A/N: This is beginning to be my favorite story. I tend to write high school fics, and I'm so happy that I actually took the risk of writing a story that did not have to do with high school.
If you have read my other stories (Mainly S&CC and G&G) please take part in the poll on my profile. I'm iffy about those stories…and I have a feeling I will never be put back in the mood of actually wanting to update it. I have officially given up on S&CC and I'm starting to…not like G&G at all.
Please PM me or participate in the poll to give me your advice.
Summary: Isabella Swan is the one person to go to about love – even though she has virtually no love life of her own…until a drunken blind date lands her married to the sexy Dr. Edward Masen. Please read and review.
Disclaimer: Not mine
I'm very happy that you guys like it. Thank you to whoever recommended this to the communities it has been accepted into.
I'll update – generally – ever four or five days. So check back!
Again, Review Responses are found at the bottom. I love writing Review Responses – I like talking to the people who take the time to review my stories. So if you want a shout-out, REVIEW (yes, that is a ploy to get you to review. Did it work?).
And my RR's are fairly long and extensive. I love getting to know my reviewers. Take CONFUSED55 for example. She's one of my incredibly faithful reviewers and I love her to death for it.
And CALICO RAYNE. Does she, or does she not, have the best username? And the best middle name. For gosh sake – leave some good names for other people woman!
OH! And also! If someone can explain to me what this whole Beta-system thing is, I'd really appreciate it. I'm in dire need of a Beta – note all the stupid mistakes in my stories – but I don't really understand the system. Thanks!
B
A wise girl knows her limits. A great girl knows she has none. Ask your parents, call them once in a while, and they'll undoubtedly lecture you about the 'right' things to do in life and the 'wrong' things to do in life. But really…who came up with what's right and wrong? How did people suddenly know that it was wrong to leave your things behind and right to put lost things in the lost and found? Did a man with no life just randomly sit down one day and think, "What am I doing wrong?" and decided to write a mile-long list about what would be right and what would be wrong?
And if that had really happened, why did everyone believe him? Wouldn't it be possible for him to be out of his mind? Maybe he was intoxicated by a few too many vodka shots. Maybe he was high on air. Who knows? Why do people insist on believing what is right and wrong?
Personally, I believe there is no concrete right or wrong. I think every decision you make is your own, and no one can judge you for it. I think rights and wrongs depend entirely to the person committing it. Maybe something I truly believe is right is something that someone else would consider terribly wrong.
Who knows? With a world filled with seven billion people…how is it possible for all of us to agree on what we should do and what we shouldn't do?
I make a living by telling people what to do. I tell them when's the right moment to say "I love you" and when it's time to get the hell out before you make a fatal mistake, that could lead to a nasty break up and a horrible aftermath.
But that doesn't mean that they'll listen to me. When people go to me for advice, it's their decision if they want to listen to me or not. Maybe they will, and maybe it won't work.
When you get down to it, no one can tell anyone what to do. In the end, it's all about what you think, and not what everyone else thinks.
I was thrown into a situation where everyone could judge me – not just my friends and my family, but everyone who owned a magazine subscription. Anyone who had a television. They can say anything they want about me, but I am what I am…and that's something no one can ever be.
E
There was a possibility that I was going insane – which would throw my years of med school and schooling right down the drain. I spent god knows how long climbing up the hospital ladder. I was only twenty-four years old and I was thrown in a situation that could undoubtedly ruin my years of medical training and my image as the head surgeon.
Me. Edward Masen. The man who never got close to being arrested – the one guy parents would want their daughters to date. I wasn't the guy who slept with a girl he just met, and wound up marrying her. Especially if that girl was someone like Bella.
I'll never say this to her – or anyone else for that matter – but if I had met her on any other night, in any other situation, I would have asked her out (if I could muster enough confidence to do that, that is). That may not seem like such a big deal – but to me, it is. Ever since my relationship with Tanya ended, I've had second thoughts on whether I would settle down at all.
It had been difficult working out my problems with Tanya during our year relationship. I was completely focused on work and she was trying to get her life on track. We met and bonded because we had our own demons to settle, and we hit it off because we knew we could help each other.
