Disclaimer – All things Twilight belong to the fantastic Stephenie Meyer. But I own this Britishward. We gave America Rob so I'm taking back Edward ;-)
A/N – How excited is everyone about Breaking Dawn? I'm going tonight and can hardly think of anything else.
Massive thanks to all the new readers of The Search - thanks for alerting. Extra special thanks to those who also took time to review - I love to hear what you all think. Huge thanks to the wonderful Trip as always for beta-ing.
On with the show! I promised you the reappearance of Emmett.
BPOV
"So let me get this straight."
Even through the poor quality Skype I can see Emmett's amused smirk.
"You've been there less than three weeks and you've already saved your boss' assignment, then seduced him and then broken his heart?"
I groan in frustration but I'm also laughing a little because I miss Emmett and his teasing.
"Em, that isn't exactly what I said."
"That's how I heard it."
"I didn't save the assignment, I just helped a little. And I certainly didn't seduce him! You know I wouldn't, I can't. We were just a little drunk and things got...confused."
Emmett raises a sceptical eyebrow. "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?"
He pauses then, looking thoughtful.
"What's he like, this dude? Is he hot?"
I can't help but laugh. "Emmett! Do you seriously want to talk about the hotness of my new boss? Are you switching teams?" I tease.
But we've been friends for a long time and even as I'm kidding around I can feel the telltale heat moving up my face and I know Emmett has noticed it too. My mind involuntarily returns to the moment outside my apartment. How I was caught utterly breathless when his mouth gently brushed my throat. His large warm hand gripping my waist and sending tingles into my stomach...
Emmett is still awaiting my answer and looking more and more amused by the second.
"Yes, fine!" I relent. "He is fucking gorgeous if you must know."
"So why didn't you let him kiss you?"
I cast my eyes downwards. "You know why."
Emmett shrugs. We've covered this topic. It's easy for him to shrug; it isn't his life or his problem.
"And that's not the only reason anyway." I continue.
"What else then?" he asks.
I scoff and say, "You mean aside from him being my colleague and superior at that?"
Emmett remains stoic. "Yes, aside from that." He flicks his wrist absently as if to indicate how little this matters.
I sigh. "He's a manwhore, Emmett. A bona fide, run-of-mill, different-chick-every-week eternal bachelor."
"Oh." Emmett says.
"Oh indeed. So I won't be going there, for many reasons."
Emmett looks thoughtful. "I still don't really get why you rebuffed his friendship though."
"Look, can we just drop it please?" I'm feeling frustrated and thinking of Edward's face when I told him I just wanted to keep our relationship professional causes a wave of guilt to wash over me.
Attempting to change the subject I ask. "What's new at home, anyway? Any news?"
Emmett's expression turns serious and a little angry.
"You had a visitor." He says through gritted teeth.
I already know who.
"Jacob." I say.
"Jacob." He agrees.
I wish I didn't care, I wish I could pretend he doesn't exist but I can't.
"How did he seem?" I ask.
"Okay. Not sober, but in control at least. Better than when I last saw him." Emmett can't contain his wry grin. When Emmett last saw Jacob he was holding him pinned up against a wall so I would say it would be pretty hard for him to look worse than that.
"What did he want?"
"The usual - 'where's my wife? I need to speak to her' etc. etc."
My blood runs cold. "You didn't tell him I came to England, did you?"
Emmett rolls his eyes. "Of course I fucking didn't, what do you take me for?"
I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks."
"Sure, Bells. What you guys have been through is...tricky, to say the least but that doesn't excuse what happened afterwards and, man, add a bottle of liquor and that dude is fucking dangerous."
I remain silent. Emmett has heard all I can bear to say on the subject, many times. There's nothing else and he can't help.
"That face makes me want to bear hug you, Bellarella." Emmett smiles sadly.
"And unfortunately Skype technology hasn't developed virtual arms yet."
I giggle and grin at him. "Thanks, Em. I had better go anyway, it's late here. I miss you."
"Miss you too, babe. Night."
"Night." I click to end the call.
As I get ready for bed I try to push away the dark feelings that are threatening to creep in. I can't blame Jake for his anger and I never could. I brush my teeth and change into my sleepshirt. I peek out of the window at the street below. It's still completely alien; red buses, black taxis, everything new and different and strange. It feels like another world and I fear I don't fit in here any more than I did back in Washington.
