BPOV
I sat on the floor of the bathroom and did my best to settle my breathing down. It was tough going.
Fear and adrenalin mixed in my system to make my heart thump and my head pound in time with it.
I'd been stupid and naive and too trusting, again.
I'd broken every rule I'd put in place for myself after Jake and had undone years of therapy in what was probably only five minutes.
I checked my watch but I really had no idea how long I'd danced with him. Time had stood still. Like those dream sequences in corny romantic movies time had ceased while I'd been in his arms.
And then he shoved me and my body had responded as it always did after Jake.
My vision blurred, I lost my footing, I lost all ability to reason what a situation meant and I panicked plain and simple.
Why he shoved me I didn't know. But I'd been waiting for him to show an aggressive side, one that would match the controlling ego maniac side I'd already seen, and he hadn't disappointed. What I'd done to provoke him I didn't know and it didn't matter.
I knew better than to think I might have done anything at all to make him turn on me the way he had. Jake had taught me that sometimes you didn't need to do anything at all.
The boom of the first firework being let off had spooked him. I'd felt him jump. I'd jumped myself. So perhaps it was as simple as he'd been spooked and responded with his normal reaction. Aggression and hostility.
I didn't care why he'd reacted the way he had, just that he had.
My watch read eight thirteen. In forty seven minutes I would've been leaving anyway and I knew that Jasper wouldn't question my leaving early if I said it was important. So I called my brother.
I told him I'd had a call from the airline and they were rescheduling my flight. I had to leave now if I was going to make it. Jasper bought it because there was no reason for him not to and I let him reassure me that he and Alice would make sure the pack up and clean up went to plan.
I promised to catch up with him in two days time, as we'd arrange prior, once both he and Alice were back in Sydney. He wished me a safe flight, told me he loved me and I was on my way.
I forwarded my calls to Jasper's cell and switched mine off.
I splashed some cold water onto my face, fixed my hair back into its ponytail and smoothed down my clothing. I set my game face but on and walked out of the bathroom as though I didn't have a care in the world.
I sneaked back to the administration block and slipped into my rental car without being stopped. I drove carefully out the front gate and never looked back.
It wasn't far to the hotel and once I'd thrown my belongings into my bag I was back in the car and heading for the small regional airport.
A half hour after leaving the Equity Steel site I had checked my baggage, bought a coffee and a sandwich from the small cafe at the airport and was in a seat in the waiting lounge clutching my boarding pass.
Nobody approached me and I was thankful for it. I was holding it together but it was taking everything I had to pull that off. The slightest knock and I'd fall apart at the seams and I knew it.
When the tannoy announced my flight was boarding I was the first in line.
As we taxied down the tiny runway I put my head into my hands and cried.
He'd felt so right but had turned out to be just what I'd initially thought he was. A psycho who I never wanted to speak to or see ever again.
EPOV
Emmett had seen me running, Seth hot on my heels and then us split apart. So he too took off running, towards where the two of us now stood, heads swivelling still trying to find the bastard with the camera.
I'd come up empty in the kitchen. Jasper hadn't seen her, or heard from her, and neither had anyone else. I had to hope she was still on the property.
I'd run back to where I'd agreed to meet Seth and learned that he too had come up empty. No bastard with a camera. I should've, if I'd been thinking straight, told Seth to go after Isabella. I'd gotten a good look at the journo and Seth's glimpse was just that, a glimpse.
But I hadn't been thinking straight. I hadn't been thinking straight since I'd seen her dancing on her own at the back of the stage and now I was paying the price for it.
I just hoped Isabella wasn't going to split the cost with me, but even that early on I knew that she would. The press had been waiting an age to 'get' me for something. Either something seedy or tawdry or something with either a woman or a man that they could exploit.
So far they'd never gotten a thing. Didn't stop them making shit up though. Usually it was easily refutable like the time I'd been photographed at the beach with a friends little girl. The headline the next day was some bullshit about me having fathered the kid out of wedlock and ditching the mother and stealing the kid away.
The actual father, a university friend of mine, sued the paper and won. A big win and a big settlement.
After that the stories became more vague...women I was seen with were described as my possible lovers. Children I was seen with were written about as resembling me very vaguely. Private homes I visited that weren't my sisters or my parents were called mystery residences.
When the bastards couldn't dig up or fabricate anything in my personal life – which was solely because by then I didn't have one – they began to dig into my business life.
Which side of that fence this piece of shit journalist was from was anybody's guess. It would be up to Seth to find out and from the storm brewing behind his features he was eager to get going on that.
"What's going on?" Emmett asked breathlessly when he got to us.
"Fucking journo snapped me and Isabella dancing behind the stage just now," I snarled, still looking about to see if I could find him.
"Who the fuck let a journalist in?" Emmett asked, looking around too even though he had no idea what the guy had looked like.
"That'll have to wait," Seth told him. "Right now our priority is to find the guy, or find out who he works for, get those pics back and pay them off not to write the blurb that'll go with it."
"I'll get the two versions of the press release moving," Emmett stammered as he shifted uneasily on the balls of his feet. He'd gone in the same direction mentally that I had.
