Dark Temptation

As usual, massive thanks to Leelan Oleander for being the PB to my Jelly, the Mac to my Cheese. Are you reading Around The Bend yet? You should be, it's fantastic.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

Dark Temptation

Chapter 5

BPOV

"We've been spending most our lives
Living in an Amish paradise
I've churned butter once or twice
Living in an Amish paradise"

Ugh! Asshole!

I had been driving down the mostly deserted road on the outskirts of town humming along to the music playing until I realised what exactly I was listening to. I hastily hit the eject button on my CD player and flung the disc across the bench seat of my truck toward the passenger side, where it bounced and settled somewhere between the seat and the door. Fucker thinks he's so clever, at least he got over his 'rickrolling' phase.

A few years back, I had been checking my email and followed a link sent by one of the girls I was working on a project with, when my ears were suddenly assaulted by the sultry crooning of none other than Rick Astley. As I hurled insults at my computer and the dumb bimbo who thought it was funny to 'rickroll' me, Peter strolled into the room and demanded to know what was going on. Much to my and Char's chagrin, the next 6 months had been full of Peter's attempts to 'rickroll' us. I drew the line when he rigged the damn doorbell to start playing 'Never Gonna Give You Up' instead of a bell noise, like normal people.

Char and I were forced to retaliate by hiding little animatronic Chucky dolls all over the house. For some reason, the big, bad vampire was absolutely terrified by talking dolls, something which was apparently heightened by the viewing of that movie. Every time he'd destroy them all, we'd bring new ones into the house. I was glad when he finally got the hint, ridiculously rich vampire husband or not, those fuckers were expensive.

Bringing myself back to the present with a smile on my face, I reached into the console and grabbed the mix CD I'd created for getting me in the right frame of mind for a night at the bar. Slipping it into the slot on the dash, I smiled to myself while turning onto the highway. We lived about 30 minutes out of the city, which was sometimes a pain in the ass, but mostly a relief. It was also a serious necessity when your companions sparkled like disco balls in the sun. For the most part, I enjoyed not having to worry about neighbours, and having a decent sized property, unlike the tiny little lots that littered most suburbs.

Are you going to take me home today

Ah, down beside that red firelight

Are you gonna let it all hang out

"Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round!" I sang along with one of my all-time favourite songs, feeling my enthusiasm towards a night of serving drinks to horny men and fake women start to rise. I loved my job for the most part, but some days it took me a little something extra to get me into the right frame of mind to do it well and enjoy myself while doing it. Customers can smell a fake smile or false enthusiasm a mile away, and it reflects in your tips, which ultimately is reflected in the establishment's bottom line. Happy staff make for happy customers, make for a happy bank account. I didn't care so much about the bank account, but I did care about running a successful business, and Electric Mud, my bar, was my baby.

~o-o~

After graduating from college I had floundered for a few months about what to do with my life while Peter, Char and I toured the country in my old beat-up Chevy. That truck had been a gift from my father when I moved to Forks to live with him, and I had cherished it deeply, dragging it with me from Washington, then down to Florida, and on to Tennessee for college. I knew it was on its last legs, so we decided to take it for one last hurrah before it sputtered out and died a final death. It finally conked out one muggy evening on the outskirts of Issaquena County, Mississippi.

When we realized that there was no rescuing my poor old Chevy, we hiked - or rather Peter and Char hiked while I hung on Peter's back - to an old blues bar about 5 miles up the road. It must have been providence when we walked into that smoky little shack full of people of all ages just relaxing, unwinding and enjoying a cool drink and some hot music on a Friday night. As soon as we crossed the threshold, I knew I had my idea. Peter smiled down over me and squeezed my hand and I walked up to the bar and ordered one bourbon, one scotch and one beer. The bartender eyed me strangely, but I just smiled and gestured to my companions with a tilt of my head, where Peter had settled down with his boots up on the table and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Peter and Charlotte looked completely at ease in this setting, whether it was a reminder of home, the deep soul of the blues band that was playing in a corner, or just the mellow atmosphere, I had finally found somewhere that they fit in. My heart swelled for them, and I realised that this was something I could sell. Dim lighting, dark wood, brass fittings on the tarnished bar and a well-polished mirror sitting behind the rows of bottles gave the place a gritty, authentic atmosphere. Despite the low-key ambiance, this place stocked a good range of mid- to high-end liquor. Instead of the cheap beers you would expect to see people in a town this size, people were sitting around sipping on fine whiskies, and drinks that were mixed with something other than coke.

