DESIDERATA
A/N: Things I own: A rubber bracelet stating, "I'm in love with a fictional character." Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, it all belongs to SM.
CHAPTER FOUR: QUANDARY
"We do not describe the world we see, but see the world we describe." – Joseph Jaworski
EPOV
I look over at Jasper as the door slams shut behind him. His hands are full, and he is trying to hand me something. But that's not what catches my attention—it is the look on his face. I've seen that look before, and it worries me to my core. He doesn't need to say a word; I recognize at once that Jasper is smitten with the café proprietor, Alice.
"Here, Edward. Bella gave me this cookie to give to you. She said I'm supposed to tell you that, quote, 'he needs an attitude adjustment—hopefully this will do the trick. If he doesn't recognize what it is, just tell him it's a grin. People do that, sometimes.'" Jasper is laughing his ass off as he finishes his sentence.
"This is a grin? I thought it was a moon." I hear Rosalie laugh when I say that.
"She called it a 'Cheshire Cat Grin.' I think it has something to do with the shop being called 'Alice's Wonderland Café,'" Jasper adds.
I scoff to myself. Attitude adjustment! Mind your own business, I just needed a fucking cup of coffee. You'd be headachy and irritable, too, if you had to deal with getting set up for a movie, sweetness.
"Fuck the grin. Just get me out of this goddamn rain. The sooner we head back to LA, the better. I can't believe this is the location you chose for the movie, Edward. What in god's name were you thinking?" Rosalie fumes.
"Rosalie, I was thinking that Forks, Washington is the ideal location because it is remote, thus allowing us a greater degree of freedom and privacy, particularly from the media, and it has its very own Native American tribe nearby, from which we can draw upon for all the Native Americans we need for the film. You know it is important to suffer to create our art, n'est-ce pas?"
Rosalie rolls her eyes at me. "Whatever, Edward. I still think you could have opted for something in California. Forks, Washington is so fucking colloquial I can't stand it. I'll never be able to get a decent latte there. Never mind what all the rain will do to my hair." I hear Rosalie start to rant, but don't listen to the words she's saying. I don't even want to go there when she is in a mood like this. That Internet gossip must have really set her off.
"Well, to be totally honest, I found the people of Forks, Washington to be very genuine, warm, and amiable, a wonderful change from all the suck-ups back home," Jasper adds once Rose's rant is temporarily on hiatus.
"Jazz, my sole concern about filming in Forks is that you will become enchanted with one of the locals…then what would I do with you?" I say, only half-kiddingly.
"Well, Edward, at least you can be assured that won't be your fate…"
Oh, Jazz, if only you knew…damn, just thinking back to those brown doe eyes has me hard again. Shit.
I see Jasper fiddling with something. He looks down at it, and then looks at me, almost sheepishly.
"Oh, Edward, I forgot to give this to you. It is Alice's business card. I thought it might be a good idea to arrange a coffee cart for the set. Here," he says simply, as he hands the card off to me.
"Let Rosalie handle it, Jazz. You know I don't care about shit like that."
"Well, I know you will care when you don't have a caffeine fix whenever you need one."
"Again, give it to Rose. She'll take care of it."
I hear Rosalie snort and mutter under her breath, "Yeah, I'll take care of it…" and she swipes the card out of Jasper's hand.
"Jasper, what the fuck is this?" She sneers at him.
"What the fuck is what?"
"This hand-scrawled phone number on the back of the card?"
I see Jasper blush and hesitate for a moment. That is definitely not good.
"Oh, Alice just wrote down her cell phone in case we had trouble contacting her."
"Jazz, can you give me one good reason why we would ever have trouble reaching her? She lives in fucking Forks, Washington! It isn't like the router is going to get overheated from the huge volume of phone traffic in and out of this place!"
Jazz looks at her with a completely calm, but firm, gaze. "Rosalie, I am only going to tell you this once: Back the fuck off. Leave Alice alone. Just call her and set up the coffee."
I watch this unfold between the siblings with both interest and fear. The interest is because I have seldom seen two siblings who are more different than Jasper and Rosalie, and they are fascinating to behold when they spar. The fear is because of the line of demarcation that has been drawn between the two when it comes to Alice. Had this been a fleeting, cursory meeting between Jasper and Alice, the point would be moot. I know better—we will be filming intensely over three months, and Jasper will run into Alice again. Which means that Jasper and Rosalie will spat over Alice again. I begin to feel like this movie project is akin to walking into a den of snakes. Between Miss Brown Eyes, Alice, the Internet leak, on top of all the typical production logistical difficulties, this is turning into a personal nightmare of epic proportions.
There is a temporary stalemate between the siblings over the "L'Affaire d'Alice." Rosalie sits with her arms and legs crossed, bouncing her stiletto-clad foot up and down. The look on her face is stern, and her lips are taut. She is about as approachable at this moment as a Rottweiler in heat—you could do it, but you wouldn't want to deal with the nasty consequences of your actions. When I glance over at my best friend, if I didn't know any better, I would say he is spellbound. Not that I believe in any of that ridiculous psychic nonsense, but he is completely in another place other than here in the car, sitting next to me.
