DESIDERATA

A/N: The last chapter of Desiderata posed some technical problems in the form of user error (sadly, mine), and the story was deleted and re-loaded as a result. For any of you who had trouble finding the story again after that mishap, I apologize. I'll promise to do my best not to let technical difficulties get in the way again!!

Things I own: A boxed set of Twilight. BONUS: This was given to me by my

husband, when he officially bought in to the "dark side."

Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, it all belongs to Ms. Meyer. I also do not own a banner for this story, so if anyone is interested in designing one, please, be my guest!!

CHAPTER SEVEN: PLANS (ACCORDING TO BELLA)

"I become insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." – Edgar Allen Poe

BPOV

To say this week has been crazy would be an understatement of monolithic proportions. It all started out with the visit from Masen Masterworks, when Mr. Asshat Cullen decided to grace us with the presence of his film company. The rest of the week has been four long days of fangirl squeefest. If I never hear Jessica or Lauren again, it will be too soon. In listening to their squeals, however, I have discovered something important—I'm fairly certain that if we could manage to close their mouths permanently, we will have solved the global warming crisis.

With the antics of Jessica and Lauren in mind, today's shirt selection reads: I have a positive attitude (but it may be a false positive). Suffice it to say, Alice isn't amused. She won't even let me up front to pour my own coffee this morning, so she must be pretty pissed. The way I see it, though, I don't really have a way to fight back against those two harpies, thus my only means of self-expression is via my t-shirt slogans. And, frankly, being forced to stay in the back of the café isn't a punishment, it is a reward. I can't believe Alice hasn't figured that out yet—she is usually so quick on the ball. I think she's been so preoccupied with a Mr. Jasper Whitlock, though, that I've been able to get away with more than usual.

I'm just getting ready to pop some of my "Eat Me" cookies in the oven when I look up to see Emmett and Alice in front of me. This can't be good—I'm usually left to my own devices all day long. Sometimes, Alice will come back to freshen my coffee and say a quick hello before flitting back off to the front. The only time Emmett appears is when he gets hungry and tries to sneak one of my freshly baked cookies. In all the time I've worked here, however, I don't recall both of them coming back at the same time, and certainly not standing in front of me with looks of consternation and frustration. At least I think that's what their looks convey.

"Bella," they both say at the same time.

"Whoa, there horsies—I can only handle one person talking at a time, and sometimes that's a little too much. Take a breath, Alice," I say, looking pointedly at her. I turn my gaze over to Emmett. "Emmett, what do you need to say?"

Alice then opens her mouth to add something, but I quickly put my finger over her lips. I know from previous experience that she is so excitable I won't be able to comprehend what spews out of her mouth with the same airspeed velocity as an unladen swallow. Is that a European or African Swallow? I chuckle to myself thinking of that whole skit from Monty Python. Oops, busted. Not paying attention, my bad.

Emmett finally just blurts it out. "The only way for us to make this work is if you take care of the coffee cart, Bella."

"Umm, what?"

"The coffee cart. You have to do it."

"What coffee cart? What the hell are you talking about, Emmett?"

Alice can't hold back any longer. "Masen Masterworks has asked us to do the coffee and goodies for the length of their filming here in Forks, Bella! Isn't that the best news you've heard all year?" She is literally imitating a Mexican jumping bean.

"No, that is definitely not the best news I've heard all year. Well, it might be good news for you, Alice, since it will put you in close proximity to Mr. Whitlock," I notice Emmett's brow furrow with that last statement, "But as for me, I don't want to be within 50 square miles of Mr. Edward Cullen, if that's all right with you. And I'm the baker girl. Alice does the coffee. You know this, Emmett! Look at my t-shirt, for god's sake—doesn't that spell 'customer service disaster'? I'm like the Titanic of customer service! They'll want their money back if I come anywhere near them."

"But Bella, if I do the coffee cart, you would have to work the front counter here at the café…wouldn't that be worse than the coffee cart? Plus, it would be easier for you to head off to the movie set once you're done baking, since you finish up mid-morning."

I'm beginning to suspect that Alice may have ulterior motives. I can't believe she would suggest that I should do the coffee cart.

