A/N: Thank you for all the kind words and reviews:) Big thank you to everyone who voted me into the next round of Twi Fic Fandom Awards!

Song:Big Girls Cry by Sia

"Cut it out," Edward warned. "If you keep this up, I'm not going to make it trick-or-treating."

I ground against his jeans once more and then leaned back, pleased with the reaction I got from him.

It was Halloween, and according to the clock, I was supposed to turn into a pumpkin twenty minutes ago. Edward had to meet Bree at Esme's soon, which meant I should have left already.

I rose from his lap with a sigh. I gave him a small shrug as he pouted.

We had been ravenous for one another lately. Ever since I showed my devotion to him by working a few shifts at the bar, we took advantage of every spare moment we could. It was like showing I had a different side of myself was a turn-on for the both of us.

After Edward gave me my first orgasm with his talented mouth, I reciprocated one afternoon when Bree was at school. Thank God Jake had agreed to open the bar that day. Edward's face was ingrained into my brain. His taste. His smell.

Calm down, Bella.

I smirked and skipped over to get the gift I had in my bag for Bree.

Rustling through the huge tote, I found the gift bag that contained something which had caught my eye and immediately made me think of Edward's daughter. I handed it to Edward. "This is for Bree. It's just a little something. I know you said she's going to be princess. Every princess needs proper jewels."

Edward opened the tiny drawstring bag and pulled out a charm bracelet.

"I found it at the hotel's gift shop and thought it was perfect," I explained, hoping it wasn't too cheesy. I loved the bracelet Jane got me all those years ago. "You can add charms to it for certain occasions."

Edward grew quiet and I wrung my hands nervously. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have overstepped. And to think I was originally going to buy Bree the Tiffany's charm bracelet. Thank God I didn't.

Wordlessly, he stood from the couch and pulled me into a bear hug. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

I pulled away and nodded. "There's a charm in there to start her off." I grabbed the bag from his hands and pulled out a queen's crown. "I know it's not exactly a princess, but something tells me she's strong like a queen."

After he'd placed the bracelet and the charm back into the pouch, he pulled me into his arms again, capturing my lips with his, pouring his emotions into the kiss.

Knock, knock.

There was loud banging on the door followed by a little voice. "Grandma, why are we waiting out here? Did you forget your key? Oh here it is."

"Bree, you can't just open the–" Esme started as I jumped, wanting to hide behind Edward.

The front door flew open, and footsteps could be heard in the entryway before two figures appeared.

Edward turned to the door, taking in his mother and daughter. He folded his arms over his broad chest, his entire demeanor changing instantaneously. "Aubrey Grace," he said sternly as he gave her "the look." Any child knew "the look" and knew that when it made an appearance, their parent meant business. I was a recipient of the look many times.

Esme stood there and glanced at me sheepishly, mouthing "sorry."

"I thought we were meeting at your place, Mom?" Edward asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"I thought you said to meet you here. I'm sorry, honey," Esme apologized and hung her head.

Edward muttered, "It's okay." He took a breath and looked at Bree, and I followed his gaze.

A small little girl dressed head to toe in a pink princess dress stomped her way farther into the apartment. Bree.

"Why aren't you listening to your grandmother?" Edward demanded, staring her straight in the eyes.

But Bree wasn't listening. No—her eyes were laser focused on me. The stranger in her home. I felt bad. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, especially on a holiday she seemed so excited for.

I took the chance to give her a once-over. She was a very beautiful young girl. Her eyes were emerald green like Edward's and certain facial features were identical to her father's, but her hair was a light shade of brown, almost blonde. Her sass seemed to be one hundred percent hers.

I gave her a small, but friendly smile, but damn I had to admit I was intimidated. What if she didn't like me?

I hadn't planned to meet her like this. Hell, I hadn't really planned to meet her at all just yet. Edward never mentioned it, and I was happy to follow his lead.

"Bree, hello. Earth to Bree." Edward waved his hands in front of him before giving up with a huff.

I stood there, nervously twirling the ring that was on my index finger. I looked to Edward for support.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get any words out, Bree blurted, "Who's she?" She nodded in my direction.

