A/N: Thanks for the reviews, all. You're amazing. This goes out to funkydiva1978 because she's just all sorts of amazing and has given me lots of awesome plot suggestions. Please check out her story "The Delicate Dance of Marriage" -- it's just as awesome as it sounds.
Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.
BPOV
It couldn't be.
He couldn't possibly hate me so much that he'd go out of his way and slash my tires. I mean, COME ON. Who does that?
He does, apparently.
It all added up to him being the culprit. He hated me and wanted to scare me or something so I'd just give up on the building ordeal.
He needed to know I wasn't a quitter.
It had to be him.
He knew where I lived; he'd driven me home after the hospital and obviously Alice lived here so he knew that much. He may not have ever visited his nearly estranged sister, but he certainly knew where she lived.
So the fucker wanted to play dirty? I could play dirty. I could play dirty all night long.
Instead of kick the crap out of my tires for being slashed, I decided on a less emotional and more logical path, that being I went inside and picked up the phone and called the tow guy.
In less than half an hour he managed to replace my tires and handed me a hefty bill. I thanked him sincerely, but not before he cautioned me that this was done by a professional to look like an accident.
"You can really tell that from just looking at the tire?" I asked, curious if he would be able to find enough evidence to convict Edward.
He grunted as he kneeled down and looked at my now deflated tires lying sadly on the pavement. "Miss, let's just say when I see a pretty young lady like yourself getting her tires slashed, it's more than just accidental. See these marks," he pointed to the slashes, "they were done with a heavy duty industrial instrument of sorts. This ain't no Mickey Mouse tire slashing."
My stomach dip flips and I took a deep breath to keep my composure. I assured the man that I knew who it was and I'd be fine, but he only left once he was completely convinced.
As I hurried inside to shower and get ready for work, I decided a surprise lunch visit at Edward's office would be only so courteous considering the effort he'd went through to slash my tires. Or at least, the effort he went through to hire someone to slash my tires.
--
"Edward, that annoying Isabella Swan is here for another surprise meeting," the bitchy strawberry blonde secretary fumed into the phone. "Yes I know you're busy, and I truly apologize, but would you please just send her away yourself." She shot an intimidating glare my way and I sneered back at her. "She refuses to leave."
After some Oscar award winning performance of sighing and being as ignorant as humanly possible, the secretary showed me inside Edward's office, who was again sitting at his desk with a pile of work in front of him, looking utterly distracted.
"Thank your lucky stars that for some godforsaken reason you're my sister's best friend or else I'd have no patience for someone as persistent as you," he said, not bothering to look up from his work.
"Yes, well, good afternoon to you too." I looked around his office, envying his beautiful view of the lake before sitting down in a plush leather chair.
"Would you like something to drink?" Edward asked quietly, then stood up and walked over to a liquor hutch and began pouring something out of a crystal decanter.
"No, I'm fine thanks," I replied curtly. I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not and I didn't want to press my luck.
"So, Isabella," he sighed loudly and took a generous sip of what appeared to be scotch on the rocks. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?"
Yep. He was definitely being sarcastic.
"Well Edward, I don't want to waste your time-" I began, before I was rudely cut off.
"You're already three minutes too late for that," he looked at his watch and held up his finger. "Make that four. If I was charging you by the hour I'd have already rounded this up to a half hour's work. Time is money Isabella," he cautioned.
"Bella," I said firmly. "My name is Bella."
He looked slightly taken aback at my correcting him, but then grinned. "Such an odd name for someone like you, isn't it?"
His eyes were blazing and intense, which meant that like last time, I was in for a slew of jargon-laden insults.
"Why is that? Because it means beautiful in Italian, which I'm clearly not?" I asked, not really giving a damn about his witty comebacks.
I searched his eyes; for what, I don't know. Perhaps I thought that by staring deep into his eyes, his cruel soul would be revealed and I could gain the power to accuse him of slashing up my tires. I couldn't very well just storm into someone's office and accuse them of a crime if they hadn't committed it, or at the very least I couldn't do so without any evidence. That was lesson one in law school, and I'd be damned if I fuelled Edward for a rebuttal of a thousand and one legal terms and "lack of just cause," and harassment charges amongst this and that and the other. He appeared to be a better lawyer than me at this point.