"Can't Emmett do it? I don't know if I will be able to get all the baking done in time every day and go to the movie set. I hear they work ungodly hours, so I would need to be there 24/7. I can't do that, Alice! You know that!"

"Bella, Alice and I have been around and around with this, and it is the only option that works. I don't need to remind you how huge an opportunity this is for the café, do I? The publicity alone will be killer."

I put my fingers in my ears and start singing "La-la-la-la-la" at the top of my lungs. I know this is completely immature, but they don't seem to be getting the point—I cannot do this. I can't talk to famous people. I can't help famous people. And I will poison Edward Cullen's coffee if he comes too close to me.

"Well, we've already told them we'll do it, so we'll all need to work together to make this happen. Bella, we all have to pitch in here; I know we're asking a lot of you, but we wouldn't do it unless we had to," Alice says, with a sympathetic smile.

I sigh deeply. She got me. That sweet little face turns me to mush every time. She always gets me, dammit!

"I'm gonna need to think this through over the next few days. I'm pretty sure I can figure out a way to get Alice to do it and still leave our existing customers in one piece. Just give me some time." In the back of my mind, however, I know damn well I can't make this work. I'm just buying myself some additional time.

Alice does the Mexican jumping bean imitation again and hugs me tightly. Her enthusiasm is almost catching. Almost.

The front door chimes out a greeting to the three of us. "Well, I need to run back up front. Think about it, Bella, and we'll talk later." Alice says, as she dances away.

Emmett just looks at me, shrugs, and uses his bear paw of a hand to grab a few cookies. His reflexes are always sharper than mine, and I end up swatting the table instead of him. "You're eating into company profits, Assmet! I mean that literally!" I shout after him as he makes a quick escape to his office.

Well now, that was most unexpected, I think to myself. There are so many different feelings running through my brain that I'm completely overwhelmed. I need to sit down and breathe for a minute to get myself calm. The ramifications of working with Masen Masterworks are huge; I understand this implicitly. That's probably why I'm hyperventilating and feeling lightheaded.

I quickly determine I'm not going to be able to put my head around this today. I'm just going to take a step back and finish my work. I purposely take in a deep cleansing breath and walk back to my cookies. I very deliberately set the timer, so I make certain not to forget about them in my dazed state of mind. I glance at my work station, and my eyes fall upon my copy of Desiderata. I realize that haven't moved on to think about the other sections of Desiderata for a few days. Maybe I should just think through that to see if it gives me some perspective on all this craziness; it certainly can't hurt. I read the first sentence.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Wow, talk about pertinent! We're achieving a lot, our little café enterprise, through this contract with Masen. It really is a huge deal, and I should have been more excited about it with Emmett and Alice; it is truly something to celebrate. I shouldn't be such a stick in the mud sometimes, but I can't help it—new ideas just take me a little bit longer to process. I'm the kind of person who needs to work through things, to understand them fully, before I can move forward. When I was little, Charlie always joked that I was his little detective, because I need to have all the facts in front of me before I could reach a conclusion. It's just the way I'm wired. The Masen deal also puts some plans into effect, so it looks like we've got this part of Desiderata covered.

Of course, I need to think about this in a personal context as well…amazing, I didn't just rush to self-analyze! I went with the greater good first!, I think sarcastically. Talking about individual achievements is never something I've been comfortable doing. I mean, what is there to say about myself? That I graduated from high school? That I can whip up the best lemon curd west of the Mississippi? No, I can't even say that—but I can say I make the best lemon curd tarts in Forks, Washington. My "buns" are renowned within Clallam County. That is an achievement, however modest.

And plans? Yes, I have plans. I do want to enjoy my plans. Someday, I will become a writer. My gigantic collection of Moleskine books will serve their purpose. Perhaps I might even get that chance to go to college. Someday…

Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Well, being a baker is a humble enterprise, but I am proud of all that I'm able to produce with my own two hands. I make people happy via desserts. To me, it's the best way in the world to show how much I love someone—to make them something sinfully delicious. As much as I grumble or wear my saying-of-the-day shirts, I absolutely love what I do. It is hard work, but very satisfying. I recognize that there are plenty of people around who have lost their jobs recently, but here we are getting the business deal of a lifetime. We're damn lucky, all three of us. It reminds me of Katharine Graham, the former owner of The Washington Post. She once said, "To love what you do, and feel that it matters—how could anything be more fun?" And you know what? She is absolutely right.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.

