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Chapter 3 Moving On
It was shortly after 3 AM and I was driving the crew back to base. I had made it down to the parking garage around 2:30 where most of the crew was already assembled. We took our time restocking the carts; there was nothing worse than running out of needed supplies when working. Then we carefully moved everything back into the storage locker before piling into the van and heading back to base.
While I drove, I thought about the brief conversation I'd had with Edward Cullen after quitting my job.
He'd said he had a proposal for me, but didn't have the time to discuss it right then. He'd asked if I'd be available for a lunch meeting at 1 PM. I had almost snorted. Seeing as I was currently unemployed, my day had suddenly opened up.
I had been extremely curious about his proposal so I agreed to the meeting. He instructed me to give my name to the receptionist in the lobby when I arrived tomorrow and explain that I had a meeting with Edward Cullen. His secretary would make sure I was allowed up.
I sighed as I pulled the van into the bay. Everyone started getting out and walking to their lockers. I headed to James' office, knocking quietly.
"In."
James' head was down looking over some paperwork on his desk. The television was droning on in the background. Victoria was nowhere to be seen. I waited silently.
After a few moments he looked up at me.
"Victoria says you quit."
"That's right."
"Care to explain?"
"Not really, James."
"Listen, Swan, I need to know what the hell happened tonight – what got fucked up so badly that you needed to quit your job rather than face the consequences? Did you screw up the Cullen Enterprises account?"
I hadn't given him enough credit. James was smarter than I'd thought.
"Nothing like that," I lied.
James looked at me for a long moment. He knew I was lying. I was a lousy liar. He knew that I knew that he knew I was lying. There just wasn't anything he could do about it.
"Swan, if there is one little complaint from Cullen Enterprises tomorrow I'll personally hunt you down. Give me your keys and get the fuck out of here."
I deposited the van's keys on James' desk and pulled off my smock. Folding it once, I tossed it on a chair near his desk.
I left his office and emptied my locker of a hoodie and some loose change before walking out the door.
My mind was in overdrive as I walked to the bus stop up the block. It was just after 4 AM which meant I could catch a few hours of sleep before I needed to be up for my meeting with Mr. Cullen.
I wondered what he could possibly want with me as I climbed onto the bus. I surely hadn't made a positive impression on him. He knew I quit my job. If he were still planning on contacting Nomad Cleaning he'd just do it, wouldn't he? He wouldn't call me in to tell me first.
My thoughts drifted as the bus pulled away from the curb.
My life certainly hadn't turned out the way I'd planned. I'd had hopes and dreams just like most people when I was younger. My parents, though divorced, had always been supportive. My dad, Charlie, had been Chief of Police for the small town of Forks, Washington when he was alive. Public service had suited him. It didn't pay well, but he'd had all he needed in life: the small house he had inherited from his parents, a fishing pole, and a few good friends. My mom, Renee, was a sweet woman, albeit a less than stellar mother. We'd lived in Phoenix until my junior year of high school. When I was younger it had seemed as if our roles were reversed. I handled the cooking, the cleaning and the finances. Mom held mostly part time jobs and spent her free time flitting from hobby to hobby. When she married Phil she wanted to travel with him. They took off, following his schedule as a minor league ball player, when I offered to move in with my dad. My two years at Forks High School had been pretty mundane. I graduated fairly high in the class thanks to the honors courses I had taken in Phoenix and my terrific grades in my English classes.
My senior year English teacher had graduated from The University of Chicago and encouraged me to apply. She wrote me a glowing letter of recommendation and helped me build a portfolio of my best writing. She was confident, I was not. Time proved her the savvier of the two of us when my letter of acceptance arrived.
Though my parents were in no position to help pay for an expensive education they did all they could to make it possible for me to attend UC. Their commitment to my pipe dream is what eventually landed me where I am now. Dad mortgaged his little slice of happiness to pay the majority of my tuition. When he passed three months after I graduated with a BA in English Literature and Writing I was in no position to keep up the payments and the house was foreclosed on. The little money in his pension was sucked up by the bank.