"Do it," I told him simply.
"How far do you want me to dig?" he asked and I cringed.
"Don't dig. And I mean that, Em," I told him, pointing at him firmly. "Her private life is her business."
"I agree, in principle," he nodded. "And if the story that's going to hit the papers says she's a lovely girl from a good family who works hard and threw a great party today then that's exactly what I'll follow with. Her private life is her business. But, you and I both know that it's just as likely that whoever gets hold of those photos is going to dig and they're going to dig deep, bro. You're worth the headline and worth the money it'll cost to unearth any secret she's got."
"Give me a minute," I begged and began to pace. They were both going to want directions from me but my head was reeling.
My body was vibrating with such rage that I knew I'd crash after the adrenalin rush had subsided. I needed to be back at the hotel when that happened.
I knew the game and I knew how it was played. If the truth couldn't be found it would be made up. If I put the truth out there it'd be twisted until it was a seedy, illicit affair between employer and employee. We'd both be ruined. If I said nothing and let the story, whatever it was going to be, come out as is and didn't respond I'd be labelled whatever anybody wanted to label me and we'd still both be ruined.
"She's of age," I began, making a list of all that was okay with the situation out loud so Emmett would be able to follow my thought process. "She's single I think. She's attractive, smart, is professionally brilliant and well respected. She's a sub contractor so I'm not her direct employer. My parents are her friends and that never hurts."
"And she did amazing things here today. I can work with all that," Emmett told me.
"On the other hand I don't know for sure that she's single. It could easily be made to seem as though I was her direct employer, sub contractor or not. I was seen dancing with her and it wasn't busting a move in a nightclub. It was waltzing in a secluded spot at a company party. Fuck. They're going to chew her up and spit her out," I growled.
"Probably," Emmett agreed unhelpfully. "And if she's got any kind of past they'll find it, bastards. This could get ugly, Ed. If the pictures turn out to be crap we might be able to bluff our way out of this. If she stays unidentified I can fake it until I make it. But if they find something, or she's..." he trailed off sadly.
"I know," I sighed. "And I fucking led them to her," I cursed as I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "And I can't fucking find her to warn her, or say sorry, or beg her to forgive what's going to happen to her now. Fuck. Fuck!" I bellowed.
Seth had me by the elbow and was leading me towards the administration block in a heartbeat. I didn't need to be seen to be losing my shit in the middle of a party after all.
Emmett, close on our heels, already had one of his staff on the phone and they were already talking strategy. His team would split into two groups. One would write a response saying we were just friends who happened to share a few moments dancing at a private party held on the Equity Steel property. The other team would write a response distancing me from anything to do with Isabella Swan, Swan Catering and Events and anyone associated with that company.
The official line from team one would be that I was entitled to have friends and that I was dancing with one of them at a private function, for fun. From team two it would be that I pushed her away as she'd made an inappropriate advance to her employer, and with her past to consider I felt I was protecting myself by pushing her away.
I hated both teams instantly.
I hated both responses instantly.
I smoked one cigarette after another while Emmett prepped his teams and Seth got his own team both here and back in Sydney to begin the hunt for whatever story was being commissioned.
I was useless.
I'd caused the problem and I was useless to fix it or stop it now.
I'd put that lovely, sweet girl in an impossible situation from which both of us might emerge damaged and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do about it.
"Hi Jasper, its Edward Cullen calling," I told the guy on the other end of my phone as calmly as I could. "I need to speak with Isabella, could you text me her number please?"
"Sorry Edward, Bella's flight got changed at the last minute so she's already in the air on her way home," he said. "I've got all her running sheets and contact stuff up here at the food hall if there's a problem?"
"No, no, that's alright. It was something for my mother. She wanted to book another date for another benefit," I lied as smoothly as I could.
"I'll text you Angela Weber's number as well then," he said. I could hear the shuffling of paper in the background and wondered who the hell Angela Weber was. "She's taking over Bella's job now and she's pretty great. I'll send you both numbers now. Give Angela a call on Monday morning and I'm sure she'll be able to help."
"This was Bella's last job for you?" I asked, shaking and already sweating knowing this was going to make things worse in so many ways.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Hell of a swan song huh? Get it? She's Bella Swan, swan song?" he chuckled.
"Yeah, good one. Thanks Jasper," I said and then ended the call. "Jesus Christ," I muttered to myself and then went to find Emmett. His job was about to get even harder.
If Isabella was moving to a new job, and this hit the papers in the way I dreaded it was going to, then her new job was in jeopardy. Emmett, or perhaps my mother as she was on quite friendly terms with both Isabella and her brother, were going to need to sound out whether Jasper would take his sister back and reinstate her into her job should that happen.
I would also inform our Human Resources director that a position within Cullen Enterprises may need to be found that could harness her talents should Jasper refuse. I wouldn't be responsible for ruining her financially as well as personally.
Her private life, whatever it turned out to be, was quite likely to become very public and if that wasn't quite bad enough her professional life could well be over too.
All because of one stolen moment.
All because of me.