Once those demons were defeated and laid to rest, we realized we really didn't have much in common at all. I wish I'd known of Bella's TV show back then – god knows her advice could have lifted our relationship off the ground – but I didn't, and I said and did all the wrong things at all the wrong times.
Simply put, our relationship ended fairly bitterly. I was in love and in over my head. Having the love of your life end the relationship is like having something ripped from your soul. All that you worked for in the past year, the one thing I looked forward to going home to, had turned into just mindless distant memories. No more were the days that I would go home to a pretty and happy dancing Tanya, singing to Taking Back Sunday while baking cookies.
No.
Instead, I came home to an empty apartment that smelled of beer and burnt toast.
It's been a year since she moved out. We ended things on a sour note. But a few weeks later, Jasper shoved us back together, and told us to stop being children and work out our problems. If those problems are settled, he said, and you two still can't be together, then you two should get over yourselves and consider being just friends.
So we did. Tanya was a little hesitant at first, but we gradually sunk back into our friendship. It was awkward at first – accidental touches would lead to wild blushes and words could lead to inexplicable arguments. Until Jasper swooped in again and told us the way it was going to be, and that we couldn't do anything about it.
So after a long hour of just talking, Tanya and I worked out our situation, and we now share a sweet brotherly and sisterly relationship. I thank my lucky stars every day of my life for letting my first love be Tanya, and not an insensitive girl who would go to all her friends and tell them I was a complete jerk.
You will never imagine how many times I've gotten calls from my previous fling's friends asking me, "It's because you're gay isn't it?"
But Tanya wasn't even remotely related to my problems anymore.
No. They were all about Bella.
Apparently, my doubts and decisions on whether I would ever settle down didn't matter. Instead, my decision was made for me – by vodka shots and Jasper of all things.
Why is it that Jasper is always the one involved in all my problems? And why was it that he was always the one fixing the problems? I was incredibly lucky to have a friend like him.
And I was also incredibly lucky to have the girl I drunkenly married be Bella. I know many people who would have taken our situation a lot harder than she did – although I will admit that none of them would have left me naked in the hallway.
Bella is easy to talk to, I'll give her that. But I still wasn't sure whether postponing the annulment would be the greatest idea. I personally thought the faster we got our problems solved, and the faster we went our separate ways, the easier the aftermath of this event would be to overcome. I respected her devotion to her show – but that wasn't enough to silence my doubts on her decision.
But I couldn't say that I would be affected more than she was – sure I was probably more successful than most of my friends by the world's standards, but Bella's career was right in the middle of the spot light. Any backlash this situation had on me, would be magnified ten fold for her.
A light knock on my door jolted me out of my thoughts. "It's open!" I called hoarsely.
Bella's head popped from behind the door. "Hey, Edward. Mind if I come in?"
"Yeah of course." I nodded, gesturing for her to make herself comfortable. She pulled her luggage inside the room. She closed the door quietly behind her and a smile graced her features as she sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room. "So, what's up?"
A lazy smirk played on her lips. "Check out was half an hour ago. I've been waiting in the lobby since then, until I realized that Alice and Rosalie had already gone home, and I was really waiting for no one to pick me up. And then I figured out that Rose had taken Alice's car and that Alice had gone home with Jasper, so I really didn't have anyone to call or ask to give me a lift. And then I remembered that you weren't leaving until later today, so I figured I might just hang out in your room until then – as long as you let me of course, or else that would be breaking and entering which is illegal in most states—"
"Take a breath." I laughed. "Don't worry, Bella. You can stay here as long as you'd like. I'll probably stay in my room too – I don't have anything planned today. The convention ended this morning. So, unless you have something in mind, we'll be stuck hanging out in my room all day."
She shrugged. "Anything's fine. I just don't want to lug this stupid bag with me everywhere."
I smiled. "Just leave it here. We can go out and have lunch or something."
She checked the silver watch on her wrist. "It's four." She said pointedly.
"We'll have a late lunch then." A thought flashed in her eyes. She leaned back a little, contemplating something. "What?"
"That got me thinking. Breakfast is the meal we have in the morning, lunch is in the afternoon, and dinner is at night. Brunch is between breakfast and lunch…but what do we call the meal between lunch and dinner? Linner? Lupper? Dinch?"
I thought for a second. "Overeating?" I supplied.
