Chapter 9

Once Edward entered Isabella's condo, he felt ashamed and dirty just being there. Each wall featured windows that hung from floor to ceiling, and curtains that cost more than his car. Even from his entry view, he could notice the fabric of the furniture was genuine Italian leather. The marble floors were nothing like the ones at his home, and her rugs were Persian.

The living room itself was the size of his entire apartment alone, and a centralized fireplace was in the front center of the room. Expensive decorative paintings adorned the light taupe walls, and the contrast of browns, cream, and gold of the chairs and ottomans were no different. Personal photos of family were right atop of the mantle and a large flat screen was hovering above.

Edward wanted to get a better look at the personal photos, but Isabella walked in the opposite direction, leading Edward to the open dining room, where a formal meal was spread out. A large grand piano also caught his eye to the right, and he pondered momentarily if she played.

"Sit down," she commanded, and so Edward did, taking a seat. He was too frightened of breaking any of the crystal glasses, so he touched nothing, merely keeping his hands in his lap. Even the napkins before him were a shade of stark white, and he was too destitute to even consider grazing it with his fingers.

Edward eyed the feast hungrily, as he had forgotten to eat the soup his mother had prepared earlier. There was a lavish roast in the center, garnished with leaves and seasonings he had probably never even heard of. He recognized the asparagus and the rice, but the other foods that filled the bowls were unrecognizable.

Isabella took her seat, not bothering to cover herself with another garment. He was quite warm, but it was most likely from the nervous adrenaline running through his veins. He rationalized that she must be freezing. Her nipples were taut against the sheer fabric of her brassiere.

Taking both of their glasses, Isabella filled them to the brim with Chianti wine, and formally placed Edwards' in his hands.

"A toast," she began sultry. "To legends."

She raised her glass and her eyes twinkled above as she waited for his words to mimic hers. Edward had no idea why she would want to toast 'legends,' but he was not one to ask questions. He raised his glass as well until it clinked against hers.

"To legends."

Always taught to be a gracious host, Isabella served both of their dishes, explaining all of the cuisine and the history behind them. They ate in silence, enjoying the meal with fervor and sipping the wine until they were both full.

After a dessert of cheesecake, Isabella put her silverware down and glanced at Edward. She had always recognized his handsome looks, but it was his imperfections under the light of the crystal chandelier that impressed her as well. She noticed how his hair was constant irritation for him, and he brushed it constantly. His face was sculptured flawlessly and the unevenness of his nose only added to his handsome appearance.

Considering his introverted demeanor, she wondered if he ever noticed just how beautiful he was.

Across the table, Edward was also thinking along the similar lines. He fully appreciated Isabella's tight curves, and long frame, but it was the little features that captured his attention. Her bottom lip was full and plump from her wine drinking, and she often tucked her hair behind her ear. If one was really aware, they would detect how she was strong and confident, yet a layer of docility hid beneath the surface. He understood why she was callous with him often; she had a lifestyle that was burdensome. Not everyone comprehended that. She truly loved her business and would protect it at all costs. Her devotion and strength made her even more gorgeous than the physical aspects themselves.

"Thank you for the meal," Edward stated ever so courteously. He made sure he minded his manners, even though his unemployment was just over the horizon.

"You are welcome," Isabella replied, stunned at his compliment. "My Mama is a fine cook. She taught me well."

Silence hung in the atmosphere, before each party started to speak at once.

"Isabella, are you going to fire-"

"Edward, I brought you here because-"

They both laughed nervously.

"Ladies first," Edward offered generously, twisting his hands in his lap. If he was going to be without a job, he wanted to get it over with. He needed to call a cab soon. Arriving late in his neighborhood was not a good idea.

Isabella took a deep breath and started over. "Edward, why did you call me last night?"

Startled by the question, he fumbled with his napkin. "Oh, I needed to talk to you about the job. I was seeing if I could get an extra gig or two during the week."

Isabella frowned at his answer and shook her head. "You get paid plenty, why do you need extra appointments?"

Edward sighed and even he could see that whatever answer he gave would not sit well. She didn't understand. Wrong side of the tracks was a phrase she didn't, no couldn't, grasp.

Not wanting to give anything away, Edward hesitated on his answer.

How do you tell your boss your family hardly had enough to eat and the money the government gave for food barely got them through the month?

How do you tell a woman whose shoes cost more than his rent that his family froze in the wintertime and nearly passed out in the summer heat because they were too poor to fix the thermostat?

How do you tell a "fucking richie" that you needed money to move out of the ghetto so that your twin brother could leave the army and not worry about killing himself on the front lines so that they could have a roof over their heads?

How do you explain that your father is a drunk and that you believe if you could just have enough money to buy a house that maybe he would stop and finally be a Dad again?

You couldn't.

So he gave the next best answer possible.

"I'm saving up to buy a car," Edward reasoned.

Isabella laughed. "A car?"

"Umm, yes?" he answered, praying she would accept his answer. "I mean, yes. I would like to buy a car. The one I own now is breaking down, and I would like a new one."

Isabella studied his expression for a moment. "You've been with Twilight a little while. You don't have enough yet?"

"Well, no…I mean yes…" Edward stuttered. "I mean I have enough to make payments, but I would like to buy one outright. So that's why I need more appointments."

