A/N- Can't say enough about those of you who reviewed....it fuels our manic fire. Please keep them coming! As always....none of this would be possible without our FANTASTIC beta... off-the-deep-end. Read on!
***
It feels forced.
"We're working with the school to renovate an old classroom into a music space and we already have some great instruments donated, so its really just about how much more we can give these kids. That's what tonight is about," I gush. My cheeks hurt from forcing a smile most of the night, but I held it in place. The words are like second nature, I don't have to think them through, but nothing is coming as easily to me tonight.
I want to blame it on the fact the I didn't get a chance to meet with all the bands before the event started or that I couldn't find my lucky heels and am therefore wearing a hardly lucky replacement, but why lie to myself?
My eyes flit towards the door again and I grit my teeth preparing myself for the inner scolding that I am about to unleash on myself. There isn't anyone else you should be watching for. The bands are all here, the caterers showed up on time for once, and requisite friends are all present. Yet my eyes ache from the constant travel back and forth.
"You're doing great things Ms. Swan, I'm happy to help in any way I can," Mr. Finch states. I release the breath I was holding and smile genuinely. I shake his hand and send him off in the direction of Angela. I watch his path across the crowded room and feel a small sense of accomplishment as she hands over the paperwork. At least I am not ruining this event. It wouldn't be fair to everyone else who worked so hard.
I sink back towards the bar ready to take a break. There's really no point in watching the door any longer. The official hours of the event have ended. The musicians on the stage are playing out of sheer amusement and most people are lingering to ride out a buzz.
"You want anything?"
I glance back at the bartender and bite my lip. I really shouldn't I am here to work. My eyes flit back to the still door and the thinning party. Why not?
"White wine?" He nods and reaches below the bar. One won't hurt. I pull the drink to my lips and take a long sip. My chest heaves with the weight of a sigh and I let my mind unwind. Instantly, everything I have been trying to keep at bay rushes forward.
He didn't come. Not that he said he would. The way he looked at the invite and his general warm demeanor should have made this obvious. And still I hoped. Damn hope. Why? Why would I want him here? He would stand out like a sore thumb with his tie and shiny shoes. I can just see him hugging the wall to avoid brushing shoulders with anyone.
I take another long sip and try to shake him from my head. The music blares to life again and I smile to see a cluster of different members from different bands playing around on stage. My wine is gone and refilled before I can talk myself out of it and I lean back against the bar and enjoy. The room grows warm and increasingly friendly. The smile on my face relaxes and I realize that despite everything else this was a success and that feels good.
"Can I buy you another?" The voice breaks into my self-congratulations and I'm agitated until I realize that I could use a refill. I nod my answer and keep my eyes on the stage. The drink is replaced in my hand I force myself to look at the provider. He's short, but I can't see much else in the dim light.
Rejection pads his chances and I let him sidle up next to me and ignore his lingering gaze on my face. When I can feel his breath on my cheek I turn my eyes towards him again.
"Thanks so much for the wine," I say hoping to dismiss him with my words. He smiles toothily and I try to reply. Nope, don't have it in me. I try to nonchalantly push my stool away from him, but he follows.
"This was a really fantastic event," He begins. I nod and pull the glass to my lips again. I sigh and look towards Angela who is gathering all the paperwork and pushing Jacob out the door with arms full of our future. I smile at the thought and my new friend next to me thinks it's meant for him.
"It looks like everything is wrapping up….so thanks for the drink." I barely get the words out before he's pushed his lips into mine. I can taste the alcohol on his breath and I pull back before he can push his tongue into my mouth.
"You ready, Iz?" I glare up at Emmett who has chosen now and not two minutes ago to play the rescue card. I jump up from the stool and press myself into Emmett's side.
"Thanks again for the drinks!" I say before tugging Emmett towards the door. I can feel him shake with laughter next to me. I smack his arm and fail and trying to pull him faster.
"22 ½ already, Iz?" he asks breathless from his damn laughing. I roll my eyes and grit my teeth.
"There can't be halves Emmett," I chide.
"Oh I beg to argue. Did you see him? He was definitely ½. Plus he didn't get past the lips so, yeah, 22 ½ he is," he decides. The outside air clears my head and ushers in the exhaustion. I lean heavily on Emmett and wish for my bed. I want this all behind me. 22 ½, too many white wines and the stupid pencil neck with the shiny shoes.
***
I run my thumb along the corner of the invitation in my pocket. A dentist appointment? I actually told her that I couldn't go to the party because I had a dentist appointment. At 8 on a Friday night. I'm an asshole. A stupid asshole.
The stupidest part being that I'm still actually considering it.
