Disclaimer: I don't own them...

Thank you, thank you SunflowerFran for making this look good.

Edward

"Carlisle," I said, exasperated. " Look at his case file. I know you always believe the best in people, but this?" I shook my head. I had only been here a few days and this was the first case I've been assigned since starting work at my father's office. I knew he wouldn't be happy that I was in here complaining about it, but it needs to be done.

My father sat in his chair with an air of authority. One leg crossed over the other, an elbow resting on the arm of his chair, head tilted, and strong determination on his face. He refused to believe a lawyer in his firm would be any less than honorable.

But I would not back down on this. There is no way I will allow some low-life, conniving drug dealer, to make me question my career and my morals. And I refuse to let an attorney at this firm sully my father's, my family's, name.

My father maintained eye contact with me, and whatever he saw made him pull the file from his desk. He calmly flipped from page to page, scanning, reading. His eyes moving quickly across the page, and then his fingers started trailing the words. He frowned, and flipped another page, skimming the words until his eyes narrowed.

His blue eyes met mine, and he gave me a quick nod. "What do you propose we do?"

"Well, the client's father has a meeting with us this afternoon. I think we should be upfront and advise him that we cannot represent his son."

"You do realize that Mr. Hollingworth, II, is a powerful man. His money and influence can create problems for us."

I tilted my head and looked at my father. He has been an attorney for more than thirty years. His reputation in the community is impeccable. Our family name, Masen, has even more influence than the name Cullen. Our family is a staple in this city.

Hollingsworth is new money; pushy, arrogant, and expectant. They may be able to ruffle a few feathers, but damage our name, our reputation? I don't think so.

"Perhaps," I answered. "But our family has been in this community a long time. If you turn him away, I'm fairly confident no one will think twice about a man running his mouth, when they find out his son is dealing drugs to their children."

My father raised an eyebrow at me. "All right, you're okay handling this meeting?"

"Sure," I let out a long breath. "You might want to have security on call, just in case."

My father nodded and picked up the phone.

The wind was blowing something fierce outside. I sat in the covered patio of my parent's home with a tumbler of vodka and watched the trees sway in the wind.

I couldn't hear the wind, but the sway of the trees, and the movement of the clouds was helping to soothe my frazzled nerves.

Mr. Hollingsworth the second was not happy that we were refusing to represent his son. He yelled and threw empty threats at us; before he collapsed in his seat and began pleading with me. He knew his son had a problem, but he was having a difficult time making him accountable for his actions.

I apologized and explained that our firm had already gone above and beyond to help him, and there was nothing more we could do.

The man gathered himself, smoothed his tie and lapels, and shook my hand, before making his way out of our office.

The entire scene had set me on edge for some reason. Mr. Hollingsworth II was not in control, and could not reign in his son James. It's that light bulb moment in your life when things click into place.

I'd had one of those moments, recently, and it hit too close to home. Breaking down in my apartment in New York, with my grandfather's hand on my head, it finally hit me that Kate wasn't coming back; I couldn't fix her, help her, love her the way she needed me to. The way I wanted to.

I had been holding out hope that the woman I fell in love with would come home to me. That the woman I proposed to would open the front door with a smile meant only for me. I wanted to feel her warmth in our bed. I missed her scent, her voice, her love. I missed her love most of all. I liked knowing that she needed me, that she craved me as I craved her.

My eyes blurred and I closed them, not allowing the moisture to escape. My throat was tight, and I swallowed several times to loosen it, to get past the growing emotion.

Opening my eyes, I stared at the ceiling for a few moments. This has to get easier, right? This despair...I just wish she had let me take care of her. We could have taken care of one another. I could have cried with her, we could have had some closure. We could have tried again.

The tears streamed down the side of my face, I couldn't stop them.

I felt small arms wrap around my shoulders, and I let myself cry.

The Masen Estate was my favorite place growing up. There were so many areas to hide, and my grandparents never had a place that was off limits.

I used to go into my mother's old bedroom and listen to her records. Some of them made me laugh, while others had me humming along with the melody. Grandma Lizzie never let anyone take my mother's room apart. It still looks exactly as it did the day she left for college. My grandfather kept it that way, probably for my grandmother's sake. He misses her deeply.

