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.

Thank you to the following people: Flyaway Dove, my wonderful beta extraordinaire; angelicwish, who has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide this insecure writer with feedback; Lita for making me beautiful banners and being awesome in general; Vicky my new LA pal; and last but certainly not least, to Jen – she makes me smile all the time.

I know you all might be reeling from the last chapter and the speed with which things shifted; my apologies. In an effort to keep this realistic (in the context of this story), however, I felt that mindless sex and puppy love wasn't remaining true to the characters. They are more complex than that, and deserve (hopefully) better. And Bella is trying to keep things in her world as they are. So bear with her (and me).

Chapter Sixteen: A change in trajectory

Edward and I decided to walk downtown for dinner; I didn't say much on the way there, but he didn't seem to notice. At least, he didn't let on if he did. Shamefully, my mind was occupied with the details of how I was going to accomplish this latest act of sabotage – separating myself from Edward. This weekend and whatever followed in the next five days would have to be a fling; I would need to slowly extricate myself from the promises of what might have been between us. And I'd have to do it slowly and deliberately, and hopefully not hurt Edward too much in the process.

It was an impossible situation: I wanted Edward in my life, so badly, but I couldn't fire him for the sake of a romantic relationship. For one, it was unprofessionalism and selfishness in its basest form. From a business standpoint, it would be disastrous to have him working for the competition. But as long as he worked for me at Swan & Platte, there was no future for us outside the office and our working association. Coworkers could do it as they pleased, apparently, but I wasn't foolish enough to think that our particular brand of romance would be favored.

And then there was the sticky issue of my relationship trepidation. I knew at some point it would come back to haunt me; I had just tried not to focus on it, though. Being a bitch had previously acted as romance repellant, so it was easy to ignore until now. I couldn't avoid the feelings of dread and claustrophobia that bubbled inside me when Edward looked at me the way he often did. It made my skin crawl, and my heart clench. I knew from experience that these symptoms were those of panic attacks, but the awareness did nothing to help me squelch the dread. I was, quite simply, a mess. A relationship would be a disaster of epic proportions right now. And I couldn't do that to either one of us. Regardless of what my friends said.

I know he's special, Alice – which is why I need to do this. There is no other way. Hopefully she and Esme would accept my choice, and their respective relationships with Jasper and Carlisle wouldn't suffer as a result. Inwardly I cringed at the idea of my stupidity causing conflicts with my friends and their significant others. Since it was largely out of my immediate control, however, I pushed those thoughts from my mind.

Heart, we will forget him,

You and I, tonight!

You must forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.

Why couldn't I just have what I wanted? Was it too much to ask? The lingering answers – no and yes, respectively – floating in my head left me even more depressed. The feeling of Edward's warm fingers lacing through my own snapped me back to the present like a sling shot. Instinctively I rubbed my neck with the other hand, as if to soothe the whiplash, and offered a sheepish smile in his direction.

"You okay?" he asked, finally. "You've been really quiet." At least he waited a while. It occurred to me that we were standing in front of a cozy Italian bistro, complete with white lights on topiaries flanking the entrance, and a red and white striped awning overhead. It was too perfect. And too much like a date. Ugh. Shit.

"Oh. Sorry," I managed. "I'm fine. Just thinking about tomorrow's all. I'm starving; let's go inside." I pulled him toward the entrance, determined to get his mind – and mine – on food and off other, heavier things. We were seated quickly and I ordered a bottle of white wine, none too eager to repeat my last dinner performance. Not wanting to go full-board with the relationship sabotage this evening, I tried to engage him in some harmless conversation.

"Did you notice tonight when we were walking here, that it smelled like snow?" I asked. Edward took a sip of his wine, gently placed the glass on the linen tablecloth, and looked up at me with those bright emerald eyes and a warm smile.

"It smelled like snow to you?" he questioned, his long finger wandering through the condensation that had collected on his glass.

"Yeah, you know – it smells cold and the air is…different," I offered with a nod. "It's hard to explain, but it smells unusual. Just like the air changes when it's going to rain. Instead of ozone, hot and electric, though, snow smells…like cold, and old leaves and calm. I know it's weird…"

"No, it's not weird at all," Edward replied. "I know what you mean; the air does feel different tonight. I just never assigned an aroma to it. That's really interesting. And quite adorable."