There was a certain type of person who would be at home in a place like this, and that was the type of person I wanted to do business with. We stayed in that town for a week, and went to the same blues bar every night. While outwardly I was relaxing and enjoying the atmosphere, inwardly I was cataloguing everything, thinking about how I could adapt this concept to a bigger city in the northern states. On our last night, I approached the bartender, a big beast of a gap-toothed old man named Sonny; I had learned from our time here that he was the owner.

I told him my plan and asked if he had any advice. He looked me up and down, grabbed two glasses, and poured a liberal serving of Woodford Reserve Four Grain bourbon into each. Pushing one of the glasses across the bar towards me, he lifted the other and we clinked glasses in a silent cheers.

As I savoured the bourbon, Sonny cleared his throat and leaned towards to impart his wisdom.

"I don't got much advice to give ya, because either ya'll can make it, or you can't. But, I will give you one important piece of advice that will serve you well. Put your bar in your husband's name." I opened my mouth to retort to his statement and he waved me off with a flick of his wrist.

"Now I ain't saying there is much a man can do that a woman can't, and running a bar certainly ain't one of those things, but everyone from the liquor licensing board, through your distributors and your competition will make your life ten times harder than they would make his. That there husband of yours, he looks like he could kill a man without breakin' a sweat; people is gonna be too intimidated of him to give you a hard time, and your business will prosper as a result."

I nodded as I thought over what he said, it left a bitter taste in my mouth to give title of my baby to someone else, but I could see what he was saying.

"More'n that, make the bar into somewhere you would want to be, and you'll get the kind of clientele you want to be doin' business with. And don't ever stop working the bar, no matter how big your business gets, take some time to serve drinks, chat with your patrons, and interact with your staff."

Sonny smiled at me as he tipped back the last of his drink. "Now I reckon I've got some thirsty folk waitin' on me, so I wish you the best of luck and enjoy your evening ma'am."

I gave Sonny a little wave in thanks as I turned to rejoin Peter and Char at the table. We spent the rest of the evening talking over plans, figuring out where to go next. The next morning, we hitched a ride into Greensville and I bought myself a new truck; well, it was new to me at least. We had the Chevy towed into town so it could be stripped for parts, much to Char's amusement I nearly cried handing the keys over to the grease monkey working the scrap yard.

Despite my somewhat over-dramatic farewell to my old Chevy, I drove out of town feeling light-hearted and optimistic for the first time in a long while. I finally had a direction, a goal in life, and I was looking forward to the future. Even to this day, I'm damn glad I decided to be realistic and take a degree in Business Management, instead of going for the English degree I had always dreamt of. Where is an English degree going to get you; a cushy job as a weekend supervisor at the local Starbucks is where.

~o-o~

I pulled my truck into the small staff parking lot behind Electric Mud, and lit up a cigarette as I cycled to the last track on my CD. It was an eclectic mix, but it always served to remind me why I loved what I was doing, and to amp up my energy and my enthusiasm.

I gotta feeling

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good, good night

A feeling…

As cheesy as this song is, there was something about the rhythm that got my heart pounding and my feet itching to dance. I swayed around the seat of my truck, eyes closed and a smile on my face as the song reached its peak, then I tossed my half-finished cigarette out the window and got busy putting myself together.

I opened up the grey box sitting beside me on the bench and extracted the blonde wig; fitting it carefully over my pinned up hair, I checked the rear view mirror to make sure it was settling right. I looked surprisingly good as a blonde, and with a swipe of some bronze lipstick and a pair of large bronzed hoops, I was ready to work.

Walking in the back door, I was greeted by Dani who was carrying a crate full of bottles from the back room towards the bar. I waved at her as I tossed my purse into my office and followed her up front.

"How are you and Leanne managing so far? Has it been busy?"

Dani huffed as she placed the crate on the floor and started to pull up bottles of whisky, bourbon and other spirits and place them behind the half empty bottles on the shelves.

"Hey, MJ! It hasn't been too bad, but it's still early. The two of us would be fine just covering the floor, but there's no one here mixing drinks so it's slow going, and it'll only get worse as we get more crowded."

I nodded at Dani as I started polishing the tray of clean glasses and putting them away. "Yeah, I can see that. We're getting busier; I'll have to look into getting a permanent bartender instead of having a floater on quiet nights. Sundays usually aren't so bad, but I guess business is picking up for us."

Lee smiled at me from the other side of the bar. "Yeah, you definitely are getting more business, which is great when we have enough staff to cover it."

I frowned at her words, realising that I was pushing my staff too hard. "I'm sorry girls, I'm gonna start looking for some new people to help out soon. If you've got any friends interested in a job here, let me know. I don't want to have to have Peter in here behind the bar; you know how much of a disaster that would be."

