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: Angelicwish, who has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide this insecure writer with loads of feedback, advice, beta services and great conversations; Lita for coming back to me (*waves hi*) and to Jen – I'm so glad we reconnected! Love you!
Sorry for the lengthy delay, my loves! My comp broke so I was confined to writing at work…which did not work out so well, obviously. I hope the longer chapter makes up for it!
In case any of you are wondering, here are some fics that are completely devastating me right now (please go check them out on FanFiction or Twilighted) – Expectations and Other Moving Pieces by chrometurtle; Tre by my sweetie Megsly (update soon!); The Blessing and the Curse by The_Black_Arrow and The Misapprehension of Bella Swan (Regarding the Inferior Intellect of Hockey Whores) by hunterhunting. My list of favorites is getting ridiculous. Just read these. You're welcome.
A special thank you to Forever_Liz, Megsly and barburella, and my new ficwife SusanAshlea for being awesome in general. You guys help me work through my plot and skittle me silly. Love you!
Hey folks! Again, sorry we're off our usual schedule, but I vow it's temporary. The new laptop is on its way, and soon I'll be able to write at all hours of the day – not just at work! Bear with me – promise it'll be worth it!
We're in Bella's head for one more chapter, and then we're going to check in on Sweetward to see how he's handling this. Sound good?
Follow me on Twitter, people! LauraLoo77
Chapter Twenty-seven: The plan
Edward would've liked the meadow. Again, thoughts of him invaded my idle mind, once it was no longer distracted. My pain in my chest reminded me that although I could confuse my heart for a short time with talk, running, hikes and 80s music, there was no escaping Edward and the truth of my actions.
Please don't let it be too late.
Charlie and I spent the rest of Sunday night in our usual, comfortable silence. My father obviously felt like he'd said his peace. I made him dinner, for which he was thankful, and we sat together watching football as they day drew to a close.
My fingers itched to call Edward, but I had no idea what I'd even say -- if he answered the phone. If I were him, I wouldn't talk to me. Insecurities and a shitload of guilt bubbled up to the surface and lodged themselves in my throat. What was clear was that I needed some sort of plan. This apology was going to take organization, determination and, quite possibly, a lot of begging and groveling.
It was true that I had screwed this relationship up time and again, but I sincerely hoped that there was a chance Edward would change his mind about us. Of course, my analytical brain recognized that not being with Edward was easier for business, but my heart was so beyond caring about that. But what could we do about the working situation? This was the key; I was sure of it. I wracked my brain for a while, massaging my temples as I did so. Thankfully, if Charlie noticed -- which I'm sure of with some certainty -- he didn't say a word. I needed room to think, so I excused myself for the night and kissed Charlie on the cheek.
"Night, Dad," I said. "I'm going to turn in early. All of the exercise today really did me in. It was nice. Thanks."
"Welcome," he answered simply. "It was. Night, Bells."
Once alone in my room, I paced quickly as my brain churned. Aside from apologizing for my unfair and flippant behavior in reaction to Tanya's text, I needed to resolve the underlying source of my stress: Edward and I could not continue working together as boss and employee if we wanted this relationship to continue. And I couldn't lose him to Aro. It was simply not an option.
"Think, Bella – think!" I chastised myself aloud for having a sluggish brain. Mentally, I rehashed the months that had passed since Edward began working for S&P and tried to glean inspiration from it all.
"Idiot!" I yelled again, hoping the sound of the TV downstairs would drown out my self-loathing. There had to be a way…
Suddenly, the white-hot light of my epiphany struck me like lightning, and I gasped. Yes! This might actually work! My plan recharged me and pumped the blood through my veins at a gallop as my heart worked to keep pace. It was perfect – it would allow Edward to stay at S&P without consequence to his career or mine, and would allow him the chance to grow in our company, if he so desired. In time, if news trickled out concerning our relationship, it wouldn't matter, though the chances of that happening would be slim. Esme and I would be fine, and Edward's integrity would remain intact. This has to work.
Excited with the prospect of relaying the news to Esme the following day, I quickly got ready for bed and jumped under the covers with a hopeful smile plastered across my face. As I lay there, I considered the possibility of Edward's rejection.
If he says he's done with me, it will still work. And certainly it would be far less painful this way, if we can't be together. And no one would need to know, with the exception of those who already do, of course.