I start to think about the roles these two play in my work, how inextricably interwoven they are in the fabric of my life. Rosalie is the sour to Jasper's sweet. She is the shrew, and he is the tamer. She is the oil to his water. And yet, in some ways, they are so similar. Their gestures, their manner of speech, even their laughter, resemble one another. Their wavy blond hair, their brilliant blue eyes, their height, body type, all clearly follow the Hale phenotype.
While it would be easy to write off Rosalie, because, frankly, she is a total megabitch (she loves to reply to my question, "Rose, why are you such a megabitch?" to which she answers, "Because I can be." We both love the movie Heathers), it would be imprudent to do so. She is as loyal an individual as one could ever find, she works herself to the bone, she is smart as a whip, and doesn't put up with any bullshit. She is, in short, the ideal Personal Assistant, and I'm damn lucky to have her on board.
I've known the siblings since we were children growing up in Chicago. The Hales were an old Southern family, from Georgia; they moved to Chicago when I was in first grade. Jasper and I are the same age; Rosalie is two years older than us. We all went to the same private school. Initially, Jasper struggled with the culture shock between the south and Chicago. Jazz has the kindest, most gentle soul on the planet, and the other kids immediately honed in on this vulnerability. Rose, on the other hand, was always tough as nails—to my knowledge, no one ever fucked with her. I've always been a fairly serious and reserved person, but I simply couldn't stand by and watch Jasper be torn apart by the other first graders. When the other kids started to tease him on the playground, I told the playground monitor. She could never catch them in action, of course, because playground bullies are far too smart to get caught in the act. When that wasn't enough, I stepped in and made certain no one bothered Jasper again. We've been inseparable best friends ever since.
When I decided to go to UCLA for film school, Jasper followed, studying acting. Rosalie majored in Economics at Northwestern, preferring to stay closer to home. She didn't move out to LA until she broke up with Royce; he was a total son of a bitch and did a real number on her, so her tough outer shell became tougher with every passing year. We encouraged her to join us, and we've been thick as thieves ever since.
I always knew my Aunt Elizabeth planned for me to take over the helm at Masen Masterworks from her. It is the future for which my parents, Esme and Carlisle, always prepared me. As an only child, I take the duty of my family responsibilities very seriously. Thus, my attending film school was a pre-determined conclusion. To be honest, Jasper always assumed we'd go into the business together, which is the main reason he chose to pursue acting. I just happen to be extremely fortunate that he is such an incredible, versatile actor, in addition to being my best friend. No matter what film project we take on, Jazz is a natural male lead. Add to that his infallible charisma, and he is one hot Hollywood commodity. There is practically no one in Hollywood who takes on projects out of a sense of commitment and loyalty to the production team, but Jasper has always put Masen Masterworks first. No matter what outside projects he is offered, he always defers to the Masen projects. I couldn't ask for a more loyal friend. In an industry filled with ruthless, narcissistic individuals, Jasper's integrity is unassailable.
I'm still deep in thought as we arrive at the airport. Jasper and Rosalie's stalemate has gotten nowhere. That makes for brilliant conversation once we get on the plane, with each of us in our own world. As we take off, we fly into the cloud base that appears to cover the entire state of Washington. Through the deep cloud cover, Bella's brown eyes pop back into my mind and come back to haunt me.
Shit, I must really be tired if my mind keeps wandering back to some baker in the middle of nowhere, Washington. What could she possibly have that would appeal to me? Our lives couldn't be any more different—we move in completely separate worlds. It simply isn't possible, or even pragmatic, for me to fall for someone who is so…unique.
It was adorable the way she blushed and bit her lip after the "bun incident." She really didn't say much at all, but what she did say was quite notable. She quoted directly from Quiz Show, which was a brilliant movie. I couldn't really see her figure, hidden behind that apron, but god, she was so beautiful, especially with the dab of flour that dusted her nose. I can't decide if it was her doe eyes or her blush that made me hard, but I've never done that before.
"…Hey, Edward! Where are you right now?" Jazz' words break into my musings, and I realize I am hard again, just thinking about Bella. Dammit!
"Hmm? Oh, nothing, Jazz. Just thinking about the project…"
I know better than to imagine that Jasper would buy lame excuse; he is way too intuitive and knows me far too well for that.
"Anything about the project in particular? Like, oh, I don't know, a pair of really brown eyes, perhaps?" He says, with a shit ass grin on his face. Damn, I knew it!
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Jasper! Except that I did notice you had your own 'moment' back at the café."
"Touché," is his only reply. Two can play this game, Jazz…you know me better than that!
Our plane lands and we all catch a cab home. We make plans to meet up in the office tomorrow to regroup and debrief after our site visit. I'm utterly exhausted and fall into bed in my clothes, asleep before I even hit my pillow.