A/N: Many thanks and much love to my wonderful beta on this project, Ms Kathy. Without further ado, the final chapter of Tips.

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"Edward, I'm going to make the deposit. Are you okay to close up on your own?" Poppy shrugged on her winter parka as Edward came out from the back section of the diner where he was cleaning up. It had been snowing on and off all evening, and the deli had been empty for more than hour.

"Sure," he said. "It's not like there's much left to do. D'ya have someone to take you to the bank?" Poppy put a bulging deposit bag into her purse. Edward didn't like the idea of her driving to the bank this late at night with that much cash on her.

"Alejandro is going with me," she said, referring to the evening cook. "He'll follow me in his car and make sure I get on my way safe." She smiled at him. "Go on, finish cleaning. I know how to lock the door behind me after all these years."

Edward gave her the thumbs up and went back to sweeping. Alejandro walked out of the kitchen, his boots thumping loudly on the floor. There was a murmur of voices, a gust of cold wind, then the jingle of the keys in the lock.

It was December 10. Winter had come early to Chicago.

Putting the broom away, Edward went behind the counter to wipe down. He made sure the menus were neatly stacked for tomorrow's breakfast. Salt and pepper shakers full, little bowls of cream and sweetener filled and lined up, coffee machines shut off. His eyes fell on a carafe, still half full of coffee, tucked on to a shelf behind the bakery case. There you are, he thought. One of the new busboys had an annoying habit of leaving carafes in odd places, and they were forever coming up one short at closing.

He picked up the carafe and gave it a swirl; the coffee was still lukewarm. At least it hasn't been sitting there all day. Those were disgusting and really hard to get clean. Edward turned to dump the cooling coffee into the sink. In that moment, he heard an indrawn breath, a sound of protest.

Surely there was only one person in the world who loved Poppy's coffee that much.

Still holding the carafe, Edward raised his eyes slowly and looked toward the door, not wanting to hope. He'd had too many disappointments since the day she had left.

This wasn't one of them.

Bella was standing inside the door, wearing jeans and that ratty old winter jacket that he'd first seen her in nearly a year ago. Her dark hair sparkled with melted snow, and her eyes were huge and anxious.

Edward dropped the carafe into the sink (where it fortunately did not shatter) and scrambled over the counter. He knew he had a boatload of conflicted feelings for this woman that might never be fully resolved, but at that moment, he needed her more than he had ever needed anyone in his life.

He reached out for her, feeling her arms go around his neck, pressing her tight against his body. Edward buried his nose in her hair. Bella smelled sweet and clean, like she always did. He knew he must stink of grease and sweat after his shift, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Bella didn't seem to mind either because her face was pressed against his shirt, holding him tight.

For those few moments, there was no age gap, no social differences, and certainly no one around named Isabella Swan. They were just two people who belonged together.

"How did you get in?" he asked at last.

"Alejandro was coming out as I arrived. Poppy said you were inside. I didn't know if you'd even be willing to see me," Bella said in a muffled voice against his chest. "I was so afraid …" She looked up at his face, her eyes shiny. "Come. Let's sit down and talk."

They drew out a couple of chairs from the nearest table and sat down, facing each other. Edward could feel some of the joy of their reunion draining away, and he looked down at his hands, feeling awkward. There was a scraping of chair legs and Bella's hands reached out to cover one of his.

"Talk to me," she said. "There's no right or wrong way to do this. Just talk." Edward felt the weight of the questions and accusations buzzing in his head ease a bit, and realized there was really only one question he needed to know the answer to.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He looked at her, some of the bitterness of the last few months seeping in. "Didn't you trust me, Bella? Did you think I'd sell you out?"

"I know I should have told you earlier," she said softly. "I just couldn't figure out when the right time was. Then I got called to New York early, and it was too late."

"But why lie in the first place? Then you wouldn't have had to wonder what the 'right time' was."

"Because the Edward I met back at the beginning of the year probably wouldn't have respected my privacy," she answered. "The one I know now would. But can you honestly say you wouldn't have told people back when we first met?"

