A/N: SM owns the characters, not me. I never read these things at the beginning so I know you won't either. Onward and upward. Did someone say Edward?

~Chapter 6 – She Shoots~

BPOV

Zephyr's introduction to his new school went as smoothly as I could have hoped for. I told my editor, Marcus, that I would be a little late for work because of a morning appointment, so I had some wiggle room. Fortunately, we found Zeph's birth certificate on Sunday afternoon, moments before I lost my mind in panic. Afterward we ran to Target and found him a cool new backpack and some rain boots. The weatherman was predicting a few inches of rain this week and I wanted to be prepared.

Come Monday morning we were both a bundle of nerves. Between us, I think we tried on four different outfits before we finalized the day's ensemble. I settled on a knee-length, plaid, wool A-line skirt and white collared button down. Zeph proudly chose a green polo shirt to match his new green, frog-eyed rubber boots. I combed his hair while he brushed his teeth and felt my chest fill up with pride. Over the past few months, Zephyr had shed his chubby cheeks, growing out of his baby face. When I put a little gel in his hair to keep down the cowlick that had plagued him since birth, I looked in the mirror, and caught a glimpse into his future.

"You're going to be such a handsome man when you grow up," I said, setting down the comb.

"Yeah, I hope so, because Johnny said I was going to be a pansy," he said with a scrunched up brow. "Well actually he said I was a pansy and that I needed to man up if I wanted to play with him and his friends."

I groaned inwardly, recalling our neighbors in the San Francisco apartment building. The ones I had avoided for the past year. It was almost hard to blame the kid for his ruffian ways. Johnny was a product of his environment, and his environment was filled with poor influences. His dad had the mentality of a high school football star—turned electronics salesman. When he was younger he probably got by on sports prowess and good looks; but his bad boy days had caught up to him and now Johnny Sr. was a bona-fide loser. His wife, whose name escapes me, had bleach-blond hair, a snide attitude, and rarely left her apartment without her signature knock-off handbag.

In general, I tried to keep myself. I was not the kind of girl who made a habit of borrowing sugar and befriending neighbors. I preferred anonymity. Which, when I thought about it, was probably more a result of my contrasting public life as a reporter, than it was an ingrained personality trait.

Sadly, however, I never seemed able to retain my anonymity for very long. One fateful day last January, I was late taking out the garbage and ran into Johnny Sr. who was busy stuffing down the alcoholic evidence in his recycling container. My mumbled acknowledgment of his existence was apparently mistaken as brazen flirting, because he felt the need to accidentally/on purpose turn around mid-stride and body bump me on our return trip to the apartment building. I almost fell backwards in my hasty retreat from his pudgy gut, but he caught me and held me against him. To this day I have no idea what he said when his stale beer breath assaulted my senses because his wife heard the commotion in the hallway and opened the door just in time to witness his disgusting grope-fest. I used the diversion as an opportunity to escape back into my apartment; but not before I caught him give his wife a challenging smirk. From that day forward his bitch wife hated me and went out of her way to make my life miserable. Her getting even with me usually took the form of rude passing comments to my son and purposefully dinging my truck with her car door. She also developed an uncanny sense of timing and would vacuum and hammer on the walls just as I would try to fall asleep.

Thank God we don't live in that hell hole anymore.

"Hellooo, Earth to mom. . ."

"Sorry, um, you know, a lot of times kids resort to name calling when they are trying to make them feel better about themselves. Don't let stuff like that bring you down," I said and knelt down to his level. "You're better than that."

"You're right, besides, there's nothing wrong with dress up tea parties," Zephyr said confidently as he switched off the bathroom light and walked out. I stood rooted to the bathroom floor with wide eyes for a moment wondering if I just heard him correctly.

"Uh, Zeph?" I said questioningly, following him back to the bedroom.

"Who were you playing dress up tea party with?"

"Oh, it was Madison Shenke, during free choice time in Ms. Townsend's class."

I knew my son could be a bit eccentric at times, but it concerned me that he spent his free time playing dress up. "So, you like dress up a lot then?" I asked, trying to keep a nonchalant tone to my voice.

"Nah, I prefer the Lego area, but if you want to play with the cute girls you gotta go where the girls are," he said, wiggling his brow.

"You stinker!" I snatched a pillow off his bed and knocked him over with it. It only took seconds to goad him into a pillow fight, but the fun came to a screeching halt when I realized he was going to mess up my hair.

"Alright, get your boots on, I have to check my hair and we need to get a move on if we are going to be on time for your first day of school."