Mom and Phil had been living on his salary as a Minor League ball player until an injury forced him out of baseball. He was currently coaching a high school team while mom worked various part time jobs. They were happy, but didn't have two nickels to rub together. My dream of attending graduate school to continue my education and eventually teach in a university was dead as the realities of life set in.
The bus pulled up to my stop. I got off and started walking the block to the apartment building where I lived. My steps were heavy as I approached my unit and unlocked the door. Last night's work hadn't been difficult, but the emotional upheaval of being caught showering and then quitting my job had tired me out. I set my alarm for 11:00 AM and quickly fell asleep.
My nervous anticipation disturbed my rest injecting cavernous showers and incredulous eyes into my dreams. I bolted upright when the alarm began to blare. Jumping out of bed, I headed right to my miniscule bathroom. Thankfully -- well, maybe not really -- I didn't need a shower. I quickly brushed my teeth and scrubbed my face until it was pink. After moisturizing I attacked my hair, taming the snarls that had formed overnight. Once it was smooth and straight I started thinking about the day in front of me. What exactly did Edward Cullen want with me? Certainly he no longer felt the need to berate me over last night's behavior. And if he did, he wouldn't have suggested a lunch meeting, would he? I just have the feeling that the impression I'll make at lunch today is important. More important, I was sure, than the one I'd made last night.
Determined now I exited the bathroom and moved to the mirror over my low dresser. I decided a sleek twist would be an appropriate hairstyle for my lunch. Gathering my hair I started pulling it back in sections and holding it with bobby pins. Once it was secure I considered my pale complexion. I rarely had a reason to wear makeup, but it seemed like today would be the day to pull out all the stops. After lining my eyes and brushing on mascara, I used my carefully hoarded blush to highlight my cheekbones. I'd slick on some gloss when I got to the office.
Satisfied, I went to my closet. I had exactly one outfit appropriate for today. A pair of low rise black slacks and a fitted white V-neck top with three quarter length cuffed sleeves and a patent leather belt. My only pair of black dress shoes completed the outfit. They were pointy, closed-toe shoes with a kitten heel. Anything higher and I'd be sure to fall flat on my face.
I put on my watch and the simple gold chain my dad had bought me when I graduated high school and I was ready. Grabbing my black purse I tried to evict the butterflies in my stomach before leaving my apartment. I was unsuccessful.
The bus ride seemed to take no time at all. Glancing at my watch I realized I was 20 minutes early. I didn't know how long it would take for me to be granted access to Mr. Cullen himself so I walked right into the lobby. I approached the reception desk where a slender blonde woman sat with a headset on.
"Welcome to Cullen Enterprises, how can I help you?" she asked with a slightly bored tone of voice.
"I have a lunch appointment with Edward Cullen at one o'clock," I replied.
The receptionist's eyes widened slightly and she looked at me with a bit more interest.
"Name, please?"
"Isabella Swan." I swallowed. The receptionist's vague interest in me had served to intensify the nervousness I was feeling.
She glanced down at a list of names on her desk.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Swan, I don't see your name on the list."
"Oh. Um…" I was at a loss. I guessed her list was generated yesterday and probably didn't include lunch meetings set up in the middle of the night. Then I remembered what Mr. Cullen had said when he asked me to meet him.
"Mr. Cullen said that his secretary would be aware of the meeting. Perhaps you could call her?"
The receptionist raised an eyebrow slightly and reached for her phone. I got the impression that she fully expected to be told to toss me out. She dialed the extension quickly and looked me in the eye while waiting for the call to go through.
"Edward Cullen's office." An older woman's voice sounded over the speakerphone.
"Mrs. Cope, it's Lauren down at reception. I have a woman here named Isabella Swan. She says she has a lunch appointment with Mr. Cullen," she paused, "She's not on the list."