She threw her head back and laughed. "I wasn't expecting that." She snorted a little and covered her mouth. "Sorry. I tend to snort at the wrong times." Her eyes twinkled.
"It's okay. You should hear my hiccups. They're even worse."
"I'll be waiting for that, Edward. I'm holding you to that."
I nodded. "You won't be disappointed."
"I don't plan on it." She winked.
I leaned back on my elbows. "So, what do you want to do today?"
"I was thinking we could go out and overeat until we throw up."
"That sounds fun." I said dryly.
"It really and truly isn't." She laughed. "But I am incredibly famished. I haven't eaten since morning."
I quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I was up all night so I really just woke up. I kept thinking about the story we could come up with for our sudden marriage." She sighed. "Jacob already called a bunch of people in the hotel that may have seen us – and could pick us out in a lineup – and has gotten tons of sworn statements from them that we did not get married here."
"Why would they do that?"
"They would be imbursed for it." She said simply. "What people would do for money!"
"Is all that money coming from your pocket?" I asked.
She sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. Which is exactly why I need this sponsorship – covering up this situation cost more than I predicted, which ended in a greater need for some financial help. Without this sponsorship the show will still be fine, but if something happens and ratings go down, my show will be dropped. A sponsorship and the endorsement offers add more stability to it."
I frowned. "How much is this costing you?"
She thought for a second. "Two and three quarters of a million dollars I think. That's about how much I get for every 10 episodes or half a season."
That was quite a lot of money. "Why isn't the show reimbursing you for it?"
"Because…I am the show." She laughed a little. "I'd basically be reimbursing myself. But it's okay. Once this marriage hits the tabloids, the viewer count will sky rocket. I can smell it."
I shook my head. "Show business. I'll never understand it."
"It's really simple, actually. You just have to come up with ways to stay on top…not all of them legal."
I buried my head in my hands. "What did I marry into?"
She snorted a laugh again. "A whole mess of things."
"Hey, by the way." I pursed my lips.
"Yeah?"
"Can you give me Jacob's number? I'd like to talk to him."
"Why would you possibly want to talk to him?"
"He'll probably want to fill me in on what I should say if people were to come up to me and ask me about our relationship."
She contemplated it. She sighed and ruffled through her purse, before brandishing a bright red business card. "It's the color of our studio." She explained sheepishly, tossing it at me. I caught it and read the lines on the business card swiftly, before pocketing it.
"So, where are we eating?" She asked.
"Why don't we go downstairs and ask the concierge for any recommendations? They're usually right."
She mulled it over. "I guess that'd be okay. But please, no Japanese food. I've had that for three nights in a row!"
"That's racist." I pointed out.
"No, it's not! I just feel like eating something other than raw fish."
"Prejudice." I replied.
"Oh shut up and get my purse."
J
"Look, I'm not Alice or Bella so you probably don't feel comfortable spilling every thing on your mind to me." I frowned.
"So why are you here?" Rosalie asked, pushing her glasses higher.
She only wore her glasses when she was at home, which was exactly where we were. Three years ago, we had flipped for the apartment, and I had won the bigger apartment while she settled into this smaller yet equally expensive one. With the help of my friend Mike, she was able to decorate the apartment with deep, brown colors making it astonishingly homey.
"You know Alice and Bella love you, and would help you no matter what." I replied. "But I knew and loved you first because you're my sister, and you know I'll do anything for you."
Her lips were slightly parted, taken aback by my words. "O-okay?"
"So please, Rosie. If you need to talk to someone, just know that I'll always be there okay? Sure you can run to Bella or Tanya or Alice, but I know you more and longer than any of them have. I've known you since the day that you first opened your eyes. I was there when you set mom's eyebrows on fire. I held you when you cried after that stupid Friday five years ago, even though I never quite figured out why you were crying in the first place – until now." I smiled a little. "And I'll still be here if you ever need anything."
She sniffed a little. "God Jasper, now I know why you earn so much being a psychologist. You probably make your patients break down in your office."
"Not always." I smiled gently. "Just the terminal cases."
"I'm terminal?" She said, half joking.
"Not yet." I smirked. "But if you refuse to talk to any of us, you will be."