"Now Bella, I wouldn't say you're not beautiful," his voice was velvety and he spoke slowly and carefully, choosing his words with caution. "If it weren't for your lack of regard for anyone else's professional obligations and filthy mouth I'd have actually found you somewhat attractive. I just meant that Isabella is such a ladylike name, which clearly, you aren't."
Not as bad as I thought, I suppose. I mean he did just call me beautiful, which was a hell of a lot better than what I was expecting. My stomach did weird, wonderful things when he called me beautiful, and I'd forgotten all about why I was here in the first place.
Right. Slashed tires.
"Can I ask where you were this morning?" I demanded. I decided it was best to ignore his babbling about my name and play his 'don't waste my time, I'm the most successful person alive, I don't have time for your nonsense' card.
He raised his eyebrow, his interest peaking about something I'd said. "Well, if you really want to know about my morning routine, first I get up, do a thousand sit-ups, jog seven miles on my treadmill... which I used to do on a running path but funnily enough I haven't had the desire to go there lately. Too many uncoordinated people," he smiled wryly and continued on, "and then I take a shower, read the newspaper while I eat my steel cut oats, and then drive into this god-awful city for my mind-numbing job."
Clearly he wasn't going to mention the fact that he snuck over to slash my tires.
"Fine, Edward. You want to play games? I'm really good at games. In fact, I love games. I was going to make a deal before a certain someone did a certain something, and now the last thing I want to do is settle. I'll see you and Emmett McCarty in court." I stormed out of his office, not even bothering to make some sarcastic remark at the stupid secretary on my way out.
I went straight over to my office and shuffled through the stack of mail at my desk hoping that Edward sent some witty letter that alluded to his recent attack. Unfortunately, there was no such letter addressed to me from Edward Cullen, but there was an anonymous letter in the same stationary that Edward used to write his ridiculous letter telling me he was evicting me due to posing a fire hazard to his building.
I eagerly ripped open the letter and held it out in front of me.
"Isabella, if I were you I'd sleep with one eye open."
That was simple enough. Of course it was him; he was the only person, next to Dr. Cullen of course, who called me Isabella. And even so, I usually only had to correct Dr. Cullen once before he remembered I hated being called Isabella.
Edward called me Isabella to annoy me.
I picked up the phone and dialled the number of Edward's company. Once the operator answered, I requested to be connected to Emmett McCarty.
"Yello, Emmett McCarty here," he said, presumably on a cell phone because the background was all scratchy, and seriously, what kind of lawyer would answer their own office phone besides me?
"Hi Emmett, Bella Swan calling," I paused, waiting for his response.
"Oh Bella! Hi! Are you calling to remind me about next week's yoga class? Because believe you me, I've been going to pretty much every pilates and yoga class I can handle just to catch a glimpse of that beautiful boss of yours. In fact, I even went to Bust-Your-Butt Pilates because she was teaching it. Man oh man, did she ever bust her butt. And did I forget to mention what she was wearing?"
"Emmett, that's wonderful," I interrupted, trying to get down to business here. "I'm pleased you enjoy the classes. But that's not why I am calling. I'm calling to set up a court date with you. Edward Cullen is trying to knock down my building, and well, I'm not allowing it. He won't settle so we're going to court."
"Hmmm..." he paused for a second, then finished chewing and swallowed what I assumed was his lunch. "Bella, as Edward's attorney I would advise you to accept his offer. We'll make sure you get enough money to relocate somewhere else."
"Emmett, as Edward's attorney I would suggest you stick to advising your own client," I replied harshly, and instantly felt bad about using such a tone on him. It wasn't his fault, and he was just trying to be nice. "But thanks," I continued. "I'm not settling though. We're going to battle this out the hard way and I will get my way.
Emmett groaned loudly, and I could tell he didn't want to fight this case; perhaps because he liked me as a person, or perhaps because he didn't want this to ruin his chances with Rosalie. I settled on the latter.
"Listen, this won't necessarily hurt your chances with Rosalie. Rosalie hates Edward, so I doubt she'll take it out on you. I seriously don't want to fight it out with you either."