"Yes, Lauren," Mrs. Cope responded, "Mr. Cullen is expecting her. Please have security issue her a passkey to the 40th. Thank you." Mrs. Cope disconnected the call without waiting for Lauren to respond.
Lauren's lips pressed into a tight line. Without looking at me she pressed another button. "Felix, I have a visitor who needs a passkey to the 40th floor." I didn't hear a response. She must have turned off the speakerphone.
"Please take a seat, Ms. Swan," Lauren waved towards a row of chairs. "Felix will be out shortly with your visitor's pass."
"Thank you."
I turned and walked to the closest chair, thankful that I had come right to the building after getting off the bus. The exchange with Lauren had taken over five minutes. I had just over 10 minutes to get to the 40th floor. A door near the reception desk opened and a huge man in dark blue pants, a light blue dress shirt and coordinating striped tie came out. He had a small plastic card in his hand. He moved to the desk and spoke quietly to Lauren. She answered him and indicated me with a wave of her hand.
Felix looked over at me and smiled.
"Ms. Swan?"
I stood and approached the intimidating man. He reached over to shake my hand.
"Welcome to Cullen Enterprises. I'm Felix. Please come with me, I'll show you how to use your passkey." He smiled at me again and led me to the bank of elevators behind the reception desk. We walked to the elevator farthest back. Felix held the card out to me.
"This pass is necessary to access the top floor of the building. This door is for the express elevator. Swipe the card in that reader over there," he indicated a slot in the wall. I swiped the card and a small green light went on. The doors to the elevator opened with a quiet chime. Felix and I got on the elevator. He looked over at me as we got on.
"While this elevator will stop at any floor it is usually used as an express to the 40th by people authorized to go up. Press the 40 button and swipe the card again before the light turns red. I followed his instructions and the doors closed.
I noticed his gaze getting more curious.
"Will you be a frequent visitor to the 40th?"
"Um…" I answered. I didn't think so, but didn't want to share my ignorance with him right now.
"I'm only asking because that card you've got is a temp. It expires at five tonight. If you'll be coming up here a lot I'll have to issue you a building ID."
"Oh. Well, I'll let you know if it becomes a problem."
"Sure, sure. Just ask Lauren to call me and I'll get you set up."
Just then the bell chimed again, letting me know that we had arrived.
"Thanks, Felix," I said as the door opened into the beautiful reception area I remembered from last night.
"No problem, Ms. Swan." He stuck out his hand again and shook mine enthusiastically. "It was nice meeting you."
"Nice meeting you, too," I answered. I stepped out and the doors closed behind me. A young woman about my age was waiting nearby.
"You must be Ms. Swan," she said, "I'm Angela Weber, Mr. Cullen's second assistant. He's currently on the phone, but said you should make yourself comfortable out here. He'll call you in shortly."
"Thank you, Ms. Weber."
"Please, call me Angela."
"Sure, Angela, I'm Bella."
"Oh, Ms. Swan, I couldn't. Now, can I get you anything? We have bottled water, coffee, tea…?" As she spoke to me, Angela led me to the seating area between the two desks. The second desk was staffed by a formidable looking older woman. I assumed she was Mrs. Cope with whom Lauren spoke earlier. She seemed engrossed in a ledger on her desk.
"Um, tea please."
"Sure, I'll be right back."
Angela walked over to a coffee service, which had not been set up last night when I was here, and poured hot water into a cup. I sat down on the couch and glanced around the room again. The paintings really were exquisite.
"Here you go…" Angela said as she placed a cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of me. "Cream or lemon?"
"Lemon, please."
She placed a small glass bowl with a lemon wedge and a caddy with different sweeteners next to the cup.
"Enjoy."
"Thank you, Angela." Angela smiled sweetly at me and returned to her desk. I squeezed a few drops of lemon into my tea and ripped open a packet of real sugar before adding the contents to my cup. A few swirls with the spoon and I took a sip.