Her face blanked momentarily, before it was swamped by an emotion I'd never seen her have before. "I just need some time, Jasp." She grimaced. "I know I've had five years to talk about it, but I guess I figured I'd never have to worry about it again. I thought it was a part of my life I'd eventually forget. I didn't know that I'd end up having to spend so much time with him again."
"You know you don't have to spend all this time with him, right?" I asked. "Alice would be more than happy to take your place and negotiate with him."
She shook her head firmly. "He's my problem – he always has been. It's about time that I resolve that problem, or else I'll never be able to get on with my life." Her lips twitched. "And I guess I want to do it alone."
"Like always." I commented.
"Just like always." She nodded.
"What has happened between you two since you left Atlantic City by the way?" I quirked an eyebrow.
She rubbed her slightly puffy eyes. "Not much. I went to meet him the minute I got back, and then we chatted on the phone, working out a system that could reduce the backlash on both of them," she replied. "I haven't really had a chance to just sit down with him and talk about it. I think we're both too preoccupied with Bella's situation to talk about anything else."
I shrugged. "It's always like that. I couldn't have said it better."
"Watch out, Jasp. I might just take your job." She winked.
"Nah, as much as I love you little sister, I would never let that happen."
She smiled. "I miss just talking to you like this. I wish you'd come over as my brother more, instead of only coming over as Alice's boyfriend."
"I'll come over as much as you'd like, Rosie." I promised.
"Really?"
"Yeah. You make the best cupcakes." I reached for the colorful cupcakes on the tray on the table.
She swatted my hand away. "Those are muffins dumbass."
B
The concierge spent the entire time trying to look down my blouse. I consciously pulled my shirt up – it wasn't even low – and nudged Edward. He had turned his head curiously to me and I made a few random gestures that seemed to get the idea across. He nodded, saying he understood, before glaring at the concierge who shrank an inch or two away.
My husband, ladies and gentlemen!
"When you're done staring down my wife's blouse, can you please tell us a good non-Japanese restaurant near this hotel? Or actually in this hotel?"
The concierge blushed fiercely from being caught. "Y-yes sir. Sure. Uhm…There's a really good restaurant called Chelsea Prime. It's located on the top floor of the Chelsea Hotel – about eight minutes from here – and has terrific food. It's a steakhouse and has a breathtaking view of the city."
"Steak?" I repeated. "As in cows?"
Edward glanced at me. "Are you a vegetarian?"
"No." I smiled. "I'm just a bit iffy about steak."
"Then we'll just have to change your mind, now don't we?" Edward chuckled. "Could you please give me the directions to the Chelsea Hotel?" He turned back to the concierge.
The concierge snapped his gaze away from my chest. "Of course, sir." He had a perverted glint in his eyes and I cringed behind Edward. He handed Edward a brochure. "Do you have a GPS sir?"
"As a matter of fact I do."
"Just plug this address in then." He scrawled something on a parchment. "And that should just take you there." His eyes darted back to my shirt. Okay. I'm throwing this shirt away when I get home. "The steak at Chelsea Prime is very…firm….and juicy…and—" Drool was beginning to form at the corners of his mouth, and I'm fairly certain that he wasn't talking about the steak.
"Look, if you don't tear your eyes away from my wife's chest, you won't even have eyes once I'm done with you." Edward replied simply.
The concierge flinched and handed the paper to Edward. I tried not to laugh – once again, my husband everybody!
"Let's go dear." He replied.
"Okay, hon." I snickered.
We walked to the entrance of the hotel – a broad, arched entryway with deep grooves. The floors were made of stained marble, the sun reflecting off the sleek surface in awkward angles. The breeze outside wasn't too strong – the perfect weather.
Edward fished in his pocket for his ticket, and handed it to the valet manager. "Right away sir." He said with a nod.