"Aw, thanks Bella, you rock. I'm lovin' those classes by the way."
"No problem Emmett. Just warn your client that he's in for a real treat with me. He won't know what hit him."
"Alright, sounds good, I'll let Edward know. Just so you know, Edward's never lost a case against him. He gets sued all the time, but he's never once settled or lost. Just a friendly heads' up," he added.
"Gotcha. Talk to you later Emmett. Take it easy."
Later that day I received a subpoena from Emmett to inspect my building and files for any evidence of fire hazards. Attached to the very last page was a post it with a note on it.
"This is the last you'll hear from me on this case. I've decided to drop it. Best of luck. - Emmett."
That was relatively decent, I supposed. It was reassuring to see that Edward at least hung around with a few decent people, who might at least be able to instil some good in him.
With a crew of cops and guys from the fire and safety board coming over to ransack my office, I told everyone we were taking the rest of the day off and decided on doing some self-preservation of my own.
I texted Rosalie and arranged to meet her downtown for a quick lunch. I desperately needed to find out how she really knew Edward Cullen.
Right on time, Rosalie met up with me and we decided on a table outside on the patio overlooking the water.
I breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed the sound of seagulls overhead before Rosalie lit up a cigarette.
"Ew, Rose, you know that habit's deadly," I warned her. I'd been trying to get her to quit for years but she insisted that if she did she'd gain weight and her modelling career would be shot to shit.
"Bella, today's not the day," she exhaled the toxic smoke slowly, cautious enough not to get it in my face. "You look like you need one though. You want?" she passed me the pack but I declined.
"Nah, I like being alive thanks," I said sardonically.
She looked at me but then we both burst out into laughter at my last comment.
"Anyway," I continued, grateful that she didn't take my nagging personally today. "Where's Alice?"
"Work," Rosalie replied, looking around absentmindedly in the distance -- something she only did when her mind was elsewhere.
"You seem distracted," I noted, grabbing a smoke from her pack. I carefully lit it and took a deep drag.
Rose raised her eyebrows at my smoking but then decided against commenting. "Emmett McCarty has sent me two dozen roses every hour on the frickin' hour today." She sounded utterly perplexed. She took a long drag of her cigarette and flicked the ash on the pavement.
"Yeah? So? You have like hundreds of guys lusting over you every day. Not to mention doing other things in the presence of your Sports Illustrated spread. I'm sure roses are pretty mild compared to what you're used to receiving in the mail."
"He sent me my favourite roses. And poems. It sounds cheesy, but really, it's not. It's kind of sweet actually. Like I know he's a bad guy, I remember hearing about him through Edward when we went to school together. He was a real spoiled kid, right, since his dad's a senator and all," she explained. "He's pretty famous as a society boy, and with the luck I've had with that type I really just need a good guy for a change. I don't think Emmett is what you would call a good guy."
"Well, I can say this much. He had the opportunity to make a killing working on Edward's case to shut down my building, but he didn't. He did it out of respect. I think that's all you need to convince you that he's not your typical frat guy." I took a sip of my water, scanning the restaurant for our waitress when I nearly spit my drink out all over Rose's face.
"Bella?! Are you okay?" Rose exclaimed, handing me a cloth napkin to clean the mess up with. "You nearly choked!"
I couldn't speak, but pointed over to Edward who was seated at a table diagonal to us with an attractive brunette. He was wearing his full business attire, but had his tie loosened around his neck, and the skankette was wearing a tight white sundress.
"Ugh, Dickward Cullen is eating lunch at the same restaurant, surprise surprise," she said dryly, not fazed in the least.
"Surprise surprise Rose? I think you need to start telling me what you know about said dickhead."
Edward noticed our attention was set on him and seemingly loved it. He smiled that wretched cocky smile and stood up and walked over to us.
"Bella, Rose, what a surprise," he smirked. "I was just out to lunch with Jessica over there, my lovely young intern. What a coincidence. Should we bring two tables together?"
He wasn't as much asking as he was insisting, because he motioned to the waitress to bring the tables over and she did so obligingly.
Fuck.
"Rosalie Hale, it's been too long," Edward said, extending his hand out to shake hers. She looked at it for a minute and shook it, but glared at him and his skanky date.