The thought of Edward rejecting my apologies -- and love -- sent a chill through me, and I shivered under the heavy comforter and blankets. I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept, though the fear of reality weighed heavily on my heart. It wouldn't be the first heartbreak, of course, but this would be one that I could blame almost entirely on myself. There's a first time for everything, I suppose. And I knew it would be the most painful.
My thoughts drifted back to Sam and his kids, and I felt my heart clench again. The feeling was the same as that day. At first, I had assumed it was at the loss of my first love. But now, staring up at the ceiling in my old bedroom, with thoughts of Edward swirling in the mixture, I realized the pang in my chest had nothing to do with Sam at all.
It was Edward.
I wanted all of it…with Edward. Husband and wife. Kids. Stress. Jobs. Mortgage. The controlled chaos. Life. I'd thought the desire for those things just didn't exist within me. I thought that I should've wanted them with Sam, and that when I resisted it was because I wasn't meant to be all of that for him -- for anyone. That I wasn't the "marrying kind." Maybe I was just waiting.
A single tear dripped from each of my eyes and trickled down into my hairline as I lay there. The more I pondered the idea, the more I knew it was true.
I wanted Edward. Only him.
Always.
"Shit," I sobbed quietly, as the tears flowed freely down the path the others had blazed. I blinked furiously to stem the flow, but it was as if the events of the weekend refused to be squashed. The chance meeting with Sam meant so much more now that I was self-aware. Seeing, in my mind's eye, his children wrapped around his legs sent a fresh wave of grief over me. What if I had thrown it all away? Over a text?
"Please help me," I prayed in a whisper, aware that I didn't do this nearly enough to warrant attention now. "Please."
I fell asleep still sniffling, the physical and emotional exertion proving too much for my body and mind. Maybe, in answer to my request, I was mercifully granted a dreamless sleep.
The clock on my nightstand read 6:07 a.m. It was early -- almost too early to consider calling Esme. But I knew her to be an early riser, so I took a chance and dialed her cell number. If she was still sleeping, it would be off. It rang three times before she answered.
"Bella? Hi! Are you okay," she asked, the pitch of her voice conveying her concern.
"Hi Es. I'm fine, thanks," I said. "Sorry to be calling you so early, but I think I have a great idea, and I wanted to run it by you."
"Okay, sure," Esme said. "I'm sitting down for breakfast, so lay it on me."
I explained my plan carefully, thinking through it aloud with Esme listening and providing the appropriate "uh-huhs" and "sures" occasionally. Reciting it to my partner gave it flesh and convinced me further that this would work. When I was finished, I asked her what she thought of it.
"Bella, I think it's a perfect idea," she enthused. "It's a big change to the dynamic at S&P, you know…but I think it will work, and beautifully. And it also serves dual purposes -- for the business and for your relationship with Edward."
With a sigh of relief, I flopped back onto my unmade bed. Esme was behind me, and that was all that mattered right now. And with the business end of things resolved, I could focus on repairing my relationship -- if there was anything left when I returned.
"Esme, I'm so sorry for subjecting you to all of this boyfriend-girlfriend drama," I said. "You know that I place our partnership and S&P above all else. It's just that…"
"B, you don't have to apologize -- really," Esme interrupted. "You haven't put me in the middle, and I know how much of a priority our company is to you. But honey, maybe it's time for you to make some new priorities for yourself."
"I know. Edward needs to be my focus right now," I admitted. "Okay. I'm going to drive back to the city today, and I'll be home for the rest of the day, I think. Call me if you need anything, and I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks, Esme."
"Sounds great, B," she said cheerily. "I'll touch base with you at the end of the day, and get you up to speed on the day's business. Can't wait to see you."
I said goodbye and disconnected the call, suddenly eager to be mobile. Charlie was awake and downstairs, so I changed into my running gear and trotted down to greet him before he left for the station.
"Morning, Dad," I chirped, surprised at the optimism in my voice. Charlie seemed equally shocked, but he smiled and said good morning, kissing me on the top of my head.
"So, Bells, what's the plan?" He poured some coffee into his travel mug, then looked back in my direction.
"I'm going to head back to the city this afternoon, I think, and play it by ear," I said. "Maybe I'll go into work later and do a little emailing and paperwork. Not sure yet."
"Good," Charlie said, smiling slightly in approval. His expression grew wistful, and the twinkle in his eye caught my attention. My stomach lurched at the thought of leaving the safety and warmth of my childhood home -- and my father. "Well, I'm off."
