Disclaimer: I don't own them...

Thanks to SunflowerFran3759 for making this pretty :)

Isabella:

South Carolina

Stepping out of the airport into the fresh, cool air was...nice. Cleansing. I filled my lungs a few times before moving out onto the sidewalk.

A horn beep several times in a row and I turned to my left. Emmett's goofy face was behind the wheel, waving frantically with one hand.

I laughed, waving back.

He pulled up next to me and jumped out of the car. "Bella!" He shouted, and then wrapped me in a tight hug. "I'm so happy you're here."

Emmett and Jasper have been best friends since middle school. And me, I'm his little sister by association.

"Hi, Em. It's so good to see you."

"We are going to have so much fun. People don't quite understand me here, Bells. Can you believe I intimidate people?"

I looked up at him in mock horror, "No!"

"Yes," He sighed, sadly, and then flexed his muscles. "They just don't know how to appreciate my massive hunkiness."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Well, obviously they haven't taken the time to talk to you. Otherwise, they'd realize you're also, a massive dork."

He smiled, "I do have that going for me."

After my bags were in the trunk, and Emmett was sure I as safely buckled in, we headed toward Charleston.

"Are you doing okay, sweet cheeks?"

I shrugged, but didn't answer.

"Listen," he said, seriously, and I turned to look over at him. He glanced at me, but kept his eyes on the road in front of us. "I know that every breakup sucks ass for you. I never met Alex, but Jas said he was a good guy. But, he wasn't the guy," he said, sincerely, glancing at me again. "You should hold out for that guy that makes you go all goo-goo eyed, you know? Like in those cartoons, where the eyes go all swirly, and the birds fly around your head."

I was ready to argue, but he kept talking.

"I just think, I don't know," he frowned. "This time away, here in SC will be good for you. Help you clear your head. You and me, we are a lot alike. We run away."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up his beefy hand, "We run away. Remember me? Running away from L.A. after Angela gutted me? I can admit it. I didn't cope well. And right now you are running away.

"I almost quit. I was going to move to Tennessee to live with my brother, but Jas and Phil talked me out of it and put me in charge of this office. They gave me a business plan, gave me expectations, forecasted the sales, and outlined what I needed to do to put the business in a position to succeed. It kept me focused, helped me move forward. That's why Jasper didn't hesitate to send you here.

"The change of scenery will be good for you. And the people here are nice, Bella, really. People actually stop to say hello and chat, not like in L.A. where people can't even be bothered to slow down when they see you."

I hadn't thought about why Emmett moved here in a long time. Angela is, was, one of my best friends. She and Emmett dated all through high school and college. He was planning to propose, but then she started having feelings for a man she worked with at UCLA Medical Center, a radiologist.

Every time I dreamt of her, she faded, just a little. But I couldn't see why, she hadn't made any decisions, she was just slowly distancing herself.

I was the one that found Emmett at a bar in Chinatown; drinking and crying and asking Brandon (the bartender) why Angela didn't love him anymore.

It was so hard to see my friend, my big brother, this way. It took a while to get him out of the bar, and Brandon had to help me get him into the car.

I spent the next two weeks with him, making sure he ate, and showered, and went into work. It was shortly after, that Phil announced he was opening an office in South Carolina and Emmett was going to be managing it.

That was a year ago. And now here I am, our roles reversed. Emmett is taking care of me.

I spent the rest of the drive staring out of the passenger window, thinking about what Emmett said. I've never opened myself up enough to love, with my whole heart. I've always been guarded, waiting for the shoe to drop, or the picture to develop.

"Here we are, Bellaboo."

I snapped up. There was an iron gate with a guard post. Emmett used a card to open the gate and we made our way toward the front of the house. The path was made of paver stones in various colors with solid trim and lush vegetation along each side. There were three large garage bays to the left of the front door. Emmett parked in front of the garages, and we exited the car making our way up a small set of steps to the front door.

Emmett pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to me.

