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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.
A special thanks to my wicked awesome beta, Flyaway Dove. Bella and Edward thank you too, hon!
Thanks also to angelicwish for helping me learn the ropes and to Selita, as well as all of you who have commented on my story. You all keep me writing!
Okay, so some of you might be wondering when the hell we're going to get down to the lemons, and I assure you, it will happen! When it does, boy will it be sweet! But there needs to be some pain, suffering and tension first! HaHa!
Chapter Nine: In (p)reparation
Time was not on our side. We had two weeks before the conference and the clock was ticking. And I was completely stressed. The presentation materials and products we planned to present were not completed. I was waiting on the printers, the graphic designers, my staff and Edward, and I could swear my hair was graying with the anxiety. Between actual work and my efforts to make Edward despise me, I could barely keep up with myself. Which was funny, sad and ironic. Even Esme was avoiding me now, except for our weekly lunch dates. She knew to leave me alone when I was cramming like this.
There was a tentative knock on my door and I answered with an annoyed, "Yes?" Edward rushed through the door, with a large box partially obscuring his beautiful face. Focus Bella.
"Ms. Swan, the brochures have come back from the printers," he said, slightly out of breath. "I thought you'd want to look at the finished product before I pack them for the conference." Then he stood there with the box still in his hands, and I got impatient.
"Well, put them down and open them then," I huffed. He seemed to be in a fog, but quickly snapped out of it and put the box down on one of the chairs in front of my desk. I handed him my silver letter opener and he gently sliced through the tape. At first Edward's face was excited. Then I watched it fall as he examined the contents. A sense of dread washed over me, and instantly I felt ill.
"Edward, what is it?"
Nervously he ran his fingers through his hair once before answering me.
"Shit. Um, sorry. The brochures are all backwards. The printer must've mixed up the pages somehow when we sent them the file." He held one of them out to me and I snatched it out of his hand with such force that it tore where his thumb had been.
"You've got to be kidding me! This is completely unacceptable! We don't have time for mistakes," I growled. "These all need to go back immediately. Now, Edward. And don't come back until you've resolved this."
Granted, it was a bit harsh, and it wasn't Edward's fault that the brochures had been misprinted, but I needed to impress upon him the direness of the situation. It was also a perfect opportunity to flex my inner bitch muscles at his expense.
For a moment he just stood there gaping at me, with a look that bordered on disbelief with, I imagined, some disappointment and disgust mixed in, and then he sprang to action. Edward practically threw the box onto his shoulder and spun on his heel, calling behind him as he went:
"I'm on it, Ms. Swan. Don't worry – I'll get this fixed right away."
After he was gone I let my head fall into my hands; I massaged my temples hoping it would soothe the pounding headache that was threatening. Why does shit always have to go wrong? I don't need this right now. Instead of letting a migraine and my stress defeat me, I reviewed – for the tenth time – the conference itinerary, my lecture notes and the Powerpoint presentation documents Edward had prepared for my approval the week prior. Over and over I told myself that he and I were prepared for this; that what we planned to present to the other agencies attending would prove, once again, the merit of Swan & Platte.
Once I had calmed myself with my obsessive compulsive preparations, I considered Edward's demeanor during our short exchange. Instead of reacting to my demands as he usually did – the if-looks-could-kill glower and nose pinching – he had taken instantaneous steps to remedy the crisis. The sudden shift made me suspicious – and a little nervous. What is he up to? I really need to stop worrying about whatever game he's playing; there's too much to do. Truly I didn't have time to concern myself with Edward. I had real work to occupy my time. At that moment Jessica buzzed my intercom to let me know my late morning conference call was ready.
"Ms. Swan, excuse me. The Seattle Art Museum staff and board members are on line one and ready for you," she said.
Shit.
I had directed Edward to schedule this conference call with the SAM for me last week; we all needed to collaborate on marketing for their upcoming Warhol exhibition, as well as brochures and other materials for the Seattle Asian Art Museum's Japanese woodblock print exhibit. Of course, Edward was supposed to be on the call with me, but I had sent him out. There was no time for stalling, and I quelled the ire churning in my stomach. Not his fault, Bella. You sent him to the printer.
"Hello Kate, Peter, Siobhan and Alistair. Thank you for making yourselves available for this call," I said into the speaker, making sure to keep my voice calm and even.
It wasn't crucial that Edward be present for our call, but since I had transitioned him to the majority of my accounts, it was preferable that he be the one to do most of the brainstorming. Silently I hoped that he'd somehow make it back to the office before I had to disclose this shortcoming to our clients. The simple fact was that I was no longer as up-to-date with them as he was. And he had the file, too, of course.
"As you know, we'd like to get some initial ideas and expectations from you all on what you'd like to see from Swan & Platte to publicize your two upcoming exhibitions," I continued, trying to buy Edward (and myself) some time while I searched my computer for a copy of their client profile. "These are undoubtedly two of your most important shows next year, and we want to ensure you are satisfied with the end-product."