He went to the coat rack at the door and pulled on his heavy jacket, emblazoned with the emblem of the Forks Police Department and the embroidered Chief Swan on the left breast. Then he wrapped his gun belt around his waist and buckled it. I crossed the kitchen and hugged him tightly, breathing his aftershave and the smell of home.
"Dad, thanks so much for this weekend," I said sincerely. It had been exactly what I needed.
"Sure thing," he said, squeezing me back and kissing my hair. "Drive safe, okay, and don't be a stranger. It's too quiet around here."
"Dad, I promise I'll visit more often," I vowed. "How does turkey dinner and Thanksgiving sound? Good time for a visit, right? I'll cook. Like old times."
Charlie nodded thoughtfully and smiled again, pleased with the prospect of another visit from me this month. With another kiss to my temple, he grabbed his mug and opened the door.
"Love you, Bells," he said, turning toward his parked cruiser.
"Love you too, Dad," I called after him before shutting the door.
After gulping a glass of orange juice, I grabbed my iPod off the kitchen table and laced up my running shoes. I ran the same route as the day before, ignoring the slightly uncomfortable burn in my lungs and turning up the music.
Was it a Dream?
Your defenses were on high
Your walls built deep inside
Yeah I'm a selfish bastard
But at least I'm not alone
Shit. Was Jared Leto trying to kill me with his rather fitting words? Hastily I pressed the prompt button for the next song, trying not to slow my pace. The haunting beginning strains of a piano filtered through the mini-speakers and seeped into my brain. Fuck me.
This hurricane is chasing us all underground.
No matter how many deaths that I die, I will never forget
No matter how many lives I live, I will never regret
There's a fire inside this heart and a riot about to explode into flames
Do you really want me?
I frantically pressed the stop button and came to an abrupt halt at the top of the street, the house within view. Gasping and coughing, I bent over at the waist and rested my hands on my knees for support as I choked. Fuck. Me. I'd gotten kicked in the pants enough this weekend -- and rightfully so -- that another ass-kicking, courtesy of 30 Second to Mars, was adding insult to injury. I straightened up and stretched, absentmindedly rubbing my butt, and then I started walking toward the house. There was finally a wintry bite in the air, and soon my sweat sent a chill to my bones.
When I get home, I need to focus. Edward needs to know how much I love him; he needs to know what he's done for me. What his love has done for me. Even if this is over (I choked again at the thought) he needs to understand that despite my failures, I love him. And I always will.
There was no need to think longingly about the past few months; I knew it without even a second's consideration: Edward had changed me for the better. I ran the rest of the way down the street so I could start packing.
An hour later, I was showered, dressed and packed. I threw my bag into the backseat of the Audi and pulled out of the driveway, bidding a silent, temporary farewell to the white house and to Charlie. I'll be back for Thanksgiving. Promise. Suddenly in a rush to get home, I pressed down harder on the accelerator and crossed my fingers that I wouldn't get nabbed for speeding.
Once I was safely parked in the garage, I practically ran up the three flights of stairs to my townhouse, throwing my weight against the front door when my key wouldn't open it quickly enough for my taste. I dumped my bag unceremoniously on the floor in the entry hall and went to my phone to check my messages. One was from Renee, wondering where I was. Shit. Forgot to call her. Another was Alice just calling to say hello and reminding me to call her when I got home. The third was a hang-up. Hmm.
Flicking the kitchen light on to brighten the gray of the overcast day, I took my cell phone out of my purse and stared at it. There had been no contact between us for the entire weekend, despite our previous plans for pizza and beer. No texts, no missed calls. Nothing. Maybe he didn't want to even speak to me.
"Okay, girl, get a grip and put on your big girl panties," I said aloud in an attempt to give myself a pep-talk. "Time to face the music." Or maybe after I call Alice. She did want me to call her when I got it, after all.
Chicken-shit.
So instead, I dialed Alice's number. She couldn't talk long; she was on deadline at the magazine and the editor wanted the final copy on her winter fashion feature, so we made plans to talk that evening. With that call over and my stalling options running out, I placed my next call.
"Hey, this is Rose. Leave me a message."
I left a message and closed the phone. Strike two. With no one else left to call (I was not going to get into a conversation with my mother right now), I set the phone back on the island. I paced back and forth a few times, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. It was almost two. He'd probably be too busy to even pick up. And I had instituted a cell phone policy: keep personal calls to a minimum. And this most certainly qualified as a personal call. I chuckled at my own idiocy.