"Who would I have told?" asked Edward indignantly. "I didn't even know the names of your books."

"You would have looked them up," Bella said. "If you had seen someone at the book store browsing my books, or overheard some customers in the restaurant talking about my new title coming out – what would you have done?" Edward felt his cheeks redden. He would have said something, of course. Bragged that he knew the author. Maybe mentioned that she was a regular customer at Poppy's.

"Exactly," said Bella, even though he hadn't said anything. "You couldn't have kept quiet about it. After a while, it would have gotten around that Isabella Swan eats at Poppy's Deli. I appreciate my readers very much, but I value my privacy too."

"I guess," said Edward. "But that was at the beginning. Why didn't you tell me later on?"

"I don't know," she replied with a sigh. "I guess I wanted one person – one friend – who likes me for who I really am. I didn't think it was too much to ask…" Her voice trailed off.

"Maybe," Edward said. "But I don't think it was too much to ask for me to learn the truth from you, and not from watching fucking Oprah. That wasn't fair."

Bella's face crumpled at his words, making Edward feel like a first-class shit. He rubbed his forehead; this was all very complicated. Bella was looking down at the table, still not saying anything. He was about to apologize when Bella nodded.

"You're right," she finally said. "I fucked up, and I'm sorry. I promise to be more forthcoming and honest going forward. Can you forgive me?" Edward's jaw dropped. He couldn't remember the last time an adult had said that they were wrong and he was right. Maybe no one had ever said that to him. "Edward?" Bella prompted.

"Yeah, it's all good" he said, curling his fingers around her hand. "Can you forgive me for saying what I did the day you left?" For good measure, he put on his best pouty face as he asked. Bella's eyes widened, and she swallowed with a faint clicking sound.

"Of course, little one," she replied faintly. "It is forgotten."

Edward frowned. "Don't call me that – 'little one'. It's not cool, you know?" To his surprise, Bella flushed, looking more embarrassed than she had when he had taken her to task on the secrets she had kept from him. I will never understand women. "Hey, I'm not pissed or anything. I just don't know why you call me that – I'm twice your size."

"I didn't mean to be demeaning. I call you that … I call you that to remind myself of how young you are," Bella stammered.

"You need something to remind you of the fact that there's 18 years difference in our ages?" Edward asked in disbelief. "What for?"

"So that I never forget you're way too young … for me."

Edward looked at her, not sure he understood correctly. Did she mean what I think she meant? Her cheeks were going redder by the second as the silence stretched out between them.

"Uh, Bella …" he started, then stopped, still unsure.

"Just forget I said that, okay?" she mumbled. Edward could feel her withdrawing from him, and he held her hand tighter, just in case she decided to make a break for it.

"No, I don't want to forget it," he said. "I want to know what you really meant by that."

"No, actually, you don't," Bella said firmly.

Edward swiped his hair out of his eyes, frustrated. "What happened to 'more forthcoming and honest'? Was that just bullshit?" She shook her head. "Then what is it?"

"I'm sorry," said Bella. "It's just that you're so beautiful. It's impossible not to have some … feelings like that for you."

There was a long, long silence in the diner.

"Bella, I …"

"You don't need to say anything, Edward," she interrupted. "I'm sure it happens to you all the time. You're a very attractive young man, but that's not why I …"

"Bella, stop," he said. "What if I feel the same about you?" The words came out of nowhere. Edward hadn't rehearsed any of this in his mind or thought about what this conversation might be like. He just knew – knew – he needed her.

"Edward, don't," Bella said uneasily. "You don't have to say that."

"But I mean it." Edward dragged his chair closer. "I feel stuff for you that I've never felt for any other woman."

"I don't know what to say, Edward." She looked down at their linked hands. "You're very special to me, too. Special enough that I don't want to throw it away on some one-night stand."

"That's not what I want to do either," he said. "I want to be with you. You know … have a relationship with you."