BPOV
I was on autopilot when I landed in Sydney. I walked through that terminal so deep in thought I doubted I'd notice if I was mugged. I wasn't, thankfully, but I'd have been an easy target in the state I was in.
Luckily for me the traffic was light due to the late hour and the driver of my taxi not only spoke English but knew where he was going too.
Unluckily for me that meant I had about an hour to sit in the back of that taxi and think some more.
By the time I got to my apartment I was exhausted mentally and physically.
I should've been pleased that my last ever job for Jasper had gone so well, but I wasn't. The whole experience was tarnished with the events of that one dance.
The comfort of my shower did soothe me a little but it was so quiet in my tiny piece of real estate that it just allowed me to think even more.
By the time I crawled between the sheets and closed my eyes I'd decided that I'd been stupid to let myself wonder which version of him was the true one. It shouldn't have mattered to me either way. He'd employed me to throw him a party and I'd done that. There should never have been any other contact other than that. Not after the way he'd behaved in sideshow alley.
He'd shown me his true colours then and again on the stage. He didn't know me from Eve when I'd laughed at him and he'd treated me like any other girl in a crowd. I was a lowly employee up on that stage and rightly so he shouldn't have kissed me as Emmett had. He was right not to do that. I could see that now.
The vulnerability I thought I'd seen before he got on the stage was for the Equity employees sakes. The stammering, the slight stutter he'd had as he began to speak was a carefully crafted part of the image he'd wanted to project.
Emmett had probably coached him for weeks on how to behave.
What I'd seen personally was the real Edward Cullen.
What those Equity Steel employees saw was the image he wanted them to see.
My last thought before I let sleep take me was that I was glad I'd seen the real Edward Cullen and had been smart enough to recognise the fake one.
EPOV
Seth drove me back to the hotel. Emmett stayed at the party and gave my excuses to the family and to anyone else who asked after me after that. I had a headache. I had an important conference call I couldn't miss. A crisis at one of my other smelters had taken my attention away. Depending on who asked the answer varied.
Seth drove in silence and I was grateful. If his head was filled with strategies on how to get the information about the journalist then I wasn't surprised he was quiet. I couldn't think of how that could be done but I hoped he knew.
As for me my head was filled with all the ways I could set it right with Isabella.
I knew there was very little chance that she'd let me but I was going to try.
Once at the hotel I made myself a coffee and went onto the balcony to have yet another cigarette.
I dialled her number so many times in the first hour that I had it memorised and no longer needed to check Jasper's text message anymore.
I knew how long the flight back would take and I knew that she'd be on the ground ,if not already at her home by then. But every time I dialled it went right to her voicemail. It never rang. Just her sweet, soft voice urging me to leave my name and number so she could return my call as soon as she was able.
I went back inside only long enough to tell Seth I needed to see him when he was finished with his calls. Then I went back out and started on another cigarette.
I had the heels of my palms to my eyes when he did come out.
"They're all bloodshot," he pointed out. "Go in and take your contacts out. I'll be right here."
I did as he said and did feel a little better for it. He'd been right though. Both eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot as I swapped the contacts for my glasses. I didn't wear them in public too much anymore. I was afraid to have Lasik eye surgery and had accepted Emmett's advice to use contacts instead of being seen pushing my glasses back up my nose constantly.
Even in that I couldn't be myself. I had to not be myself, not be comfortable, for the public. I hated the contacts. They dried out my eyes and made my nose run by the end of the day. I didn't even look like myself without my glasses. I'd worn them since I was thirteen and they were as much a part of who I was as my hair was. Or at least it had been before I had it cut this short I thought as I looked at myself in disgust in the bathroom mirror.
"You're a fucking fraud," I hissed at my own image and blinked, hoping that the face I saw when I stopped would be me again.
But it wasn't. It was the guy who everyone else thought I should be. Not me. Not really.
I tore off the clothes that weren't me either and threw them onto the floor.
I went back into my temporary bedroom and found a pair of suit pants and a button down. As I did up the cuffs at my wrists I felt a little better. This was who I was. At least a little more of who I was than I was whilst wearing trainers and jeans.
I went back out onto the balcony and true to his word Seth was there.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"A little," I said truthfully and took a seat opposite him. "Did you find him?"
"No," was his simply answer. "But Jared got his plate number as he left the parking lot which is something. The car will be registered to whoever paid for it, probably not him, but I can work with that."
"And when you find him?" I asked, knowing Seth would move heaven and earth to do so.
"I ask him nicely not to write a story about you." He grinned but it wasn't a nice smile. It was a menacing, calculated smile.
"And when he declines?"
"Then I ask him not so nicely. And when he still says he's going to print it I switch to damage control instead."
"I don't want her reputation destroyed because she was seen with me," I tell him firmly. "If there is any way to limit the damage done to her I want it done. No matter what it costs. No matter what they print about me personally I want as much about her kept out of it as possible."
"I'll do my best, kid," he said softly and I knew he meant it. He'd used his pet name for me and I felt a little calmer knowing he was on my side and he was my friend as well as my bodyguard.
"She doesn't deserve what's coming for her," I whisper as I light yet another cigarette.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," I tell him.