"Fine," I told myself, reaching for the phone with trembling fingers. I scrolled through my address book and paused when I came to Edward's entry. After another moment of hesitation, I took a deep breath and pressed send. His phone was on, and I listened, holding my breath, as it rang. One ring. Two. Three. Four. When I heard his voice, I nearly dropped the phone.
"Hi, you're reached the cell phone of Edward Cullen. Sorry I missed your call, but leave your name, a brief message and a phone number, and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able." The cheery but professional tone of his voice brought a smile to my face. Should I leave a message? Momentarily I panicked when the beep signaled my cue. He'd see that I called.
"Um, Edward. Hi. It's me. It's Bella," I stammered. Great job so far. "I…just wanted to call to, um, see how you are." Shit! "Um, I'll be back in to work tomorrow. If you want, give me a call. Um, I was hoping we could talk. Um, see you tomorrow, I guess. Okay, bye."
As I hung up I left my head fall into my hands. What an idiot! That was seriously the worst phone message ever. Way to get your point across, B. Foraging in my pantry seemed like a good way to pass the time and distract myself, so I began looking for something to eat. With peanut butter and crackers in-hand, I sat down on my couch and turned on the TV. This would be an excellent, mindless distraction.
Time dragged. I ate until my stomach began to ache; I wasn't sure if it was the copious peanut butter now in my belly or the waiting that hurt. Gradually the sun set behind the clouds, and I was watching Oprah and then the evening news in the dark. I got up to stretch and turn on a few lights, and to check my phone, of course. Not that I didn't know already. No new messages; no missed calls; no new texts.
Maybe he's working late tonight. I toyed briefly with the idea of sending him a text, but thought better of it, lest it seem too eager. But then again, I was beyond the point of caring about how things appeared.
Edward. It's B. Can we talk?
After pressing the send button, I walked away from the phone again, determined to busy myself. I unpacked my bag and made a grocery list. I paid some bills and did a load of laundry. I dusted the entire first floor, and then vacuumed. More time passed, and still he did not answer. What the fuck? I would've thought he'd at least respond to my text. It's always easier to be mean via text.
Thankfully, Alice called me then to save me from myself, and that occupied my brain for about 20 minutes. I told her about my weekend and asked about hers. She told me about her latest feature story and I told her it had felt weird not being at work that day. She asked me about Edward and I told her I'd called and texted, with no luck.
"He'll call or text, B," she said. "Try not to obsess."
"Ha. Easier said than done, Alice," I quipped. "What if he doesn't?"
"Well, he has to face you at some point," she said. "You work together! He can't avoid his boss forever." She laughed, and I groaned. After a few more words of friendly encouragement, we ended our conversation, and I decided a dinner of Ramen noodles was in order. With a meager dinner in my stomach and a bit more nightly news, I decided to call it a night. There was no point in staring at my phone any longer. All of my willing would not make it ring. I undressed and pulled on my yoga pants and tank top, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Then I walked back to the kitchen to retrieve my phone, and my breath caught.
One new text message.
What?
That's it? That's all he has to say? Definitely still angry. And hurt. The single word was like a slap to the face. Edward was justified in his derision, but I needed to at least get him to talk to me. I took the phone back with me and climbed into bed before I responded.
I just want to talk. Pls?
Why? I tried not to be completely disheartened by the one-word answer, yet again. Quickly I typed what I hoped was a plea for simple communication.
I have so much I want 2 tell u.
I've heard it all. Okay, well at least we'd graduated from the one-word replies. But this one still stung. He didn't want to talk to me; that much was clear.
No, u haven't. Pls. I don't want it 2 b like this.
Silence. For more than 10 minutes I waited for a response.
What do u want from me?
After a sigh of relief that he was still there, I typed my reply and pressed send.
Just a chance. Please. I might not deserve u, but u deserve the whole truth.
It was my Hail Mary pass in the last remaining seconds of the game. This wasn't about me anymore; this was about Edward needing to hear the unspoken words from my mouth, even if he walked away afterward. No more bullshit and no more jealousy and games veiling my insecurities. He deserved my complete honesty, and I was prepared to make good on it, if he'd let me.
Okay.
The power of his reply was like a punch to the gut, and I smiled breathlessly. He was going to give me a chance to explain.
When can we talk? Frankly, I was more than willing to make it right now. The sooner, the better. So I added, Now?
Can't now. Sorry.
Tomorrow? After work? How the hell was I going to sleep a wink now? I couldn't help but pout, and wonder why he wasn't willing to meet me tonight.
Okay. See u tomorrow.
