CHAPTER 06
"So where the hell were you, Emmett?" demanded Mr Hale. We were sat in his office, Alice pressing an ice-pack to my jaw, while Mr Hale paced by the window and Emmett stood stock still by the desk, his eyes flitting from my face to Mr Hale's. I winced and Alice smiled sympathetically.
"Backstage, with Rosalie," said Emmett eventually.
"You left her on her own with that idiot Newton to make out with your girlfriend?" said Alice, incredulously. Jasper raised an eyebrow at this.
"Gee, thanks, Alice. Soul of discretion my ass," muttered Emmett, running an agitated hand over the back of his head.
"We will discuss that later," promised Mr Hale, directing his gaze back to me. "For now, we need to sort out this mess. Mr Cullen will be furious..."
"P... please don't sack me," I begged, suddenly fearful that I would be blamed for this.
"Isabella, this was not your fault," said Mr Hale, for once not looking quite as terrifying when his eyes met mine. "Our girls are supposed to be safe to work around idiots like Newton who think their wallet buys them anything they want. They are supposed to be protected." He glared at Emmett again, who ducked his head, looking a little shame-faced.
"I...it wasn't Emmett's fault," I stammered. "I got distracted and didn't get his drink when he wanted me to..."
"That doesn't excuse him hitting you, Isabella," said Emmett, quietly. "Though I do appreciate you sticking up for me, kid." He gave me a lopsided grin and I grimaced back. Alice removed the ice-pack and looked at my jaw.
"Lucky there's no blood," she said, softly.
"Do you think anything's broken?" asked Emmett.
"No, but she's going to have a real bruise there. I'm sorry, Bella, but I don't think you'll be able to work tomorrow. After it's come out properly, I might be able to cover it with make-up," said Alice, thoughtfully.
"Take Isabella to her room, Alice. Emmett and I have some things we need to discuss," said Mr Hale.
"Will he be ok?" I whispered to Alice, as we left the room.
"Emmett can handle himself," she said with a shrug. I glanced back at the door, as Mr Hale's voice rose. Suddenly very glad to be away from the office, I hurried after Alice until we reached my room. She closed my door behind us and perched on the end of my bed. "Bella, what caused you to lose your focus?"
Her sudden question made me wince, as I remembered those red eyes staring at me and I shivered.
"Nothing," I said, ducking my head. "I guess I was tired and..."
"Ok, I get you don't want to tell me, but don't lie please, Bella," she said, holding a hand up. I flushed, but she didn't look angry. She gave me a small smile. "When you are ready to talk, I will be here."
"Thanks," I muttered. Alice sighed and got up from the bed.
"Sleep tight, Bella," she said and left the room. When she was gone, I sank down on the bed, tears burning my eyes. James had found me...
"I told you I was coming for you, Isabella. And look how easy you were to find. Do you think they can protect you from me?" His voice in my ear brought me to full alertness and I gasped, but his hand was over my mouth to stop me from screaming. He leaned in close and inhaled deeply. "Ah that sweet scent. How was I so restrained? You are something to savour though, aren't you?"
"What are you?" My strangled voice was muffled by his hand, but he heard me.
"You know what I am, Isabella. Do not pretend you do not know."
His voice faded and my eyes flew open.
Rosalie had a bandage around her hand when I saw her the following morning at breakfast. I stared at it and felt a flush spreading on my face. To my surprise she got up and flung her arms round me.
"Oh, Bella, you look awful! Are you ok? Does it hurt?" Her hand touched my jaw gently and I flinched, then glanced down at her hand as she released me ad went back to the table to sit down.
"Rose, did Emmett...?"
"Not my fault the big lug has a face made of iron," she said. As realisation hit me, I brought a hand to my face to cover the laughter that threatened. Rosalie grinned widely, obviously very pleased with herself. "He deserved a slap after leaving you on your own with that bastard. Anyway, it was worth it to see the look on his face."
At that very moment, Emmett appeared at the door, a bruise already formed under his eye. He looked across at Rosalie and his eyes narrowed a little. As he crossed the room though, she held his gaze.
"Look what you did to my face," he said, jerking a finger at the bruise. Rosalie glared at him.
"Look what your face did to my hand!" she retorted, waving her bandaged fist under his face.
"Oh, jeez, Rose, I'm so sorry. Are you ok?" He took her hand gently between his two large hands, as if it was made of glass. He brought it gently to his lips.
"Emmett," she said, warily, looking around the kitchen.
"Rosalie, you told Alice. Did you seriously think she could keep it quiet from him?"
"Oh."
"Yes, oh."
Emmett gave her a meaningful look, but then looked down at me, sat at the table. He tipped my face towards him and winced.
"God help us if Mr Cullen sees that," he muttered.
"Is he back?" asked Rosalie.
"He's been back weeks, Rose. Surely you've seen him in the bar?"
"Emmett, I only see you in the bar," she replied, with a smile. He grinned widely, allowing the balm to his ego.
"Anyhow, I came to say that Mr Hale has requested your presence, Isabella."
"Am I in trouble?" I asked.
"Doubt it. There's only me in trouble at the moment," replied Emmett. "Come on, I'll walk you down. And I'll see you later, my little she-cat." He blew a kiss in Rosalie's direction and to my surprise she blushed.
"Isabella, I know that I said you wouldn't be working tonight, but something has... come up," said Mr Hale, after directing me to sit down in the chair opposite him. I had never seen him look so anxious.
"Sir?" I said, politely.
"Alice will employ all the skills she has to cover that up." He gestured at the bruising to my jaw line, which thankfully was not as bad as it could have been. Newton had been very drunk and the blow had not been as hard as I had thought it to be the night before.