"Why does it matter to you what's printed about her? You only met her today, right?"
With Seth I always tell the truth and this was to be no exception. I blew the smoke out over my lips and sat back in my chair.
"That's true; I did meet her for the first time today. But I'd seen her once before," I say. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. I have his full attention now. "Do you remember I went to dad's hospital benefit at Rydges back in March?" I ask and he nods. Of course he remembers, he drove me that night.
I recounted how I'd first seen her. Outside in the dark. Dancing all alone and looking so lovely and content. He smiled when I was done.
"So you asked her to dance with you tonight?" he asked.
"I did. But I'd been a prick to her earlier in the day, before I knew who she was. And I hadn't had a chance to explain or to apologise so she didn't exactly want to dance with me at first."
"But she did. The journo got photos of the two of you dancing. You said so."
"He did. We were. I begged her to dance with me and she did. And he ruined it. He'll ruin her. I've ruined her," I moan and put my head into my hands.
"You've found her," he said quietly. "You'll explain. You'll apologise. You'll work it out."
"I hope so," I tell him because I really did hope I could.
BPOV
Alice called the land line at the apartment as I was getting ready to leave for my first class so I got to hear all about how the fun fair finished up and how the pack up and clean up went.
There were a few minor issues but by Sunday afternoon the property was clean and in the same state we'd found it in on the Friday before the fair.
Everyone had been paid, all the hired equipment returned and all the deposits repaid to Jasper.
I learned that Edward hadn't gone to the small gathering at the hotel after the fair was finished but that the rest of his family had. Emmett had thanked Jasper profusely and had asked for me to call him so he could thank me too.
That wasn't going to happen I thought to myself as I listened to Alice rabbit on about the little party.
As I was putting on a little mascara she filled me in on what the group was going to do today.
She and Jasper still had a few things to organise after the fun fair, and they'd need to oversee the packing of the shipping containers that were bringing our own equipment back to Sydney, and after that they'd been invited to lunch at Equity Steel.
Apparently a ceremony was being held to change the nameplates over to Cullen Enterprises and a little luncheon was taking place. Edward himself had invited them this morning.
I tried to sound happy for them. I tried to sound enthused. But I didn't want to hear about Edward Cullen, or anything to do with Cullen Enterprises, so I wrapped up the call as quickly as I could and wished Alice a happy day.
She wished me luck for my first classes and then I was out the door.
My first day of university as a mature age student went as well as could be expected. Hectic with a side order of fear thrown in. I'd enrolled at the same university where I'd started so at least the layout was familiar to me, but nothing else was.
I knew nobody in any of my classes and all the lecturers were new to me too. I was starting from scratch.
In a way that was good, I reasoned. A fresh start. I could reinvent myself and make new friends. New teachers meant new ways of learning and looking at things. Different timetables were a good change of pace for me and I needed a change. That was for sure.
I ate my homemade lunch outside, under some trees in the grounds, just like I always had when I'd taken classes here before. Only this time I sat alone.
It was nice to just sit there, soak up some sun and read over my class timetable and notes.
All around me groups were laughing and talking but I didn't feel lonely at all. I was happy to watch and listen. Of course there were hundreds of people milling about, most of them with phones glued to their ears or their fingers tapping away on screens as the generation was wont to do.
I hadn't turned my phone back on since leaving Gladstone and I guessed that if I did there would be a hundred messages on it, none of which I wanted to see or listen to.
So I sat there, under the tree, and watched the world go by.
It was as peaceful as I'd felt in a long time.
Back in school. Back to learning. Away from crazy clients and their crazy expectations and requests.
And away from Edward Cullen.
EPOV
My Saturday night had been horrible, my Sunday excruciating and now Monday was becoming unbearable.
A party of sorts had happened in my parents hotel room, right next to mine, after the fun fair had finished and I'd had to listen to the laughter and chatter all night long.
There'd been no sleep for me and even without the gathering next door I'd never have found any anyway. I'd done my best to find some relief behind my eyelids but by four on the Sunday morning I was too wound up to keep trying.
Surprisingly Seth was up when I wandered out into the tiny living area. He was hunched over his laptop tying away furiously and only grunted as I joined him there.
I sipped my coffee while he typed knowing he'd share whatever it was he was doing once he'd finished. Turned out he was contacting as many press people as he could think of that either owed him favours or could be bullied. Not a single one of them could shed any light on who the journalist with the camera had been, or who had commissioned a piece about me. There just wasn't anything to know.
The search on the rental car turned up nothing either.
He'd paid cash for it and the booking was made under the name of a company that had nothing to do with the media. I recognised the name of it but had no clue why they would be paying for a journalist to hire a car. It made no sense.
By six we were both cranky, sleep deprived, starving and getting on each other's nerves as we paced and theorised and still came up empty.
By seven we were both showered, dressed, fed and ready to sit down with Emmett and go over the information we didn't have.
We met up in a cafe in the main street of Gladstone and sat there for three hours throwing ideas around and at the end we still only had theories, guesses and assumptions. Nothing concrete at all.