I hustled back to my bedroom and checked on my hair. I had twisted it up into a clip and pulled a few wispy pieces down behind my ears. The 'do hadn't suffered major damage. I took the remaining large curlers out of my hair, at the base of my neck, and the pieces fell down over my collar. I pushed my long bangs behind my ear and finished it off with a little hairspray. I was planning to corner Edward Cullen for a story today and wanted to look fierce. I grabbed my tall brown boots out of the closet. Heels would probably be sexier, but the rain and my fear of falling required a sensible wardrobe. I took a turn in the mirror and winked at myself before walking out of the bedroom.

Cullen isn't going to know what hit him.

I got to the office around 10 a.m. Unfortunately, there were two messages from Carlisle Cullen's secretary and the last one sounded kind of snippy. She had left it five minutes before I walked in the door.

"Miss Swan, this is Marie, Mr. Cullen's secretary at The Seattle Enterprise. This is the third message we've left requesting your attendance for a lunch meeting at the Broadmoor Country Club. Please get back with me soon. Mr. Cullen has a busy schedule and I need to work in a few other appointments once this luncheon is confirmed."

A few desks down I witnessed a stilted conversation between Jake and Rose that ended with clipped words, a death stare from Rose, and Jake stalking back to the photo desk. I erased the message and dug Edward Cullen's business card out of my briefcase. Knowing I would likely just get another snippy secretary, I passed over the phone number and typed in Edward's email address on my computer.

Hopefully you read your own emails and remember me from the chamber dinner.

I hit the send button and rather than twiddle my thumbs nervously waiting for the response, I called back Carlisle Cullen's secretary.

"Hello Marie? This is Isabella Swan. You left me a couple of messages earlier?"

"Oh, thank you for getting back with me," she replied.

"Well, unfortunately I am not able to make it for lunch today. I have a lot of work on my plate and I am not interested in a future at The Seattle Enterprise." I spoke quietly in hopes that no one would overhear the conversation.

"I see. Mr. Cullen will likely not appreciate this news. He is used to getting what he wants."

"Yes, well, I am a busy woman Marie. Please tell him I said 'thank you' for the offer."

I turned around to hang up the phone and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Rose standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, with her jaw clenched in obvious anger. I hung up the phone and braced myself for Rose's wrath.

"I'm in need of a cup of coffee, Bella. And you are just the girl to buy it for me."

I bit my bottom lip and took a furtive glance around the newsroom to see if anyone noticed our exchange. Marcus was in the middle of a phone call with an angry reader and Jake was loading equipment into his bag. I reached into my desk drawer to grab my purse and stood up to follow Rose's lead.

"I guess you heard me on the phone, and I can explain." I started, before Rose cut me off.

"Save it. I have questions and you are going to provide me with some answers." I swallowed down my fear and nodded in response. No wonder Rose got such great stories, she took no prisoners. She scared the shit out of me and I just hoped she would listen to my explanation when I got the chance.

We walked down the street in silence, and within two blocks there was a Starbucks. Rose ordered a venti caramel macchiato with four shots and I stuck to my usual small mocha with whipped cream and paid the girl behind the register. She asked us if we wanted to try a sample of the new Starbucks instant coffee and I was about to decline when Rose piped up.

"So let me get this straight, you spend like 10 years convincing the entire world to chuck the shitty tasting instant coffee from a can, only to bring it back with a fancy logo and dress it up in a tea bag and we are just supposed to follow along like lemmings?"

Behind the counter, a second barista called out our drinks. Looking to rescue the poor cashier, who resembled a deer caught in headlights, I took Rose by the elbow, grabbed our drinks and left the girl a $5 tip.

"Jesus, Rose, you really need to get a grip. That kid makes minimum wage and does not deserve your abuse." I pulled out a chair for her, set down her coffee and took a seat across the table. Rose had raised her eyebrows expectantly, but followed suit. "Look, I don't know what you think you overheard in my phone conversation, but I had a run in with Carlisle Cullen at the Seattle Chamber of Commerce dinner Friday night. Somehow he got my email address and sent me a message over the weekend requesting my attendance at a country club lunch date this afternoon. What you heard was my polite let down."

"Oh yeah? Because I overheard a reporter at the court house this morning say that there was fresh meat up for grabs at the King County Reporter and Cullen was planning on stealing her away. You are the only fresh meat Bella, so excuse me if I jumped to conclusions when I heard you on the phone mentioning the Enterprise," Rose said with an exasperated sigh.

We sat in silence for a few moments staring at each other, before she continued. "I guess I am a little paranoid. A few months ago, Cullen lured away our entire graphics department and I got stuck working the night shift for three fucking weeks laying out the sports section."

