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Chapter 4 -- The Proposal

EPOV

I glanced over at Isabella as Demetri closed the door to my car. She had been gracious and politely formal in all her interactions with my staff so far. She'd also freely talked about the art hanging in my reception area and seemed to have made a positive impression on Mrs. Cope, not something that's easy to do. Lord knows she hated Tanya.

I was still a bit surprised at myself. The idea that Emmett had planted in my head during our conversation early this morning hadn't retreated at all. The idea of hiring an escort to accompany me to social events was absurd, truly. However, Isabella Swan seemed to possess the qualities of an acceptable 'date' for most of the social events that cluttered my calendar. She was pretty by any standards, Ivy League educated, if that shrew she spoke with last night could be believed, underemployed – well, unemployed now, thanks to me, and very responsible. Her concern for her crew last night demonstrated to me that she would be a trustworthy employee.

Her one major lapse in judgment, however, was discomfiting. Of course, everyone made mistakes. I wondered if I was making one right now. I would have to explain my proposal to her and that would be giving her ammunition. Should she choose to sell the information I was about to give her she could make herself a pretty penny. I was banking on the fact that she wasn't that short sighted. If we proved compatible, Ms. Swan and I could serve each other's needs, no strings attached, for the foreseeable future.

She remained quiet as I drove to the Atwood.

"Thank you for agreeing to accompany me today," I offered, hoping to break the ice.

"Thank you for the invitation," she responded.

"I'm sure you're curious as to why I've asked you to meet with me."

The look she gave me then confirmed my assumptions. She was curious; nervous as well. I knew I was an intimidating person to be around. I had a multimillion dollar corporation to run; I wouldn't be successful if I didn't exude a certain amount of superior self-confidence.

"Yes, curious would describe how I'm feeling." She offered me a small smile.

"Let's discuss it over lunch."

"Certainly."

So far, I found our short interaction satisfactory. She didn't feel the need to fill the silences with mindless babble and she was articulate.

I searched for parking as we neared the restaurant, pulling into the first spot I found, though we were still two blocks away. As I shut the car down Ms. Swan removed her seatbelt and gathered her purse.

I exited the car quickly and walked around to the passenger side only to see her already standing on the sidewalk. I frowned. She should have waited for me to open the door. Was it that she wasn't used to being treated like a lady or did she not think me a gentleman? Well, either way, this was an easily rectified situation.

We started walking down the sidewalk towards the Café. We shared a companionable silence while waiting at the corner. When the light turned green we stepped off the curb. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but as she stepped down she stumbled. I reached out automatically to steady her; my right hand going to the small of her back, my left under her left elbow, and assisted her across the street. She didn't stiffen or shake me off as we made our way to the opposite curb.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled when we were safely on the opposing corner. I dropped my hands and glanced at her. She was blushing brightly. Her embarrassment was quite charming.

"No worries," I replied as we continued down the street approaching the restaurant. I opened the door and we walked inside.

"Welcome to the Atwood Café," a cheery hostess greeted us.

"Thank you," I answered. "We have a reservation for 1:30 under Cullen."

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen. Please follow me."

Ms. Swan preceded me through the restaurant and sat gracefully at the table the hostess indicated. I took the chair across from her and opened my menu as she did the same. A quiet waiter appeared. He asked for our drink order and offered up the lunch specials in an efficient manner. She nodded as he spoke and ordered a club soda with a wedge of lime.

"I'll have the same," I told the waiter.

As the waiter left, Ms. Swan met my eyes across the table.

"So, Mr. Cullen, would you like to tell me why I'm here?"

It seems her patience was at an end. Understandable. I cleared my throat.

"Ms. Swan, as I'm sure you're aware people in the business world have a certain appearance to maintain." I took in her slightly puzzled expression. Whatever she had been expecting, this obviously wasn't it.

"I find myself in a difficult situation. As you're recently unemployed, I have a proposal for you that you might find interesting. But, before I continue, I'd really like to know just a bit more about you. I understand, from your conversation with your former employer last night, that you are Ivy League educated?"

Her expression was slightly surprised now, but she composed herself quickly and cleared her throat lightly.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen. I have a BA in English from the University of Chicago. While I know that UC isn't a 'traditional' Ivy League school, its quality is such that many people consider it an equivalent."