The tea was good. I didn't recognize the brand name, but it tasted so much better than the generic stuff I was used to. I continued to admire the paintings as I drank my tea. There was one, in particular, that had my attention. It was a contemporary, abstract piece in muted earthy colors. I stood to admire it closer bending over slightly to read the name of the artist.
Someone cleared their voice behind. Standing up quickly, I turned to see the older woman standing behind me.
"If you'll follow me, Ms. Swan, Mr. Cullen will see you now."
I nodded and quickly walked to the coffee table to put my cup down. I turned and followed Mrs. Cope to the large set of mahogany doors on the far wall. Angela smiled at me as I passed her desk. I gave her a nervous grin in return.
Mrs. Cope opened one of the doors and preceded me into the room.
"Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan is here to see you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Cope. Please call Demetri and have him bring my car around. We'll be leaving shortly."
"Certainly, Mr. Cullen. Will there be anything else?"
"Yes, I've left a message for Ms. Brandon, but she hasn't returned my call. Would you please try to get in touch with her? I may need her assistance on short notice this week."
"Yes, sir."
With that Mrs. Cope walked from the room closing the door behind her. I turned my eyes to the large desk and the man sitting behind it.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Swan," he looked into my eyes and I felt captured by his gaze.
I nodded. "Mr. Cullen," I answered with a small smile.
"Are you hungry?"
I nodded.
"Wonderful, let's head downstairs. Demetri should have the car pulled around by now. We'll be dining at the Atwood Café. I hope that's acceptable?"
I'd heard of the Atwood Café, of course; however, I had never eaten there.
"That would be lovely." He nodded his head once as if my answer to his question earned me a passing grade on a test.
He rose from his desk and walked to the door. I followed a step behind. He ushered me through the door with his hand placed lightly on the small of my back.
Both Angela and Mrs. Cope were busy when we entered the reception area. I noticed Mrs. Cope catch Mr. Cullen's eye and nod her head indicating that the car was ready. Angela offered me another smile as I passed by her desk. I smiled back swiftly as we approached the elevator, which was already open and waiting for us.
Mr. Cullen pressed the button for the lobby.
"I must apologize for making you wait. My morning meeting ran later than I had expected and I absolutely needed to talk with someone in our London office before it got much later." Again he looked at me as if my response to his comment was of earth shattering importance.
"No apology is necessary. Angela was quite welcoming. I spent my few minutes in your outer office admiring the paintings. You've got quite a collection."
He nodded his head again with a small smile. I couldn't help but wonder what it was about our conversation that was satisfying him so.
"Thank you. I am proud of it."
"I can see why. The piece by Varel was captivating and so soothing." I looked up at him in time to see another nod just as the elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened. We stepped out of the elevator and proceeded through the lobby. I could see Lauren staring at us as we made our way to the doors and out onto the sidewalk. I was tempted to antagonize her by grinning, but something stopped me. That something was hope, I realized. Obviously I wasn't here to be berated for my behavior last night. Something was up and I had the feeling I'd be seeing Lauren again soon.
I noticed the car as soon as we stepped out of the building. A huge man in a black suit with wavy black hair stood next to the open passenger side door of a late model Volvo.
"Mr. Cullen," he greeted.
"Good afternoon, Demetri."
"Will you be returning to the office today, sir?"
"Yes. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Very good, sir." With that Mr. Cullen walked around the car to the driver's side.
"Miss…" I looked at Demetri and realized he had his hand extended towards me to help me into the car. Self-consciously I stepped forward and took his hand. No one had ever helped me into a car before and I was afraid that the unfamiliar gesture would make me fall. I needn't have worried. Demetri obviously knew what he was doing as I slid effortlessly into the seat. I smiled at him.
"Thank you."
"You're quite welcome, Miss."
With that Demetri straightened and closed the door firmly.