Well we had one thing in common—blurting whatever was on our minds.

"Bree, manners," Edward warned. "This is Bella Swan. She's a friend of mine." He looked at me and smiled then turned back to Bree, obviously trying to gauge her reaction.

Esme's eyes widened as Edward said my name and the title of friend. Clearly, she didn't approve of him lying. What was he to me? What was I to him? I know we said we weren't seeing other people but we hadn't labeled anything.

Bree started her own cross-examination. "A friend?" She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Does she work at Bar? If so, how come I've never met her?" Damn, she could work for the FBI.

Edward and I answered simultaneously.

"No," I said as I shook my head. Edward stated simply, "Yes."

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Who's lying?" Bree raised her eyebrow before she started laughing as well. "Grown-ups are weird."

"Bella's filling in, but she doesn't technically work there," he explained, but she was apparently already over the conversation.

Bree started walking down the hall toward her room. All of a sudden she ran back toward us. "I have to go get my lip gloss, but I forgot–" Bree held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Bella." With a wink, she was gone.

What a character this little girl was.

"That's our Bree." Esme smiled hesitantly and looked down the hall, lovingly. "I have to go make sure she doesn't put lip gloss everywhere. It was nice seeing you again, Bella." She jogged toward her granddaughter's room.

"You too!" I called out, still taken aback by the whole exchange.

I took a deep breath, staring at the pattern on the area rug. It was chevron with hints of green. Esme must have picked that out.

Once Esme was out of earshot, Edward took my hand and led me toward the entryway. I almost tripped on Bree's ballet slippers. Edward put them back in the basket beside the door and then glanced in my direction.

"I'm sorry about all that. This wasn't how I intended for you to meet Bree," Edward said, sheepishly, his hands in his pockets. "She likes you, by the way. Interrogating people is her love language," he joked, or maybe he wasn't joking.

I straightened my tote bag over my shoulder. "Nothing to be sorry for. She's a great kid," I complimented.

Edward nodded. "Thank you. She is wonderful, a little strong-willed but wonderful."

I laughed because he was in for it during her teen years if her sass was anything like it was today.

"I should go…" I trailed off. My hand went to pull the door handle but was stopped by Edward's larger one.

"You could always come with us. Bree haggles everyone for extra candy. It's free entertainment," he offered as he held my hand in his.

"Not this time," I declined. "When we all do something together, I want to do it right."

Edward nodded once, giving me a pensive stare. "I'll give her your gift," he promised, holding the little drawstring bag in his other hand.

"Thank you." I leaned up to give him a peck on the lips.

"I'll call you later," he shouted as I walked down the hallway.

I would say our first meeting was a success.

–SD—

"I went to your brownstone," a familiar voice called from behind me. There she was: the Wicked Witch of the Upper East Side, also known as my mother. Renee was standing against a pillar, a shopping bag draped over the crook of her arm. She looked as chic as ever, but also as miserable as ever.

Renee was wearing this season's over-the-knee Chanel boots. I knew this because I was supposed to be the one in the campaign modeling them.

Renee crossed her arms defiantly as I closed the distance between us. She was ready for battle.

Her Botox and latest face-lift made it difficult to judge her facial expressions or lack thereof, but with me, she was always disappointed.

"Hello Mother," I greeted, leaning in for a hug. Instead of an embrace, she braced her hand on my shoulder and gave me an air kiss on either side of my face.

"Isabella, I would have thought by now you'd have tried to go back," she started. "You told me you were going to try. Your mail is piled up." Renee held out the shopping bag for me to take.

It had lots of mail and a few packages inside. "I took what I could carry." She shrugged and started for the elevator.

I followed behind, my shoulders sagging in resignation. There was an older gentleman and what looked like his granddaughter waiting for the elevator. Thankfully Renee didn't want any negative attention, so it gave me a few moments of peace to prepare for her latest lecture.

We rode the elevator in silence aside from the sounds of the video playing from the girl's phone.