We met the rest of the family back at the hotel for the luncheon. I did my best to casually sound out both Alice and Jasper about the whereabouts of Isabella but neither of them took the bait. After I'd seen my parents and sister off on their return trip to Sydney I went to my temporary office to try to contact her again.
Still her phone went to voicemail. I'd left dozens of messages by then pleading with her to call me back so I could explain myself and what was likely to happen to her from here. But she never called.
By early Sunday evening Emmett had a few different drafts of responses to share with me so we sat, Seth, Emmett and myself, around the table in the conference room at the hotel and went through them.
I hated every single one of them but knew that each of them was necessary.
I got a little sleep Sunday night but woke up just as cranky on Monday morning as I had the day before. There was still no reply from Isabella and still nothing in the press as yet. I was in limbo and I hated it.
I just wanted to know what was coming my way, her way. I just needed something tangible to refute, or argue or even to admit. But there was nothing. No pictures, no stories and no mentions.
There wasn't even a piece about the fun fair, or even about Equity Steel.
There was just nothing and that was so frustrating because I knew that out there somewhere was a guy who was polishing his written piece and I desperately wanted it to just happen so I could respond.
Doing nothing wasn't my style and yet I'd been forced to do just that.
I was in the office when my employees began to trickle in so I got to watch them in their natural habitat for a little while before the serious business began. They were an interesting bunch, the guys I'd had that beer with late at the fun fair.
I might not have remembered which face went with which name but I came to learn very quickly that they'd been serious about which secretaries to avoid being alone with.
I was accosted in the coffee room by the first one who pressed herself up against me any chance she got as we moved around the tiny space.
The second one got me in the copy room and took every opportunity to push her breasts towards me as she showed me where the stationery was kept.
I thought I'd done pretty well making it clear I wasn't interested and was once again grateful that I'd appointed a permanent site manager from the Sydney office to run the place by proxy. And seeing as Sonia had breasts of her own she wouldn't have to carefully reject any of the secretaries.
By late afternoon I'd checked my phone a hundred times and still had no answer from Isabella. There was nothing already in the press and there was nothing being primed for release that Seth could find. Emmett was poised to go with one of three versions of our response the instant something did appear, but until it did we were sitting ducks.
My mother called me just before I was due to head back in to restart a meeting and I'd hoped that she was calling to tell me something had appeared in a paper somewhere, but she wasn't. She was just calling to remind me about an aunt's birthday the next weekend.
It had been the very first time in my life where I hoped my mother was calling me with bad news. Or to berate me for being irresponsible, or that a horrible article had been written about me. But she wasn't and I was left feeling even more frustrated than before.
The meeting restarted without me knowing a thing about what was coming.
BPOV
When my classes were done for the day I settled at home with a pizza and my homework and decided to brave turning my phone back on. I needed to see that Jasper and Alice, and the others too of course, had made it back to Sydney safely.
I held in the start button and then set it on the dining room table, knowing it was likely to vibrate and ring its head off for a little while. I wasn't wrong.
Thirty two text messages from Edward. Nine from Emmett. Four from some guy named Seth who I didn't know and had no clue how he'd gotten my number. One from Esme Cullen, one from Rose McCarty and one from Alice.
I deleted all of them bar the one from my soon to be sister and law and read that they'd arrived safely, if a little late, the night before.
And then I dealt with the voicemail messages.
Thirteen from Edward, deleted. Four from Emmett, deleted. Two from Lauren which turned out to be just her bitching about the long hours and the second one to remind me that she was due for a pay review. Neither of those things were my problem any longer so I deleted those too.
Oddly I had just one voicemail deposit from a number I didn't recognise. It wasn't a blocked number but I didn't know it either. That one I listened to. I soon wished I hadn't.
'This is a message for Isabella Swan. I'm writing an article in which you feature and would like to have you comment on record before I go to print. Please return this call at your earliest convenience,' was the message.
I set the phone back down on the dining room table and stared at it while I decided what to do. An article? About me? Or at the very least featuring me, so it was more than likely about the fun fair and the caller was probably one of the journalists that had been turned away time and time again on the day. I hit delete and didn't give it another thought.
Until Tuesday morning when I was forced to give it some thought. Serious thought as it turned out.
The first calls started at five in the morning. I was sound asleep and my phone ringing beside me on the nightstand shook me awake far earlier than I'd have liked. It ringing that loudly, and right there beside my ear, made me jump awake in somewhat of a shitty mood.
"What?" I barked into it.
"Would you like to comment?" came a deep voice I didn't know.
"If that's you Jasper piss off," I croaked into the handset and pressed end call.
It rang again almost immediately and when I answered I was again asked if I wanted to comment.
"ON WHAT?" I shouted this time.
I didn't get a chance to hang up because the call ended from the callers end. Weird.
The third time it rang I just said hello, too tired still to bother with games and with not enough energy to bother being cranky.
"Isabella Swan?" the caller asked and when I said 'that's right' I was asked if I cared to comment again.
"Look, I don't know what it is I'm supposed to comment about," I said snarkily.
"You haven't seen it yet?" the caller asked.
"Obviously not," I barked, my cranky coming back to me.
"Sydney Morning Herald, front page. I'll call back in twenty minutes."