I couldn't help the blush that followed his comment. Damn it. Even talk of the weather was perilous with Edward. It was like painting myself into a corner. Stupid. Stupid!

The waiter came over and took our dinner orders; I couldn't even recall what I'd requested. Handing my menu to the waiter, I made the mistake of looking across the table, and found Edward's eyes on me. The way he studied me – it made me feel naked. Suddenly my mind was blank, so I took a hearty pull from my glass and prayed for inspiration to strike. Luckily, it did, but indirectly.

"So…the U2 concert next weekend," Edward began, studying his fork and then glancing up at me through a thick fringe of lashes. "Are you going?"

"Are you kidding? Front row seats? Wild horses couldn't keep me away," I enthused, glad for the new subject. Truthfully, I had been looking forward to the concert for two months; U2 had always been one of my favorites. And then I remembered that Emmett had included everyone from our new little circle in his invitation.

"Do you know who's going," I asked him.

"Well, obviously Emmett and Rose, Jasper and Alice, Carlisle and Esme…and me and you?" The last part of his list was formed into a question, as if he hoped I'd reaffirm that I was. Or maybe his hesitation was because he had lumped the two of us together like he had the other couples. We were not a couple. I tried not to dwell on it, though, despite the passing flutter my heart gave.

"It sounds like fun. I think Alice's plan is to go out before the concert, maybe grab a bite," I said. "I've wanted to see them in concert for years, but getting my hands on tickets has been nearly impossible. Maybe when we return home this week, you and I should make an effort to court Seattle Center as a new client."

Edward smiled but said nothing. Maybe he didn't want to discuss work during dinner. Of course, my comment reminded me that our week was starting and that it was going to be hectic. Our dinner arrived, and I was thankful for something to occupy us besides conversation. Oh, apparently I ordered mushroom ravioli. We both ate quickly; sex does wonders for the appetite. Checking my watch, I realized it was getting quite late, so I hailed our waiter for the check. After giving him the company credit card, I poured the last of the wine in both of our glasses, and took a sip from mine.

"Edward, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go back to my own room after dinner," I declared, hoping that it didn't come across as presumptuous (even though it was). Frankly, there was nothing I wanted more than to snuggle into Edward again, feel his strong arms wrapped around me, and avoid the nightmares that always haunted my sleep. But I needed to be alone, under the guise of preparing for a busy day tomorrow, and I hoped that he'd understand and accept it at face value. "We have a busy day tomorrow, and we could both use a good night's sleep."

His face showed disappointment and hurt, but he recovered quickly and smiled. It didn't reach his eyes, however.

"Sure; that's fine," he answered. "It's late, anyways, and I know I could use a good six or seven hours. We should get going."

I slipped the credit card back into my wallet and we both pushed our chairs back and donned our coats. Edward held the door open for me, but didn't immediately reach for my hand again as we made our way back to the hotel. The irrational part of me was wounded by his reaction to my suggestion, but then again, I suppose, I had rejected him. As we walked the city blocks, my mind alternated between thoughts of success at distancing myself and thoughts of making amends with him. The closer we were to the hotel, the more jumbled and frantic they became. Inside I was being torn in two, and it was exhausting.

"What are you thinking about?" I blurted, before my brain could catch up with my mouth. I had to know what was going through his head. Edward slowed his pace, looked down at me and smiled – a real one this time – and wove his fingers through mine before answering.

"Oh, lots of things," he said wryly. "Tomorrow, this week, the last 24 hours…you." His emerald eyes were dark and hungry again, murky pools of liquid sex. "And how I'd much rather you to come back to my room."

Fuck. Me. Okay, so obviously I didn't hurt his feelings much after all. And if he keeps looking at me like that I'm going to melt right here. All that will be left of me will be a messy puddle of oversexed Bella. Edward affected me – deeply. His eyes, his lips, his hands, every inch of him oozed sexuality and want and need. He didn't even need to touch me and I was wet for fuck's sake. I was coming unglued, unraveled, unhinged, un-whatever else you'd like to call it. All I could do was stare at him idiotically, suddenly forgetting why it was such a good idea for me to be alone tonight.