"Wait! Don't go!" I yelled to my phone, as if somehow it would magically relay my voice to Edward.
Wait! Edward? There was no immediate response from him, so I settled under my covers with my phone cradled in my hands. I shut off the light and set my alarm after 15 minutes of silence. When the 20-minute mark had passed, I officially waved my white flag, and typed one last text.
Edward, I'm so sorry.
Five-thirty arrived much too early, and considering how little sleep I'd gotten, I literally had to drag my tired ass out of bed. I wasn't looking forward to this day for a multitude of reasons, and I couldn't ignore the nagging pit of nerves at the bottom of my stomach. My breakfast was discarded, half-eaten, in the kitchen sink, and not even a shower could wake me. I left for work extra early, planning to stop to get a coffee on the way.
"Excuse me. I ordered a hot, black coffee with sugar," I said to the girl behind the counter. I slid the heavy creamed coffee across the counter and smiled at the poor thing who had eight people in line behind me, and no one else to help her at the register.
"Oh, so sorry about that, Miss," she said, clearly exasperated. "I'll get you a new one." She looked around her frantically, obviously unnerved by the line growing behind me.
"You know what? Nevermind," I said. "I've been meaning to try something new anyways, and it looks like you have your hands full. No worries. Have a good day." She smiled in thanks and wished me the same as I walked away. Cream wasn't so bad in the coffee, anyways.
I pulled into my reserved parking space at exactly 7:30. Slowly I walked up the 10 flights of stairs and pushed through the glass doors of the office. The lights were off and it was completely silent. I turned on the lights and entered my office, and pulled off my suit jacket. Settling at my desk, I opened my email and began sorting through the messages. Edward had sent me a brief email bringing me up-to-date on one of his clients, and had attached the new ad campaign mockups. For some reason, I kept the email open on my desktop as I worked on other things.
At eight sharp there was a knock on my door, and Jessica came in with messages from the previous day and a small stack of new client files.
"Thanks Jessica," I said. "Was it busy here yesterday?"
"Um, y-yes," she said. "But Esme and Edward split up the client meetings and met with the executives. And, um…Tanya came in yesterday."
I nearly spit out my coffee. Tanya had dared to step foot into this office. Although I was furious, I tried to not let it show. After clearing my throat, I asked Jessica what had prompted the visit to her former employer.
"Well, she asked to see Edward about a 'possible business opportunity,'" Jessica began, apparently quoting Tanya. I looked up from my computer and stared intently at her, waiting. "But he had just left for a client lunch. She missed him by minutes. Did you want me to get her contact information so you can call her back?"
"Yes, Jessica, that would be great," I said, in my best calm-boss voice. Although I had no idea what I'd say or do if I actually called Tanya. Nothing but threats and swears (and maybe some pulling hair and punching) came to my mind. "Thanks."
Jessica excused herself and I got back to work. Moments later, a very chipper Esme flitted into my office and flopped into one of my office chairs with a sigh. The smile and the blissful air about her suggested she'd had a nice weekend with Carlisle, and I was going to hear about it.
"Good morning, Bella," she said with a grin. "How are you? Did you have a good evening? And I never really got a chance to ask you about your weekend. Was it nice visiting with Charlie? How is he? Did you guys do anything fun?" When she was finished with her barrage of questioning, she leaned back in the chair and grinned again.
"Hi, yourself," I said with a smile. "I'm good. My evening was okay, but I didn't sleep very well. Don't ask. Yes, my weekend was nice. Charlie and I hung out and we went for a hike on Sunday, which was really nice. He's good. Same as always -- just a little greyer. Does that cover it?" Esme nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answers.
"So…you look like the cat that ate the canary," I added. "Spill it, Es." Esme paused only for a moment before telling me about her weekend with Carlisle, and honestly, I tried to pay attention. My mind kept drifting back to his brother, however, and all I could do was nod and smile and hope that she wasn't going to quiz me later. Shit.
"We're going to sit down with Edward today, right?"
Esme's question cut through my thoughts and my heart dropped into my stomach as I was reminded of my plan. Right. I had hoped to have been able to speak with Edward before our meeting, but that had failed. And I didn't know when or where we were meeting after work. Great attempt at mending fences, B.
"Should we do it today," I asked meekly. Maybe Esme could be convinced to wait tomorrow…or until Friday. Maybe that would give me enough time to apologize to Edward and set things right again.