As I walked around the house, I could see that it was fraying at the edges. A little less shiny than it had been, a little sadder now that my grandmother was gone. But it also felt as if the house was finished with the mourning process, and was ready to be revived. It was strange how an inanimate object can seem to feel that way.

My grandfather was still living in the guest house on my parents' property, but he had been making daily visits here. Spending time getting things ready, having furniture sent out for re-upholstering, ordering replacement fixtures. I'm not sure what kicked him into gear, but it seems that he has been 'talking' to Grandma Lizzie more often than not.

I walked out of the back door to take a look at the grounds, and my eyes popped open in surprise. It was a mess. We definitely needed a landscape architect. I pulled out my phone and made a note in my memo application. I'd been making a list of questions to ask since my grandfather suggested that Rosalie and I help with the project. Whenever Rose would text me something, I'd add it to our list.

Our love for this house is great, and we want it to be perfect when it's done.

I heard the front door open and Charlotte's voice echoed through the house.

"Hello, Isabelle, Emmett."

I straightened up a bit, Isabelle's brown eyes flashing in my memory.

"Mr. Masen and Rosalie are on their way. He asked that you get started, they won't be too long."

"Great, thank you," Isabelle answered. She sounded happy, excited.

I heard a loud clap and then Emmett's voice rang out, "Let's do this."

I chuckled and made my way into the living room.

Isabelle turned toward the sound of my footsteps. "Edward," she whispered.

I felt heat on my face and smiled. "Hello, Isabelle."

"Hey, Edward, I didn't realize you were here," Emmett called out, clapping his hand roughly on my back.

"Emmett, nice to see you, I've been walking around the grounds. Uh," I pointed toward the window. "Does your firm do landscape architecture, as well? I didn't realize that the grounds were in such a sad state."

Emmett gave me a megawatt smile, his dimples proudly making their presence known. "Why yes, we do, and I was actually going to ask about that today. It wasn't part of the original bid so; I was going to work my magic on Mr. Masen."

I laughed, "Well, do you have plans drawn up already? We can walk the grounds later in the week and see what we come up with."

"That sounds awesome. Thanks, man."

I nodded, and smiled. How is he so happy all of the time? I hope it rubs off on me a little.

I turned to see Isabelle frowning at me. I straightened slightly, and looked over at Emmett quickly before turning back toward her.

"Is everything all right?" I asked, a little concerned I may have somehow offended her.

Her eyes widened, "yes, no, I'm sorry. I was just trying to figure something out."

"About me?"

"Yes, no! I mean," she covered her face with her hands and Emmett laughed out loud.

"Bella here is special."

She smiled and then punched him in the stomach. "Oh, nice one, Bella."

She shook her head and smiled, before turning back to me. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. You're both pretty entertaining."

She blushed, and cleared her throat. I'm pretty sure the smile on my face was getting creepy, but I couldn't help but feel happy around her, around them. They had something, I'm not sure what, but I just felt better when they were around.

"So..." Isabelle said, drawing out the word. "I think we should start upstairs and work our way down. What do you think?"

Her eyes bounced from Emmett to me. I nodded and Emmett just started walking toward the stairs.

She had a pen and her iPad, and a blank document on her screen. She snapped a picture, then made some notes.

"What are you using to take notes?" I asked, pulling out my phone.

She smiled, "It's just a journal application. I can take pictures and add notes, and then import it onto my computer. I like having the pictures when I go back over everything."

"I made some notes, also." I showed her the list I had on my phone and she took a picture of it, and then laughed.

"We'll check them off as we go, yeah?"

I smiled, "Okay."

The rest of the morning was spent watching Isabelle and Emmett walk through the house. They were in the zone. I honestly don't think they even remembered I was with them. But it was fascinating listening to them talk and hearing them reference the history of the house, the original blueprints, how they could repair things and keep the integrity of the original materials.

It made me look at the house a little differently. As though it was a patient that just needed some TLC, and a little medicine to get back to normal.