Now I'm getting nervous and second guessing myself—the Masen deal could also be seen as the "big guys" trying to pull a fast one on us little, colloquial, backwater podunks. Just because they live in LA and they're urbane and sophisticated doesn't mean they're better than us, after all. I will need to check with Emmett to make sure we are getting a fair shake. Mr. Ehrmann, you're a genius. Thanks for the reminder that Edward Cullen isn't to be trusted. I'm sure the rest of them are okay, but I'm certain that Cullen is a conniving SOB. I just know it.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals and everywhere life is full of heroism.

I suppose I could admit that, in general, I'm a little cynical. But my faith in humanity is not completely frayed—all I have to do is take a look at my sweet little Alice, who is about as virtuous a person as there is. We all strive for high ideals here at the café, we work our buns off (well, at least "Bella's Buns" off!!) to do our best for our customers. As for everyday heroes, if my dad isn't the biggest hero I've ever known, I don't know who is. I have heroic and idealistic people surrounding me, so that's all good.

Before I know it, I'm done with my tasks for the day. There's something about mixing, measuring, and baking that puts me in my thinking zone. If I'm completely honest with myself, I'm feeling far more comfortable with the Masen plan than I was when Emmett and Alice first presented it to me. I just need to have faith that it will all work.

I peek my head out front to see what Alice is up to, and see that she is paging through a magazine. Never mind that this month's cover boy is—wait for it, wait for it—Jasper Whitlock. Oh, this girl has got it B-A-D. Good, I think to myself. She is weak enough to fall for a ploy to look up Masen's Internet site with me.

"Hey Alice, is it safe to come out of my rabbit's hole?"

I hear her delightful giggle. "Yes, Bella, it's safe. Just make sure your apron covers up your shirt."

"So, I was thinking we could check out the Masen Masterworks site to find out more about them. You know, to make sure we are, um, meeting their needs. That is, uh, tailoring our approach to meet the client's demands."

"Bella, I don't know why you even try to hide your agenda. Just say it out loud: You want to check out Edward Cullen. And I want to check out Jasper Whitlock. I've known you forever, Bella—you should know by now that your motives are always completely transparent to me."

Damn, she's a tricky one, that Thumbelina. "Okay, okay, yes, I wanted to check out the website. But no, I did not want to check out Edward Cullen. He may be a hottie, but he has an ego the size of Texas, which makes him totally unappealing."

"Yeah, right, Bella—dry that one out, you can fertilize the lawn. Come on, let's go over to the computer"

Alice's Wonderland Café is wired for the Internet; we're a wifi site and have a couple of computer terminals you can rent by the hour. Alice is already at the terminal when I hear her gasp.

"What is it, Alice?" I cannot imagine what could have alarmed her like that.

"Well, whoever was here last left the Masen Masterworks home page up. Look at the photo, Bella!"

I quickly catch up to pipsqueak and look over her shoulder. I see a picture of the Asshat, Jasper, and Rosalie Hale. The caption says they were in a planning session for their upcoming production of The Noble Savage. Sure, Jasper looks mighty fine in the photo, but I can't for the life of me figure out what would make Alice gasp—it isn't that fine of a shot. He looks far hotter on the cover of the magazine that she was just reading.

"Yeah, Alice, I'm looking. And?"

"Don't you see it?"

"What, Alice, what? See what?" I'm getting a little annoyed.

"The coffee cup."

"Huh?" That's all I can manage.

"Bella, it has the same saying as the shirt you were wearing the other day. Remember, the one I almost made you take off because I hated it so much?"

I look at the photo a little more closely, then I see it: Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but the duties are largely ceremonial.

Well, fuck me. I look at the date stamp on the photo—it is dated the exact same day I wore that shirt.

Now I'm more than slightly concerned that there is some kind of instant karma the universe has sent my way as retribution for all my snarkiness. This is my payback, in the form of Edward Cullen. I don't think the universe could have done a better job at picking the perfect nemesis for me. Damn, why do I have to be such a snark? Why can't I be more sweet and loving, like Alice? Her instant karma is clearly Jasper Whitlock. Mine is Edward Cullen, sent to torment me for months on end. Shit.