I let myself into the apartment and cringe at the smell and the smoke coming from the kitchen.
"Hannah?" I call out and drop my briefcase on the floor before I kick my shoes off and un-tuck my shirt. "Hannah?"
"In here."
I walk into the kitchen and she's waving a towel over the smoke detector with a frustrated look on her face. "What're you doing?"
I open the fridge and grab a beer. "Well, I managed to save the chicken I just don't want the alarm to go off," she tells me. I walk over to the window and push it up, letting the cool air in and take a deep drink from my beer. "Oh, Edward, don't drink that right now it'll ruin your appetite."
"I ate a late lunch at work actually," I lie because I can't bare the thought of putting another piece of her botched chicken in my mouth.
She frowns. "You're just gonna get hungry later and you're not supposed to eat late. It's bad for you."
"I'll be okay." I step closer to her and lean in to place a light kiss on her lips. She smiles briefly before she pulls away. "How was your day?" I ask.
"Nothing worth noting. How was yours?"
I watch her cut the inevitably dry chicken and take another drink from my beer. She's so methodical about everything. Every movement is perfect, every strand of hair is in place, and her clothes are never wrinkled. I don't think I've ever seen her in any sort of casual, relaxed outfit.
"I told you about that new account I picked up, right?"
Her eyes narrow as she starts slicing a tomato. "I think so."
I know I told her about it last night when I got home, but I won't press. "It's the craziest work environment. Today they handed me a metal He-man lunchbox filled with wrinkled papers of their accounts." I shake my head and cover my laugh with the beer.
She makes an unpleasant sound and then turns to look at me with disgust on her face. "What kind of person runs that place?" she asks, sitting down at the counter with a spritzer. I stopped asking her why she wouldn't let herself indulge in one full glass of wine once a week. She says they're too fattening. "Honestly, Edward, don't you think you're slightly overqualified?"
I clear my throat and lean against the counter. "Not really, no."
"For god's sake, you're working in a zoo. What kind of mature, self-respecting, business woman keeps her finances in Incredible Hulk lunch boxes?"
"It was He-man," I mumble, fighting the urge to defend Bella, knowing Hannah would never understand.
"What?" she asks.
"Never mind." I lean over and try to grab a slice of tomato from her plate, but she slaps the back of my hand once and hard. I snatch it back.
"I swear to god you have some of the worst manners," she says and puts the tomato into her mouth. "You don't just stick your dirty hand on somebody else's plate, Edward. If you want something, ask."
I clench my jaw and slide off the stool. "Sorry. I'm gonna go take a shower."
I walk into the bedroom where the bed has been perfectly made and the ugly, useless pillows are perfectly aligned on top of the comforter again, and sigh. Sometimes, when things are perfect all the time, I develop this huge anxiety because I'm so afraid of messing them up.
I take the ring out of my pocket first and slip it into the Advil bottle before I pull the invitation out. I stare at it for a moment and fight the urge to bring it to my nose to see if any of her coconut is lingering there on the small sheet. I can't help it. I stare at the invitation until my eyes tear up and I smile when I think of Bella. And part of me wishes I was strong enough to go to her.
***
I love being at the office first; the feeling of turning everything on and starting it all up for the day. The soft hum that I can hear only when no one else is there. I flip the switch on my computer and sink into my chair. The hum urges my eyes closed and I obey the urge.
My breathing evens out and I can almost feel my subconscious expelling all the shit that built up over the weekend. Breath in, pencil neck not coming to the event out. Breath in, 22 ½ out. Breath in, Emmett's endless teasing out. Already I feel so much lighter.
It's funny how work can bring me so much peace and relaxation when for most people it's the opposite. I sink deeper into the chair, slumping my shoulders as I fully let go. I might have ended up as a puddle of goo on the ground had the door knob not turned at the exact moment.
The door scrapes along the floor as its pushed open and I open one eye to witness the intruder. I expect Angela, maybe Jacob. Instead I see the unruly hair and striped tie. Fantastic. There goes my Zen.
I don't move from my position as he pushes the door closed behind him and rearranges everything in his hands. And he's carrying a lot. I fight the urge to rush over and offer to help. It will be my small moment of anger against a man who really did nothing wrong. After all, he did say he wasn't coming.
He finally gets everything in place and looks up. I straighten a little in my chair, which has become his chair, as he makes eye contact. I smile only slightly, fearing anything else might scare him off.
"Morning." My voice comes out so slight I'm not sure if he heard me. He walks slowly towards me like he is scared I might spook as well. This causes my smile to widen slightly. When he reaches me he sets a cup down in front of me.