A recessed part of my brain deliberated my options while I blathered on about our company and what we could offer the SAM. It occurred to me, piteously, that if Edward treated me with the same disregard and contempt that I had him, he'd take his sweet time getting back to the office. In effect, he'd purposely leave me high and dry with the client, and it would be my own fault. Granted, I'd still make him suffer, but it certainly would put a well-deserved point in his column.
You did this, Bella. You've turned this into a game of one-upmanship and now it's biting you in the ass. Time to taste your humble pie, woman.
There was mostly silence on the other end of the phone. I cringed as I prepared to commit one of the worst sins in business – admitting I wasn't totally educated on my client's needs – when a blur of gray and bronze rushed past my window.
Edward had saved me.
And I couldn't find fault in it, get angry with it or poke holes in it. All I could do was smile gratefully at him as he quietly and quickly folded himself into one of the chairs at my desk and spoke to everyone as if he had been sitting with me all along. Edward quickly jumped into the discussion, which allowed me to sit back and watch him work.
Gotta hand it to him; he's good. And he saved my ass. Truth be told, I probably wouldn't have done the same if I had been in his position. Nope; I definitely would not have done the same thing. Is this a peace offering? Do I want a peace offering? I discarded those thoughts for the time being and tried to concentrate on the call.
"Great – I've got it all here in front of me, and my team will get to work on this right away," Edward enthused. "I want you all to know you're in great hands with Swan & Platte at the helm. We'll be in touch next week and I'll be sending you mock-ups the following week. Ms. Swan and I already have some great marketing ideas, based on what you've given us; you'll be pleased with the results, I'm sure."
We both listened to the excited commentary on the other end, and then I concluded the conference call and thanked them all for their time. Once I disconnected the line, Edward sat back in his chair with a grin stretched from ear to ear. For a moment, neither one of us said a word. Then, swallowing hard, I decided it was time to see about that humble pie.
"Edward, thank you for getting here in time for the conference call," I began. His mouth dropped open slightly at the mention of "thank you," but I continued, fearful I'd lose my nerve. "I truly appreciate your dedication to your work, and…I, um…just don't want you to think it goes unnoticed." That was okay, right? I don't want to inflate his ego.
Nervously I looked down and began fidgeting with the edge of my legal pad as the silence in the room threatened to suffocate me. Why does he have this effect on me?
I never fidget.
"You're welcome," he finally replied. And then he was silent again. What? Should I say something else? Why is he still here?
"If you'll excuse me, I need to make a few phone calls," I said, in an effort to dislodge him from my office. "And I'm sure you'll want to get started on those ideas of ours, correct?"
Edward took a deep breath and then exhaled forcefully, offered me a crooked smile and stood up, adding, "Yes, of course. Would you like me to meet with you early next week to show you what I have so far?"
"That would be fine, Edward," I replied. "Please don't forget to factor in any last-minute preparations for the conference. I've handled the majority of it, but let's try to plan ahead, in case there are additional mishaps. And please, when you get the corrected brochures, make sure they are, in fact, corrected."
"Ms. Swan, I can assure you that it will not happen again, but yes, I will do all of that," he replied. I watched the vein in his forehead protrude, and wondered if he was developing a headache. He opened his mouth again, but then shut it. With a nod, he left my office.
*************
The week passed quickly, and the following Monday Edward and I met so he could present me his draft ideas for the SAM account. After making a few suggestions and changes, I sent him back to the marketing team for some brainstorming, since I knew he told the museum he'd be in touch with them on Thursday. He must have been a bit anxious - with the SAM work and the impending conference – but, as usual, he never let it show.
I provided Edward with as much feedback on his SAM ideas as I could muster, but frankly I doubted I was very useful. He didn't need it, though, as evidenced by the call I received from Kate the day after his meeting with the board and staff, I received a phone call from Kate. They had loved the ideas and mock-ups, and Kate practically gushed over Edward's competence and his skill at meeting and surpassing their expectations.
"You've snagged a good one there," she said to me candidly. Swan & Platte had worked with Kate and the SAM before, so apparently she felt comfortable enough with me to be frank. "Make sure you keep him happy, okay? He's quite a gem."
I thanked her for the compliment. After saying that we knew how lucky we were to have him, I asked her to keep in touch and to call me if she needed anything. We do know how lucky we are…don't we?
***********
Edward and I had a late Friday night flight to Chicago, which would leave us two days to adjust to the time change and organize ourselves for our first session on Monday morning. Thankfully Esme had booked us in first class, so our flight was comfortable and I dozed a few times, despite my nerves. The first time I awoke, someone had covered me with a blanket. Edward was reading a book – Maus – one of my all-time favorites. I stretched like a cat and he asked me if I slept well.
"Mmm-hmm," I answered sleepily, glancing at the book cover. "That's one of my favorite books. Spiegelman's use of animals to represent the different races, especially to tell the story of something that's beyond description, is so original, I think."
"Anthropomorphism," Edward replied, nodding.
"Huh?"
"Anthropomorphism – the attribution of human traits to non-human creatures," he said. "It's an interesting way to, as the author says, express the inexpressible. I've always been captivated by the story, and the telling of it in comic strip form."