Isabella regretfully shook her head. "Sorry, I can't. It's a liability. If something were to happen to you, we would be a man short. If you work too hard, then you'll get tired easily. Sex is enjoyable. But fucking…that shit wears you out."

Edward had to drag his eyes away from her lips when she talked so candidly. But that was not the answer he was looking for. The longer it took to earn money, the longer he would have to be a whore.

And that's not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

"How about just one extra gig a week? That's all I'm asking. Please? Please Isabella? Please?"

If Isabella had listened closely enough, she would have heard the desperation in his voice. She would have considered the situation he was in, and what he was truly asking for. She might have even learned that Edward Cyllen was not a begging man, but he would do anything to help his family. Even sacrifice himself.

But Isabella was a selfish woman. What others perceived as desperation, she only understood that more gigs for Edward meant more of him fucking other women.

She couldn't explain why that bothered her, but it did. So she harshly turned down his request without a second thought.

"No."

"What?" The question left Edward's lips before he could stop himself.

"What do you mean, what? I said no, and I mean no. That's final."

"Fine."

Edward's next actions were without pondering, without deliberation. It was not planned, but he was on his feet before he could react. Anger was building up in the midst of his being, and he could not control it.

Edward, comparable to the cowardly lion, was finally growing courage. Or as the modern day phrase might claim:

He was growing a pair.

"No wonder you refuse give me more jobs. It's because you're going to fire me! I don't know why you couldn't just do it over the phone. No. Instead you had to drag my sorry ass all the way here, feed me a good meal that I'll never be able to enjoy again, just to tell me what a loser I am. But if you think you are gonna get some from me before you send me to the unemployment agency, then you have another thing coming, woman! I will not be used. I am a human being! I have feelings too. Just 'cause you're the boss and you think you are hot shit, doesn't mean anything. I refuse-"

That was all it took.

Isabella was on the other side of the table before she could come to terms with what she was doing. Her lips crashed against Edwards' in a mad fury of hatred and lust. How dare he yell at her! How dare he speak to her with such ferocity! She was not a woman that was accustomed to such disrespectful behavior, and yet, it stirred up a passion in her that she could not cease.

Edward, on the other hand, should have pushed her away in disgust. It was incomprehensible that she thought she could always control him sexually. However, when her delicate tongue entered his mouth, he was beyond all sense of restraint. He couldn't pull away her hands that had tangled into his hair, nor could he resist the way her lower body pressed against his growing erection. He was surrounded by the aroma of her vanilla scent, and the sensation of their mouths greedily kissing one another.

But he knew if he continued, he would hate himself tomorrow.

"Stop," he said, pulling away, holding her firmly by her arms.

Isabella, still aroused by the heat of his body, stood in shock at his declaration.

"Stop. I mean it. I am not some toy you can play with and then throw away when you grow tired. I only wanted this job to make money, but not like this. Not so you can fire me just after a few-"

Isabella regained her composure and knit her brows together. "Why do you keep saying that? I'm not firing you."

"What?"

She blew out a breath of frustrated air and stared into his dark lust filled eyes. "I'm not firing you. Whatever gave you that idea?"

Feeling foolish, Edward began to count off his reasons. "Well, first you canceled my appointment tonight. Then, you brought me here and Harry said you never bring anyone to your condo. Then, you wouldn't give me more dates throughout the week, then-"

Isabella cut off his absurd theories. "First of all, I didn't entirely cancel your appointment. I merely turned the job over to Jacob. Second of all, Harry is correct. I don't invite everyone over, so you should consider yourself privileged. Thirdly, I already told you I am not booking you more dates because you will grow weary. Your body needs to rest when it can. If you had waited, I would have explained to you that I brought you over here to ask you some questions. Yes, I very well could have delayed this conversation until tomorrow at the office, but it's more on the personal side and I wanted a chance to speak to you privately. But it's obvious that you are looking for a way out. If you don't want to work anymore, all you had to do was say so."

With her hands positioned on her hips, Isabella looked at Edward expectantly. He appeared to be truly embarrassed for his actions, and she concluded that he was so unlike her other employees. If Paul or one of the other men were in his situation, they would immediately start flying off at the mouth with excuses for their actions.

Edward was not just your average man.

He flustered under the scrutiny of her eyes and twisted his foot slightly. Isabella decided to put him out of his misery.

"It was less than proper for me to request your presence here, without you knowing the reason. Because of that, this evening has turned out to be less than enjoyable. I will let you sleep on it tonight, and if you wish to continue your employment, then I will see you in two days, seven o'clock sharp. If not, then I know you will have made your decision."

Edward found his grounding, and pondered how the tables had turned. "But I-"

Isabella found no reason to continue this conversation, or this gathering of puzzling minds. "Seven a.m. I will call a cab for you so that you may have a ride home. Goodnight, Mr. Cyllen."

She spun on the heels of her feet, and sauntered out of the room with her robe flowing behind her. In that moment, she decided that she would no longer invite guests to her condominium. As she dialed the number of a local cab company since she figured Harry would be busy, she knew now why she considered her home sacred.

She peeked out the door to make Edward was gone, but he had left one significant piece of evidence that he had been there.

Isabella could still taste Edward in her mouth.

Never again will he come over, she thought as she pulled her vibrator out of her nightstand.

Never again.