Struck with a sudden burst of loneliness I force myself to close the curtains and crawl into bed. I know it's only been a few weeks and I haven't even begun to give England a chance yet. It's beautiful and fascinating and captivates my imagination. Sometimes I just wish I had someone to share it with. Sometimes I miss Jake.
I think of Emmett's words about Edward. Could I be his friend? I already know I won't be able to stop finding him attractive and what sort of friendship is that?
As I feel myself drifting out of consciousness I have a fleeting worry that tonight will be one of the nights I dream of Jacob and the shadowy forest canopy of Forks but instead it's bright green eyes and shiny bronze hair that fill my mind. For the first time, I dream of Edward Cullen.
"Greg's huge breadth of experience in managing small teams and large projects will be a real asset to Coleman's developing department. His marketing background is the strongest of all of the shortlisted candidates and I'm certain he will bring many fresh ideas."
Back at Volturi Seattle I didn't much care for audio typing. Demetri has a very monotonous voice and I would struggle not to fall asleep mid-word. He was also dreadfully disorganised in his dictation. He would flit around from one paragraph to the next, making me go back and find a different section to add to when he remembered something else. Confusing and frustrating.
Needless to say, Edward's audio typing is nothing like that. He is clear, organised and straightforward. Of course all of that is irrelevant really, he could be talking in riddles for all I care, as the main appeal is his voice. Spending several hours a week typing the words that drift into my ears in his beautiful British accent gives this PA plenty of job satisfaction. His tone is both rough and smooth at once, like sweet honey being drizzled over jagged rocks.
During the last couple of weeks the slightly false, "posher" accent he uses with clients slips more and more when dictating to me and as I listen now I think this is almost entirely his own voice - long soft vowels, natural and delicious. It makes me smile to think he is relaxing around me. I delight in the way he pronounces some words, and in some cases uses different words entirely to what I would expect. This makes me think of our conversation in the pub and I feel suddenly hot under my work blouse.
"During appraisals it is often commented that Greg has excellent control of his team but without the need to micro manage. He believes -"
"Sorry if that's a boring one."
Edward's live voice coming from behind completely startles me. It must be obvious because he chuckles softly and mutters "sorry."
"Not boring at all." I quickly say, desperately trying to remember the actual content. Usually I just type on autopilot and focus on the sounds instead, whilst imagining that he is speaking other words...
"Greg seems like a good candidate for this one." I finally manage.
"Yeah," Edward agrees. "He definitely ticks most of Coleman's boxes."
We chat about the assignment for a few minutes. Edward seems to like to discuss the details with me. It's not at all necessary for my role but I love seeing how enthusiastic he becomes when discussing his work and it's actually pretty interesting to hear more about the candidates we meet. Plus I like sticking to the subject of work when talking to him. It's safe, it's easy and I don't have to give too much away. By the natural end of our conversation though he is hovering a little and I sense there is something else he wants to say.
"So, um, I have something for you." He reaches into his pocket and hands me a flyer.
"It's for the Dali exhibition I told you about the other week. It has a little map on the back which I thought would be handy as you're new in town." He flips the paper over in my hands to show me and his fingertips ever so slightly brush mine.
"Wow, thanks Edward. I'll check it out." I smile.
Still hovering he looks the most nervous I've ever seen him. It makes me want to put my arms around him.
He clears his throat. "I'm actually going to be there myself on Sunday" he says, shifting from foot to foot. "I know we said we wouldn't hang out outside of work and that's cool. I just thought you might not want to go on your own and I didn't know if you had anyone else to go with, I mean you might have, what do I know? But I wanted to offer, you know, just in case."
He stops rambling and finally locks his gaze onto mine. His bright eyes are both nervous and irritable, but in an adorable way, as if he is irritated that he is nervous.
The truth is I don't have anyone else to go with and I don't really want to go alone. However, the thought of going there with Edward has my stomach in knots.
Taking my silence as refusal Edward lets out a tiny sigh and says, "Look, I'll be there about 11. If you wanna meet and look round together meet me at the entrance. If you aren't there, then no problem."
"I'll be there."
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but when I see his eyes light up I know I've done the right thing. It's just an exhibition. He's just a colleague. It's. No. Big. Deal.
"Great!" He grins. "I'll see you there then."
He heads back into his office and I wonder what I've done.