We were standing in front of the hotel entrance, inches from each other, and I could feel the body heat rolling off Edward like shockwaves. I watched as he lifted his hand and ghosted his first two fingers along my jaw like he was worshipping it. His thumb gently grazed my cheek as his remaining fingers skimmed my neck, and I shivered uncontrollably. I felt the goose bumps spread from head to toe at his caress, as a wave of heat and wetness washed over the space between my legs. Dangerous. Get away from him. Now. But my body wasn't listening to my brain. That connection had long-since been severed.

Then, slowly, minute snowflakes started to drift toward the earth, swaying on the night breeze and landing on Edward's covered shoulders and bronze hair. Momentarily I was distracted from his face as I watched the tiny frozen particles settle on him and melt. The ones that began to cover his cheeks and eyelashes brought me back to his visage, and haphazardly I wondered if the snowflakes felt as drawn to him as I was.

"Bella, please, stay with me tonight," Edward whispered. I might have whimpered a bit in reply. Damn it. "I want to feel you beside me. We can just sleep – promise. I just need…"

His lips were touching mine, and I instinctively leaned in and closed my eyes, kissing him and, at present, not giving a shit about my "plan." Edward wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled my body against his, and I relaxed into his embrace and melded myself to his lean, hard form.

The only way to describe the feeling of kissing Edward would be to say it was like I'd been searching the earth for a missing appendage – an arm or leg, my lungs, my heart; I wasn't sure which – and then the realization of soul recognition as soon as I touched him. The missing part was found and I was whole for the first time. Call me sappy if you will – and I am not sappy – but kissing and being with Edward felt like that. Oh I am so screwed.

I broke our kiss and gently tugged him toward the warmth of the hotel lobby. Eager to be upstairs, I punched the button for the elevator and as we waited, his fingers discretely found mine. The elevator dinged and we stepped inside, thankful that it was empty. We kissed as if we were the last two people in the world; our tongues sparred in each other's mouths and our hands held on to each other tightly for fear of being torn apart.

"I'd like that very much," I admitted, finally mumbling a reply against his lips. "But I really think it would behoove us both to be in our own beds tonight. We need to be focused tomorrow; maybe later this week we can have a sleepover again."

As the elevator dinged again to announce our arrival at our floor, neither one of us moved to exit. I could feel Edward's hands on me; one set of fingers at the nape of my neck, woven through my hair, and the other kneading the flesh and clothing at my lower back. Desperately I wanted to keep them on me, but knew I couldn't be that selfish. My arms were thrown around his neck, my own fingers threaded through the coppery mess there. Begrudgingly, I withdrew my hands and took a step out into the hall.

It was a dirty trick to placate him with the promise of another night, but I thought it would work. And it afforded my heart a flicker of hope that I'd follow through on it, and it made the forced separation a bit more bearable. After planting one more searing kiss on Edward in front of our rooms, I ended our passionate embrace with briefer, less urgent pecks against his lips and then his cheeks and nose and chin. He sighed, apparently sensing the battle lost, and pulled me into an earnest hug. As soon as he held me away from him, my body registered the loss, and I fought not to pout.

This was necessary. No other way, Bella.

"A thousand times goodnight, Bella," he said softly, tilting my chin up so my lips brushed against his one more time. "Sleep well and I'll see you in the morning."

I watched him open his door and disappear behind it without looking behind him, and then I walked the two steps to my own room and slid the key card into the lock. As soon as the door clicked behind me I fell back against it. Only Edward would quote Shakespeare, and Romeo and Juliet at that. Dirty pool, Edward. Shaking my head, I walked into my suite and took off my coat.

Quickly I dressed for bed in my comfortable flannel PJs and brushed my teeth. I pulled my hair back in a loose pony tail and climbed into bed after securing the latch across the door. As I snuggled under the covers, trying to get warm, my mind raced with thoughts of Edward.

How in the hell was I going to extract myself now? It was definitely too fucking late. I was already in over my damn head. Drowning in a choppy emerald sea of Edward. I laughed aloud as I recalled his words of parting, which brought to mind another passage in the tragedy. It played in an echo as I drifted off to sleep.

These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

A/N: Yeah, so Bella's not doing so well out of the gate in her attempt to distance herself from Edward. The man does things to her. But at least she's in her own bed. For now. Tomorrow – back to work for these two.

Please leave reviews and let me know what you think! I devour them like mushroom ravioli!

The passages in this chapter are from Heart we will forget him by Emily Dickinson and William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet (obviously). No copyright infringement intended here.