"I think so," Esme answered. "The sooner, the better, so we can begin making the transition. It's going to impact everyone, so I think we need to give them all time to process this and adjust. Don't you?"
I couldn't argue with her rationale, though my nerves screamed for us to put this off. And I wasn't sure how Edward would react to it, either. It wasn't as if we needed to bring him into this conversation before the decision was made, but it would affect him much more than the others. And I was fearful that once he knew, he might think of me differently. Not that it matters now anyways.
"Okay, Esme," I acquiesced. "When do you want to sit down with him?"
"I'll go get him now," she said, standing up. "He's in his office." Before I could utter another word, she was out the door. I took a moment to calm myself and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. All that did was make me lightheaded. Okay, we're doing this. And it will be fine. I will be fine. Esme will be fine. Edward will be fine.
Everything ceased to be fine when Esme returned with a visibly stressed Edward Cullen. It seemed like ages since I'd seen him, and I drank in the sight greedily. His hair was in its usual state of complete disarray; he had, no doubt, been running his fingers through it excessively this morning. His suit, as always, was impeccable and cut perfectly and the green shirt brought out the copper highlights in his hair. I saved his beautiful face for last, and nearly lost my breath. His eyes were dark and troubled, but still lit, albeit dimly, from within; dark circles under them hinted at a recent lack of sleep; the contour of his chiseled jaw was even more hand-set and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
His eyes fell on mine, and for a moment everything else disappeared. I tried so hard to communicate what I could not with words. I wanted to run to him, wrap my arms around him and beg unabashedly for his forgiveness. What I wanted, apparently, was irrelevant at this moment. I watched as Esme took the chair to my right and Edward slowly eased himself into the other, his eyes darting around my office.
"Edward, Bella and I wanted to call this impromptu meeting because we have an announcement of sorts," Esme began. Edward glanced at me, which seemed to cause him physical pain. He had no idea what this was doing to me.
"Yes. Thank you, Edward, for making the time," I said, trying to test the strength and pitch of my voice. Cool and calm, B. He looked at me and this time his face was devoid of any emotion, and that scared me more than anything. "Like Esme said, we've decided to make a change here at S&P and we wanted you to be the first to know, since this will impact you first and to the largest degree."
I could tell Edward was steeling himself. His face betrayed nothing, but I saw that his hands were gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles had turned white. It didn't do much for my confidence, so I plowed on.
"Esme, if you don't mind," I began. She nodded her head. "Edward, Esme and I have decided that I'm going to leave S&P…to open a new location. In Portland." Edward blinked a few times, his mouth dropping open slightly, looking at me in disbelief. He looked at Esme -- she nodded in affirmation -- and then looked at me again. The silence in the room as we waited for his response was deafening. Well, it was most likely only that way for me.
"Well, um, this certainly is a surprise," he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. He trained his gaze on Esme; I noticed his death-grip on my office chair did not lessen. "And not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but why did you tell me first?"
I allowed Esme to take over. "Well, Edward, as the essential third in command here, I'll be relying on you heavily now, once Bella leaves, to fill the gaps in management while we transition. So this change will impact you more directly than the others. And should you decide, certainly this opens a new opportunity for you as the new VP." Edward seemed to be having difficulty keeping his mouth from falling ajar.
"Now, we will have to properly advertise the position, but you will certainly have the upper hand in terms of experience, should you choose to pursue it when the time comes," Esme continued. "Of course, officially I can't tell you that."
Edward straightened his tie and ran his fingers through his poor hair, processing all of the information. Still it seemed he couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes, and this did not loosen the tight knots in my stomach.
"Esme…Ms. Swan, thank you for sharing this with me," Edward managed awkwardly. "Of course I am more than happy to assist you in making this transition as smooth as possible, and I will certainly consider applying for the post -- when the time comes. Until then, Esme, I'm at your disposal." Why won't he look at me?
Esme informed him that there would be subsequent meetings on the move over the course of the next month, leading up to my departure in six weeks. Six weeks. The time was going to fly, I was certain. Esme and I had figured it would take us that long to establish a new office in Portland, conduct interviews and hiring, cultivate leads and secure new clients, and phase me out of the Seattle office. It was a lot to do in a relatively short period of time. And that was work. I had no idea what I was going to do about Edward. After he'd left, Esme turned to me with a hopeful smile.
"That went well," she offered. I nodded distractedly, my mind on other things. "Bella, it's all going to be fine."