Then the line went dead.
It took me a few minutes to digest what I'd been told and then my brain decided to wake up and I understood. The voicemail message the night before had said there was an article being written with me. It had obviously been printed and appeared in today's paper. Other journalists were calling to ask me for comment. Right.
I didn't subscribe to the actual paper version of the newspaper anymore. Nobody did really. So I went to the app on my phone and hoped the article would be available online.
The last caller had said it was on the front page of the actual paper so of course an excerpt of it was online.
I wished it wasn't.
The headline was enough for my stomach to drop and my blood pressure to shoot up.
The first few lines of the actual article made me feel sick.
If this was just an excerpt then the whole article was going to be horrifying.
EPOV
I was woken abruptly at five on Tuesday morning by a pissed off Seth.
We'd only flown home to Sydney at midnight the night before so we were both sleep deprived and cranky. Seth's crankiness wasn't all about his lack of sleep though. Pretty soon mine wasn't either.
He threw the morning's newspaper onto my bed and told me to read the front page.
The look on his face told me just how bad the story was. I didn't need to read it to know that life as I knew it had changed and I didn't need to read the whole article to see which of us they'd chosen as the target. They'd run with both.
The headline was offensive. 'CULLEN SCORES!' it said in big, thick black lettering.
To accompany the headline was a picture of Isabella and I dancing, her face was tilted up to mine and I was smiling down at her in what could only, and was, described as adoringly. I studied the picture for a long, long time and even I began to see what the editor had seen.
We looked content. Happy. Lost in a world of our own making where nobody and nothing could disturb us while we were so caught up in each other.
The huge ball of exploding fireworks above our heads was obviously photoshopped and not because it had been done badly, because it hadn't. But I knew that while we'd been dancing the fireworks hadn't begun yet. It was for drama's sake and unfortunately they'd done a great job.
We looked like we were passionately involved and the fireworks were a manifestation of just how involved we were.
Fuck.
"Get a hold of Emmett," I told a hovering Seth who was still standing beside my bed after having shown me the paper. "I want the whole public relations team in my office in half an hour. Anyone who's late is no longer employed," I spat as he retreated.
I reached for my phone and dialled Isabella's number again. If she'd seen it she'd answer me this time, I was sure.
When I got a busy signal I was actually pleased. If her line was busy it meant she'd turned her phone back on. My elation was short lived. If she had her phone switched on and the line was busy I would wager she was already being bothered by journalists.
Fuck.
I wasn't going to be bothered by phone. Not my personal cell phone line anyway. Nobody but the family had it. It was a testament to how late my family slept of a morning that one, or all of them I supposed, hadn't called me yet. They would.
My business cell phone lay silent on the bedside cabinet but I knew it wouldn't be long before that began to ring its head off too. I put it on vibrate only and used my personal one to call my lawyer.
The call went to voicemail and I requested an audience with him at his earliest convenience. If he wasn't up, and he hadn't read the papers yet, he wouldn't know what for. If he was, and he had, he'd be in my office before lunch. Caius Volturi was a mean, hostile son of a bitch and he was the best lawyer I'd ever had. We liked each other very much and I knew that if there was some way to shut the journalist up he'd know of it.
On my way to the shower I called my secretary Kate. I apologised for the early call and asked that she be in the office as soon as she could. Nothing was too much trouble for Kate and that's why I paid her a fortune to do my bidding. She was going to really earn her keep in the next few days.
I took the quickest shower I could. Shaved more carefully than normal and then dressed in a brand new Dior suit and tie. I put my favourite business shirt on and slipped into my custom made leather shoes. I wore grandfathers cufflinks because they made me feel powerful and more in control and then I went out onto the balcony and sucked the life out of a cigarette.
I'd smoked more in the prior four days than I had in the prior four months and its calming effect was no longer working.
It might be five thirty in the morning but my brain wanted a drink.
I settled for coffee in a travel mug that I could drink in the car and then I called for Seth.
He insisted he drive citing my shaking hands and bad temper. I was about to reply with something sarcastic when he reminded me that if I had an accident or indulged in a spot of road rage today it would fuel the already building flames. I agreed so shut my mouth and got into the passenger side of my car.
As we drove Seth filled me in on where we were. He'd called the office building and had it in lockdown. He'd called in two extra men to shadow me, one each for my mother, father, sister and one for Emmett.
He asked if I wanted a man on Isabella and when I said that I did he made a call on hands free and within three blocks it was set up.
While he drove I called Jasper Swan's number and left a message for him to call me as soon as he could.
Next I called the daughter of the current Chancellor of the University of Sydney and left a message with her service to return my call at any time. Belinda and I had been friends for a decade and she had gone through Engineering school with me back in the day. Her mother had just been appointed as Chancellor and if there was a way to save Isabella's chance to finish her degree in peace those two ladies would know how to achieve it.
Until I read it in the paper this morning I'd had no idea Isabella was a student. I'd assumed that she was moving on from her brothers company to take a position at another, similar firm. I'd assumed a lot of things and most of them had been wrong.
Including the fact that she was engaged.
Fuck.