By 10am on Sunday, when I'm stood panicked in front of my wardrobe, I'm questioning the sanity of the whole thing. What on earth does one wear when they are going on a non-date, non-friend, purely professional day time daytime trip to an art exhibition with their boss?
"Clearly not a fucking sundress." I mutter to myself, irritated, and throw the offending flowery maxi I'm holding in my hand back on the bed. Way too fancy, plus it's still raining.
After another 15 minutes of deliberating I finally settle on my smartest skinny jeans, a blue vest top and a long black cardigan. I put on a little powder, mascara and lip-gloss but I'm careful not to wear any more make up than I would usually wear for work. I debate leaving my hair down but in the end opt for classy and professional so pull it up into a chignon. One last glance in the mirror and I dash out the door, convinced I'll probably now be late.
When I step out of the subway I'm greeted with my first view of the River Thames. Even overcast and drizzly it's pretty fantastic. The river is such a focal point of London; everything is geographically determined by it. In my mind it has always drawn romantic and historic connotations. I walk alongside it now, watching the hordes of tourist travelling along on red, open-top tour buses or queuing excitedly for river cruises. I'm delighted to see Tower Bridge is drawn up and I watch a boat pass under it. It's so beautiful and medieval-looking and I can't help but think of kings and treason and princesses trapped in the high tower.
Realising the time I dash across the river and begin to walk along the embankment. It's again drenched in tourists, not at all discouraged by the rain, and there are plenty of cafes and street performers along the way to entertain. I'm nearing the base of the London Eye and I can't help but stop at the bottom to look up. The view from the top of the giant Ferris wheel on a clear day must be spectacular.
"Pretty awesome, eh?" A voice says close to my ear. Not just any voice - honey and rocks, rough and smooth and delicious.
I turn around to greet Edward and the way he looks catches me off guard. I thought he was stunning enough in a suit but seeing him dressed casually does unnerving things to my body. He is wearing dark blue Levis, black Converse and an emerald green polo shirt with the top two buttons undone, giving me the my first look at the very top of his chest. I have an inexplicable urge to lean in and lick it. He has traded his grey wool work coat for a black, zip-up sweater, left casually undone. His hair is even more wild than usual, leading me to believe that contrary to how it appears he must at least attempt to tame it for work.
He is smirking at me and I realise that once again he has caught me staring. Jesus, no wonder the guy thought trying to kiss me would be a safe bet!
"Alright?" He greets.
"Hi. I thought I was meeting you at the exhibition?"
"It's just there." He gestures to the building almost directly behind us and I feel like an idiot. "I was waiting out front and I spotted you."
"Oh. Cool." Why am I so socially inept?
Changing the subject I ask. "So what's the view like from up there?" I point to the circulating glass pods above our heads.
Edward looks at his feet sheepishly. "Erm, I wouldn't know actually."
"You live here and you've never been on the London Eye? How come?"
"I'm, sort of, afraid." He mumbles. "I'm not really great with heights."
Edward blushes for the first time since I met him and I feel it all the way to my stomach. Cocky Edward is hot but embarrassed, vulnerable Edward is dangerous...
It seems bizarre that such a confident person would be afraid of what is essentially an overgrown Ferris wheel but I find it irritatingly adorable.
"Maybe one day?" I grin.
Edward shrugs, chuckling a little at himself. "Well I've lived here for almost a decade and it hasn't happened yet. But hey, never say never!"
Seemingly keen to change the subject he gestures behind him and says "Shall we go?"
I nod and Edward negotiates his way through the slow-moving tourists to the entrance of the exhibition. When we get to the ticket booth Edward insists on buying mine. This makes me feel a little uncomfortable - isn't that what happens on a date? But he insists and says I should see it as a "company perk" so I relent. I don't miss the slight smirk on his lips though.
Inside I'm quite spellbound. It isn't a huge art gallery or anything. Just a small exhibition but I have already spotted many Salvador Dali pieces that I recognise.
"This is fantastic, Edward." I smile at him and I'm rewarded with a grin back.
We begin going from piece to piece. It is quiet, with only a few people milling around so we can't speak loudly. But as we reach each new painting Edward tells me a little about each one, he has to speak softly and close to my ear and I work hard to suppress the shiver his voice and proximity invokes.
"This one has always been the most frightening to me." I say as we stand in front of Sleep. Seeing the original painting of the distorted sleeping head, held up by crutches, is quite haunting.