"I know, Es. Thanks." She stood up, grasped my hand briefly, and left. The day went by quickly, and as the sun set I finally got up and stretched, my back protesting to the sudden change. Esme popped in to say good night, and once her footsteps faded, the silence of the empty office invaded my ears. I hadn't spoken to Edward since our meeting, but he hadn't left; I could hear the faint click of computer keys and the occasional throat-clear. It's now or never. Just go in there.
Mustering my courage -- and again surprised that I was suddenly left without it -- I walked down the hall, pausing outside his office door. I knocked on the frame, as his door was open, and waited for him to turn to acknowledge me. It seemed to take him forever, but when he did turn around his face was devoid of emotion again. He nodded and turned back to his computer. I entered and took a seat across from him, with his maple desk separating us.
"Um, Edward, sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to see what time you wanted to get together to, um, talk, and whether you'd like to get coffee…or dinner?" For a few moments, there was no answer from him, and it felt like it might as well have been a continent separating us instead of just a piece of wood.
"Why are you doing this?" Edward's voice floated over to me in a strained whisper. Slowly he turned his gaze on me, and then unleashed the full power of his emerald stare. There were so many emotions there that it was too difficult for me to isolate one.
"I want to talk," I answered. It was all I could say. And I wasn't going to leave him alone until we did just that.
"There's nothing to talk about," he said, anger and hurt in his voice. "First, the shit on Friday. Now you drop this bomb on me that you're leaving, and…you're running away, aren't you?"
Anger flared in my gut, an automatic defensive response to his accusation. Before I let my temper get the best of me, though, I realized that Edward was only reacting to what seemed clear to him. Calm down, B.
"Edward, I am so very sorry for what happened on Friday," I began, itching to reach for him. "I've been thinking about it since then -- I've been thinking about a lot of things, actually -- and that's why I wanted to talk to you. Today's news…well, I hope you understand why I didn't tell you about it before, but it's not what you think. I'm not running away." He didn't say anything, but turned his body away from the computer, so I decided to continue.
"Regardless of what…happens…with us," I said, struggling to get the words out, "Esme and I have been discussing the concept of opening a satellite office for some time. We've been looking at a number of different locations, and I even considered Chicago in light of our recent trip there. It just made more sense for me to open the office. I love Esme and she's a great partner, but she doesn't have the grit to bulldoze her way into a new market; we all know I do."
"But why now? You can't tell me it has nothing to do with what happened last week," Edward said, his tone disbelieving.
"I'll be completely honest with you," I said. "In light of…everything, it just fell into place perfectly. But no, the decision had nothing to do with it. Esme and I have been planning this for months, and with the holidays approaching we both figured it might slow down enough to get me out of here with my sanity intact." Again, I watched as Edward processed what I'd told him, waiting for a reaction or some sign that he believed me. He nodded his head minutely, and stood from his desk.
"Well, I appreciate you being honest with me," he said, walking to get his wool coat, hanging near the door. I panicked as it became clear that he was leaving for the night.
"Edward, wait. I was hoping we could talk more," I said in a rush, meeting him at his door as he gathered his things. "There's so much more you need to know, even if this is over."
That stopped him. His back was to me, but I knew from his body language that my words had gotten through. His head dipped slightly and I watched as the muscles in his jaw flexed. His hand gripped the handle on his briefcase so hard that again, his knuckles turned white. When he turned around, his expression brought tears to my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last few days.
"Is that what you want, Bella," he asked, his brows furrowed and his eyes dark. My breathing was ragged and ineffective as I utilized every ounce of restraint not to smooth the worry from his face with my fingers. I wanted to kiss him, hold him, crawl inside him and reassure Edward that I'd never hurt him again.
"No, Edward," I whispered, stepping a bit closer. "That's not what I want at all. Not at all." For a moment the two of us just stood there in the doorway of Edward's office. Neither one of us, it seemed, knew what to do. Two inches and a whole lot of words kept me from the man I wanted. And I knew I needed to fill that space with an explanation before I could even think about reestablishing our physical connection.
Edward sighed offered a meager smile. "Well, then let's go."
"Where? To talk? Right now?" My brain struggled to switch gears as I followed him down the hall. He stopped outside my office and I hurried in to shut off lights and grab my things. I stood before him with my arms full, and he gently took my coat, holding it out for me. My brain reveled in the tender gesture, and then we walked out to the elevator together.
"Want to get dinner?" Edward asked. "It's late, and I'm hungry."