I slipped the key into the groove in the handle and slid the door open. The entryway was large and open; painted a beige color with white trim. A marble console table with a large vase of flowers stood to my right, and on the left was a large rounded doorway that led to a living room with a large bay window. Beyond the window, I could see an old tree that twisted in the most beautiful way. Leaves were sparse, but a gorgeous landscape was visible beyond.

The house is extravagant, which is no surprise considering Phil and my mother's tastes, but it is beautiful. New, and modern, and big.

"You're staying here too, right?" I asked, turning toward Emmett.

"Nah, I'm renting a place near the office."

"Emmett, please come stay here with me. This place is huge. There are probably five bedrooms," I kept moving through the house. Lots of living and family areas, an off-season porch next to the main family room. And the kitchen...no wonder my mother bought this place, it's gorgeous. Natural stone counters, a butler's pantry, stainless steel appliances, and a huge island in the middle of the kitchen.

And the breakfast nook has a huge bay window overlooking the lawn and a dock beyond.

My mother maintained a casual coastal decor throughout the house that made the large home inviting and comforting.

Emmett and I walked through the house oohing, and aahing, pointing out small items that needed to be repaired or changed out. This was our area of expertise, making sure the house flowed smoothly through each room, and transitioned and stayed true to the original style of the home.

We walked into one of the guest rooms that had an attached porch. I opened the french doors and a crisp breeze billowed into the room. Stepping outside, I took in the property. There was a lake or creek visible from up here, and a covered dock with an outdoor dining set and a fishing boat attached to the dock.

I'm starting to think it was a great idea to move here.

Emmett was standing next to me, taking in the landscape. "So, what do you say? Roommates?"

"Bella, your parents bought this place for you. I can't stay here."

"What? Come on, Emmett, my parents adore you. And we counted five bedrooms, three living rooms and five bathrooms. I think we can both fit in the tight space," I rolled my eyes.

He was still frowning, and not quite convinced, so I had to lay it on thick...I lay my hand on his arm, "honestly, Emmett, I don't want to be here alone. I need the company, the distraction. Please? I'll pay to break the contract on your lease."

"You don't have to do that, Bella. Are you sure you want me here? I'm messy, and loud, and I eat a lot."

I smiled brightly. "Yes! Pick your room. I'm going to call Daddy and let him know we're here."

An hour later, Emmett and I went out to dinner and then stopped by his apartment to pick up some of his clothes, and his laptop. He also took me by the office and gave me a tour, while he picked up some files to prepare for our meeting on Monday morning.

I sat at the kitchen island with the file and blueprints spread out in front of me.

The Masen Estate.

The blueprints were amazing, as were the pictures of the exterior and interior of the home. Emmett and I would be meeting Mr. Edward Masen at the property, to go over every detail. His interview with us would be very different from what we are used to.

My understanding is that Mr. Masen will walk us through the house, giving us a detailed history of the home. After the tour, Emmett and I will be asked for our assessment and suggestions on the restoration. If we are on target with what Mr. Masen has in mind, we will acquire the contract. If not, he will thank us and send us on our way.

I am a little intimidated by this interview process. But I think it is a wonderful way for Mr. Masen to get a handle on what type of contractor he is working with. It is genius, really, and I hope we get the job. I have a feeling it will be an amazing project to work on.

I haven't had any dreams about this place, which is a little strange, but not overtly so. Nor have I ever met anyone having to do with the property. Touching someone, or seeing them in person, is what usually triggers the images. I imagine I will be flooded with them when we get to the house.

I have a degree in architecture and design, but I have taken extensive courses, and done a ton of research on restoration. It's one of the fields where I love using my gift. I can see what a home looked like in its heyday. And I always do my best to ensure that the home is flawless when I'm done.

My one concern is that our firm, Whitlock Design, is new to this area. We don't have an extensive history of restoring Southern homes and plantations as other companies may have. But that doesn't mean we aren't just as good.

Let's just hope I can charm the pants off of Mr. Masen. Well, not his pants, unless he's my age, then maybe, in time, that would be nice.

Hmmm, maybe South Carolina will be a good move for me after all.

a/n: Okay, I posted two because the first one was kind of short. I hope you like it. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Thanks so much for the great reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate it! See you next week!