"Chai latte, I think it was," he states almost proudly. I stare at the cup and only break my gaze to look up at him. Why would he have remembered that? It makes me want to think things about him that I can't, I won't. But despite my efforts I feel my insides warm slightly and I know this could be bad.
"Thanks," I stammer. He nods his response and looks at me expectantly. I keep my eyes locked on his. I keep my breathing even and let myself relax again. This is going to be disastrous. He taps his foot slightly and breaks our stare to glance at the desk which is still covered by the contents of He-man's lunchbox. Shit I am in his seat.
I scramble from the chair and feel a little anxiety settle back in. Good, too much comfort leads down paths I don't like to take. His hand reaches into his pocket before he side steps towards the chair. What the hell does he have in that pocket? I fix my stare there until I realize that it's too close to another area.
I drag my eyes back to his and smile forcedly. He clears his throat and slides into the chair.
"How was your party? I'm sorry I couldn't make it," he says. It should be regarded as harmless small talk, but it instantly brings back the small weight I had just expelled. I take another deep breath and try to push it back out, but it's lodged firmly in my chest.
"It was very successful. We were able to raise all the money we need and a little extra," I reply. He gets business Izzy today. People who bail on perfectly good parties don't get friendly, smiley Izzy. Even if they did bring a chai latte. I bring the mentioned drink to my lips and sip. It fills my mouth and I sigh. How did he know to have it sweetened?
He bobs his head and begins to unload the briefcase I didn't see him carry in. I ease away from the desk just as the clamor in the stairwell announces the rest of my team. I need them right now; I need to be completely lost in work right now.
"Jacob, drag your ass up here. I do not care that you think you sprained your thumb. I don't even think that's possible." Angela's last words are muttered as she pushes the door fully open and props it that way. Several notebooks balance in her outstretched arms and I don't hesitate to rush to help her. She after all came to the party. Not that she had a choice.
"Good morning?" I ask her. She smiles widely and her enthusiasm seeps into to me. The desk in the corner and its occupant leave my mind as she fills it with our shared passion and work. I sink into the bean bag next to her desk and serve as her extra desk space holding out my arms willing to be used as she organizes.
Jacob enters the room with a huff and I can't help but laugh at his red face. He tries to scowl at me, but it doesn't work as he tosses his part of the paperwork onto the desk effectively ruining all of Angela's progress. She growls at him and he smirks happy with the result. I lean back and laugh, really laugh, now that they are not paying any attention to me.
"Just go to your damn class Jacob and don't bother coming back here today unless you plan to grovel to what you just did," she hisses at him. This just furthers my laughter. Soon I can't even catch my breath and both Angela and Jacob have stopped their bickering to just stare at me. I try to wave off their attention with my hand, but it does nothing.
Once again I focus on my breathing and slowly regain my sanity. I wipe moisture from under my eyes and smile at them.
"I don't know what happened before you got here, but I really needed that today, so thanks," I offer. Jacob shrugs before throwing his backpack over his shoulder and leaving. Angela refocuses on the paperwork, but slower.
"Did something happen this weekend?" she asks. It's meant to sound nonchalant, but I can hear her curiosity.
"I really don't want to talk about in Ang," I warn. And like the good friend she is, she simply nods and lets it go.
***
I tap my pen against the desk and try to pay attention to the numbers I'm calculating. But I've been doing this kind of work for years and it rarely require 100 percent of my attention. So 20 percent of my brain is focused on everything that it shouldn't be. Like coconuts. And things that look like coconuts on the female anatomy. And the way her eyes lit up when I handed her that stupid Chai drink that she seems to love so much.
I don't know what possessed me really, but on my way here I passed a Starbucks and then I turned back around and went inside. Starbucks in the morning is more of a madhouse than this place is. But seeing her face light up when I handed it to her made the minor headache it induced worth it.
She's been running around all morning, talking and laughing with everyone about the party, ignoring me. Well, maybe ignoring me is a bit extreme seeing as how she has no reason really to talk to me. But still. With the exception of the Chai exchange she isn't even looking at me today.
Maybe that's a good thing—that she isn't looking at me, that is, because I've been all but leering at her today. Her hair is pulled back and she's not wearing any makeup. Not that I have anything against makeup—Hannah has a 15 minute regiment in the morning with hers and it always looks amazing, but there's just something to be said about someone that can go out without any on.
What am I even thinking about right now?
I run my fingers through my hair even though Hannah always tells me not to because it makes me look sloppy and unprofessional afterwards. I have to stop thinking about this woman that runs around humming country music to herself while she works.
"Everything okay, Edward?"
I jump at the unexpected sound of my name and worry for a second that I've been speaking out loud to myself. But I haven't done that in years. I look up at Angela and give her my best confused look.