Her phone was once again busy when I tried calling it and as we pulled up at the office I told Seth to keep trying while I went into my first meeting.
BPOV
By six I'd had my father on the phone and it was safe to say that he was not amused. He read the paper from cover to cover every day but he wouldn't have needed to because my picture, and a very inaccurate account of my life was 'right there, on the front page, Isabella'.
I placated him as best I could and called Jasper. Alice answered and even though they had no idea what I was in a rage about they agreed to come over as soon as they were up and moving. I begged her to stop on her way and buy the paper and she promised she would.
They'd sure know what I was so upset about by the time they got to my place.
Then I turned my phone off again.
If anyone else wanted to speak to me they'd have to send up a smoke signal, or send me an owl.
Nobody had knocked on my door yet but I figured if a journalist could find out enough about me to build that story around he'd have no problem finding my address. So I double bolted the door, made a cup of coffee and sat in my apartment with the lights off and the ringer on the landline turned off and waited for my brother to come.
Alice burst through the door the instant I turned the locks and she had me in a crushing hug half a second later. It wasn't often that she was lost for words but this was one of them. She mouthed what I thought was motherfucker quite a few times, and I heard her mutter the name Cullen a few times under her breath too, but other than that she was just far too angry to be of any use to me.
My brother on the other hand was disturbingly calm.
He came into my apartment armed with the paper, take away coffee and his address book. He sat me down at the kitchen table and spread out the newspaper. He made me read him the article while he took notes on a piece of paper. When I was finished he told me to go and shower and get dressed into something business professional.
When I came back out of my bedroom twenty minutes later he was armed with a list of people we would call and wouldn't you know it? The top name on the top of the first list was Edward Cullen.
EPOV
Kate was at her desk and at the ready when I arrived. I handed her the list of people I needed to see and in which order they should be escorted in to see me in. I gave her another list of the calls I was waiting for and another list of calls I wouldn't accept that day.
I gave her instructions to find the individual members of my family and once she had to put their calls through to me no matter who I was meeting with at the time.
I told her that her main priority was to locate any member of the Swan family she could and to patch that call through the instant she had.
Emmett was waiting in my office when I got in there. He gave me one minute to put my briefcase down and another to plug my phone into its charger and then he pounced.
"Tell me the real story," he demanded, so I did. "Tell me you didn't know she was engaged," he insisted, so I did. "Was I sent to Swan Catering because you're fucking Bella Swan?" he asked and after I'd called him a few choice names I informed him that I didn't send him anywhere, that it was our mother who had arranged for him to meet with Isabella and then I thanked him to keep his value judgements separate from the business at hand.
"Have you spoken to her since this article hit the press?" he asked next.
"She won't take my calls and no, I haven't spoken to her. Not since she ran off the night of the fun fair."
"Well, at least we've got that going for us," he hissed. "You don't speak to her," he said, pointing his finger across the desk at me. "You don't speak to her. You don't see her. You don't be seen with her. Or her brother. Or anyone else from Swan Catering for that matter. You don't email her. You don't send her flowers, you don't do squat," he barked. "I've already had Jacob Black's personal lawyer on the phone this morning and they're talking libel action so you keep it in your fucking pants and your big mouth shut until I tell you otherwise. We clear, bro?"
I sat back in my chair and tried to rein in my temper as best I could before I answered. Emmett was good at his job but he wasn't a lawyer – though he'd have made a great one – and he was once again making personal judgements rather than sticking to business.
"Firstly you don't get to tell me who to date. Secondly it never came out of my pants. And third if she deems to return the three hundred voice messages I've left for her I will speak to her, Emmett. It's my fault this has happened and I intend to apologise to her in person the first chance she lets me. If you can't deal with that hand your notes to someone else and step away from this."
He didn't look quite as shocked as I expected him to be. Instead he leaned forward and put his elbows on the edge of the desk. "You like her," he said simply. "You like her and because you like her you want to protect her," he grinned.
"I liked her," I tell him. "Past tense now I know she's engaged."
"You can't turn that shit off that fast," he chuckled and then sat back in his chair. "Besides, you said date. You never say date. You never date. And Jake Black's a punk and I reckon you can take him. Knock him on his ass and steal her."
"Not going to happen," I tell him firmly even though I too thought Jake Black was a punk. "Now can we be serious?"
"I am being serious," he insisted. "I've never seen her with Black. I've haven't heard her name used in conjunction with his for years. Your mom never said she was seeing anyone. I smell a rat."
Emmett used the word conjunction so I knew he had his work hat on and not the one made of meat so I didn't rib him about it. And the more I thought about it the more I thought I might actually agree with him.
"When I asked her to dance, that was when she should've said she was seeing someone? Right?" I asked more so I could get the thought out than to be heard.
"Right," Emmett said anyway.
"But then I did say if she danced with me just once I'd leave her alone. So maybe she is still seeing Black and I gave her a decent out," I mused.
"But, seeing him and being engaged to him are two different things," he pointed out. "I mean, if she was just casually dating the guy then one dance with you is fine. But if like the article says she's engaged to him, she should've told you, or just not accepted."
