DESIDERATA

Things I own: An addiction to caffeine that is something fierce (you would, too, if you worked straight nights; s'all I'm sayin'). My own particular drug of choice is a Starbucks Venti Café Americano with an extra shot (total # shots=5; YES! 5)

Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, it all belongs to Ms. Meyer.

CHAPTER EIGHT: TRANSITIONS, PT. I

"The only normal people are the ones you don't know very well." – Joe Ancis

EPOV

I'm standing next to Esme on the tarmac as we wait for the Masen jet to be ready for boarding. Rosalie is texting away like a demon, so I'm trying to avoid getting into her personal space this early in the morning. Rosalie before 6:00 AM is just hazardous to one's health. Jasper went off somewhere to curl up and sleep until the plane is ready to go.

"Esme, how confident are you that we can get the Quileutes to sign the agreement?"

"Oh, I'm fairly certain we can come to terms with them, dear. From what I know so far, their tribal history indicates that they've been screwed over time and again with written agreements; I mean, that's how they ended up on a reservation, after all. I did some research on the Internet and feel that I have at least a cursory understanding of their tribal culture. It isn't so much that the paper document itself is a deal breaker—it's more that they want to have a personal connection in any their agreements."

"So, how do you think we should approach this?"

"Well, I do think it's best if you are present, along with me. I'm not sure all four of us need to go; that might be overwhelming for them. And, to be honest, Rose would probably just scare them. I do ask that you leave most of the talking and negotiations to me. I get the sense that your being a white male might not be to your advantage here."

"God, I didn't think about any of that. Sorry, mom. I didn't mean for things to backfire so soon."

"Edward, you can't possibly know everything. Negotiations aren't your expertise; that's what I'm here for, silly boy! You just need to be at the helm for the filming process, which is what you do best, after all!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, mom. I just feel like I should be able to foresee things like this, that's all."

As we're discussing our plans for the day, the flight attendant walks towards us to let us know the jet is ready to board.

"Mom, I need to track down Jasper. Can you let Rosalie know we're ready to go?"

"Thanks for leaving the Rottweiler for me!"

"Mom! I can't believe that just came out of your mouth!" I say in feigned shock.

"Hey, you're the one that came up with the nickname, after all!" she giggles. She likes Rosalie as much as the rest of us, but we all acknowledge that she can be…difficult.

I walk off into the hangar and find Jazz sitting with his head between his knees. I go up and nudge his calf with my foot.

"Dude, it's time to head out—you can sleep on the plane!"

Jasper whips his head up, alarmed. "I wasn't asleep! I was just meditating!"

"Jazz, no one snores when they meditate."

"I was so not snoring!"

"Whatever. Just get your ass on the plane."

We get on the plane, and I take a seat next to Esme. I chuckle to myself when I realize that I'm referring to my mom by her first name. Since I work with my parents in a professional capacity, the line between work and home gets pretty muddied for us. Half the time I call her mom; half the time it's Esme. Whenever we're outside of the house, it tends to be Esme, since that's what everyone else calls her. They both feel equally comfortable to me.

During the flight, I boot up my laptop and start reading through the latest draft of our script. As talented as our screenwriter is, I've never found one with whom I see eye-to-eye. That bothers me, but it isn't an unexpected occurrence in the industry. I sigh deeply as I start reading.

"Edward, honey, you're going to yank all your hair out by the time you reach 30 at the rate you're going!"

I'm jarred back to reality by my mother's comment. "Hmmm?"

"Honey, your hair looks like you've been accosted by one of your many fans!"

I laugh along with Esme; for as long as I can remember, I've run my hand through my hair when I'm thinking or stressed. It happens so naturally; I don't even realize when I do it.

"Yeah, well Carlisle does the same thing and look at his full head of hair. I haven't heard you complain about that!" I smirk back at my mother.

"Okay, point taken, wise guy. What are you doing that has you so deeply engrossed in thought?"

"I'm just reading through the most recent version of the script. It looks like I'm going to have to do some edits. You know I'm never completely happy with what they give me. I'll just have to do my best to get this up to snuff before we start filming."

"That's why you're such a good director, sweetie—you always obsess over the details and end up with a beautiful end product."

I lean over and give her a big kiss on the cheek. She really is a wonderful mom.

I decide to give up on the script. For shits and giggles, I Google "Forks, Washington" to see what comes up. Not surprisingly, "Alice's Wonderland Café" is one of the search results. I click on the listing. It is the same website that I saw earlier in the week, of course, nothing new has been added. Before I realize what I'm doing, I find myself focusing on Bella Swan.

"Edward, it doesn't appear that you are reading the script anymore," I hear Esme say to me. I look over at her and see her with a large smile on her face.

"And how might you know that, oh wise mother of mine?"

"Because I've never seen you look so intensely content when reading a script before; I highly doubt that The Noble Savage is so engaging as to put that look on your face."

Jesus, even my own mother can sense there is something more than meets the eye here. I'm so fucked. Why the hell did I go to the website, anyhow?

