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)!
And a special thanks to my whiz of a beta, flyingchipmunk (Awesome Amanda) who is training me well in the ways of shorter paragraphs. She's also great for cutting up my sentences into more manageable bites. Yum!
Thanks also to born2speakmirth for also helping me with my paragraphs and to Selita – you know why chickie!
Chapter Three: First day
The remainder of the week was hectic, and I kept my head down, nose to the proverbial grindstone. After meetings with prospective clients, status reports from my other divisions, discussions with Esme on human resources and paperwork, the days blurred together and it was soon Friday.
I took my usual route to the office, stopping to get my coffee on the way (this time the person behind the counter got it right the first time) and I pulled into my space in the garage, right next to Esme's car. She's earlier than me today, I mused, and then I realized it was Mr. Cullen's first day.
The offices were empty at this time of the morning, the two of us being the exception, and as I dropped my coat and briefcase on Jessica's desk, Esme walked out of her corner office and greeted me with an eager grin.
"Morning Bella. I'm so anxious," she exclaimed. "Edward faxed me all of his finished paperwork late yesterday and I've left it with Pam in human resources, so he's all set. He will be here at eight-thirty, and I'll show him around the office and get him settled, and then I've arranged for him to sit down with the execs he'll be managing, and then you and I have a meeting with him this afternoon at one, okay?" She did all that, I was sure, in one breath, and when she finished she seemed exhausted.
"Thanks Esme. I'm sure you'll make the transition as smooth as possible for everyone," I said, opening my office door. "Please let me know when he arrives; until that time, I have a pile of paperwork to attend to."
A short while later as I was checking my email, Jessica burst through the double glass doors like a pink tornado and half-ran past my office to her desk. Moments later there was a soft knock on my door.
"Come in," I said, and she entered, looking apologetic.
"Ms. Swan, I'm so sorry I'm late." She walked to my desk and handed me a handful of paper messages, and a fresh cup of coffee.
Without looking up, I handed her a couple of files for her to enter into our client database, and put my hand up before she continued her act of contrition.
"Jessica, I understand both Ms. Platte and I are here earlier than usual, but I do still expect you to be at work on-time, and that means before eight o'clock. It is now eight-ten. Please don't let me have to mention this again." Now I glanced up at her, and her face matched the dark pink of her blouse.
She stammered a few more apologies and quietly left my office. Sweet Jesus she never shuts up. Attempting to refocus on my paperwork, I was again interrupted by the sound of her shrill voice on my intercom.
"Ms. Swan, Ms. Platte wanted me to let you know that Mr. Cullen has arrived."
Very nice. Almost twenty minutes early. I hope this is an indication of his work ethic, and not just a first-day fluke. I did a brief check in the mirror to make sure my suit and my pulled back hair were smooth and neat, and met Esme in the hall. We walked out to the small reception area together to greet him, and he stood as we approached, extending his hand. Esme reached out to grasp it eagerly, as I hung back and took in his appearance, suddenly struggling to keep my professional air.
He was gorgeous. Not model-gorgeous, as in too pretty for the corporate world. His features were refined, elegant and disturbingly perfect. Dressed impeccably in a very expensive-looking charcoal suit and black shoes, he stood straight, very tall and confident as he shook Esme's hand and smiled. His hair was arranged in flawless disarray, which I felt certain was anything but unintentional, and it had coppery highlights under the office lighting. The line of his nose was straight and regal, with just the slightest bump on the bridge, suggesting he might have broken it at some point. His jaw was strong, defined and sharp enough to inflict major damage. Damn. Holy shit. Fuck. Me.
All of this I noticed in the span of the few seconds it took for Mr. Cullen to greet Esme, before turning his gaze on me. And when he did, I nearly lost my composure completely. His piercing green eyes seemed to go right through me, and suddenly I had disappeared, only to be replaced by a silly, bumbling girl with shaky knees. And then he opened his mouth, and I was done.