"Or even worse, Charlotte. I swear, for all that girl is a ballbuster, a single look at her is enough to make a man lose his brains and do the dumbest shit." Dani laughed at me as she started filling Lee's drinks order, two Tom Collins and a tumbler of 12 year Glen Livet.

Having Char in here was a blast at first, but there was something about the way she looked behind the bar here that just drove men wild and not in a good way. They stopped thinking before they acted and between tastelessly trying to pick Char up, and figuring they could cop a feel of the other barmaids, we figured it was best if Char only came by as a customer. Peter on the other hand, well, he was just Peter and crass might has well have been his first, middle and last name.

"Thanks, girls, for calling me in, I'm sorry it took so long to get here, but you know we live in the middle of freaking nowhere. I talked to Stef, she seems to think she should be back on her feet by tomorrow; poor girl sounds miserable. Don't ever worry about calling me in on my day off, it's my bar, it's my responsibility. Plus, I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving the two of you here on your own at night."

After a quick pep talk with the girls, finding out who was in tonight and dividing up the tables, I started my rounds of the floor. We had about 30 tables and a dozen booths lining the walls, all focussed towards a small stage. On busy nights, we would move the tables closer together and clear a medium sized dance floor in front of the stage, but we weren't really a dance club so it was not a priority for us. The dark curtains surrounding the booths and the deep rich wood of the tables and chairs gave the bar the perfect ambience, since the anti-smoking regulations had passed - banning smoking inside bars, we no longer had the smoky atmosphere, but low lighting helped re-create the illusion. We had set up a small smoking lounge out back with a few tables and a view of the stage from the side, but not many customers lingered out there.

We often had live music playing, but so far we hadn't had enough of a draw on Sundays to bring in a band, though we did often use it as a time slot to audition potential new musicians. As far as I knew, we had no one scheduled for tonight, so we had the stereo on playing some Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker in the background.

I made my rounds of the tables, greeting some regular customers and introducing myself to some new faces. I made an effort to recommend that people try our top shelf liquors and spirits, not because it would profit me, but because it was something that people didn't often do. How often would you get to try a 20 year old single cask Laphroaig whisky, and truthfully, I sold my high end liquors practically at cost and my regulars knew it.

A few hours went by, with me travelling back and forth between the tables and the bar. Dani had settled herself behind the bar to make our drinks so that Lee and I could cover all the tables. It was just busy enough to keep us all moving, but not enough to make us rush. This was the pace I aimed for, as it gave me a chance to chat a little with each table.

While I wandered around my bar, I thought back on my earlier encounter with Jasper. He was one of the Cullens I truthfully didn't mind seeing. I hadn't been close to him in Forks, and even though it could be argued that he was the catalyst for all of them leaving, I truly held no ill will towards him. I had been honest when I told him that I understood that being flooded with the bloodlust of 6 other vampires was a hard burden to bear. I didn't exactly have anything to compare it to, but I could appreciate that it was truly more difficult for him than for anyone else. I also know that things would have ended much more peacefully had Edward not decided to overreact and throw me into a table covered in glass plates.

~o-o~

I had been truly devastated when Edward abandoned me in the woods days later, telling me that I wasn't good for him, that he was tired of pretending. I think what hurt even more than his callous words, was the fact that the family had abandoned me without so much as a phone call to say goodbye. Carlisle and Esme had been like my parents, and Alice was my best friend and sister. That they had just quietly abandoned me hurt worse than I could have imagined. I liked to think that Emmett was opposed to leaving, but he would have been outvoted and given no chance; I truly believed he was my big brother and would have fought to keep me in his life. Rose, well, I was indifferent about her; she hated me and I wasn't terribly fond of her either. I respected her and I was polite to her because there must have been some good in her for Emmett to love her so strongly, but her departure didn't really affect me in any way.

Jasper though, I hadn't given much though to him. I told Carlisle that I forgave Jasper, that there was nothing to forgive, but somehow I doubt that memo was passed on. The only real interaction I had had with him was in Phoenix, and it was under great stress on my part. I didn't know him at all; he was always on the sidelines. I understood that Edward and Alice kept him away from me because they were afraid of his poor control, but I often wondered if they simply underestimated him.

I had often been curious about what had truly happened after Edward drove me home that day, but that curiosity was usually overshadowed by my anger at the events that have unfolded since. I am still outraged that the same man, no, boy, who claimed to love me with every part of him; the same boy that I loved so much I was willing to 'sacrifice my soul', could so deliberately destroy me, and act as if it was some great kindness. I understand that he was trying to absolve himself of the guilt of what happened. He was upset that I had been a victim of their vampire nature, and tortured soul that he was, he decided that it was all his responsibility.