I have no intention of letting Alice understand how much this bothers me to my core. "Well, that just proves everything we already learned about Edward Cullen—see, he is an agent of Satan!!"

"Oh no you don't, Bella! I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. I see the date stamp on that picture, and I know it was the same day you wore your shirt with the same saying. It's what I've been trying to tell you all along, since I had the dream—he is in your destiny, Bells. I feel it to the depths of my soul."

I sigh loudly. "Ali, I love you. You know I do. But you have to stop with the Obsessive Cullen Disorder shit right now. We aren't destined to be together. He is Hollywood personified. I am a baker girl with famous buns from Forks, Washington. He is a total asshole. There is a chasm between us the size of the Grand Canyon, and never the twain shall meet. Savvy?"

"Bella, I need you to listen to me, and to take this seriously. You know I wouldn't demand this of you if I didn't believe in this very strongly: I sense in my bones that our lives, our destinies, are meant to be something quite different than what we have previously expected. The minute that trio walked through our doors, our lives changed permanently, and will continue to do so in the most profound way. I can't tell you why. I just know it is going to happen. You know me well enough to understand that I don't take such intuitions lightly. Most importantly, have I ever, ever been wrong?"

No, Alice. You've never been wrong. Until now.

"No."

"So, will you work with me here, or not? Because this is all going to happen, and the proceedings will be much happier for everyone involved if you go along with it. That's all I'm saying."

"Sure, pipsqueak. Sure."

Alice raises one eyebrow at me. She knows I'm just saying what she wants to hear in order to shut her up, but that's all I'm capable of at this point in time. Seriously, I've had too many things sprung on me today to accept anything more. I'm maxed out on that particular credit card of life.

I glance back at Alice and notice that she is far away. She starts to speak, and it's almost like she's having an out of body experience—her eyes are still somewhere else entirely.

"Bella, I hope for both of us that we marry only because we are truly and deeply in love. Promise me you won't ever get married otherwise."

I'm having a total WTF moment. Marriage? Huh? Did I miss about 20 steps of logical thinking there? Hell, I'm a dateless-wonder-virgin. I'm not getting married. Ever. What kind of voodoo is Alice creating? The only way to shut this down is to go with the flow. And speak the truth.

"Alice, nothing but the deepest love and respect for my partner would ever entice me into marriage. I promise that to you. Okay?"

It makes me wonder if we all drank the wrong batch of Kool Aid recently. Either that, or Alice accidentally swallowed the red pill while I swallowed the blue. Because, seriously, I feel like I'm in the Matrix all of a sudden. Until four days ago, life made sense. It wasn't blissfully happy, certainly, but it made sense. It was something I could work with. Now, I feel like I've drifted into some kind of twisted reality like a real-life version of Alice in Wonderland. On Monday, I knew what was big was big, and what was small is small. Today, the world has none of that sense of order. I honestly don't know which end is up. Which is my cue to shut things down until I can reboot my Central Processing Unit. Seriously.

I check my watch, and it is nearly time to leave. I clear my throat audibly to get Alice's attention back to the Wonderland Café from wherever it is she has gone.

"Ali, it's nearly 6:00. I'm just going to finish cleaning up in back and head home, okay? Charlie needs to get some dinner."

Alice just nods absently, staring at the Masen website, so I head back and finish up my work. By the time I'm done and have some food packed up for Charlie, Alice has come back to earth.

"Hey girl, I'm heading out," I yell out to Alice. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, 'kay?"

She smiles her little grin at me. "Sounds great. Love you, girl!"

"You know I love you too, baby! Don't stare at the picture of Jasper Whitlock too long, sweetie, or the image will be burned onto your retina. It's just like looking at the sun directly," I laugh as I exit the café.

Charlie and I go through our usual evening motions, between dinner, dishes and ESPN. Well, I do the dishes and he does ESPN. God forbid our roles be reversed—ESPN drives me nuts. I find myself very preoccupied as I put away the last of the dishes. I'm still a little unsettled with everything that went down at the café today. I have to tell myself over and over again that I will figure it out, and that everything will fall into place; I know that it usually does. It is just the time it takes for everything to fall into place that has me feeling so disjointed. I don't deal well with ambiguity, and my life has been one ambiguous mess these past few days. I walk over to the living room to tell Charlie goodnight and head upstairs.