"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" I ask.
She shrugs. "You're staring at those papers like they just told you a tortoise is conducting the express train."
What? And she laughs at the obvious confusion on my face. As if I'm the crazy one making references to talking receipts and tortoise train conductors.
I clear my throat. "Actually, I'm trying to figure out what I should file this under," I tell her, ignoring her statement entirely.
"Let's see." She comes and leans over me and hums quietly for a moment before lifting her head. "Izzy!" I jerk in shock at the obnoxiously loud sound of her voice. I'll be lucky if she didn't just severely damage my left ear drum. "Izzy! Edward needs your help."
I rub my forehead before I look up at Bella who's walking rather slowly towards us. When she finally reaches the desk she offers a polite smile and says, "You called?"
"Yeah," Angela answers. "Edward's trying to figure out what category he should put the laundry bill for your lingerie under."
I cough. I hadn't even realized that the items listed were underwear. She laughs and grabs it from my hand before I can take a closer look. "Probably under my bed with the rest of my lost receipts. This is mine. Sorry 'bout that, Edward."
Am I blushing?
I clear my throat and shake my head. "It's alright."
"Well, let me know if you need anything else," she says and saunters away arm in arm with Angela. I slip my hand into my pocket and feel for the ring, trying to convince myself that it's probably best that I didn't get a closer look at the details on that receipt. That imagining what kind of underwear is covering her ass under those jeans is bad news all around.
I stare down at the numbers again. I won't look up anymore today. I refuse to.
I get about fifteen minutes of work in before the door opens with a bang and my decision to stare at my desk for the rest of the day gets shot to hell. But it sounds like Godzilla just invaded the office. The thing is, the first person I look for is Bella. Any normal person would've looked at the door to see who just slammed the door open so hard it probably broke wall.
And she's staring at the door with a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face. I break my eyes away from her to see who she's staring at.
It seems like Godzilla personified did come in for a visit. And he's standing at the door with his tree trunk arms crossed over his massive chest with a grin on his face. And next to him is his polar opposite; a short guy with greasy hair who's shifting back and forth nervously.
"Izzy," Godzilla calls out, his voice laced in amusement. "Kevin came over to the house to see you."
I look at Bella who's staring at the two of them with so much confusion on her face. "Emmett, how many times have I told you that the door is not an expendable item? Good lord. And not to be rude, but do I know you?"
***
Emmett's shit eating grin is freaking me out. I know that whoever the hell this 'Kevin' is this is going to be bad for me and too amusing for my ogre of a roommate. I glare at Emmett quickly and wait for 'Kevin's' response. He crosses and uncrosses his arms nervously.
"We, um, met on Friday night, at the party?" he says. I am amazed I even understand him his voice is shaking so badly. I bite my lip and think about Friday. I met a lot of people that night. It's part of my job to meet everyone.
"Did you forget something there? Or were you looking for more information about us?" I guess. People sometimes wait until later to donate or get involved, wanting the light of day and a formal setting before feeling safe about giving their money or time away. Emmett's grin gets even bigger, if possible and I want to smack it off his face.
Kevin looks up at Emmett who nods him on encouragingly. I will strangle him later for whatever is making him this giddy. Kevin takes a few steps towards me eyeing everyone else in the room warily. His eyes linger on Edward, who is leaning forward his hands clenched in fists on top of the desk. What is his problem?
"I was hoping we could pick up where we left off? Have coffee maybe?" Kevin offers. I feel my head pull back involuntarily. Is he asking me out? Where we left off? Kevin looks back at Emmett again and gets the thumbs up. I grasp out at Angela's desk behind me and grab my Chai.
"Already have some, but thanks," I answer taking a pull of the now cool coffee. I try not to wince at the taste. I glare at Emmett and watch as he slowly raises his hands. He holds up two fingers, then one and then….what does a bent finger mean? And then he points at Kevin…oh hell no. 22 ½.
"Then later maybe?" Kevin asks coming even closer. I am backed into the desk with nowhere to go. I look at Angela for help and she simply holds her hands up and laughs. Traitor.
"I don't think that's a good idea Kevin, I don't get involved with potential donors." It makes sense even if I've never used the line before I'm hoping it will work. He keeps moving forward. Damn.
"Then I won't donate," he answers. Ugh that one cut deep. Now I'm taking money away from the kids. I cringe and muster up words I don't like using.