Fucking tears. Great. Now she's gonna think I'm a pussy.

This was my absolute worst trait. Whenever I got really mad, I cried. I hated it with a passion.

I felt my anger dissipate and figured I would cut Rose some slack. "Look, my best friend works at The Enterprise. He put the idea in Cullen's head that I would be a valuable conquest. I knew that Emmett worked for a different Seattle newspaper when I was looking for work, but I wanted to get a job based on merit, not who I knew," I said.

I stopped berating myself and wiped my eyes. "The Reporter was the only place that had a business writer position open and I needed a job. Please don't tell anyone, I just got Zephyr registered for school… I don't think I could bear to move him again."

I looked up at her from under my eyelashes and bit my lip, waiting for her to determine my fate. She seemed startled by my admission and appeared to be processing what I'd said.

"School–wait you have a kid?" she asked, not really waiting for an answer. She handed me another napkin to wipe my eyes and offered me an apology. "I guess I'm not a trusting person by nature. I've worked hard to get where I am and I just want to be on a winning team. I have no interest in screwing up your life, Bella." She reached across the table and took my hand in hers. The relief I felt at her gesture washed over me and I felt the flood gates that held back my tears, let loose.

"Me too, Rose. I need this job and my son needs some stability. If I ever plan to leave The Reporter, you'll be the first to know?"

"Alright, fair enough," she said, nodding. "C'mon let's get you cleaned up and get back to the office. I have a feeling Carlisle Cullen isn't accustomed to being told no and I have a sneaking suspicion that he isn't going to take it lightly." She stood up and pushed in her chair. "I think you are going to want to be in the newsroom when the shit hits the fan."

Lunch came without incident and I was hopeful that Rose had been wrong about Carlisle. I had waited for two hours for a return phone call from the public relations officer for Seattle Cycle Tours and I was starting to lose confidence in being able to get the story about Edward Cullen's business expansion. My anxiety was at an all time high, so I busied myself with rewriting business briefs and looking for a replacement story for Tuesday's edition.

My phone rang at 1:15.

The voice on the other end didn't even wait for my hello.

"Ms. Swan you have a delivery at the front desk," the secretary said.

"Alright, I'll be right down," I responded.

All the way down the elevator I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what the delivery could be. When I walked through the double doors of the main office and saw the giant bouquet of Asiatic lilies, I blanched. Sure enough, they were for me and sticking straight out of the vase was a card without an envelope that read: Bella Swan, so sorry you were not able to meet me for lunch today. It was signed Carlisle Cullen, The Seattle Enterprise.

The need to substantiate my loyalty to The King County Reporter story meant that I needed to up the voltage on my determination to get Edward Cullen to talk to me. It drove me across town and, like a marionette, I let it march me through the front doors and announce that I was there to see Mr. Cullen.

Confusion crossed the face of the secretary as she reopened his appointment book.

"I'm sorry, he has appointments all day and "Bella Swan" isn't in here anywhere. Did you get the day wrong, perhaps I can look under next week…?"

Lady luck was on my side because just then I saw him roll his bike through the front door of the office, sheathed in sweat.

"Cindy, I'm going to need you to call Jasper. I caught a flat along the water front and my ride took longer than I expec– " he stopped talking mid-sentence when he saw me standing there. With knitted brows Edward looked at me with a confused smile. "Miss Swan, right?"

It's now or never.

I offered him my best flirtatious smile and bit the inside of my cheek.

"Mr. Cullen. I was hoping to talk to you for a quick moment, could you fit me in?"

"Sure, um, give me a moment to get cleaned up. Cindy, show Ms. Swan into my office and hold my calls for the time being."

"What do you want me to tell Jasper, Mr. Cullen, your board meeting is in less than two hours?"

"Tell him I'm talking to beautiful woman," he answered, and shot me a mischievous grin. "He'll understand."

My knees went weak and I watched Edward down the hall. The man practically exuded sex and I took note of his large, muscular thighs and arms as he walked away from me. My fantasies that involved helping him clean up were interrupted by the secretary clearing her throat.

"Miss Swan?" Her eyebrows were raised and her expression was tinged with challenge. "Right this way."

I tapped my foot nervously and looked up at the clock. Two-thirty. I found myself focusing on the sound of the second hand whisking away my options. I had less than three hours to pull a rabbit out of my hat and my stomach was in knots. The office door opened and a freshly showered Edward Cullen came in and walked behind the desk.

