Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just decided it was time to shake things up a bit in her characters' world. And I wanted a bitchy Bella, so here we go!
Oh, and all of the references used in this story in relation to the advertising and marketing company and accounts are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended.
Enjoy and review (be kind, but honest)!
Chapter Two: Baggage
The next morning Esme and I discussed our strategy for acquiring Mr. Edward Cullen, complete with our salary offer and benefits package, and then we placed a call to his cell phone. Esme informed me that he was going to be home in the morning, allowing us to discuss our proposition freely. We sat in my office with the door closed, and his phone rang three times before there was a click on the other end.
"Hello, Edward Cullen speaking." His voice was like velvet, and immediately I was pleased, thinking that it would no doubt come in handy with coworkers and clients. Esme announced herself and said hello, and then introduced me.
"Mr. Cullen, as you are well aware, Esme and I would love to have you here at Swan & Platte, and we're quite willing to make it worth your trouble," I said. "I have also viewed your impressive resume and Esme has informed me of your discussions leading up to this conversation. I'd like to know where you stand." There was a brief pause, and then Edward spoke again.
"Thank you Ms. Swan. As I told Esme, I have been with the firm for almost five years, but for some time now, I have been considering a change. I take immense pride in what I do there, but it was made clear to me that my vision differs from theirs, and so it seems we are at an impasse. I admire your company's founding principles, as well as your dedication to your large and small clients. And I think I have a lot to offer. I'd like to come work for you – for you both." His words lingered in the air, and we both looked at each other. I confirmed his position with our company, and then Esme silently clapped and jumped up and down in her seat; I smiled, satisfied. We discussed salary and other details, and I told Edward I'd have paperwork faxed to his home for him to complete before he began work. The three of us agreed that the sooner he could start,
the better, and settled on Friday, giving him that day with Esme for orientation. Before hanging up, he thanked us both once more and added, "You won't be sorry you hired me." Pretty bold statement, but I admire his confidence.
"Oh Bella, we need to celebrate this-tonight! I know it's the middle of the week, but this definitely calls for some drinks," Esme squealed. I really did love how energized she got over these things, and of course, I couldn't say no.
"Okay Esme, but can I invite the girls out with us? I know Alice would be traumatized if she missed out on an opportunity to dress up." She and I solidified our plans, and I called to make a reservation for four, in case we decided to eat dinner. Esme went back to her office, humming, and I sent a quick text to Alice and Rose to alert them.
The Alibi Room at nine. The rest of the day flashed by me, and before she left for the night, Esme popped her head into my office.
"B, don't work too late, okay? Make sure you give yourself enough time to relax for a while before you get ready. And wear something sexy. You never know." Before I could even mutter a word in protest, she was down the hall and out the door.
Pushing back my desk chair and stretching, I considered our new employee. I had to admit it excited me; I thought again about him and his voice drifted back to me. It was incredibly smooth, confident but not obviously cocky, clear but not too loud. Checking my watch, I grabbed my things and headed out, shutting off the lights and locking up as I went. Once home, I stripped out of my suit and hung it up neatly with another that I'd have Jessica send out for cleaning. Since I had more than an hour to spare, I read a few stories in the business section of the paper while leaning against my granite center island, and made myself a martini to unwind a bit. It always took a great effort for me to unwind after work, which is, undoubtedly, why Esme had made a point to mention relaxing. That woman knows me much too well.
Bored with the paper, I quickly checked my Blackberry for new work emails and then jumped in the shower. The hot water soothed my knotted muscles, and I made a mental note to sign up for another yoga class at my gym the next day. After turning off the water, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me and padded into my bedroom.
Reluctantly, I pushed all of the suits and work clothes in my closet aside, reaching far back into its recesses for my jeans and less formal attire. I couldn't even remember the last time I wore jeans. Thankfully my slight frame had been the same size since my freshman year in college, so I pulled them easily over my hips. I slipped a red silk Robert Rodriguez top over my head and then stepped into my black Louboutin pumps, assessing my appearance in the mirror. Red was a power color, I learned long ago, and it brought some much-needed warmth to my pale skin. Moving into my master bathroom once more, I let my long chestnut hair out of the messy bun and ran my fingers through it, massaging my scalp. With a coat of mascara, I was done, and walked back into the kitchen, grabbed my purse, keys and my leather blazer and was out the door, just as my cell phone buzzed.
"Hey Alice. I'm leaving now. I'll be there in fifteen," I told her, not even waiting for a hello from the other end.
"Bella – what are you wearing? You'd better be dressed up chickie!" That's Alice- always mindful of the important things in life. Like how long it's been since I got laid. Or shared my toothbrush holder with someone. I knew what she was driving at, and my temper flared. "Please don't give me shit, Ali. I'm wearing jeans, a nice top and my fuck-me pumps, okay? Now get your ass to the bar and I'll see you and Rose there soon."
She chirped an excited goodbye, impervious to my bossiness, and I jumped into my car and eased out of the garage and into traffic. The place was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday night, and as I gave my keys to the valet, I was relieved I had made a reservation. Esme, Alice and Rosalie were walking toward me as I got to the door, chatting amicably, with Alice jumping and clapping her hands occasionally, her short hair bouncing with her.