"Kevin I'm sorry I gave you the wrong idea, but this is not going to happen. I would love to talk to you more about our program, but that is the only thing I am willing to speak to you about." I hope I sound firm and resolute. Kevin's shoulders sag and he begins his retreat. I feel bad, but bite back any words of consolation. I don't want to bring him back. But this feels like shit. As he leaves I toss a clock at Emmett. He chuckles one last time before slinking through the doorway. I will deal with him later. I fall back into the bean bag and throw my arm over my eyes. That was just perfect. Just how I wanted to start my day.
I feel a shadow loom over me and I almost reach for something to throw, but I can't even muster that energy. I raise my arm slowly and look up at the dark figure over me.
"I was going to get some more coffee and thought you might like another chai?" Edward's voice is unsure and it sounds odd on him. I nod and hand him my empty cup. He raises an eye brow, but takes it anyways.
"Recycle and all that," I explain. He smiles.
"How thoughtful of you," he laughs.
"Yeah well, I should do one good deed to counteract that fuckety fuck I just orchestrated," I groan. He chuckles again and then shakes his head to rid himself of the noise. He leaves before any more nonsense can leave my mouth and I'm grateful for his absence. This way I can sink into my misery and hopefully leave it behind me. And maybe he won't see me as the pariah I am.
***
I pull my collar up and duck my head as the cold fall air assaults my skin. I had to get out of there, had to get away from all of the weird things I felt after whatever that little fuckety fuck was. Fuckety fuck. I can't believe I actually just felt… what? Jealousy? I never get jealous and I especially don't get jealous over women that say things like fuckety fuck and throw clocks at people in the middle of an office.
I need the cold air. I need to clear my head of all of the shit that's been clogging it today.
I pull my phone out as I wait on another absurdly large line at Starbucks. This is my second time here in one day. I never drink Starbucks and I came twice in one day.
I hold down Hannah's speed dial and wait for her to answer.
"Edward? Is everything okay?" she asks but she sounds distracted.
"Yeah, everything's fine," I say quietly, hoping to maintain some semblance of privacy even though I know the effort is futile. "Just wanted to say hi."
"Oh." I can hear the confusion in her voice. We don't do this. We don't call each other in the middle of the day to say hi. How fucked up is it that my girlfriend thinks it's weird that I'm calling her in the middle of the day to say hello? "Are you sure everything's okay?"
I breathe out a laugh and take a step forward. "Of course. I'm not allowed to call to say hi?"
"Of course you're allowed to call," she says and I can tell that I've lost her attention again. "I'm just a little busy, that's all."
"Oh, okay. I was wondering if maybe you wanna go out for dinner tonight? Maybe for some Mexican?"
I wrap my fingers around the ring and take another step forward. She huffs in disgust. "Edward, you know I don't eat Mexican food. It destroys my stomach."
I know. I haven't had Mexican in months. "Right."
"Let's go to that Thai place," she offers.
I sigh. "I hate Thai, Hannah."
"You just think you hate Thai. It's an acquired taste. Meet me at Charm at 7, okay?"
I run my fingers through my hair and blow out a noisy breath. "Alright."
"Have a good rest of your day. And call me if you're running late." She hangs up before I get a chance to respond.
"Sir? Sir, can I help you?" A snappy, irritated voice interrupts my self-wallowing.
"Sorry. Can I get a large Chai latte sweetened."
She lifts an eyebrow at me. "Venti, you mean?"
God, what is with people today? "Yes, venti," I snap annoyed at myself, annoyed at rude Starbucks employees, annoyed at snotty pretentious names for coffee cups, annoyed at Hannah, and annoyed at the woman back at that office that I can't stop thinking about.
"Anything else?"
They don't have liquor back there, do they? "And a venti coffee."
I pay and with both cups in my hand I head back out into the blue skies and cold air. I want to just stay outside because the air feels good and the people rushing around me are enough of a distraction to keep me from thinking about the fucking mess that is my life today. But I can't. Responsibilities. And I find myself walking up the stairs towards the office again.
Bella's still sitting in the beanbag with her eyes covered but she seems to have recovered from that little incident before. I want to know who those people were but it's not my place to ask. I stop in front of her and clear my throat. "Bella?"
"Mmmhmmmm?" she says without moving.
I crouch down directly in front of her, eyes narrowing. "I got you coffee."
She lifts one arm off of her face to smile. "Thanks. I'm sorry you had to see that. I swear things are usually a lot more professional than that around here. Not that He-man would tell you that, but you know."
I smile slightly. "It's okay." And then quietly I add, "are you okay?"
"Nothing a little peanut butter and wine can't fix," she says. I nod and move to stand up but her voice stops me. "But thanks for asking."
I stand then and resist the urge to touch her. Not sexually just to touch, just to feel the contact because she looks like she needs it almost as much as I probably do. But I refrain. "Of course," I say softly. "I'll be in the back."