"I'm 18 years older than you," Bella said, enunciating every syllable. "My youth is over, Edward. Yours is just beginning!"

"But you made me a better man," Edward insisted. "I like who I am when I'm with you. When you're not here, I feel like part of me is missing." Bella smiled and reached up to touch his cheek, rough with five o'clock shadow.

"I didn't make you a better man, sweetheart," she said. "You made yourself a better man. I just came along at the right time to give you a bunch of advice that you'd already heard a thousand times before. You were ready to change, that's all."

"I'm not so sure," he said stubbornly. "I think we're good together. Don't you?"

She didn't answer his question. "Tell me, what's the longest relationship you've ever had with a woman?"

He thought that over for a few minutes, resisting the urge to count on his fingers. "Uh … well, I dated a girl in high school for just over a year."

"That sounds quite reasonable for a person of your age," said Bella. "I was with Marcus for 17 years. Seventeen years." Edward winced. That was almost his entire lifetime!

Bella reached out and smoothed away the lines on his forehead. "I've never met anyone like you, Edward. I feel things for you that I've never felt for anyone else before too. But I've just come out of a divorce, and I'm not ready to date anyone, no matter how flattering the offer is."

"But that's not really why you're saying no, is it?" he asked.

"No, it's not," she replied. "I'm saying no because I think you can do so much better than me. I'm in my forties, Edward, and I've never been a party girl, even when I was your age. My idea of a perfect evening is having friends over for cocktails and dinner, and everyone leaves by 11 p.m. I haven't been to a nightclub in years. Does that sound like a social life you could be content with?"

"We could meet in the middle," he said. "You could teach me to like the things you like, and I'd share my life with you."

"Maybe so," smiled Bella. "But there are a million other issues to consider. You live at home, for God's sake. My career can make life very challenging." She looked at him in exasperation. "You're 23 – you should be out dating pretty girls, looking for the right one to settle down with! Maybe doing some traveling, figuring out what you want to do with your life."

"I can do all of that – well, not the pretty girls part – while I'm dating you. Actually," he said, "I'm applying to a college program in interactive media design for the fall."

"You are?" asked Bella, delighted. "That's great! That's a terrific field to get into right now. I know you'll do well." Her smile filled him with warmth. "And that's exactly what you should be doing at this stage in your life – going to school, meeting people, living your life. Not tying yourself down to some old woman like me."

"You're not old," he protested. "Forty is the new 30, everyone knows that."

She eyed him darkly. "Where'd you read that?"

"Cosmo magazine," he replied promptly. Bella cracked up laughing, and Edward grinned at his own joke. "See, we love being with each other. How can that be a bad thing?"

"It's not," she admitted. "But just because you're a boy and I'm a girl, and we enjoy being together doesn't mean we have to spend that time as a couple." Bella paused, then dragged out the heavy artillery. "What about children? If you stayed with me, you'd have no children of your own."

"That's not true," replied Edward. "Frankie …"

"… already has a father," answered Bella softly. "Marcus may not have been the best husband for me, but he is a very good daddy to Frankie. One day, you'll be a terrific dad too – to your own children. I won't stand in the way of that, Edward, I can't. Not if I really care about you."

Edward didn't have any way to argue against that. After all, what she said was surely true. He looked down once again at their joined hands, her fingers slender but weathered with time, his skin red and chapped with the day's work. Yet her hand nestled so perfectly into his, warm and snug, secure against the ravages of their complex lives.

"Give me a year," he said suddenly.

"Sorry?"

"It took you a year to change me." Bella started to object, but Edward waved her off. "Okay, you say you didn't change me. But it took you a year to get me started on the right path. Now give me a year to prove to you that we belong together."

"Edward," she said warningly.

"I'm not asking us to be a couple," he said. "But close friends. Let me show you my world outside this restaurant, Bella. You show me your life. Then at the end of the year, we'll know one way or the other."

"Friends," she repeated, looking at him narrowly. "That means no sex."

"Well, there's friends with benefits," Edward said.