"Hey girls," I said, kissing each of them in greeting. Alice launched again into her squealing. "So, Esme tells us we're celebrating tonight – tell us all about it!" Rose smiled at her and rolled her eyes. "Let's get a damn table first and some drinks, ok Alice?"
We were seated immediately and the table afforded us a view of the entire restaurant and bar. Alice and Rose, of course, were happy with this. As soon as we all had our drinks – martinis all around – Esme told the girls about our new hire, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"That's great news, ladies," Rose said. "Bella, I know it's been a tough few months without Tanya there, despite the fact that she was a less-than-perfect employee." I scoffed at the understatement, and Esme looked at me with pleading eyes as I launched into a diatribe on just how imperfect Tanya was. Tanya worked at Swan & Platte for two years and had always been the consummate professional. She completed her work on-deadline and her ideas were fresh and inventive. But a few weeks before she departed, something changed. Once content with her supervisory position, Tanya began making comments about how she'd run the company if it were hers and complained that she wasn't appreciated as an advertising and marketing manager. Esme made many attempts to ease the tension, but I have no patience for insubordination, and I made it clear that if she did not find work elsewhere that I would fire her. Needless to say, she called the next morning and left Esme a message that she had moved on to another firm.
"I'd like to make a toast, then, to our new hire Mr. Cullen, and to new beginnings for Swan & Platte," Esme said, and we raised our glasses and clinked them. After draining her glass and hailing our waiter for a refill, Alice focused her energies on the next topic of utmost importance.
"So Esme, is this Edward guy hot?" I shook my head in disdain, while Esme turned the same shade as her pomegranate martini, and nodded. "He's quite handsome, actually, and very well-spoken. Ivy league-educated, advanced degrees, and clearly a learned man. And that voice…" She trailed off and sighed into her glass.
"Oh come on, Es, you guys. This is ridiculous," I chastised. "For one, he's a future employee, not a piece of meat. Secondly, it's completely inappropriate for us to be discussing him in this manner. Let his work speak for him-not his looks or his voice."
All three stared at me now with expressions of sympathy, sadness and pity, and I couldn't help but laugh. All three of them treated me like a lost little kitten. I was no cuddly, lost kitten.
"Honey, I think I speak for everyone when I say that it's high time you found yourself a good man," Alice said. Rose nodded in agreement. I didn't even bother looking at Esme; I knew how she felt about my personal life, or lack thereof. "We hate to see you so hardened and indifferent toward the male species. I know it's been a rough few years for you in that department, but that's no reason to swear them off altogether." Fuck me. I can't believe we're back here-again. I steeled myself, took a calming breath, and tried to remember that they meant well.
"Look ladies, I am not going to make excuses for why I'm single. It's not a fucking crime, and I actually enjoy the silence, believe it or not," I said, an edge in my voice. "In my opinion I've wasted too many years of my life with shit men who couldn't meet my needs. Sam wanted a family and didn't want to wait until I was ready for one; James was threatened by the fact that I was a successful businesswoman who wasn't going to cook his meals and wipe his ass for him; Paul was volatile and cheated on me; and I won't even mention the others who didn't last more than a few months. I refuse to settle, so I choose to be in a relationship with me. And I make me happy."
How could any of them understand me entirely? Rose had been dating Emmett for five years and they were truly made for each other; only Emmett could handle her moods and bouts of self-importance. And only Rose could bring such a bear of a man to his knees with a simple flip of her golden hair. The two were equally strong-willed and dirty-minded. Alice had just recently started dating this wonderful southern gentleman named Jasper, and I could see a change in her demeanor already. When they were together, Alice slowed down a bit from her usually Energizer bunny speed; he seemed to relax her. I couldn't have been happier for them. And Esme seemed to attract men like a magnet; I reasoned that it was her open personality and her unrelenting capacity for unconditional love that pulled people to her. I, on the other hand, could not boast such a talent.
"But Bella, you can't treat the men you date like business deals," Esme pleaded. "I love you, and I say this with the greatest respect, but you need to work…on your people skills." Not this shit again. No more fucking lectures on how I needed to 'soften' my image or work to be more feminine and vulnerable. I just can't do it. I glared at her.
As if she sensed that this conversation would go nowhere, Rosalie mercifully started talking about her and Emmett's latest camping trip, and I sat back in my chair as I listened to them chat.
So what if I didn't have a man? I didn't have time for love, romance or any of that corny shit. Contrary to what popular belief, most women can't actually have it all. Something always suffers, and in my case undoubtedly it was my relationship track record. But I had my work, and it kept me more than busy.
Absentmindedly I scanned the room looking at the other 30-somethings gathered around the bar and at the hightop tables. Some of the men were attractive, but even as I tried to catch their attention, it never prompted any of them to come over to our table. Even when I wandered over to the bar to get the next round, thinking if I were alone it would be less intimidating, not a single guy came over to me. God, do I have some kind of damned stamp on my forehead? Warning: Lots of baggage. Proceed with caution. I smiled at the joke I'd made at my own expense, and went back to the table with the drinks. Maybe I'd work on being more approachable – maybe for New Year's.
Then again, maybe not.