"I was actually doing some research on lodging and catering in Forks for the filming."

"I thought that was Rosalie's job?"

"Um, well, yes, it is, but I like to give input from time to time."

"And would that input quite possibly have something to do with that very beautiful brown-eyed brunette?"

I quickly shut the laptop and power it down. "Mom, that has nothing to do with the catering choice. You know me better than that!"

"Well, perhaps, but I do know you well enough to know that I've never seen that particular look on your face before. So deny it all you want, but let's just say I have a mother's intuition when it comes to you, Edward. She is lovely, by the way. Have you met her before?"

"Who?"

"Edward, you know who. That beautiful woman from the Wonderland Café."

"How did you know that's what it was called?"

"I peeked over your shoulder when you were being mesmerized by her picture. You didn't even know I was doing that, because you were somewhere else entirely."

"Mom, I am so not mesmerized by her. I was just perusing the menu."

"Suit yourself. But just remember, De Nial is not just a river in Egypt."

After that, Esme has the courtesy to excuse herself and walk to the back of the jet. Damn it, Cullen, get your control back and get in the game! You need to focus on the project, not on Bella Swan. The daily shower sessions didn't get her out of your head?

My cock becomes rock hard at the memory of beating off on multiple occasions to the images of Bella's beautiful mouth, her gorgeous body, and her amazing hair. Christ, what am I, 17 again? If I keep up this pace, I'll need to whack off again tonight, dammit. This is really starting to piss me off.

The captain announces we're close to landing, so Esme returns to her seat and we buckle ourselves in. My mother remains quiet until we land, and I secretly hope this is the end of her line of inquiry on one Ms. Bella Swan.

We meet our driver at the airport and make our way to Forks. Rosalie is still texting away, and I'm getting caught up on voicemail. Jasper and Esme are talking quietly between themselves. Jasper and I have been friends for so long, he is like a second son to her.

"Edward, I would like to stop and get some coffee before we head out to the reservation. Plus, we also need to drop off Rosalie and Jasper somewhere, since they won't be coming to that particular meeting."

As if on cue, Jasper pipes right up. "Hey, Esme, funny you should mention coffee. We know a great little place in Forks—they're actually going to be doing catering during our shoot. Why don't we just go there?"

"That sounds lovely, Jasper. Rose, perhaps you could use our stop there to finalize the contract. Jasper, will you have enough to keep you busy if you and Rose stay there during our meeting?"

"Oh, I'm fairly certain I can keep myself occupied for a few hours," Jasper tells her with a wink and a grin.

"Jazz, how stupid do you think I am? Like you didn't just plan out that entire conversation with Esme just to scheme a way to get back to the Wonderland Café? Mom, seriously, you are so obvious!" I say to both of them, and furrow my brow.

"Why, Edward, I have no idea what you're talking about. I just need some good coffee, that's all," Esme says with a smirk.

"Uh-huh. Right."

"Esme, I cannot imagine what kind of ungrateful oaf would be so skeptical of his own mother!" I hear Jasper say in mock indignation.

"I fully agree with you, Jasper. I think someone else in this car needs a cup of coffee, along with an attitude adjustment."

My mom and Jasper start cracking up together, and high five one another. I just shake my head and give up. Rose is completely oblivious to the proceedings. I silently wish I had that ability to focus when I want to. Well, I used to be the king of focus before Bella Swan came along…

The town car pulls up in front of the Wonderland Café, and we all empty out into the shop. Being a Saturday morning, the shop is full of customers. Without even saying a word, Jasper and I both whip out our Ray Bans. They seem to help us stay incognito in LA; I'm hoping they have the same effect in Forks.

The door chimes as we open it and walk into the café. All of a sudden, the café goes silent, and all eyes turn to us. I guess it was a bit too optimistic to believe our presence would go unnoticed. We get into the queue and wait our turn in line.

When we get to the front of the line, Jasper is first. The little sprite we saw before is at the register. Jasper suddenly removes his sunglasses and looks the pixie in the eyes.

"Why Mr. Whitlock," she says to Jazz without missing a beat, like she's been doing nothing but sitting around waiting for him since we left. "What a surprise to see you here again! We weren't expecting you for another month or so!"

"That's very true, Ms. Brandon. We happen to be in town tying up some loose ends."

"You can call me Alice, by the way. What can I get for you this morning?"

"I'm disappointed that you don't remember what my favorite menu item is, Miss Alice."

I silently roll my eyes at this. Jasper sure knows how to lay it on thick when it comes to the ladies. He doesn't seem to be any less smitten with "Miss Alice" than he was the last time he saw her. My internal threat level of worry has reached ORANGE, meaning fear of Jasper boinking Miss Alice is HIGH. If we move to threat level RED, all bets are off, and said boinking will occur. I need to think of a way to get him to move back to at least level yellow, and fast. Unfortunately, I can't bring him with me to our meeting, and my only alternative seems to be leaving him here with Alice. I sigh audibly for quite possibly the tenth time today, and it isn't even noon yet.