As we got off the elevator, I dug in my Goyard tote for my key card. I really hoped I didn't leave it at Edward's again. My mother didn't need any more reasons to judge me.

The door had barely opened before Renee began her monologue, starting with the state of my hotel room. The mess she saw gave her more ammunition to criticize me.

"This place is a pigsty. You do realize one of the perks of living in a hotel is there's room service?" she asked sarcastically, shaking her head in disgust.

There were boxes strewn throughout, along with clothes covering three chairs. I rejected room service because I didn't need anybody looking through my things and selling them to reporters.

I hadn't been here enough this week to clean or even sort through anything. But I wasn't about to tell my mother what I had been up to. It was bad enough I'd told her about Edward in a weak moment.

"I can hire movers to bring all of this to the brownstone. I'm sure Tanya or one of her girls can help organize the place for you. It would be as if it were brand new," Renee offered.

I didn't need a home makeover. I needed to stay far away from my house and all the memories associated with it.

I took a deep breath, trying to remind myself that she was simply projecting her insecurities onto me. That was all Renee had done my entire life—try to make me into a better version of her.

"I don't want to go back, Mom," I said quietly, going over to the bar area to set down the bag of mail.

"Nonsense, Isabella. Your father and I have talked, and we think this whole situation you have going on is ludicrous."

I gasped. "You spoke to Dad?" I was genuinely surprised. My parents hadn't talked without lawyers or mediators present since their separation. Even when they were forced to be in a room together—due to circumstances beyond their control—they kept a wide berth, plastering on fake smiles and putting on airs, all for the sake of keeping up appearances. But it was all phony.

My father hadn't reached out to me much aside from a text here and there. But when I told him I wasn't coming for the summer, like I normally did, the texts became few and far between.

Renee nodded. "Yes, I had to." She walked beside me, picking up a stemless glass and poured something off the shelf. She took a long sip and then looked at me. "We're worried about you. Jane–"

I shook my head, not wanting to hear any more of this. It was so disingenuous.

"Is your sister's disapproval of me always going to trump everything I've ever done for you?" Renee looked up at the ceiling. "I'm the one who helped you get to the top and for what?" She then looked at me again, pursing her lips. There was her disgust. "For you to—"

"Enough!" I screamed, throwing my hands up to cover my ears. I couldn't take it anymore.

She was so infuriating and self-centered that she couldn't even see my pain.

This wasn't parenting. This was berating.

I'd had enough of her—of this world.

The only place where I didn't feel like I was jumping out my skin was in Brooklyn—with Edward.

My safe haven.

I made my way to the door and opened it. "Mother, I'm going to need you to leave."

My mother glared at me. Her eyes bore into my own. Both sets of eyes said different things. Mine shone with hurt, betrayal, and sadness. Hers exuded resentment, shock, and disgust.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she challenged, still standing with her glass in hand.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, opening the door wider.

Footsteps padded across the carpeted floor. "Isabella, what the hell is the matter with you?" The sound of glass against mahogany echoed through the room. I was surprised it hadn't shattered given the force with which she set it down. "What has gotten into you?" she spat as she grabbed my arm.

That was it. My eyes flew open. "A lot is the matter, Mother," I stressed, yanking my arm out of her grasp. "A lot is the matter with me. With you." I jerked my chin in her direction. Now it was my turn to be disgusted.

"What?" Renee started but I had to say my piece. Renee stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, outraged.

"I'm so sick of pretending to be your Isabella," I barked and then took a deep breath. Grabbing the edge of the door, I fumed. "But you don't want to hear about any of it, do you? You're okay with going on with life as though nothing has happened. But shit did happen, Mom."

"You think you know everything there is to know about me? News flash, you don't. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date to get ready for!" I ranted, giving her just enough time to get out of the way before I shut the door on her.

"A date?" she called from the other side of the door. "Who are you dating? It better not be that bartender," Renee warned.

I had a date—sure it was with Bravo and Ben and Jerry's, but I was happy to let her think otherwise.

A/N: Soooo what are everyone's thoughts? Next chapter is a very fun one;)