"It's been three weeks Edward, so not long at all really," Rosalie replied, looking at the menu so as to seem disinterested.
"Rosalie and I dated for a couple months," he said to his new date. I nearly choked on my water again. "Bella, you look flustered. Are you having trouble drinking your water?" he spoke to me cunningly because he knew damn well why I was upset.
"Rosalie and you did date eh?" I said, kicking Rosalie under the table. "Well isn't that interesting."
"OW!" she exclaimed, kicking me back without any subtlety.
"Ladies, ladies, don't fight on my account. If we're going to have a girl fight then let's all head over to my place where we can continue this in privacy," he grinned deviously at me. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him but I decided against it, since it was utterly immature.
"You wish," Rosalie sneered.
"No Rosalie, I don't wish. If I'd have wanted that it would have happened by now. Now," he said, looking over at me. "We meet again Bella. What a surprise. I thought you'd have gone home and packed up to leave the country after receiving the subpoena."
"Actually, I'm all the more excited for a challenge. Especially since Emmett already backed down." I tried to gauge his reaction to see if he was aware of Emmett dropping the case on my account, but he showed no sign of peaked interest.
"Yes, well. Emmett's reassigned himself to a more challenging case. I have a good lawyer on your cute little tail though. Don't you worry; with the city on our side there probably won't even be a need -- or opportunity -- to go to court."
"Is he always this annoying?" I asked the brunette girl who seemed blissfully unaware of our banter. If I didn't know any better I'd have thought she was on a high dose of Valium.
"He's my boss, and of course he's not annoying. He just doesn't like certain people." She applied lip gloss using the reflection of her soup spoon and Edward furrowed his brow at her disapprovingly.
"Wow Edward, you're so lucky to have such bright young interns working for you. How old is this one? Nineteen?" I gave the brunette a quick once-over as she kept an icy glare on me.
"Actually, twenty two," the brunette snapped at me. "Eddie, I have to run to the little girls' room. Keep an eye out for the waitress to bring me a Perrier with lemon," she instructed as she stroked his shoulder affectionately. He removed her hand from his shoulder and ignored her.
"So now that we're rid of that," I said, earning a laugh out of Edward who tried to cover it up as a cough, "let's have a real person conversation."
"Here here," Rose held up her wine glass and took a sip of chardonnay. "So Eddie," she mocked, "What have you been up to besides trying to bash down Bella's building? Anything notable?"
Edward pulled out his BlackBerry and looked intently at it. "Not sure," he replied, tucking it back in his pocket. "I mean, yes, I've been contributing greatly to... my own bank account I suppose. I was going to say society, but really, who am I fooling? Jobs like that are for people like Bella here who went to state schools. And bus drivers."
I snorted, completely disgusted with his abhorrent narcissism.
"Do we think someone got lost on her way to the little girls' room?" I jeered, mimicking the brunette's unnaturally bubbly and high-pitched voice.
"A Dr. Sweet Cheeks she is not, but she certainly is flexible. And she's willing to do anything."
I had a feeling his statement applied far beyond the office confines.
"Flexibility is always good in an employee," Rosalie added, pulling out a cigarette. Mine was completely done so I flicked the ash to the side of me which accidentally landed on Edward's pant.
"Disgusting, Swan," he muttered as he tried to clean it off with a cloth dipped in ice water. "I never knew a yoga goddess to be a smoker."
"I thought you said you never did yoga before, hence not knowing any other yoga 'goddesses' beyond myself," I retorted.
"Oh just because I don't do yoga doesn't mean I don't do yoga related... people." He wasn't even trying to cover up the fact that he was a sleazy manwhore.
The waitress arrived at the table, with Jessica lagging behind shortly after, ready to lick up the ash leftover on Edward's pants if that's what he asked of her.
"Oh Edward, what will I order?" she asked, looking wide-eyed at the menu awaiting his response.
"It wouldn't kill you to eat a salad," he replied coldly. Surely enough, that's what she ordered; a house salad with no dressing and a Perrier.
Edward ordered something that looked about ready to walk off the plate; a steak -- supposedly -- that was seeping out blood, with a side of a Caesar salad.