"Yeah it is creepy," Edward agrees, "but I kinda like it. I mean almost all of them are creepy really but this one is so symbolic. Apparently, it was about the Freudian ideas regarding dreaming and how vulnerable we are when we are unconscious."
I feel his eyes quickly move from the painting to my face and back again. "And that's really true, right? No matter what barriers we put up in our conscious lives, underneath we are all stripped back, vulnerable and resting on the thinnest and most delicate of crutches."
I look at him at the same time as he glances at me and we lock gazes for a second.
"Likely to fall at any moment." I almost whisper.
"Exactly" he replies, before clearing his throat and drawing his eyes away.
When we reach Dali's most famous piece, The Persistence of Memory, I can't help but feel a little thrill of excitement.
"You like this one?" Edward guesses.
"Yeah," I reply. "I know it isn't cool to have this as my favourite as it's the most famous but I figure it's the most famous for a reason. I love it."
Edward is watching me again and I feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I feel the blush sliding up my face and I beg it to retreat.
"It's my favourite too," he says. "I love the melting clocks. Time is fluid really so he had the right idea. It ebbs and flows, sometimes stretching endlessly and other times zapping way too fast. In scientific reality time is a quantifiable measurement but to us as humans no minute ever feels the same length as the last."
Edward is surprising me. Not only does he seem to be a lot more creative and philosophical than I previously thought but I'm also shocked by how similar his thoughts are to mine about these paintings. Unfortunately, the more I discover we have in common the more I want to run away. At least my mind does. My feet appear to wish to stay rooted to the spot next to him in this exhibition for as long as he'll let them.
"Exactly" I say, finally.
We continue to look at each painting and his thoughts continue to reflect mine with startling regularity. We reach the end and outside the rain is really coming down hard. Edward opens his umbrella and holds it over both of us as we walk back along the Embankment.
"Thanks, Edward." I say. "That was really great, and I'm pleased I didn't have to go alone."
"My pleasure, Bella." he replies.
He continues. "So do you have plans for the rest of the day?"
He has caught me off guard and I'm not smooth enough to think something up quickly.
While I'm hesitating he quickly continues, "Because I'm kinda hungry. If you are too I was thinking we could grab something to eat? There is some nice pub grub that goes with Garrett's delicious cocktails."
Calm down, Swan, this is not a date. But does this mean we're friends? My resolve on that rule is very quickly slipping. Okay it's just a lunch, no big deal.
"Sure" I say.
When we are still sitting and chatting easily in the pub at 4pm I begin to think friendship with this man is almost inevitable. Contrary to my first impression of Edward Cullen, we actually appear to have more in common than I want to admit to. As well as Dali, we have spent the last few hours discussing books and music and I'm startled by the similarities. He seems to be as well.
"I really should go now." I say, eventually, wanting to end the day before it turns into evening and before this drink in Equius begins to mirror the last one.
"Okay," Edward says and we walk outside. Edward holds his umbrella over us again but seems to be keeping his distance more than earlier. Perhaps he is thinking of the last time we walked down this street together.
When we reach my apartment again my heart beats a little faster thinking of last time he said goodbye to me here and I can't tell if it is from fear or excitement, or both. Regardless, Edward seems to have learnt his lesson, or at least understands the situation a little better this time; as there is a space of several feet between us and neither of us is making any move to kiss on the cheek.
"So...thanks for a great day, Bella." He finally says, eyes roving my face.
"Thank you. I had fun. See you Monday?"
"Yep, see you then." He turns to leave.
Without thinking I blurt out his name. He turns back and watches me expectantly.
"Edward," I say again, while I try to find the right words and suppress my innate awkwardness.
"I'm sorry about before."
He looks at me, confused.
"I was hasty and kinda mean when I said I didn't want to be friends." I explain.
"Oh?" I try not to let myself react to the hopefulness in his expression.
"Yeah. I think maybe we can, or we should. Be friends, I mean."
He gives me his signature smirk, which slowly turns into a happy, breathtaking smile.
"Bella," he says. "I think we already are."
A/N
I would so love to hear your thoughts, every single review is treasured, so please hit the button below and let me know what you think of the story or just tell me your favourite part of London/favourite Salvador Dali painting/any other musings.
Teasers for reviewers as usual.
You can follow me on Twitter now at AmbersPen; I'll be posting a few pictures relating to The Search and some picture teasers going forward.
Thanks, as always
A x