I nodded. Of course I knew this.

"Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to pursue my advanced degree as originally planned, and found myself dumped on the job market with a degree that is of minimal use when seeking employment."

Her confession was intriguing. I wanted more details but we had limited time today. I would have to remember to ask her about the circumstances that ended her college career when we had more leisure.

"What had your plans originally entailed?"

She paused as the waiter returned with our drinks and asked for our order.

"I'll have the toasted almond dried cherry chicken salad, please."

"And you, sir?"

"The pan seared barramundi."

"Thank you."

With that, the waiter gathered our menus and walked away. Ms. Swan was stirring her club soda idly, watching the bubbles race to the top. I cleared my throat and raised my eyebrow encouraging her to continue our previous conversation.

"Perhaps if I knew where this discussion was going I could answer your questions more thoroughly?"

She was right. It was time to bite the bullet and lay my cards on the table. I sighed.

"I must say that I was impressed by the way you handled yourself last night when we met." I purposely failed to mention the rather intimate circumstances under which that meeting took place. I'd seen many women in the shower and it never ended quite that way before.

"I found your willingness to sacrifice your own well being to ensure the well being of your colleagues refreshing. Noble, even. You quickly analyzed the situation in which you found yourself, made a decision and decisively executed it in a matter of minutes. In doing so, you saved yourself from an embarrassing explanation to your employer and maintained a lucrative contract for said employer. In short, you acted exactly as I would expect someone in my employ to act.

"Besides that, I was impressed with your manner of expression. You came across as intelligent and well spoken. Now that I know you have an English degree from UC I'm not as surprised."

"Surprised?" She arched her eyebrow as she looked at me.

I was slightly taken aback by her tone. I realized that I had inadvertently insulted her.

"I apologize. I made a snap decision about you last night based on your employment. That was short sighted and, obviously, well off the mark."

She was nodding slowly, looking thoughtful.

"Apology accepted."

I smiled. The waiter approached our table and placed our plates before us.

"Can I get you anything else right now?" he inquired.

I glanced at Ms. Swan. She shook her head slightly at me.

"Nothing right now, thank you."

As we turned our attention to the dishes before us, I considered what I had learned in our brief exchange. Her reactions to my questions and statements were above reproach. She hadn't even snapped at me when I insulted her. She had a better than average grasp on the social niceties, though I guessed she didn't often dine at places like the Atwood. My decision was made.

"Ms. Swan I would like to offer you a position at Cullen Enterprises."

A look of surprise came over her face. Her eyes opened wide as she looked up at me. Her fork stalled on its trip to her mouth. She appeared quite adorable, really. It was the first time I'd seen her shocked into silence as she seemed to struggle momentarily with a response. She recovered slowly, first blinking then closing her mouth and lowering her fork to the plate before clearing her throat.

"What type of position, Mr. Cullen?" she finally asked.

This was the tricky part.

"You see, Ms. Swan, as I mentioned before, people in a position like mine are required to maintain a certain appearance. Besides my professional commitments I have a vast array of social ones to which I am obligated. In the past I've escorted various ladies of my acquaintance to these affairs. However, with the current economic climate I find myself bereft of the time necessary to properly maintain these relationships. Frankly, I'm looking for someone who would be willing to attend these social events with me with no expectation of an outside relationship."

If she was surprised by my original offer she seemed flabbergasted by my explanation. I watched her face carefully as she processed. Shocked surprise had given way to calculation. There was a brief flash of… anger? Followed by curiosity until finally…

"I thought you said you were offering me a position at Cullen Enterprises?"

I had thought this through pretty thoroughly last night.

"Actually, you'd be working as an independent contractor for Cullen Enterprises. Essentially, you'd be working for yourself. We would not be providing you with benefits, sick days or vacation pay, but the compensation would be enough that you'd be able to provide things like benefits for yourself.

"Your duties would consist of managing my social calendar and allowing me to escort you to any and all events that would normally require a date."

My explanation had stunned her into silence. Shocked, surprised, flabbergasted and now stunned. I was really batting a thousand here.

However, she was bright; I could almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she considered what I had told her. She glanced down at herself deprecatingly.