"You know, I've always hated valet." I commented suddenly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I don't come from a very rich family – barely upper middle class. My mother was an English teacher and my father was the chief of the police, who wrote on the side." I began, smiling at the memory of Renee schooling Charlie on how to write a good novel. "So we never had one of those flashy cars. We lived in Pasadena, California – a perfectly homey and suburban area. We were never the fancy type. But every once in a while, Renee – my mom – would force Charlie – my dad – and I to go to an expensive French restaurant, or drive up to Beverly Hills and eat at Koi or Nobu. We'd dress up – Renee would wear the dress she reserved for when the queen came over – though she never ended up visiting – and Charlie wore the outfit he only wore when he gave the occasional lecture. We'd give our shabby minivan to the valet and pretend we were rich enough to actually eat and live in an area like Beverly Hills." I smiled at the memory. "But when we left the restaurant, we'd stand in the line of the valet. We'd be surrounded by hotshots and rich trophy wives. They'd own beautiful Lamborghinis and Porsches and then the valet manager would pull up in our shabby silver minivan, and we'd get the weirdest looks."
"I can imagine you in that situation." He chuckled.
"Yeah. The valet would always look at us weirdly, like we didn't belong." I sighed. "So I decided to come back after my show hit it big – I drove up in my incredibly sleek and new car, and I knew they recognized me. The look on their faces was worth all the money I spent on the car."
"That's nice." He said dryly. "You should really start getting a life, Bella."
"I have a life!" I smiled. "It was a one time thing." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, what car do you have?"
"I used to have a silver Volvo – kind of my trademark. But once I began to have a higher income, I decided to buy another car. And I've been driving it for a few years now, and it's terrific." He grinned. "Here it is."
The valet pulled up in a bright orange McLaren F1. "Holy –" I gasped, staring at the beauty of the car in front of me. "It's…it's it."
"It's it?"
"Yes! That's my dream car!" My knees felt weak. "My husband has my dream car!" I could barely breathe.
"See what you married into?" He laughed. "Come on, get in."
I circled the car once, like a predator, before launching myself into the passenger seat. It smelled like orange and mint, and I breathed in the heady scent. "Mm, my favorite."
"What did I marry into?" He said to himself. I swatted his shoulder.
"Want me to punch in the address in the GPS while you pull out of the hotel?"
"That'd be helpful, thanks."
"What's a wife for?" I grinned cheekily. He handed me the parchment. I punched in the address. The computerized voice told him to continue five hundred meters before turning left. I flipped the parchment, and laughed abruptly.
"What's so funny?" He signaled left.
"You know the perverted concierge?" he nodded. "He wrote something on the back of the paper."
"What did he write?" He laughed. "You should really throw out that shirt before I'm forced to beat everyone who looks at you."
I snickered. "I was planning on it. He wrote Call me when you decide to break up with him. 555-0173."
He barked a laugh. "What a douche." He replied. "Hitting on my wife while I'm standing right there."
"Is it weird that we can joke about this mess of a marriage? I'm sure if this had happened to anyone else, they probably wouldn't be going out to grab a bite of eat – I'm pretty sure they'd end up fighting over some superficial issue. I'm also pretty sure they wouldn't be able to be in the same room together."
"I think it's a good sign." He shrugged, pulling into the Chelsea hotel. "I mean, I'm glad that we can stand to be in the same room – and even joke about it. I think it's better that we get along for the next month or two – assuming the deal is on – instead of fighting. People wouldn't believe that we are happily married unless we can stand to be in the same room."
We got out of the car, and he flipped his keys to the valet, trading it for a ticket. Walking into the brightly lit lobby, we rode the elevator to the top floor. The doors opened to reveal a remarkably decorated restaurant.
"Hello, sir." The maître d – an attractive sandy-browned hair woman in her late thirties – greeted. "Table for two?"
"Yes, please." Edward replied, politely. "Preferably one with a good view?"
"We do have one table for two available outside. Would that be okay?" She asked, grabbing two menus.
"That's fine. The weather is perfect today." I chirped.
She gestured for us to follow her. We walked to the balcony with a private table. It had one rounded table with two chairs, a red candle at the center of the table with a single rose in an intricately designed vase. "Here we are. Please enjoy your meal." She smiled friendlily and walked back into the restaurant.
"Wow." I replied, entranced by the view. "This is amazing."
"It is." He smiled. "Do we have good taste or what?"
"The best," I laughed. "I'm starving. I'm having the prime rib, what about you?"
"Kobe beef." He replied. "It's terrific."
A waiter came in and asked if we were ready to order. "As a matter of fact, we are."
"What would you like?" He asked, placing a bread basket on the table.