As I settle myself into bed, my mind is a flurry of activity. I wonder if I will ever be able to fall asleep with the party that's going on in my brain. On top of all that, I realize that I am horny as hell—it must be all the sexual tension Alice has been projecting into our workplace this week. I doubt that there is a hornier virgin on the planet than Bella Swan. I sigh to myself—I don't even know what sex feels like, but I certainly know that I want it. With the shallow pool of applicants from Forks, Washington, however, I have no intentions of cashing in my v-card anytime soon.

My mind starts to wander down a more erotic path, and I start to think of all my favorite kisses from the movies. With no personal sexual experience to draw from, I have to resort to hot images that totally turn me on. Pathetic? Absolutely. But true. It reminds me of my favorite scene from Cinema Paradiso. Set in Italy in the post-WWII era, the local puritanical priest has insisted that all the kissing/schmexy times scenes be cut from the movies. At the end of the movie, the owner of the theatre spliced together all the kissing scenes, so they play continually. It is the hottest, sweetest moment in all of independent filmdom. That's kind of what my mind is doing to me right now, except it is running down all my favorite schmexy scenes:

James McAvoy and Keira Knightly in Atonement

Kate Winslet and Leo DiCaprio in Titanic

Joseph Fiennes and Gwyneth Paltrow in Shakespeare in Love

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie in Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Robson Green and Francesca Annis in Reckless

Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint in North by Northwest

Gael Garcia Bernal, Diego Luna, and Ana Lopez Mercado in Y Tu Mama Tambien

Dev Patel and Frieda Pinto in Slumdog Millionaire

Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams in The Notebook

James McAvoy and Anne Hathaway in Becoming Jane

Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice (Colin Firth version, of course)

Leo DiCaprio and Claire Danes in Romeo+Juliet

Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge

Marco Leonardi and Lumi Cavazos in Like Water for Chocolate

Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas in The English Patient

Kirsten Dunst and Tobey Maguire in Spiderman

Hugh Grant and Andi MacDowell in Four Weddings and a Funeral

As the scenes play through my head, I don't even realize that my girlie parts have turned into a sopping wet mess. I slide my hand under the waist of my panties and meet the slick wetness there. I slowly drag the moisture up to my clit and start to circle around the sensitive nub. I'm so hot and bothered from the scenes replaying over and over in my head that I nearly moan loudly the second I touch myself. I catch myself in time to make sure that Charlie doesn't overhear my activities. That would just be ten shades of mortification blush right there. It's a challenge to keep quiet, but I simply have to achieve release, or I'll never fall asleep. As I continue to circle my clit, I use my left hand to palm my breasts and pinch my nipples. My body reacts instantly to the sensation, and I arch my back in response. I slip my left hand down my abdomen to my lips, slide them gently apart, and thrust two fingers inside. The motion brings with it relief, and I feel myself tightening towards my climax. The images are flashing through my mind so quickly, it's almost like someone set a slide projector on fast forward. Kate+Leo…fuck, yes!!...Ryan+Rachel… shit!...James+Keira…Ralph+Kristin…oh-my-god-yes…Joseph+Gwyneth…green eyes+ fucking smirk…jesusfrickingchrist I'm coming so hard!

My orgasm overtakes me like a tsunami—almost like the Aswan Dam breaking open. My heart nearly beats out of my chest and it takes me several minutes to control my breathing. I've never used that particular brand of imagery to beat off before, but I have to admit it is very effective. I'm silently smiling to myself when a breath catches in my throat. Wait a minute…the last thing I thought of before I came was green eyes and a smirk? Fucking green eyes and a smirk, seriously? How the hell did that slip in with all those other yummy images? I came the minute green eyes entered my mind? Fuck, that is so not good!

I'm finally relaxed and tired enough to fall asleep, so I simply shove that last little nugget of information out of my mind's eye for now. No, I am not ready to acknowledge that little detail in the light of day yet. I close my eyes, pull the covers up over my shoulders, and settle in to sleep.