"Mr. Cullen," she answered finally. "I'm sure that there are plenty of women in your own social circle who would be willing to attend these events with you."

She was right, of course. The problem here was that I wasn't interested in cultivating any type of personal relationship with the women currently in my acquaintance.

"Ms. Swan, as I indicated, I'm not interested in a… relationship right now. What I need is someone who has no expectation of a personal commitment. I need someone who will see our time together for what it is. In your case I'm hoping you would consider your attendance at these events as your job. I'd be relying on your discretion to keep the exact nature of our association private."

She nodded and then spoke, "Private? What will I say if someone asks how we met?"

Despite myself, I grinned. She had a business turn of mind. I could respect that.

"If things work out the way I plan you won't have to worry."

"I have a feeling that your plans usually work," she commented.

I could almost feel the atmosphere around us lightening. She wasn't unreceptive to the idea, she just wanted more information.

She continued, "I have no experience maintaining a calendar for an executive." I was glad that she was being upfront. I had expected this, however.

"Ms. Weber maintains both my business and social calendars. You would simply take over the social portion. She will explain how it works."

"So I would be expected in the office daily to work with her?"

"That would hardly be necessary," I explained. "Cullen Enterprises would provide you with a laptop and Blackberry. Our calendar software is loaded onto both so you could synch schedules with Ms. Weber from anywhere. You'd use the Blackberry to take calls from my office as well as to make calls relating to your work."

She sat back looking thoughtful as a busboy approached. The waiter followed. "Can I offer you dessert?" he asked with a detached professional tone.

"No thank you," she answered quietly.

I shook my head. He nodded once and stepped away from the table. Ms. Swan continued to contemplate. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket but stifled my curiosity. She raised her eyes to mine.

"Mr. Cullen –" I decided now was a good time to step up my game.

"Please, Ms. Swan, call me Edward. It would hardly be appropriate for you to call me Mr. Cullen in public should we be seen together."

"Edward…" her voice was just above a whisper as if she was trying my name out, but her eyes were focused on my face. I worked hard to stifle the grin I felt spreading. Victory! If she was willing to use my name she'd already made up her mind.

The waiter returned and laid the check on the table.

"Would you excuse me?" she asked, standing.

I rose as she did. "Of course." She looked at me with slightly widened eyes as she stepped away from the table. As she walked away I sat down and took out my wallet. Glancing at the bill, I stuck my corporate card into the leather bill fold. I caught the waiter's eye and nodded. As he walked to the table I glanced at my Blackberry. One missed call. Caller ID showed me that it was my office. I hoped that Mrs. Cope had been able to reach Ms. Brandon.

Ms. Swan returned from the Ladies' Room. I stood up as she approached the table. She didn't seem as surprised by my manners this time. She was a fast learner. She sat silently as the waiter returned to the table with my credit card and receipt.

I quickly signed my name to the sales slip and the waiter walked away.

"Edward, I feel it necessary to tell you that I truly have no experience at business gatherings. I've never associated with rich or powerful people before. I'm afraid that I'd embarrass you."

If only she knew!

"Ms. Swan –" I began. It was her turn to interrupt me.

"Call me Bella."

This time I didn't fight the grin.

"Bella, I'm sure you have better things to do than scour the tabloids, but had you done so recently you'd see that I've been embarrassed in public quite frequently. The last thing I'm worried about is my date using the wrong fork or ordering the wrong wine. Now please, take a moment to consider what I've said."

With that I rose from the table and made my way to the Men's Lounge. Pulling out my phone I quickly called Mrs. Cope.

"Edward Cullen's office," Mrs. Cope answered.

"Mrs. Cope, please tell me that you were able to get in touch with Ms. Brandon."

"Indeed I was, sir. She got your earlier message and said that she can be in your office today at four. I told her that was fine."

"Excellent! Thank you. I'll be back at the office within the hour. Please have HR send up a 'New Contractor' packet. Tell IT I'm going to need a laptop and Blackberry as well."

"Certainly, what name should I give them?"

"Isabella Swan."

So, is this where I beg for reviews? I've gotten some terrific feedback from my friends and Project Team Beta, but haven't heard much from the readers. Is this story interesting? Are you at all curious? Is it too obvious? Any feedback is appreciated!