"I would like to have the Kobe beef, medium well. And she would like to have the prime rib, well done." He ordered easily. "And two glasses of Methuselah champagne for the table."
"Perfect. I'll be back with your champagne in a minute."
I nodded and smiled. "Methuselah? That's incredibly expensive, Edward."
"I figure we should celebrate the fact that I was drunkenly married to a woman who has no intention of clawing my eyes out."
"Cheers!" I smiled.
"I'll be back in a minute." He said. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"Too much information, Edward. Too much information…" I shuddered.
He laughed. "Hey, we're married. I'm entitled to say anything I want."
I quirked an eyebrow. "Just go and pee already."
He rolled his eyes. "I'll be back."
He turned and left, and I noted the number of women who eyed him as he walked by them. At my husband – sure, albeit my accidental husband. But still! I had a right to be a bit territorial. I could see the glares the women gave me once they spotted where he had come from.
My cell phone vibrated in my purse, and I rushed to answer it. It was blaring out my favorite song at the moment – Seventeen Forever by Metro Station. So completely unprofessional. I plucked it out of my purse and answered it.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Bella! Hey!" Jacob's voice came from the other line. "I just wanted to check in on you."
"Well that's what I love about you Jake." I smiled.
"But I also have some things I wanted to tell you."
"And what is that?"
"The financial issues about the imbursement for the people at the hotel has been done and dealt with."
"How much are we losing?" I sighed.
"Absolutely nothing."
"What?" I blinked. "I thought you said it would cost a two and a quarter million dollars. Did they suddenly decide they wanted something other than money?"
"No." He replied. I could hear a smile in his voice. "They're still getting their money."
"Then why aren't we losing any of ours? Did we get the sponsorship? That would be fabulous! I can get the annulment even sooner now."
"No, unfortunately, you'll still have to be married for a month or two. The sponsorship and endorsements have not been signed yet."
"Then explain it to me. Why aren't we losing any money?"
"Someone decided to pick up the bill."
"Who?" I asked. "I haven't told anyone about it that would be willing to pay that incredible bill."
"Well, I don't know how he knows you." He began. "But a man named Edward Masen called me about half an hour ago and offered to pay three million dollars to imburse those who made the sworn statements."
"Wait." I couldn't have heard that right. "Can you please repeat the man's name?"
"Edward Masen – no – Dr. Edward Masen."
I nearly toppled from my chair. "That's – that's my husband, Jacob."
"My, what did you marry into?" He laughed. "Well, tell him thanks. The show is going to be on more stable ground because of that large sum of money he donated."
"I'll be sure to do that." I mumbled. "I have to go, Jake. I'll talk to you when I get home."
"Wait, Bella!"
"What?"
"Now, I'm going to be speaking to you as your friend instead of your publicist." He replied, seriously. "I have a life-altering confession to tell you when you get back."
"What is it about?"
"That's a secret, Bella." He laughed. "I'll see you soon."
"Yeah, see you soon Jake." I heard a click on the other line and I placed my cell phone back in my bag.
I heard the balcony door open, and Edward walked to the table.
"I have a bone to pick with you." I told him.
"Why? What did I do?"
"I can't believe you offered Jacob three million dollars to reimburse my show!" I exclaimed.
He froze. "You heard about that, huh?" He took a bite out of a stick of bread.
"Yes I did! You didn't have to, you know that, Edward. You've done enough already."
"Bella, I know I didn't have to." He replied, nonchalantly. "I didn't do it because I thought I owed you. I'm just as involved as you are – I'm partly at fault here – so I wanted to be part of the aftermath. I am your husband and you are my wife, and I want to help you solve all the problems we may face."
I was touched. "That's sweet, Edward."
He smiled. "Don't worry about it."
I was so incredibly lucky. "Thank you so much Edward. Once again you saved my life!"
He bit into his bread. "That's what I'm here for, babe."
"Please don't start with the pet names."
"Okay, my little honey sunshine."
I rolled my eyes. "Go away, bunny."
E
"This is delicious." She said, taking a bite out of her prime rib.
"Only the best for the love of my life." I teased.
She rolled her eyes. "I'd come up with a snarky comeback, but, unfortunately, I'm too busy enjoying my steak."
"How's the champagne?"