"Not with us, there isn't," she said. "If I have sex with you, I'll never be able to stop myself from falling in love with you. And I can't do that, not right now."

"Fine, fine," sighed Edward, rising. "It's a deal."

"With one condition," said Bella. "I want to kiss you first."

Edward looked at her like she was crazy. "I want to know what I'm turning down," she said firmly. "If we spend this year together – as friends – there's going to be a lot of temptation for both of us. Let's get the kissing out of the way up front so there's no mystery to it anymore."

Bella stood and tilted her chin up. She seemed very brazen, but Edward could see her hands trembling.

He had just finished madly lobbying her for the last half hour to date him. Now he had the chance to kiss her, and he felt like running away. Those 18 years loomed larger than ever between them.

"Okay," he said, more to himself than to Bella. Edward put his hands on her shoulders and gently drew her up against him. He held her there for a moment, warm and soft against his body. Her scent flooded him again, sweet and inviting. Jesus, what if it's like kissing my mother? The fleeting thought was gone as soon as it occurred, and he dipped his head down to take her lips in his.

Bella kissed him very slowly, not letting him rush it. Her lips brushed against his, her tongue skimming ever so lightly along his bottom lip. Edward caught his breath, and felt her fingers dig into his long hair and pull him down more firmly. Her tongue was doing all kinds of warm, tickly things in his mouth, and he could feel himself stiffening against her.

All too soon, Bella was drawing back, raining little kisses around his mouth as she did so. They stood there in each other's arms for a long moment, breathing heavily with desire.

"I have another condition," said Bella huskily.

"Is it another kiss?" he murmured, nuzzling in her hair.

"No. I need you to heat up that coffee you were holding when I came in. Just throw it in the microwave. I really need some of Poppy's coffee."

Edward let out a shout of laughter. "That's disgusting," he said, but he let her go and went behind the counter nonetheless, pouring the coffee into a mug and took it into the kitchen to warm up. While Bella greedily drank it, Edward went into the employee washroom and changed out of his uniform. He reappeared a few minutes later, Bella was washing out her cup behind the counter. She looked up, then did a double take.

"What?" he asked.

"I've never seen you in person in anything other than that uniform," she said. "I didn't recognize you for a minute."

Bella waited as Edward flipped off the lights inside the diner. He walked over to the alarm panel and prepared to enter the code. Before he did, he looked up at her.

"Where are we going? Do you maybe want to go grab something to eat together?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "Do you like sushi? I know a great place that's open late."

Edward grinned. "I love it. See? We're getting along already." He looked back at the alarm panel, then looked over at her once more. "You know, you've never told me why you picked me."

"Picked you … what do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"You could have chosen any waiter or waitress in the city to help out. Why did you choose to help me?"

Bella looked at him in the semi-dark, her eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears.

"You always say that I'm the one who helped you, who made you better. But Edward, all along, you were the one who saved me."

He looked at her in wonder. "What do you mean?"

"That's a long, long story that can only be told over a bottle of red wine." She chuckled at the impatient look on his face. "Don't worry – we have a year, remember?"

Smiling, he gave her the finger, and she laughed in response. Edward punched in the alarm code, then walked over to open the door for her. Together, they stepped out of the restaurant, and into the night.

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A/N: I owe special thanks to philadelphic for her support throughout this story. And of course, lots of love to my dear friends Algie, Feisty and Ms K as well.

I may add one more chapter to this story – this time in Bella's POV, showing where and when this all began.

I am participating in the Fandom Gives Back auction this year – I'm offering a one-shot and an outtake of the winner's choice (with a few parameters). Visit thefandomgivesback dot com, click "Stories" and then look for my name.

All funds raised go toward Alex's Lemonade Stand, a charity that supports research into childhood cancers and provides resources for families struggling with these terrible diseases. I hope you'll consider a bid on my stories or on any of the other wonderful items up for auction.

Thanks to all my readers, especially those who took the time to review or send little notes my way. I appreciate you so much.

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For B, for a brief but memorable friendship fairly bought and paid for.