"Ms. Swan, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Edward Cullen." Two short sentences and I just stood there, gaping at him like an imbecile. Esme, taking pity on what must have been quite a spectacle, cleared her throat, and I regained enough use of my brain to welcome him and offer my hand.
"Hello, Mr. Cullen. Welcome to Swan & Platte. Again, we are so glad to have you with us." Okay, that sounded professional, right? I was amazed at the effect he had on me, and I chided myself for acting this way. Get it the fuck together Bella. He is your new advertising and marketing manager, not Adonis in human form. Ridiculous. I realized I was still shaking his hand, and quickly withdrew it. He offered a crooked smile and looked again to Esme, as she explained the day's orientation. Needing to distance myself from him, I walked ahead of them through the office doors and excused myself.
Esme reminded me we'd meet later that day and I curtly wished Mr. Cullen good luck and said I'd see him in the afternoon. I didn't wait for a reply and I didn't look back at them as I shut my door. Leaning against it, I tried to put the pieces of my brain back together, again chastising myself for the very uncharacteristic behavior. No one could unhinge me like that; no one ever had. I could not allow Mr. Cullen to do it. I would not allow him to do it.
I threw myself into some work to occupy the time and distract myself, and it worked until I left the office for a quick lunch before my afternoon meeting – with him.
As I sped back into the garage and screeched to a stop in my parking space, I prepared myself with a little pep talk. You are better than this, Isabella Swan. You have not worked your ass off to be undone by a boy. Not get your shit together and silence your hormones. Resolved, I decided to take the stairs back to the tenth floor, and by the time I got to the door, my cheeks were flushed and I was slightly winded, but feeling better. With fifteen minutes before the meeting I put my suit jacket back on, made sure my stockings were still secure under their clasps and smoothed out my bun. I took a deep breath, gathered my things, and made for the conference room. Thankfully I was the first one there and used the time to arrange my papers and make some notes.
A few minutes later, Esme walked in, with Mr. Cullen in-tow. They both smiled and sat down, with Esme to my left and him taking the seat across the table, on my right. Before he could open his mouth, I began.
"Mr. Cullen, I am sure you are quite familiar with how things work here, but I wanted to review your responsibilities as the ad and marketing manager," I said. "They will be slightly more demanding here than what you are used to, and I want to make sure we are all on the same page as to what will be expected." He nodded, so I continued. "You will be in charge of the ad and promotion staff, as well as our marketing staff, as you know. You will be expected to check in regularly with your subordinates and ensure that the needs of their clients are being met, and then report this information to me. You will also work with the marketing department on all in-house products, cultivate and present new potential markets, and keep abreast of trends and our competitors. In short, Esme is my right hand, and you now are my left. You and I will work together quite a bit, particularly in the next month or so as I transfer to you all of the duties I took on when your position was vacated. Is this clear?"
He put on a nearly perfect façade of assurance and determination, but I could see that beneath that, he looked a bit overwhelmed. But his reply, not surprisingly, belied his expression.
"Quite, Ms. Swan. I understand all of my responsibilities, and am ready to take on any duty you give me. I will consider this a challenge, to which I will surely rise, and I thank you both for having the confidence in me to provide me with the opportunity to prove myself. I am very certain that in no time, Ms. Swan, you will find your job much easier." And with what I swore was a smug-ass smile, he leaned back slightly in the chair, his emerald green eyes taunting me. Challenging me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, but didn't say anything more, and his expression remained while Esme discussed his team members. It was the longest meeting I had ever had, and I was partly relieved when we had finished discussing the ad and marketing teams, our current accounts and upcoming projects, and we all stood up to leave. Esme looked at me, and then at Mr. Cullen as I gave him another judging stare and he returned it.
"Thank you very much Mr. Cullen; that will be all," she said, in an effort to ease the palpable tension.
He nodded, packed up his things and said, "Thank you both. I'll get right to work." And then he was gone.