I turned my nose up at his unappetizing slab of meat, and delicately twirled my alfredo around my fork. Rosalie settled on a vegetarian frittata of sorts, because she was in for a photo shoot later this week and didn't want anything that would cause bloating.
"So Rosalie, still doing the Playboy photo shoots? Or have you gotten too old for those gigs?" Edward took a bite of steak and licked the bit of juice that landed on his lip.
"Edward, fuckward, you know I never do fully nude or any of that garbage. It's strictly GQ, Victoria's Secret, Sports Illustrated... you know, tasteful spreads," Rosalie replied defensively. "Nobody sees these treasures but a select few," she grabbed her boobs and Edward shifted around in his seat uncomfortably. She then proceeded to rub them together for a minute, just enough to make him uncomfortable.
"Slut," he muttered under his breath.
"Oh you liked it," she purred. He rolled his eyes and focused back on his steak.
"I'd hardly say they still constitute a select few," he added. "Maybe when you were twelve it was select."
Rosalie defensively slapped his arm and Jessica shot an evil death-glare her way. "Ladies, please. Settle down. I'm sure Edward doesn't appreciate being hit like that."
I nearly choked on my food at how stupid this broad was. I tried to recover from my almost-choke, but as a result, I actually started choking really badly.
I started heaving and panicking, and I could feel my face fluster and turn hot. In record speed, Edward was by my side expertly performing the Heimlich manoeuvre on me, gently but extremely effectively. Soon the piece of food hacked its way out of my system and landed on the cement in front of me. Gross.
Edward gently patted me on the back and then chuckled. "That's twice I saved your life Swan," he said, his goddamn eyes sparkling. He took his seat and ordered that the waitress bring over another glass of water for me. She ran off, clicking her heels at Edward's order, but not before she shot me a glare. She was clearly devastated that I managed to live.
I smiled sweetly at her and continued on with my lunch.
"So Edward, tomorrow is the day," I began, as I shifted the food around on my plate. It was weird; all of a sudden I felt strangely nervous around him. This was unsettling.
"Tomorrow is indeed," he replied energetically. "It's not too late to back out Swan, and take my offer," he proposed.
"What offer is that?" Rosalie interjected. She was curiously eyeing me, as if I was intentionally causing problems where they didn't need to be caused. She was somewhat right on that assumption.
"I offered her a million five to just settle and build herself a new office," he explained. He took another bite of his lunch, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, you could really build yourself an incredible new office with that much, given yours is worth next to nothing as is."
"And what is the estimated worth as is?" Rosalie said, leaning forward in anticipation.
"One hundred grand," I replied coolly.
Rosalie looked at me as if I'd grown another head. "And you're rejecting Edward's offer because..."
"Because she's incorrigible," Edward stated flatly.
"Bella, this sounds just stupid. I say you take the offer and forget about this dickwad," she waved her fork at him dismissively, "and build a sick new place right beside my studio. The building that used to hold that trendy optician's office is for sale, and its price is about exactly what Edward's willing to give you."
"I don't want a million and a half dollars to build a new office. I have more than enough space in mine as is, and it's clean and does the job. Plus, it's central to all my clients who have to use public transit to get there."
"It's an eyesore and a dump and it's filthy," Edward insisted. "Please just take my offer. I'll even up it to two million, since you look extra stunning today," he said, his cocky grin dazzling me quite easily.
I couldn't tell whether he was joking or being sarcastic, but my breath hitched just a little bit. Apparently my body thought he was being charming.
"Edward, we have to go back to the office now," that annoying bitch said. I forgot she was still here.
"Oh right, thanks Stanley," he said, his eyes fixated on mine. "Think about it Bella. Please, just think about it." He raised and shook Rosalie's hand, who was scowling away at him, then shook mine. I involuntarily took it because apparently my body had other plans for me. I felt that strange jolt of electricity run through my body again, the same as what happened in the running path.
He threw down a wad of what looked to be over two hundred dollars and winked at me. "Stunning," he repeated, and left the restaurant.
I was completely in a daze until Rosalie interrupted my thoughts. "Edward Cullen just dazzled you."
A/N: Please review! Let me know what you're thinking!