(A/N): Thanks for the favorites and reviews the last update/ prologue. This is just the beginning, so the chapters will get much, much longer... no need to fret! (; Again, big thanks... and remember to read and review!!!
Disclaimer- Much to my grave disappointment and dismay, Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. ):
See you on the flip side!!!
"Isabella Swan, please report to Mr. J. Cullen's office. I repeat, Isabella Swan, please report to Mr. J. Cullen's office immediately," the loudspeakers announced. They had certain fuzz to them, the speakers. It wasn't your normal speaker buzz that most intercoms had, like the radio with bad reception, but more like flies skittering about near the single microphone at the front of the office building.
I worked in a famous writer's district, at the world renowned Cullen & Friends Co., owned by the famous Jasper Cullen. Originally the company had been owned by Carlisle Cullen, famous billionaire father of Jasper Cullen, but he had passed the family company over to his son. Jasper had fully refurbished the whole area, including the surrounding landscapes. He couldn't have done everything himself, of course, so his mother, Esme Cullen, worked to design the building. I was one of the few people in this company that knew of Jasper's lack of participation, but kept the secret. In fact, I was the only worker that knew.
The Cullen & Friends Co. building was done in a modern fashion, with either glass or stainless steel walls. Modern looking plants scattered the rooms, and everything was done is white leather. Although it seemed too modern to feel like home for some, it was the exact opposite for me. My own apartment came second next to this publishing company, which had employees who had been there for one another throughout the toughest of times.
Stepping onto the shining marbled floor, I made careful not to trip in the newly cleaned areas. My black pumps wouldn't have been harmed, but I was more than likely to trip, even over such a flat surface. I had to rush up to Jasper's office, but I finally came into eyesight of his tinted glass door, and felt a rush of comfort when my heels hit the carpeted floor.
"Isabella!" Jasper said with genuine happiness. "How have you been, love?" Oh, have I mentioned that Jasper also has a thing for me; a very large thing, at that?
"Wonderful! You look very handsome, if I do say so myself," I smiled up at his excited expression.
"Why, thank you! I was wondering…" he continued apprehensively, "if you would be my date for the Mayor's Ball? In three days?" Wow, that was a question I sure wasn't expecting. I mean, I know that Jasper has taken akin to my working here, but to ask me out on a date? That is a whole other level of liking. It isn't as if I wasn't fond of him, I just didn't expect it. What kind of woman would I be though, if I were to turn down a lovely gentleman like Jasper Cullen? Not a very kind woman; not the kind of woman I had built myself up to be. So, like any other woman that has gotten to experience the wonder that is Jasper, I was charmed and said yes. What else could I have done?
After I agreed to escort him as his date, I left to finish my work. As Jasper's assistant and secretary, I dealt with all of the calls pertaining to Jasper, and forwarded them on to himself, or took note of those who had been planning on scheduling a meeting, or choosing our company for their publishers. The soon-to-be-authors handed their manuscripts to me, to which I gave to the three editors and approvers. If the first approver liked the book, it would be sent on to the second approver, who would check for grammar errors, and other editing errors. If the second approval employee liked the book, it was sent on to the third, which would send it in for Jasper to make the final and most important approval. Not many manuscripts made it past the second approver, who just happened to be a woman with the likeliness of an angered lion. I wasn't even sure why Jasper had kept her around, but he claimed that his father had employed her when he owned the company, and he quite enjoyed her company. The third reviewer, Angela Webber, was kind, gentle, and a book lover. She was the hardest of the three to get your book passed to Jasper, but whenever she agreed that the book was good enough, it always meant it was a great story. Jasper always took hers and mine opinions seriously, saying that we were his best employees yet.
Soon enough my shift was done and I helped Jasper lock up the building for the night. Standing by the bus stop, I held my purse tight within the confines of my arms as I teetered on my heels; tonight had been a long night. I looked up into the skies, only to see an airplane shoot overhead, high above in the downtown New York City skies. I knew that I shouldn't have looked up as soon as I heard the giant mass transportation in the clouds, but it couldn't be helped. Unwillingly, my mind shifted to the first time I had ever ridden in a plane.
"Mommy, I'm scared…" I heard a frightened young child quiver. There, sitting two rows ahead of me was the little girl shaking violently into her mother's sweater clad side. It was heart wrenching, but I could not focus on her own discomfort, I had to think of my own… or rather, not think of it. Damn, Bella! You've been on a plane before, why should this time be any different? You are sixteen years old, and it's not even that long of a flight. We probably only have about two hours left of sitting here in these cramped seats. I reassured myself. Yes, only a couple more hours until we land from this hell on earth.
Trying to comfort my shaking cold body, I leaned my head against the window, forgetting about how even more cold the window was than the seat. Just then, the flight attendant came around to check on how everyone was doing. Politely, I requested a blanket and a pillow, suddenly feeling tired. As if being warm and closing my eyes could help me get over my nervousness, I silently thanked her and lay down on the squished seat, closing my eyes.