"Great, but incredibly overpriced."
"Not too much. My treat." I smiled, taking a sip of the champagne.
She swallowed and gulped down some champagne. "Okay, we need to talk about our issues."
"What issues? I thought we settled all our issues."
"We pretty much have about a billion other issues we still have to settle." She replied. "But I think it'd be better if we took care of the issues one at a time. We already handled the financial problem today – thank you so much for that by the way – and I'd like to settle the other prominent issue."
The three million dollars was worth it if it helped her. "What is this other issue?"
"The explanation of our marriage." She replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, people won't believe that we just met and happily got married." She explained. "We have to make up a story."
"That's a good idea." I commented. "What should we say?"
"I'm not sure. We still have a long ride back to New York. We could discuss it during that ride."
"For now, let's just enjoy our overeating."
She clinked her glass with mine. "Cheers."
A/N: I was planning on writing even more, but I suppose this is enough. We get a bit of background info on Edward, and we get some insight on the kind of person Edward actually is. And he's taking a liking to her no? Or perhaps he's just…extremely nice.
And can you guess Jacob's revelation? It won't affect the story much – I would never antagonize Tanya or Jacob – but I guess his revelation will make it a bit easier to write about him.
Review review review please. Please? With sugar on top?
-Kim
Number of Pages: 14
Number of Words: 6,308
Completed: Yes
Edited: No
Review Responses:
JennWen: I love writing Bella's inner monologue. She's sarcastic and spontaneous – and I love writing her that way. There's always an indirect suggestion or an indirect life-advice segment during her monologue. Well, I was thinking about having that happen. But I wouldn't want to spoil that for you!
Lil miss bella Cullen: Same here! I go to the mall and hug random strangers, like I'm high on air or something. I get weird looks from people. Nah, I'm just kidding. Most girls like to blend in – but I prefer to make a scene. I actually do that whole wannabe concert thing at the mall. People actually recognize me now! This old man winked at me once – it was extremely creepy! I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I hope you like this chapter as well. I love ya too!
Fictionalfreak830: I'm glad you like this story – I love it too! I hope you like this chapter, Katharine!
Race for the clock tower: Your username is cool =P. I'm racing ya too the clock tower and WAZAM, I get hit by a bus. Bummer….And thanks! I love favorites!
Confused55: Hey buddy! I love reviews too. This story gets exceptionally less reviews than Goodnight & Goodbye (which has an equal amount of chapters) which is weird, because I actually like this story better than G&G. Sigh. I guess people aren't feeling this story. How would you like to be my advertising manager? We can make freakin' buttons and everything! YAY! I loved the dead dog part too – although I love dogs and I don't particularly want to think of them that way. Is it weird that I can come up with these metaphors and advice things when I have virtually no love life of my own? I come from a crazy strict family – no dating till I'm like 50 years old.
Angel4057: I didn't want to have that clichéd 'they hate each other and then suddenly fall in love because they're together all the time and they figure out they complete each other.' I think it's cooler if they actually get along in the beginning, and that friendship develops into love. I love Emmett and Rosalie's side story, although it wasn't included in this chapter. There will be more info on them in the next chapter – though it hasn't been planned out yet. Rosalie is my favorite female character, and I love that discreet vulnerability she has. I always feel horrible for people who have to hide behind a mask of emotions to make it through the day – and I wanted to include head-strong Rose like this.
: Oh thank you very much! I like this story too – it's the only one I have any inspiration or pull to update. I can't wait to find out too! While I'm writing it, I'm practically jumping for joy. I don't know how to outline or plan – so when a twist happens in a story, I'm reacting the same way you guys do – OMFG NO WAY SAY WHAT? – I hope you keep reading and reviewing! Love ya!
Calico Rayne: Really? I don't want to pry – but what's your middle name? If it's Calico or Rayne, then I am incredibly JEALOUS. My middle name is so normal – ANN. What kind of middle name is that! I'm glad you think I write well. I have a weird sense of humor. I blame the air around me. The oxygen in Indonesia is contaminated with laugh gas, really. I hate it when characters fluctuate from one chapter to another, so I'm glad that you think I'm consistent with my characters. Thanks so much for all your support and your reviews! Hope you like this chapter!