"Jazz, Esme and I really need to head over to the reservation. Do you mind hurrying along so that we can get our coffee, too?" I ask him with impatience.

"Edward, you should know we're on Forks time now. The Quileutes will wait for you to arrive. Just settle down. You know, don't worry, be happy." The motherfucker laughs at me.

I cross my arms and give him my I am SO not amused look. He gets the message, finally.

"Miss Alice, I think I will step aside and let my kind friends get their beverages of choice first; you and I have plenty of time to get my selection down later."

Alice just nods her head in slow motion, and very slowly turns her head over to me. I presume she intends to take my order, but all her thought and reason seem to be directed towards Jasper at the moment. I clear my throat to re-direct her brain over to me.

"I'd like the most caffeinated beverage on your menu, please."

"Well, sir, I can get you as many shots as you want—it's just a matter of adding extras. How many do you need?"

"Probably more than is healthy for me. Do you have anything with four shots?"

"That would be our large espresso Americano," she says, while shaking her head. "Your intake practically rivals Bella's!"

My heart stops when I hear the name Bella, and I freeze. Did she somehow sense my initial attraction to Bella? Why else would she mention her like that? Shit, am I that obvious? First Esme, now Alice. This is already so out of control.

I decide to play dumb. "Bella?"

"Yes, I believe you met her last time you were here. Bella Swan, the person who makes our baked goods."

"I don't seem to recall anyone by that name."

"Oh, well I can have her come out to meet you. She is going to be taking care of the coffee cart on your set, so you might as well meet her."

I open my mouth to start protesting, when I hear Alice bellow out "Swan! Get your bunners up here now!!"

If I didn't know any better, I would say it is physically impossible for someone that tiny to make a noise that loud. Apparently, I would be wrong.

I hear a grumbling noise approach. Bella Swan comes out from a set of swinging doors. Her hair is in a high ponytail, she has flour over every imaginable body surface, and she is sporting a shirt that says, Come to the Dark Side. We have cookies.

Before she sees any of us, Bella replies, "What is it, Tiny Tim?"

"Bella, this is Mr. Edward Cullen. I'm not sure that you've been properly introduced."

Bella stops dead in her tracks and looks like she has just been a witness to a grisly murder. I decide that at the very least, I should act like a gentleman. Esme is standing right behind me, after all.

I hold out my hand to her. "Hello, Bella. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Bella gives me the biggest stink eye look I've ever seen. "Hello. Edward." She looks like she just threw up in her mouth. WTF?

Bella and I just stand there, shaking hands joined, eyeing each other warily. Esme breaks the silent scowling.

"Hello, Ms. Swan, my name is Esme Cullen. I'm Edward's mother. In case you haven't met her, this is Rosalie Hale. She is Edward's Personal Assistant."

Bella drops my hand like a hot potato and just as quickly grabs onto Esme.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Cullen. I truly admire Masen Masterwork's portfolio of films."

Again, WTF? I'm the director of most of the projects at Masen, but all I get is a terse "Hello. Edward." Esme gets the royal treatment? What am I missing here? Was I not polite?

"Thank you so much, Ms. Swan. The pleasure is all mine, truly. I really appreciate your compliment."

All I can do is scowl. I'm pissed off to a huge degree. I cannot fathom what I might have done to earn Bella's ire.

"Here's your order, Mr. Cullen. Would you like anything else? One of Bella's Buns for the road, perhaps?" She says to me, sweetly. I have to admit, she is very cute. I glance over at Bella again and notice that she is beet red. I wonder why.

"No, we ate on the plane. Coffee is just fine for now. Thank you. Esme, you and I should really get going."

"Yes, dear, I know. Ms. Brandon, I'm wondering if I could just get a cup of your brewed coffee, then we'll be on our way. And I have to compliment you on your café. It is just superb. I've always loved the story Alice in Wonderland. You've really captured that here."

"Thank you so much, Ms. Cullen. We're just a little shop in little Forks, Washington, but we do the best we can," Alice tells Esme as she hands her a cup of coffee.

Rose finally gets off her phone long enough to ask Alice to get Emmett so they can finalize the contract.

I turn to Jasper. "So Jazz, we'll probably be back by midafternoon. Should we just meet you guys here?"

"Yeah, I think we can hide out relatively inconspicuously. We're good, bro."

"Okay, then. Shall we, Esme?" I ask my mom, offering her my arm as an escort.

"We shall, dear boy. We shall," she replies, hooking her arm in mine and smiling beautifully.

A/N: I checked to make sure that it is now possible to use wifi on a plane, and it is on certain carriers. Since this is a private jet, I'm assuming Edward can do whatever the hell he wants in terms of searching the Internet during a flight.

"Desiderata" is up for an Indie Award…if you feel it is worthy, I encourage you to vote from July 6-13 at: http://www [dot] theindietwificawards [dot]

(Obviously, you need to remove the [dot] and replace it with a real dot.)