Esme looked over at me in desperation now, and I glared at her. "What," I asked sarcastically, as I studied my files.
She sighed and then said, "Please Bella. We need him." I laughed loudly and then set my jaw, and asked her to join me in my office. Once we got there I shut the door behind her, and she sank into a chair on the other side of my desk, looking exasperated.
"Esme, I don't like him," I told her. "He's cocky and confrontational. He was challenging me, insinuating that I couldn't handle doing the work of two people. The job he now occupies is much too important to leave to someone not willing to take it seriously. I am not going to put up with his attitude."
"Bella, don't do this," she pleaded. I crossed my arms like a stubborn child, but she kept going. "He wasn't doing any of those things; he was thanking us and showing us he's eager to take on the responsibility. You're reading into his words, which I thought were very respectful and professional. And I like him. It's his first day; please give this some time."
Begrudgingly I agreed, and Esme patted my hand before leaving me to my thoughts. I worked straight through the rest of the afternoon, preparing account files for Mr. Cullen and making calls to clients. It would be a relief to hand over some of this work, I realized. Until today I had been working a lot of fourteen-hour days and weekends too, and lightening my burden would actually allow me to try to have some semblance of a life.
I shuddered suddenly, and looked out my window. When did it get dark? I looked out the large opaque window next to my door and realized there was no movement on the other side. Everyone had left for the night, and I was alone. Esme hadn't even popped in to say good night; she must still be mad at me for my comments about Mr. Cullen.
I checked my email once more, typed a few responses and shut off my desk lamp and stretched. It was eight-fifteen, and my stomach suddenly remembered it was hungry, so I packed up my briefcase and pulled my coat from the rack outside my office. I was heading for the door when I light down the hall caught my eye. Edward Cullen is still here. Damn. What is he trying to prove? Ignoring my internal voice, I slowly walked down to his office; the door was open and the light poured out into the dimly lit hall. I knocked quietly on the window and moved into the doorway, trying to arrange my features into a believable and friendly smile. He looked up as I entered, and smiled crookedly.
"Mr. Cullen, you're here late this evening," I stated, and he smiled again. "I hope you don't think that by staying here later than me, you'll impress anyone." His smile faltered, and then he squared his shoulders back and glared at me.
"No, Ms. Swan, that was not my intention. I am simply trying to get a start on all of the files you gave me today and to be honest, they seem a bit disorganized. I have my work cut out for me, and I wanted to get a jump before the weekend." How dare he insult my work on those files! I was instantly incensed, and started to open my mouth, but he cut me off, rising from behind his desk.
"Please excuse me Ms. Swan, but it's late, I'm tired and I have a dinner date this evening." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and my eyes lingered on his long fingers until he opened his eyes. Maybe I'm giving him a headache. Good. He's being a pain in my ass. He stepped around his desk and me, and reached for his coat. I should have offered to walk out with him, but I was pissed off and hungry. And he had a dinner date, so I said a curt good night to him and walked out.
Pressing the elevator button with no success, I gave up and took the stairs, running down them as fast as my legs would carry me so I could beat him to the garage. By the time I pushed the door open at the ground level, I was a bit sweaty and out of breath, but with one glance to either side, I realized I was alone, and hurried to my car. Son of a bitch. So sorry to keep you from your date. I peeled out of my spot and the garage, and sped off.
If he fucking thinks he can get the better of me, he's got another thing coming. No one makes a fool out of me and lives to tell the tale. And he'd rather go out to dinner with some flake, no doubt, than get work done. What a slacker. I realized I was going a bit too fast on the downtown streets, and eased off the gas. What was wrong with me? Why was I so keyed up? It was late, after all, and he was working. And why did I care if he had a date? People eat dinner all the time; in fact, I needed to acquire some myself. I turned the corner and pulled into my garage, flipped open my cell and called Alice to make dinner plans with her and the other girls. As I hung up with her, it occurred to me: I was jealous. Fuck.