifted off to sleep that night I vowed to find that part of him however small it may be.

I had an early breakfast with Angela the next morning in the company cafeteria, though it seemed more like a posh eatery if you asked me.

She looked stunned when I told her I liked my job.

I tried not to lay it on too thick. I talked mostly about the club staff and how fun they were. I kept cracking up hysterically while talking about Jessica. I almost snorted milk through my nose when I got to the part about her locking herself in the house.

Seriously who does that?

"So what about Mr. Cullen?" She asked, nervously. Apparently she was finished listening to my rainbows and unicorns account of my first day.

"What about him?" I replied while chomping on my bagel.

"Well...uh," she fidgeted a bit with her napkin. "What do you think of him?"

"Oh. Umm..." I wiped my mouth of all the gooey butter that coated my lips. "Well, he's a fat cat that's for sure. But nothing I can't handle." I shrugged my shoulders and watched as her face lit up.

She let out a sigh of relief. "I should have known he wouldn't scare you, Bella. I don't know what I was so worried about."

"You worry too much Ange. Life's too short for that." I'd told her this so many times.

I hated to see her worry. I definitely didn't want to add my name to the long list of things that she freaked out about on a daily basis.

Besides, it was the truth. I could handle the fat cat. I certainly wasn't worried about that, but could I handle him without getting myself fired? Well, now that remained to be seen.

It was eight o'clock on the dot when the lion entered my den.

He looked subdued.

"Morning." I said cordially, intentionally dropping the 'good' assuming all of his mornings were horribly bad.

"Ms. Swan," he replied in a velvety smooth voice.

Odd.

Not that I knew what I was expecting…as usual, but his calm cool demeanor surprised me. It was an instinct for me to look directly into his eyes. I knew they'd tell me everything I needed to know. I wanted to get a better read on him.

The deep seeded anger and scorching intensity was there as always, but this time I spotted flecks of sadness as well. I wondered why. What would make someone like him feel sad?

Not my business.

"I had breakfast this morning…in the cafeteria." I blurted out of nowhere.

Like he really cared.

I was totally incapable of small talk. What a horrible disability to have. There really should be some sort of telethon for the affliction. It was a silent killer, because I was seriously about to die of embarrassment.

He hesitated a few moments, quietly waiting for me to get to the point of my random statement. There wasn't one, of course, other than the mind blowing fact that I ate breakfast.

Spread the word!

Sadly, it was my pitiful attempt to find his rational side. What the hell was I thinking? Clearly I wasn't, because I was about to make a complete fool of myself.

I couldn't have that.

So I abruptly spun around and headed for the door to save myself the humiliation, fully aware that I now looked totally unstable.

In my defense, I knew it would only get worse the harder I tried to patch it up. It was best to abort my mission and configure a new approach at a later time.

I glanced back at him before opening the door.

"I had breakfast this morning…in my office." He smirked at me, devilishly.

I was frozen in place, as if his words had just zapped me with some sort of magic laser beam.

There was silence for several moments, it felt intense, but it wasn't hostile. I didn't know exactly what it was. Our eyes were locked together. I knew that much.

"Bagel…with extra butter." I babbled moronically, as I stood there holding his gaze.

He contemplated my words for a few moments, soaking in my profound declaration.

"Cockles….with laverbread." He countered, his eyes brightened considerably.

My nose scrunched in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Have you never had cockles, Ms. Swan?" His brow rose curiously.

I smirked wickedly."Wouldn't you like to know?"

Was this actually working? Had we really found common ground with bagels and cockles? I had no clue what the hell those were, but apparently they loosened him up so they were a good thing.

As though he'd heard my thoughts he suddenly stiffened and broke our eye contact off. It felt like a Band-Aid being ripped from my skin.

He turned his face away from mine and when he turned back I knew I was staring into the face of a lion.

"I believe we're through discussing breakfast choices." He said dryly.

The image of his robotic father came to mind. I pushed it aside. It would be more professional to make an appointment with him to discuss the letter, rather than to bring it up during his scheduled massage time.

"Of course." I nodded my head slowly, still a bit confused as to what had just taken place.

I quickly excused myself. When I returned I dimmed the lights before making my way over to the table.

He was lying flat on his stomach with his arms resting at his sides, eyes shut. This time I went directly to work. No gawking. No matter how peaceful he looked when he closed those tumultuous eyes of his.

The drastic change fascinated me.

He was tense. Very tense. Even more so than his last massage. I heated up his skin with my palms and then kneaded deep into the muscle.

My fingers slid over his smooth skin like a paintbrush on a canvas. I pinched, rolled and squeezed my way up and down his back, then all over his arms, neck and legs.

It wasn't long before I was in my zone and he was in his. The sounds of his deep breathing filled the air.

His light snores were actually the only sound in the room. Thankfully, this time it would remain that way since I made absolute sure that god forsaken phone of mine was turned off.

I heard a few soft groans and my eyes shot directly to his face, worried that I somehow hurt him, but he was still fast asleep. His mouth hung slightly open, his ruby red lips formed a distinct O shape. I watched as his eyes moved around beneath his lids.

Once again I found myself wondering what on earth someone like Edward Cullen dreamt about.

I spent extra time catering to his body's needs. It always pained me to feel such pressure beneath my fingertips. I found it quite therapeutic to help my clients release their tension.

It felt good to set free all that stagnate energy. I tried my best to revitalize it and balance out the body.

