Chapter 5
Isabella managed to lift the large stack of manila folders from the file cabinet and searched through them until she found the one she was searching for. Seated on the floor of her office in an unladylike position, Isabella wiped away the tendrils of hair that were sweeping across her eye. This was not exactly how she wanted to spend her mornings at the office, but this needed to be done.
If I found any incriminating evidence, Edward Cyllen's days were limited.
After speaking with her brother last night, Isabella was stunned to find that Edward was the son of the man who had attempted to put her father away. He hadn't given her a reason to not trust him, of course, but that's how liars worked. They wore the face of an innocent, but had the motives of the guilty. She didn't give second chances, or for people to explain themselves. If Edward was indeed here for reasons other than to make money, his ass would be out on the street within seconds. She would make sure of that.
As the clock ticked the minutes away, she fingered her way through each of the records until she stumbled across his name. Rosalie usually handled the paperwork, Jasper managed the background checks, and Isabella had the final say during the interview. But this time, instead of her usual scan, Isabella carefully read through any information that would seem misleading or suspicious. As Roberto had mentioned earlier, Edward's current address was located on the dangerous side of D.C. No one chose to live there; where subsidized housing was the norm. It was usually infiltrated with the likes of homeless people, drug dealers and the occasional single mother down on her luck. He had no college educational degree, and worked several mediocre fast food jobs until now. Nothing seemed out of place, but it was very obvious his family members' names were not anywhere on the documents. Isabella required some sort of references and the only name he had on there was a 'family friend,' Alice Brandon.
Isabella didn't call her after his interview, immediately hiring him on the spot since he seemed so desperate to work, but now considering the circumstances, she just might have to check him out.
After shoving the additional folders back into the cabinet, Isabella hit the speaker button on her phone to summon Jasper Cameron into her office.
At the age of twenty-eight, Jasper was a quiet man of strength and intensity. With his shortly cropped blonde hair and solid physique, he still retained some of his prior Marine habits. He appeared at her door, rigid and formal as ever.
"Yes, Miss Isabella?" he asked evenly.
She thrust the manila folder into his hands before he could utter another word. "This is Edward Cyllen's paperwork. I'm going to need you to run a background check on him. I need any information within the next twenty-four hours. I want to know everything there is about him. What kind of car he drives, what he eats for breakfast, when he takes a shit. Whether its day or night, I need you to call her immediately if you find anything at all."
Jasper pulled his eyebrows together and looked at her concern. "Not to step out of line, ma'am, but we already did the background check, remember?"
Isabella sighed and tried to keep her cool, gritting through her teeth. "I know that Jasper, but that was just criminal record information. I need more. But if this is too much for you…"
She allowed her words to linger in the air, knowing he would take the bait. "Of course not. Twenty-four hours and not a second later."
He twisted on his foot and began to leave but stopped suddenly. "Oh, and there's a visitor waiting for you in the lobby."
She frowned and swiveled in her chair. "Do you know who it is?"
He shook his head, and his gaze flickered to whoever was outside of her office. "No. But she sure is pretty."
Isabella rolled her eyes at his assessment. "Goodbye Jasper."
She waved her hand towards Rosalie, nodding to the petite girl that was dressed…well, like a hooker. Her dark hair was slightly past her shoulders, and her face was beautiful, but all Isabella could focus on was her pleather, yes, pleather, skirt and jacket. Her look was completed with tacky fishnet stockings and extremely high cheap looking boots.
Isabella quirked her eyebrow at Rosalie and she shrugged, apparently not knowing who the girl was. She nodded towards her so that she could get the girl into her office.
Isabella walked back in and sat behind her desk, already appalled at the visitor. The girl came in, and sat down, chewing a large wad of bubblegum loudly.
"Spit it out," Isabella said, indicating her eyes to the trash can.
"You Isabella?" the hooker asked loudly, ignoring her previous demand.
"Yes. Now spit the gum out now," Isabella repeated. It hadn't even been a minute and she was already annoyed with her visitor.
"Sorry, no can do. I likes my Bubblicious," she said, and to prove her point, she blew a large bubble, the pink candy forming a large bubble, which she popped and chewed again with ease.
Swearing silently, Isabella struggled to keep her cool. She had never had anyone blatantly disregard her before.
"Listen up, you little bitch. You can throw that shit out in the trashcan or you can leave my fucking office. I've got better things to do."
The girl's eyes widened, and in slow motion, she removed the disgusting wad from her mouth and threw it away. "Geez, it was just gum. What crawled up your ass and died?"
Evidently the gun I'm going to shoot you with, Isabella thought ominously. It was obvious this girl had no verbal filter.
She hated her already.
Isabella quickly sized her up to be the average good girl pretending to be bad. The clothes were tawdry, but she knew expensive makeup and hair when she saw it. Those dark locks had the shine of a Paul Mitchell's commercial, but her cocky attitude was that of an over privileged college student. It didn't settle well with her.
At all.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Isabella asked bluntly.
"Those are not the questions to ask, Isabella De Luca," she said, leaning in to steal her personal space. "The question is, what can I do for you?"
Before Isabella could interrupt with a statement of her own, she continued. "You need me, Isabella. I've got tits that set me back twenty grand, a size two waist, and I can deep throat like a motherfucker. Years of gymnastics taught me to be flexible and bend every which way humanly possible. Every man I have ever been with has always been left satisfied, and wanting more. I can fuck multiple men at the same time, or do the dirty with a girl. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you are only pulling in several million a year and I can triple your profits with just my pussy alone."
She pauses and pulls out portfolio from her large bag. "Here is my background, completed and without any prior offenses. Also included are my resume, several references, and my tests, which I can proudly say are clean and clear. You wanna go through my papers, that's fine. But you remember that you are losing both time and money. And if there's one thing I don't fuck with, it's money. You look over that and get back to me when you can."
The girl stood and grabbed her bag, adjusting it over her shoulder. Isabella was so dumbfounded; she didn't notice her visitor nearly exiting the door. Her snarky attitude had her more intrigued than she wanted to admit.
"Wait! What's your name?" Isabella asked, not bothering to look at her papers.
"Alicia," she answered simply.
"But you can call me Alice. Alice Brandon."
It didn't take her long to connect the dots that this was the same name on Edward's application. Isabella wasn't sure if that's how she found out about her business; it's not as if they went around advertising on the local transit bus.
To see if she could live up to all that she propositioned, Isabella pressed the call button on her phone.
"Emmett?"
"Yeah, BB?" the gruff voice uttered through the speaker.
"I've got a newbie in her office claiming to have pussy made of gold," Isabella stated, raising her eyebrow. "I need you in here to test her out."
"Let's see exactly how much she's worth."