Am I still dreaming, or are Edward and I actually having a conversation? And it's not even work-related! Quietly, I reveled in the moment, and resisted the urge to tell him that I knew what the word meant. Then Edward surprised me by continuing the banter.
"So, if you could be any type of animal, what kind would you be," he asked me, his bright emerald eyes drifting away from the book and to my face. God, he's beautiful. I really should go back to sleep. I considered his rather odd question (likely routed in elementary psychology) for a few moments, and two very different answers came to mind.
"Do I have to just pick one?"
"Well, I suppose this time I'll allow more than one," he said with a smile. "Two then, okay?"
"I'd want to be a horse," I answered. "They're majestic, graceful, beautiful and deceptively strong. They can travel great distances and carry heavy loads, and I think of them as very noble creatures. And they're very stubborn, too, of course."
I wondered if he'd comment on the similarities there.
Edward pondered my answer and then said, "Strength and weakness embodied. They are also quite susceptible to injury. It's an interesting balance of power and frailty." Since I hadn't considered that, I simply nodded. Then he asked me what my other choice would be.
"Probably a bee," I said.
"You went from a horse to an insect that stings?" he asked, laughing. "I can't wait to hear this explanation. Please."
"Not all bees sting," I reminded him with a sideways glance. "Bees are hard-working and loyal, and strictly from a biological perspective, they are essential to every living thing on this earth. The most fascinating thing about them, I think, is that they all work together toward a common goal. No one bee decides it's time to strike out and go it alone – screw the hive and all that. They are all connected to each other and to the world."
When I had finished my long-winded discourse on the matter of animals, I felt certain that Edward was internally sizing me up, picking apart my answers to get to the root of me. Despite having prepared for that, his scrutiny made me uncomfortable, so I turned the question on him.
"So…what about you," I asked. "If we're being fair, you're also allowed two."
"Then I'd be either a stag or a mountain lion," Edward answered quickly and assuredly.
"Hmm…let me see," I mused. Let's see what he makes of this. "Brave, and definitely majestic as well. The mountain lion is calculating and stealthy, strong and efficient. A stag is proud, imposing and a leader, but still grounded. Is that about right?"
Edward laughed; he knew he'd obviously been caught trying to dissect me. He shook his head, and I watched him, completely transfixed. And totally fucked. You need to keep your shit together for a whole week; don't start on the damn plane ride.
"Very good," he said. "I can see you paid attention in your Psych 101 class. So…do you think those characteristics are an accurate representation?" I knew what he was alluding to – whether I thought he was all those things – but I couldn't answer him. At least not the way he wanted.
"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to encounter either alone in the woods," I said, one eyebrow raised for effect. "I'd definitely run the other way, though with the mountain lion, it would be pointless." He nodded, a smile spreading slowly across his face.
"Yes, it would be pointless."
The air seemed to crackle in the cabin, and it put me ill-at-ease, so I changed the subject before I could obsess too much about what Edward was thinking.
"Now that we're being candid, tell me – what do you do for fun," I asked, genuinely curious. I couldn't deny that part of me – and I wasn't sure yet how dominant that part was – was looking for more insight into the man sitting next to me. It seemed that I couldn't help myself.
Edward ran a hand through his hair, seeming a bit self-conscious, and said, "I, um, like to run. And I enjoy playing the piano and composing music." I nearly slid off my seat. I knew it! Those fingers were meant for something great! Hopefully…stop it! While I collected myself, Edward blushed slightly and looked down at his book. Something compelled me, however, not to let him off the hook that easily.
"How long have you been playing and composing," I asked. "I have to say, Edward, that's impressive. It must be difficult to create something like that from nothing. I envy those who dabble in the fine arts. I might be a whiz at business, but I can't carry a tune or even draw a convincing stick figure."
"Um, I've been playing since I was eight, but only recently started composing," he replied, the blush deepening. "And it's never really creation from nothing; there are things around me and things that happen to me – beautiful and repulsive – that inspire me and so I like to think of it as just transforming life into music." As if he suddenly realized who he was talking to, he became silent, and with a quick smile in my direction he picked up his book once more.
Sensing his discomfort, I rested my head back and pulled the blanket up under my chin. Closing my eyes, I considered his words, and the impact they had on me.
Edward Cullen was an artist, a stag and a mountain lion. He was an old, tortured soul; I was sure of it. And I craved more - much more. Before I drifted off to sleep again, I remembered Edward's blush, and smiled to myself.
"I like that idea – transforming life into music," I murmured, without opening my eyes. "That sounds really nice. I wonder what my song would sound like." The cabin was silent except for the quiet drone of the air conditioning, and everything quickly faded away.
If I had managed to stay awake a few seconds more, I would have felt the fingertips that hesitantly brushed my cheek. But I didn't.
Oooh! Touching!! We have touching, people! Okay, I want to get a poll from my readers as to who's going to cave first. We all know they have the hots for each other, but Bella has sworn him off. But Eddie – he's a sneaky guy, and he made the first physical contact! Does it count, though? She's asleep!
It's a whole weekend before they have to work, so anything can happen! Are you as excited as I am? I can't wait to see what these crazy kids will do!