Author's Note: I hope you're liking it so far, now for a little Edward.

Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.

Two

"Edward, you may be the last remaining American that doesn't own a cell phone. Don't forget the blueprints for the University addition. You know, this would be a lot easier if you just picked up your phone once in a while or are you officially a shut-in now?"

I laughed at Jasper's rant and picked up the phone, swallowing my last bit of coffee. "You're one to talk, when was the last time you went out with anyone besides me?"

"Ditto."

"Touché."

"So, do you have the revised blueprints?" He asked; I could hear the traffic noises behind him.

"Yeah…are you still at your apartment?"

"No…I'm standing outside it," I heard a muffled "Taxi!"

I chuckled to myself, "I could walk and get to the office before you."

"That's because you live in Gramercy, you're almost a straight shot," the sounds of street noise dimmed and I could hear Jasper giving the taxi driver an address. "I'll see you in a few."

We hung up and I slipped my suit jacket on, grabbed my things, and walked out the door. I juggled my belongings as I locked up, managing to keep everything in my hands. I was early enough that I had time to grab another coffee on the corner before I hailed a cab; I'm not too ashamed to admit that I'm a bit of an addict. I gave the driver the address to my firm and held on while he weaved in and out of traffic - lights, lanes, and other signals merely general guidelines which he wholly ignored.

I tossed my empty cup into the garbage and straightened my tie near the bank of elevators inside. After a few minutes I saw Jasper jogging toward me, brushing some hair away from his face. He nodded in greeting as I hit the button for the elevator. We were the two youngest architects at Perkins Eastman, one of the most prestigious firms in New York City. The two of us tended to get underestimated, but now we were on our way to a meeting that could possibly land us our first multi-million dollar account. Jasper and I exchanged a quick glance to steady ourselves before walking into the conference room.

"That was excellent," Jasper was still saying even though it was now the end of the day. The meeting couldn't have gone any better; it also helped that Jasper and the representative grew up in the same town in Texas. The plan had been for me to show the revised blueprints, but he took control and soon enough, contracts were being drawn up. "C'mon, let's get a drink," he offered.

"I was just going to go –"

"No, it's Friday, it's tradition."

"No it isn't."

"Well it is now."

We gathered our things and took a walk to a nearby watering hole, Old Town Bar; it wasn't my favorite place to go for a drink, the bartender was a little overly zealous in her pursuit, but it was close by. There were no tables open so we took a seat at the bar and despite my optimism that she wouldn't be there, she was. She saw me as well. "Edward," she drew out my name as she said it; Jasper stifled a laugh.

"Hello Tanya," I said in what I hoped was a congenial manner.

I don't think she realized that Jasper was with me. "You haven't been here in a while, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She purred.

"We landed a new account at our firm," Jasper said, loosening his tie. He knew very well what Tanya's feelings were toward me, but he liked to have his fun.

"Congratulations!" She reached out and touched my arm. "Well then, the first drink is on me, what can I get you?"

We ordered in spite of my protests and I immediately began looking for an open table. There was one I thought was open in the back, furthest from the bar, but on closer inspection I noticed there was actually a woman sitting there alone. She appeared to be writing something which struck me as odd; a bar didn't seem like the best place to write anything. I couldn't see her face, but her body language suggested she wanted to be left alone. I'm not sure why I was paying so much attention; looking at her was actually reminding me of my own loneliness, not that I would admit something like that.

Jasper and I talked for a while, truthfully, Jasper talked while I tried to subtly reject Tanya's advances. After a time I sneaked a glance at the table with the lonely looking brunette; she appeared to be getting ready to leave. As she got up, holding her coat, purse, and whatever she'd been writing, a man who had already had a few too many bumped into her, sending both of their belongings flying. I got up to help as the woman scrambled to pick everything up. However, by the time I was near enough, she was standing up and rushing out the door. Jasper excused himself to go to the bathroom as I took the now vacant table.

I slid into the seat the woman had been sitting in and as I was, I heard something crumple under my foot. I reached down; it was a plain, lined sheet of paper. I should have just crumbled it up, I shouldn't have read the first couple of lines, and I shouldn't have folded the paper and put it in my jacket pocket.

It was late by the time I got back to my apartment; I unlocked the door and walked straight for the bedroom. After I undressed and got ready for bed, I slipped on my reading glasses and got under the covers, resting my back against the headboard. I unfolded the letter, feeling a little bit like a cad but unable to help myself, and started to read.

Dear Whoever You Are,

This is one of the least thought out things I've ever written; I can't believe I let Rosalie talk me into this. No, that's not true, I talked myself into this. So…I feel a little stupid. Should I start with what I want? Or what I don't want? That might be easier. I don't want this to be it for me. I don't want a boyfriend that treats me like he doesn't care, that treats me like a maid, a cook, and an overall burden. I don't know how I became that girl; it's not exactly what I hoped to be growing up. It's sad that the highlight of my day is when he looks up from the television to say hello. But he's been through so much with me; he stood by me through everything I went through two years ago and he really hasn't asked much of me. Don't I owe it to him to stick it out? I don't know, maybe that's for another time.

So, what do I actually want? Good question. Most of the time I feel like what I want is so simple and still so completely out of my reach. I want to smile again, to be happy for people and really mean it. I want to not feel so lonely. I want to know what real love feels like. I want the little things, doing the Sunday crossword together in bed, going for walks in the fall because the leaves are so pretty (not that they actually change color here), someone who doesn't throw off their shoes in the entryway, someone who shares the covers and the bed, someone with passion and drive, someone who really sees me.

I don't know, maybe no one ever really gets everything they want. Things aren't so bad, I have friends who I adore, that matters. I don't have to worry about how I'm going to make rent or where my next meal is coming from. Maybe I'm just being selfish.

The letter ended there. I felt distinctly awful for reading it; this woman had opened herself up and now here I was, thoughtlessly invading her privacy. The sheet of paper even had my shoeprint on it. I tried to straighten out the folds as best I could, not that I knew why, when I noticed something else written across the back. The handwriting was the same as the letter and again I couldn't stop myself. There was a name, Bella Swan, an address, and underneath that it said, in case you've forgotten. I smiled sadly, what had this girl been through? What was she still going through?

I felt the need to do something, but I had no idea what. I sat for a while, turning the letter over in my hands, feeling the indentations from the words on the paper. Around 2 a.m. I got up and went to my desk, rifling through a drawer until I found a small stack of white, unlined paper. That would have to do; I pulled out a pen and got to work.