I always knew that there were risks involved in hanging out with vampires, but apparently Edward wasn't able to accept this. Truly, was there anything about me that he was actually able to accept? The poor deluded boy was in love with the image of me as this shy, innocent, and chaste little girl who held to his turn-of-the-century morals. In reality, that wasn't who I was. Yes, I was shy and awkward, but I was a teenager transferring schools midway through the year, I was terrified of not fitting in, of being alone in a sea of strangers. I was the new girl in a town where everyone's grandparents had grown up together. Beyond that initial shyness, Edward never truly took the effort to get to know me; he was so used to knowing everything about people from reading their mind that he just filled in the blanks on his own.

I suppose it's my fault to some extent-I let him get away with it. I was the shy new girl, and I had the most gorgeous and eligible bachelor at the school professing his love to ME. This was the guy who had shown no interest in anyone else, so I let him make assumptions. I smiled and let myself become the girl he was looking for, and I was okay with that, until he took his arrogance too far and crushed my heart 'for my own good'. I will never forgive him for luring me out into the woods and strategically shattering my self-esteem, for taking away my best friend, and the only true family I have ever had. Charlie is my father and I love him dearly, but he wasn't a parent to me the way that Esme and Carlisle were. And that selfish boy took it all away from me with no consideration; it was ALWAYS about him. It wasn't that I was injured that forced him to flee; it was that he didn't want to live with the guilt of me being hurt.

Internally I sighed; this wasn't getting me anywhere and I did not want to dwell on the past today. I summoned up my inner joy and let it take over, pushing my negative thoughts and feelings away to be dealt with another time.

~o-o~

I was currently chatting with one of my regulars, Jim, who had been trying to convince me to hire a manager and go back to school. Jim was a senior lecturer at the Antioch University in New Hampshire and had been pushing me to enrol in their green MBA program for the last year. I could definitely appreciate the program they had designed for an MBA in organizational and environmental sustainability, it just wasn't a skill set I was looking to enhance.

My chats with Jim over the last year had ranged from philosophy to business management to environmental issues to music and I had really enjoyed getting to know him, but he was firmly in the camp that believed that you couldn't be successful without a graduate diploma or degree. I lived more in the camp that believed a piece of paper wasn't nearly as important as the skills you had. I laughed and shook my head as Jim offered me a full scholarship once again.

"MJ, you know your skills are going to waste here, you're such an intelligent young girl and you should have bigger dreams."

"Jim, you know I appreciate the offer, but I'm happy here, and what good would a degree in organizational sustainability do me in running a whisky bar? I'm not going to franchise, so this is it, six employees is the sum total of my organization." With a pat on the shoulder, I left Jim's table to move onto the next in my section.

There was a man sitting at one of the booths who looks like he hadn't been served yet. As I approached the dimly lit booth, I nearly dropped my drinks tray as I realised who it was. I let my eyes rake over him, taking stock of his scuffed up cowboy boots, dark wash jeans, and a rumpled grey button down. His unruly curls were framing his pale face, currently forming an expression of surprise. What the fuck was he doing here?

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Are you fucking stalking me now? What are you doing in my bar!" I hissed at him and spun around, preparing to march back to the bar and call for reinforcements to escort him out. I was interrupted by a cool hand on my wrist gently restraining me.

"Wait, this is your bar?"

Things I had to google for writing this chapter (I like sharing this, it amuses me to no end):

Weird Al lyrics

Rickrolling

Boogie-woogie

Muddy Waters

Bourbon

Mississippi

Colleges in New England – can I tell you how enthusiastic I am about the green MBA – I mean I'm fail at business anything, but this is a fantastic idea!

It's also come to my attention that Idreamofeddy is the driving force behind this silly fucker of a Peter. I'm sure I was highly influenced by reading other fics, so I have to give credit to everyone whose fics subconsciously influenced my characterisation of Jasper, Peter and Charlotte. Bella is all mine (oh, and SM's). Check my favourites for some awesome B/J fics.

Oh and massive thanks to mzbionic my little sis, and dandiegoose my soon to be twifie, for listening to me rant and rave about this chapter, and then chatting about hair and family photos with me. Unfortunately, I didn't listen to any of their advice and you ended up with this chapter instead. Also, my apologies to Leelan, who hates the Black Eyed Peas with a fiery passion, I can't help it. That damn song gets to me every time!

You'll get some JPOV next chapter, I promise.