"I'm not usually caught off guard, but I'll admit, I'm a little surprised by your visit, Miss Swan," he said, pouring a glass of water from the carafe at the corner of his desk. He was transformed and wearing freshly pressed, grey tweed pants, a white button down shirt, and a skinny black leather tie. He leaned back with his glass and took a long swig. I opened my mouth a little and licked my lips, imagining what he would taste like. My momentary distraction with his mouth did not go unnoticed.

"So, I'm flattered—really, but if you were hoping for a date, you could have just called."

My inner feminist roared and jolted me out of my sex-induced stupor.

"Well, Mr. Cullen, I hate to rain on your parade, but I am here on business. I did call, three times actually and I couldn't wait any longer. At the chamber dinner the other night you mentioned your expansion and plan to go public, and I'd like to be the one to write the story."

His amusement faltered, but Edward narrowed his eyes. I could tell that behind his suave demeanor he was a shrewd businessman. "You do realize that if I needed publicity, I have an entire media conglomerate at my finger tips. Why would I allow you to write the story?"

"Because, Mr. Cullen, when it comes to writing these types of stories, I'm the best. If your father's newspaper ran the story it would look contrived, manipulative. Even your PR department would have to admit that having your father's competition run the story would be more likely to capture the hearts and minds of the business community, by the sheer virtue of it being legitimate news." I realized that sometime during my soap box tirade I stood up and had assumed an aggressive stance. Edward seemed to like it, because rather than shy away from me, he walked around to the front of the desk.

My breath caught when he reached out and rubbed my cheek bone with the side of his forefinger.

"You're sure that is all you're looking for, Miss Swan?"

I blinked and pushed aside the arousal that threatened to betray me and my irritation flared.

"Are you and your Dad tag teaming or something? Well, if you were hoping for some sort of pervy three-way thing, you can just forget it. I'll quit my job first. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Cullen."

Edward got to the door before me and held it shut. "Will you just stop and shut up for minute? Look, I'm not interested in starting a war with my father over this expansion, but that is where it ends. What are you talking about, a three-way? Far be it for me to turn down an adventure, but I am certainly not one for sharing–especially not when it's my cheating, bastard father." His jaw and fists clenched.

I made my way around the newsroom, noting the already wilting monstrosity in the trash can next to my desk. I checked my messages before making my way to my editor's desk.

"Marcus, are you busy?"

His expression was guarded. After spending an hour with him and in my managing editor's office explaining why I had received flowers from our arch rival, I assured Marcus that I could get the story I needed from Edward.

"Well?" he asked, expectantly.

"It'll be in your inbox within the hour." I smiled.

He shook his head with a chuckle and smiled out of the side of his mouth. "Well I'll be damned, girl. You've got gumption. Folks," he called out to the newsroom. "Pass Bella the rubber chicken. She's earned it."

I felt my face heat up when 30 sets of eyes settled on me, yet somehow I managed to make my way back without making a fool of myself. Rose looked up from her vigorous typing to give me the thumbs up.

"Way to go, Bella. I knew you had it in ya."

Even on the drive to pick up Zephyr from his after school program, I couldn't find it in me to wipe the shit eating grin off my face. The rest of our night was fairly uneventful. After Zeph fell asleep, I stayed up late to decompress from my day. Between my confrontations with Rose and Edward and almost losing my job, I had been through the ringer. Trying to get my mind off of the day's events, I researched a few story leads and caught the latest online issue of the Christian Science Monitor.

At precisely one a.m. I yawned, trying to keep my eyes open long enough to read the day's Reporter load on my computer screen. The copy desk put the paper to bed at midnight and, like clockwork, the issue was live on the Internet an hour later. I could almost feel the loud hum of the presses that I knew was reverberating through newsroom at that moment.

Sure enough, third story from the top was a photograph of the devastatingly beautiful Edward Cullen. God, even in pictures he is pretty.

The headline screamed 'scoop' and read: Seattle Cycle Tours expansion launches Cullen corporation on NYSE.

Eat your heart out, Carlisle Cullen.

A/N: K. I know it has been too long since my last post. However, I'm back, and plan to be more diligent with the updates. In the meantime, hop on over to my profile and check out the steamy one-shot I wrote last week titled Courthouse Candy. Next chapter of NW will bring us a glimpse of the infamous Carlisle Cullen. Also want to give a shout out to my beautiful and talented Beta Mopstyle. She has a fabulous angsty Jasper/Bella story I'm loving right now called Into Strangers and I am also currently fangirling over Beautiful, Dirty, Rich by Kiki Blue and Devil's Angel by Obsessing Over Edward. If you want a teaser of my next chapter, leave me a review!