"How about you come to my place," I suggested, before I had even considered he might not want to come over. Shit. "I think I owe you some pizza and beer." It was worth a shot, at least. The elevator doors closed in front of us, and I watching the LED floor numbers tick down from 10. Please come over. Please.
"Okay."
We stepped out into the parking garage, and as Edward moved toward his car, his hand lightly brushed mine. The electric charge shot through my fingers and exploded inside me, and I nearly giggled. I'd missed the sensation. Edward turned at my squeaky outburst, but said nothing, and tossed his briefcase in the backseat of the Audi.
"All right, so, um, if you want to follow me…" I said, not knowing how to finish.
"Sure," he said, one corner of his beautiful mouth turned up in what I hoped was the beginnings of a smile. Before I could say anything else, he got into his car, and I did the same. Carefully I pulled out of my space and eased my car into the sparse traffic. The short drive home only increased my jitters. This could go really well -- or terribly wrong. I pulled into my townhouse parking garage, and Edward followed, parking in the empty space beside me.
We walked up the stairs silently; apparently Edward was nervous, too. From the corner of my eye I watched his fingers travel through his hair every few seconds and his tongue dart out to repeatedly lick his lips. I miss that mouth, and that tongue. The scene mesmerized me, making me momentarily forget my feet were moving.
"Oof!" I exclaimed as I tripped, my body heading for a collision with the floor. A strong hand caught me mid-fall, and my face instantly flamed as Edward righted me, a slight smirk twisting his lips. Keep your eyes on the road, B.
"You all right?" I nodded like an imbecile, but kept my mouth shut.
"This is me," I offered lamely when I stopped in front of my door, fumbling to get the key in the lock. I could feel Edward's warm breath on my neck, and it was not constructive in my efforts to get inside. Finally, the key turned and I felt a small victory in my success. Switching on the hall light, I stood aside to let Edward walk past me. He slowly spun around, taking in what he could see of my home, and completed the circle when he got to me.
"Very nice," he said simply, his eyes still on me. I tried not to just toss the idea of talking out the window in favor of makeup sex, cleared my throat, and removed my coat. I took Edward's coat as well and directed him into the kitchen. Taking out a ball of dough, mozzarella, olives and bacon, I then turned to him.
"Are these ingredients okay? I love the saltiness of the olives and bacon, and I think we need comfort pizza tonight," I said. I took two beers from the fridge and offered him one.
"It sounds delicious," he said, taking a long pull from his beer. His fingers caressed the bottle, and I cleared my throat again and started opening the olives in order to distract myself. What is he trying to do to me? Kill me with sexy? Edward probably didn't even know he was doing it. Damn it.
Unsure of how to start this discussion, I rolled up my sleeves and decided to prepare the pizza ingredients while the dough had time to rise. The silence behind me was expected, so I gasped and dropped the cheese grater when Edward's cold fingers found my elbow.
"Uh, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," he said quietly, just inches away. My body was a live wire, aching for more contact, and Edward was dangerously close. "Need any help?" His fingers did not move. This was killing me.
"Nope. I've got it," I said, suddenly desperate for some space with which to clear my muddled thoughts. "Just sit down and relax, and I'll take care of it." Edward leaned over my shoulder and inhaled deeply, and bit down on my lip roughly to steady myself. His body was touching mine, the heat from his chest radiating through his button-down and my light sweater. How do you grate cheese, again?
"That mozzarella smells good," he said, finally moving away from me. Once he was seated at the island, I took a deep, cleansing breath. Steady, girl. Once I finished cutting olives and slicing cheese, I began cooking the bacon and reached into the fridge for another beer. I turned back to Edward, who was again studying me like he was going to be quizzed later, and set the beer on the island counter.
"Need another one?" I offered, sliding it to him. Before I had time to remove my hand, Edward's was covering mine, wrapped around the bottle. My eyes flashed to his in surprise and I watched as his expression softened.
"Thanks," he said, not moving the bottle or his hand. "Now. What was it you'd like to tell me?"
A/N: Don't kill me, people! Put the torches and pitchforks down! The next chapter, I promise, will be a hefty one, full of lots of talk and maybe some action, too. The song excerpts in this chapter were from The Kill, Was it a Dream and Hurricane, all of 30 Second to Mars. No copyright infringement intended.
Have you all noticed that Bella has changed from poetry to music? What do you think? I think she needs some time with Edward to get her back on track! Don't forget to visit the HtS thread on Twilighted to submit your ideas for the one-shot! http://www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9356
Please leave comments/reviews! I love them like great plans!