"O... of course," I said. I would prefer to work anyway; at least then there wasn't time to think about James' presence the night before. Also, after seeing security so easily send them on their way, I felt a little safer being at Twilight.
"You'll be working for the manager's table again. It is a party of one and so should not cause any problems for you. Newton has been barred, so he won't be coming in again. And we are not expecting any difficult parties in tonight. You are to make sure your client is well served all night, but make sure you take enough breaks."
"Yes, sir," I said, politely. Mr Hale nodded, brusquely and sent me on my way.
"Good evening, sir, my name is Isabella and I will be serving you tonight," I said, glad that I had taken the painkillers Alice suggested, which had numbed my jaw for now. She had covered it well, I thought, when I looked in the mirror that evening. But just in case she had left my hair loose around my shoulders, combing it to one side so that it would cover the left side of my face.
"Good evening, Isabella." My bronze haired client looked up at me and gave me a crooked smile. "I will have my usual."
"Of course, sir," I said. "Will that be a bottle of merlot followed by a Jack Daniels on the rocks?"
"Just the merlot to start," he replied. When I returned with his bottle and a glass, I leaned across to place them in front of him and he suddenly grabbed my wrist and got to his feet. I gasped, but before I could drop the glass I still held, he caught it and placed it on the table so quickly I wondered for a moment if he were human. He brought a tender hand to my face, tilting it towards me, his hand impossibly cold, making me shiver. "Who did this?"
"Would you like me to pour your drink, sir?" I asked, trying to pull away from him, but his grip tightened slightly on my wrist.
"I asked you a question, Isabella. Who did this to you?"
"Please, sir," I said, as he moved his grip up my arm a little and his cold hand came into contact with the bruise there left from Mike twisting my skin the night before. I gasped and he released me abruptly, sitting down. Shakily, I opened the bottle and poured him a glass, spilling a little on the table. Hastily, I took a serviette from the table and wiped it up. He took a long gulp from the glass and then glared up at me.
"I am not in the habit of repeating myself, Isabella, especially not more than once. I have asked you a question and I fully expect you to answer me."
"I... I'm not supposed to answer personal questions, sir," I stammered. "It is not my intention to be awkward."
"I see." He swirled the remainders of his drink and then downed it in one, before holding the glass up to me for a refill. My hand was a little steadier now and I managed to pour without spilling. "Tell me, Isabella, whose rule is this?"
"It... it's a club rule, sir," I replied. He raised an eyebrow at this and chuckled to himself, humourlessly.
"A club rule?"
"Isabella, it is time for your break. Excuse me, sir," said Alice, taking me by the arm, to lead me away. The man looked across at her and his eyes darkened a little.
"She has only been on duty half an hour," he said.
"Yes, sir, I am aware of that, but she needs a break now," said Alice, raising an eyebrow at him. The man leaned back in his seat and fixed me with his gaze.
"Isabella, do you need a break?" he asked. I shivered a little under his scrutiny and found myself shaking my head.
"I'm ok, Alice," I said, giving her a small smile. Alice looked at me a little dubiously and then leaned in to the client.
"Please keep your hands to yourself, sir, or I will be forced to deal with you myself," she said. The man simply glared at her, as she sauntered away.
"Is she always so protective of you, Isabella?"
"No, sir," I replied, faintly, wondering what had possessed me to turn down the opportunity of a break from him. His golden eyes were fixed on me and I was finding it difficult to look away from him. He was silent for a long time, simply looking up at me and I felt a surge of relief that perhaps he had forgotten about our conversation.
"Would you like another bottle, sir?" I asked, when I had poured his final glass. He looked up at me and nodded, wordlessly. When I returned from the bar, he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back in the booth, catching me again with his strong gaze.
"Now, Isabella, I would very much like it if you could answer my question. You need fear no repercussions; I will not tell anyone."
"It was a customer last night," I replied, eventually, in a very quiet voice. "But it doesn't matter now; he's been barred and I'm alright. He won't be back."
Glass suddenly sprayed around us and I gave a squeal. The man had leapt to his feet again, brushing his hand off. As he leaned across, I realised he had crushed the glass in his bare hand. And he wasn't bleeding.
"Where the hell was Emmett?" demanded the man.
"It was my fault, sir. I wasn't serving the client properly and I..."
"Please, tell me you are not blaming yourself for some scum putting their hands on you!" he snapped and suddenly his eyes became pure black. His voice was so angry that I took a step back, my fingers finding the apple on my charm. As Emmett approached though, he suddenly froze and then shrugged, taking a step back, stopping any of the other security men from interfering. I stared, open-mouthed as they all deliberately walked away.
"Sir, if you would take a seat, I will get you a new glass," I said, trying to sound professional; doing my job, so that I could avoid the way he was looking at me. To my relief he sat down again and I hurried over to the bar, while another member of staff cleared the glass from my table. By the time I returned, his eyes were golden brown again and he was back in the nonchalant position, his ankle resting on his knee, arms spread across the back of the booth.
"What caused your lapse in concentration, Isabella?" he asked his voice soft like velvet again.
"Would you like me to pour your drink, sir?" I asked, avoiding the question. He nodded, abruptly, but continued looking up at me, as if expecting an answer.
"Isabella," he growled.
"I... I guess I was tired," I murmured, wondering why he was taking such an interest.
"You bite your lip when you are nervous," he observed. "And when you are lying."
With an effort, I took my teeth from my lip, licking it furtively instead.
"Look, Mr..."
"Cullen. Edward Cullen," he said, meeting my eyes, forcefully.