Once I was satisfied with my work I realized it was time to wake the sleeping beast. I certainly didn't want to startle him. I learned that lesson the hard way.

I gently tapped on his shoulder and whispered softly in his ear. "Mr. Cullen, our session is over."

Nothing.

I tried again this time tapping a bit harder and raising my voice slightly, but he still didn't flinch.

Hmmm…how strange. That had always worked for me in the past. Of course he would have to be the exception.

He did look kind of tired when he came in, exhausted really, the more I thought about it. I contemplated letting him just sleep as long as he needed, but then realized he probably had important meetings to attend.

I thought about calling Alice to find out, but realized that wouldn't be right. Waking him up was part of my job…but how?

The last time he woke up only after I let out a blood curdling scream as 'Baby Got Back' blasted in the background. Surely there had to be a better way.

I looked around the room for inspiration.

I was continuously tapping him on the shoulder like a bratty child and raising my voice in small increments as my eyes scanned the room.

Nothing

It was crazy. All I wanted to do was wake him up without having to scream or do something to startle him.

Perhaps cockles weren't a breakfast food after all…maybe they're a narcotic.

Could Edroar have a drug problem? It would certainly explain the mood swings. Just as I was about to give up and shout directly into his ear my eyes landed on a small spray bottle sitting on the cabinet across the room.

I continued tapping as I stared at it. My eyes focused on that one object. He still had yet to flinch. The man had somehow slipped into a coma.

I was totally Googling cockles. It was probably some new yuppie drug for rich people.

I stomped over to the cabinet making as much noise as humanly possible. I grabbed the bottle giving it a quick trial spray, waving my hand around in the air as I did so.

Water

Oh... and it was a cool mist….light... pleasant…refreshing.

Perfect! It would gently cool his body down, waking him peacefully, without startling him.

I was smirking to myself for being such a genius as I headed back over to the massage table.

Then it hit me.

What the hell did I think the spray bottle was doing there to begin with? The last massage therapist already figured it out. I bet the last massage therapist was probably sick of his cockle induced comas and quit.

Whatever, I was just relieved I caught on before humiliating myself by standing there screaming at him. How unprofessional would that be? This was a wonderful way to end his massage as well as the perfect way to wake him up.

It was a win win. I didn't care who thought of it.

I stepped several feet away and began spritzing him. It was such a fine mist I worried that it might not work. I sprayed my way up and down his back and he still hadn't flinched.

Jesus! How did he not feel that?

I continued to spritz his arms and then the back of his neck.

His arm twitched slightly.

Oh thank God.

I tapped his shoulder and softly said. "Mr. Cullen, our session is over."

Nothing.

He was just maddening. Without even thinking about it I spritzed his face. It wasn't at close range or anything and it was just water. His face was covered with a cool burst of refreshing mist.

He wrinkled his nose a bit and then licked his lips.

He made a peculiar face and his eyes popped open.

I smiled smugly at my victory.

Rise and shine cocklehead.

His eyes clenched shut and his face distorted into a painful looking wince.

"Ow! FUCK!" He groaned. "What the hell did you just spray on me?" He was wiping his face frantically.

I rolled my eyes. What a freaking baby.

"It's just water." I said holding back a laugh. "See." I swung the bottle back and forth in front of his face.

Jeez! Wasn't he used to this by now?

He sat up wiping his eyes and blinking furiously. "That is NOT water!" He growled.

"Yes, it is." I snapped back at him. What the hell was he talking about?

I sprayed my hand again, watching the clear liquid land on my skin. I sniffed my fingers, there was no scent.

He must be tripping.

He jumped up and nearly knocked me over as he darted to the sink. He began flushing his eyes out, groaning as he did so.

I raised my hand to my face again, shaking my head in disbelief at his dramatics. Then very lightly I ran my tongue across my fingertips.

BLECH!

The foulest most god awful taste that ever existed assaulted my mouth. It. Was. Vile. I gasped and gagged and coughed and spit. I would have gladly chopped my tongue off just to get that wretched taste out of my mouth.

Holy shit! That's NOT water!

I dropped the bottle the instant I made the realization. It hit the floor with a loud thud.

Oh God! Not good Bella. I felt myself begin to panic.

Did I seriously just poison my boss?

Who does that?

A/N: What the hell is in that bottle? What's in the letter? What's a freaking cockle? And most importantly…is Edroar standing naked at the sink? Things that make you go hmm…

Fun Fact: A mist of alcohol or water sprayed over the back, neck, and face is very refreshing. You can even add a few drops of essential oil to the water for additional benefit.

Uncomfortably Numb:Incapable of feeling emotion; enervated; prostrate: numb with grief to the point of discomfort. Not to be confused with "Comfortably Numb" which is a kickass Pink Floyd song.

Need More: My super human, practically perfect in every way beta Happymess, created a kickass blog for me. I'm so excited! It's got loads of info on there and other really cool bloggy type stuff. I'll be posting teasers too, as soon as I can figure how to do so. The link is on my profile so please check it out.

Special hugs to Cara2lalala for making a gorgeous depiction of the massage room. You can find it on my profile.

Jazz is thrilled with all the lovin he got from chapter 4. He said to make sure I throw some darlins your way. Edroar of course is quite unhappy about sharing his readers with that southern charmer. He's SO darn possessive.

Blame game: I totally Blame Dr. Carlisle Cullen for the delay in this chapter. He was being quite the difficult character.

That's all for now folks. Let me know what you think…it soothes my aching soul.