A sudden rock jerked my eyes open, nearly causing my head to crash into the cold glass window.
"Sorry, folks; we are experiencing some wind turbulence, but it should be cleared within the time span of two hours. We will be making a detour around the storm, so we should arrive in New York within four and a half hours. Meanwhile, sit back and buckle up for safety purposes." The flight attendant who gave me my pillow announced on the intercoms. The small child from earlier began to wail on her mother's shoulder, what I could only assume as her fatherly figure's arm wrapped around the two shaken up females. The whole car which, just moments ago, had been filled with the quiet chatter of voices, was now completely silent. It was as if the shock and nervousness was palpable in the small spaces between us, and we were too unnerved to utter a single word. Then, just as things seemed to quiet down, a large jerk flowed through the plane and the clatter of a single baby rattle rang through the car. It was so eerily silent that when a man shifted in his squeaky leather seat and change fell quietly onto the hard floor, several people jumped and whipped their heads towards the noise.
Meanwhile, the jerking and thrashing of the plane continued, and a small ringing began deep within my earlobes. Why the hell did I choose to fly at nighttime?! Oh, that's right… mother didn't want to pick me up so early in the morning. Damn her, now I'm stuck on the hellhole of a plane, which is so quiet that I feel as though I am going mad! Talking to myself… this isn't normal! This isn't what normal people do! I have been mute for well over the six hours of the flight, and with all of the quieted voices around me, I feel like I am screaming inside my own head! I practically screamed within my head. All was still silent around me, and the pressure kept increasing in my ears. My neck began to strain for air; the plane was beginning to feel like it was hurtling towards the earthen grounds, and just before hitting them it was pulled thousands of feet back up into the air. I knew that if the rest of the flight continued like this, I would be well over my two breathing/puking bag limit.
I shook my head, still insistent on clearing my pressure-induced earlobes, but with no such luck. I began opening and closing my jaw, willing my ears to pop… but still had the same outcome. The plane began jerking impossible more violently, and as if a switch had been turned on, the hushed chatter of surrounding people began once again. Slowly, the plane began flying in the direction of our destination, and the rocking was stilled.
It couldn't have been over an hour before the rocking was resumed, scaring the rest of the passengers, as well as myself. What was a great disturbance, though, was not the jerking and rocking of the plane itself, but that single girl's reaction every time the plane would move abnormally. It reminded me much of myself when I would curl up in my mother's arms during a plane ride, and snuggle with my father when the occasional times the plane would rocks slightly. I saw my own self inside that instinctive young girl, and it frightened me to know end. I didn't want to be reminded of my horrid past, or how my father had abruptly changed the day his mother, my grandmother, passed away. I began to cry, but without the satisfaction of long, large tears coming out of my tear ducts, and wails dripping from my lips. My crying held no further indication that I was letting go of the grief, but rather reliving it. I shouldn't cry, but I couldn't find it within myself to care enough to stop.
I fought back into reality, trying desperately to cling onto what control I had left over the tears that I held locked away. They wouldn't come out now… no, I wouldn't allow it. But what little will I had left in myself to keep them under lock and key left, and I dropped to my knees, falling on the cold, wet pavement beneath me. I sobbed and shook worthlessly, feeling as though what happened was my fault; like I could have done something to stop it from happening. I knew, deep down inside, that I couldn't have done anything to keep the future from turning, but I still blamed myself, for it was the easiest way out. The grief that should have been there for the experience was so easily blamed and put onto my shoulders. Whose fault was it? Mine. Who could have stopped it if they tried with all of their might? Me. Who could have used their knowledge to keep it from occurring? Me… me, me, me; it was the easiest thing to do… blaming myself.
Being so caught up in letting the grief of seeing that little plane release me from its grasp, if only for just a moment, I didn't notice the presence behind my shaking body.
"Miss…" no reaction came from me. "Miss, are you alright? Is something wrong?" the kind stranger asked. I didn't know what it was, but I felt pulled to him, like we were a magnetic force field to be reckoned with. "Are you in need of an ambulance? Would you like for me to call for help?" he held up his cell phone.
Come on, Swan. Suck it up! You know better than to put yourself in a weak spot… you don't need this gentleman's help. You are in no need of assistance. After all these years of training to be insensitive towards the triggers of your past, now is the time to forget?! I think not! Get a grip! I told myself.
"N-no…" I said shakily, still not turning around. I started again, about to tell him that I was alright, when he got a hold of my face, gasping and pulling me into a hug. Here, this complete stranger held me, but I felt oddly at ease, not like how I should have felt.
"You've been crying… you are not okay. What's your name? Is everything alright?" The warm stranger asked with plead in his voice. He seemed to compassionate that I couldn't do anything other than stand there and practically melt into his warm touch. It wasn't necessarily the embrace of a lover, but it also wasn't one of friendship… more like in between the two. I felt close to this man with the toasty, gray wool coat that was scratching lightly against my cheek.