I felt something knock into me and I instinctively reached my hands out. Isabelle was in my arms and her eyes were staring into mine. She looked confused, and scared.

"I'm..." I was going to say sorry, but do I need to apologize? "Are you okay?" I asked instead.

She nodded, "I'm sorry. I forgot you were here."

Chuckling, I nodded. "I kind of figured that. You and Emmett seemed to be in your own world."

"That happens when we get consumed by the project." She looked around the room with a smile. "But this time, it is the excitement of this house, this project. It's amazing. There so much history, and so many people who love it just the way it is. It's..." she shook her head, and looked up at me. "It's important. I don't know why, but it is. We have to get this right."

I frowned, trying to gauge her words. Just as I opened my mouth to ask her to elaborate, my grandfather's voice rang out.

"Hello, how is it going? Nothing too serious I hope."

He leaned in to kiss Isabelle's cheek, and then clapped my shoulder.

"We brought lunch. Mom made fried chicken and potato salad," Rosalie said, as she walked into the room.

Everyone moved toward the door, but I just stood there. I felt different somehow. Just that small bit of conversation with Isabelle had done something to me.

I would be an idiot to deny that I was attracted to her, intrigued even. But am I ready for that? I've been with, had been, with Kate for so long; through our senior year of high school, college, law school. I don't quite know what to do with myself now. She was my other half, any decision I made was discussed with her.

This last year, I've just been on auto pilot. But Kate was always in the background. Any decision I made, was with Kate in mind; except moving home. Moving back seems to have changed everything.

"Edward?" I turned toward the door. Isabelle stood there with a nervous look on her face. "Are you okay?"

I looked at my feet, my lips pressed together tightly. Am I okay? "I don't know," I answered, my head tilted in her direction.

She nodded, "I know the feeling." It was a whisper that I don't think was intended for me to hear.

I want to know her. I want to know why she would say that. How does she know this feeling? Did someone hurt her? Did she lose someone, too?

"Isabelle," I started, but she cut me off.

"You know," she smiled, "my name is Isabella, Bella. I'm not sure why everyone keeps calling me Isabelle."

I laughed. "Oh, well, my grandfather is telling everyone your name is Isabelle. I don't think you'll be able to escape it now."

"I am starting to see that," she touched my arm, and that electric spark snapped between us again. Her head tilted and her grip tightened on my arm. "What's happening?"

I shook my head, I don't know.

Isabelle

His sister walked into the room, her face tight with worry. I excused myself as they talked quietly near the window.

I fell against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

I touched him...I touched him, and nothing. No images, no flashes, not even a blurry glow. How is that possible? And how did I not notice this before?

I can't see him.

A slow smile stretched across my face.

I can't see him.

Rosalie projects blurry images, Mr. Masen pushes the images he wants me to see, and Edward shows me nothing.

My thoughts are completely jumbled, but the predominant thought in my head right now is how strange it is to not know anything about them; Who they were or who they will be, who they'll marry, if they'll be happy...I'll actually get to know them like a normal person, and be surprised when things happen.

My mind drifts to Alex; we started out happy and I was devastated when I realized I couldn't keep him. But I saw it coming, I knew he would leave eventually, but I was selfish and hoped he would choose me instead.

And in this moment I realize that it wasn't so much Alex that triggered the sadness within me, it was the idea that no one would ever choose me. That no one would want me enough to flip the images that I already saw. I was jaded because I could always see the outcome; I always knew they would choose someone else.

But what if I can't see his choice? Can I open myself up enough for him to see the real me? The girl that loves her family, and books and art, photography, and old homes. The girl that's had her heart broken over and over again, but kept enough of it hidden away hoping to someday find her true love.

Steps sound on the stairs and I look up to find bright, green eyes looking into mine.

Am I willing to take the chance?

a/n: Hi everyone! Happy Saturday! I hope your weekends have been lovely so far. :) Thank you so very much for the reviews last chapter. I loved them all. Please let me know your thoughts on this one.

***I will be on vacation this coming week, leaving on Thursday night so I won't be able to post on Saturday, but I will post as soon as possible when I get back into town. See you soon! Thanks again for the feedback. :)