"My name is Bella… and I am okay …?" I took a deep breath, and the reply turned out sounding more like a question to his question. My eyes had gone bleary again, and things seemed to go fuzzy and slightly out of focus. I was still in the arms of the wonderful stranger, his head on my shoulder, and my head on his chest. Then, as if I just realized that I was in a passionate embrace with a man who I didn't know, I jumped back like I had been electrocuted. His face was even more wonderful that his legs, which I had been looking at while hugging his warm form. His eyes… those emerald green eyes that shone with shock and… delight? They were hard to read, but it was wonderful. His jaw… oh, his jaw! It could cut diamond, it was so sharp and defined… so manly. The hair atop his head was in a bronze disarray, giving me a yearning to run my hands through the silky-looking locks. This nameless Adonis was the epitome of perfection; from the top hair on his head, to the black leather shoes adorning his feet. Oh… big feet!
"Bella," he whispered quietly, while I watched my name fall off of his full, moist lips, his tongue slivering out slightly to caress his bottom lip. "My name is Edward Cullen, son of Carlisle and Esme Cullen." He smiled the most adorable, sexy crooked smile that had ever been seen on this planet. I smiled brightly back to Edward.
"Edward Cullen, as in sibling of Jasper Cullen? He's my boss," I added the last part quietly, as if saying this too loudly would get me into trouble. I snuck a quick glance around our two bodies, but Jasper was nowhere to be seen. I vaguely remember him telling me that he was headed home, but I was still in my airplane reminiscing haze. I couldn't fully function at that point in time, where goodbyes were intended and needed.
"You're the Bella Swan that Jasper always speaks to us about? Us meaning my family and I, of course. Geez, his descriptions give you no justice!" he smiled slightly, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes this time. Without knowing why, I felt a yearning to comfort him, and put the little glimmer of light back within his irises. Oh, those alluring, dead set sexy irises!
"Thank you?" I asked. "What does he say about me?" Edward frowned slightly, before smiling again, still no light reaching his eyes.
"He is so infatuated with you… even more so than he lets on. Everyday he gets home from work he talks about how beautiful you looked that day, and how amazing you are." I blushed like crazy at his revelation to me.
"I knew Jasper liked me, but I didn't know it was like that," I said, my pondering and dwindling thoughts evident in my voice. It seemed so bazaar that one of the most handsome men on the earth had feelings like this towards me. I liked Jasper a lot. Maybe, in the future, I might even find myself so attached that I'd love him. I felt elated, but disappointed at the same time. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, though. Edward wrung his hands, looking completely nervous… how odd.
"Would you like a ride home, Bella?" He asked with a somehow deeper voice. It was so alluring that it scared the hell out of me, but I happily complied. I knew that Edward and I were going to be great friends, even if we had only had a fifteen minute conversation.
We walked side by side down the busy, dark road, steering away from the dark alleys. Through the gardens, shopping districts, and restaurants bustling with life, we finally reached the parking garage, nearing Edward's car in a matter of minutes since we stepping onto the garage cement flooring. It was cold and gave me chicken flesh, but I remained wise and refrained from shivering involuntarily. One slipped, though, and Edward draped his sports jacket over my thin, white dress shirt. I looked into his magnificent eyes, seeming to be getting lost in a trance. I quietly thanked him, not wanted to ruin the hushed moment filled with friendliness.
"Here we are," he said in a hush, opening his arm to the car. I ripped my eyes away from his, staring dead into an Aston Martin Vanquish 2010. Damn, a fucking panty-dropping sports car!! Hot damn, he is rich! It's no wonder how many whores he probably has lying around here, most likely dirtying up the backseat. But, come on… this is Edward we're talking about. It's not like I'm saying he couldn't get any, but he just doesn't seem like the kind of man that would have one night stands, or… god forbid… 'Pleasure hoes'. I harbored in a rough gasp, feeling Edward's eyes boring into the right side of my head.
"Like it?" Edward asked simply, taking a step closer to my shocked body.
"Like it… like it? God, it's a damn Aston Martin… of course I like it! I love it!!" I swerved my body around the car, trying to peer in through the dark, tinted windows. The black paint was so glossy that it was as if it were a mirror. I saw my feet at the bottom of the car, planted on the side of the door. Lightly running the pads of my fingers over and around the car… my fingers barely even ghosting the frame, I walk in a slow circle around the sports vehicle.
"Come on, let's take you home… you look cold," Edward offered sweetly. I couldn't hide my apparent coldness as it came back in a rush of freezing wind. He chuckled a musical laugh, making my insides tingle.
Once I was seated and buckled in, Edward shut my door and ran around the car to sit at the driver's seat. He had such grace that it would rival that of a professional male dancer's; and, as he drove to my house (from my directions), I felt myself leaning into his friendly presence. I could tell already that we were to be great friends.
The chapters WILL get much longer ---------------- 3
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