"I agree," I said firmly. "And I held her. I mean really held her. Not just friendly held her either," I said out loud before I could help it. But the damage was done. I'd tipped my hand.
"You do like her," he grinned.
"She's a nice girl," I countered hoping he'd drop it.
"She is. But you like like her. You do want to date her. You do want to dance with her. You want her," he said as though the idea was just dawning on him that I might be capable of actually liking someone romantically.
"That's beside the point now," I tell him. "If she's engaged to Black, or even dating him or anyone else, I can't see her again. But I will talk to her if she calls," I add just to reiterate my earlier point.
"So talk to her," he shrugged but he was also grinning, dimples and all and I hated those dimples. "Talk to her. Find out from her if she's dating him, or engaged to him, and if she's not you take your shot."
"There'll be no shot," I mumbled. "Not now I've ruined her."
"Remains to be seen," he said matter of factly. "If it turns out she's not engaged to him, or even dating him, then we have to find out where that information came from. Someone somewhere is blabbing and not necessarily someone from her side. Let me call the team up here and we'll see what's what."
I gave him the go ahead and checked in with Kate while I waited for them to arrive.
She'd found both my parents. My mother would come to the office at midday to see me. MY father was in surgery but would call when he could. Caius Volturi had called and confirmed he would arrive mid morning. Jasper Swan had called, which made my heart leap, to arrange a time that we could meet. As soon as Kate told him I was waiting for his call he insisted he not be put through and instead arranged to meet me at five thirty this evening at his place of residence. I'd have to live with that it seemed.
Seth had called in and I was asked to return his call.
Rose had called in and said to tell me 'chin up'.
I thanked Kate, asked her to keep trying to call Belinda and then I asked her to order lunch in for thirty people to be delivered at one.
Seth answered on the first ring once I was back in my office alone.
"I've got the journo. He's working freelance for a third party with the provision to sell anything he writes about either you or Swan to the highest bidder. The pictures, except for the one printed, were handed over to the buyer. But there's someone in the middle pulling his strings," he told me.
"I don't get it," I said honestly, trying to understand. "The Herald isn't who commissioned the piece?"
"No, they aren't," he said. "At its simplest there is someone out there who is paying this piece of shit to find information about either you or Bella Swan. That person is only paying him to dig it up. Once he was paid for the information he was free to hump it around and The Herald was the highest bidder so he sold it on. Whoever paid him to find it wanted it for themselves and doesn't care that it's now in print."
"Who the fuck would pay for the information and then let the digger sell it on?" I shouted into the handset.
"I'm working on that bit, kid. I'll check in in an hour."
The line went dead and I was left to contemplate just who the target here was. Me or Isabella Swan?
If it was me I had a lot of apologising to do.
If it was her I'd strangle her with my own bare hands, after I'd apologised first of course.
BPOV
Jakes secretary led us into his office with the offer of tea, coffee or water. We declined it all and sat in silence while we waited for him to grace us with his presence.
Always one to display his own self importance his office walls were lined with pictures of him with the great and the good. The great and the good according to Jacob Black though, of course.
He was a lawyer who specialised in environmental law. That in and of itself was fine. Nobody wanted huge corporations like Exxon to get away with destroying entire coastlines after all. But Jake had taken his environmental conscience one step further by also being the head of, and the spokesperson for, an environmental action group called the National Conservation League.
His work as a lawyer got him good public exposure but it was when speaking for the League that he got his head on the most news segments per week. I agreed with a lot of his opinions concerning the environment, it was hard not to because he was essentially trying to protect the planet I lived on, but when he began to use his platform as spokesman to attack the mining and natural resources companies for doing nothing wrong but simply because he could I began to see him for what he really was.
A media whore.
He was more dedicated to his personal fame than he was to the environmental causes he was championing; he was just hiding that behind his law degree.
Nothing was more important to Jake than Jake. Not me, not the environment, not the planet.
As his personal profile began to rise so did his temper and his sense of self importance and entitlement. Everyone around him was there to do his bidding, according to him. Everyone around him had to acknowledge how great he was and anyone who didn't was branded 'one of them'. By which he meant someone who didn't care for either environmental causes or their associated politics.
Once branded there was no redeeming yourself in Jake's eyes. You were his enemy and that was that. He'd alienated his own brother because of it and he'd never blinked an eyelash as he'd done it.
His gleaming white teeth were on show throughout our entire meeting. He assured me, all the while smiling widely, that he hadn't given any interview to any journalist about anything personal. He swore black and blue that he hadn't told a soul that we were still engaged or that we were even still dating. According to Jake he'd never been asked for comment regarding me, or Edward Cullen, and that if he had he would've declined to do so anyway.
He stood to gain nothing by bad mouthing me even though he stood to gain plenty by having a crack at Edward in the press.
Edward Cullen, and that meant Cullen Enterprises, were in Jakes eyes directly responsible for raping the planet for profit. But again he swore that he hadn't given any information or an interview about anything to do with either Edward himself or his companies.
I came away believing him.
Jake did nothing without having an ulterior motive all planned out.
There really was nothing to gain by his, or my, personal acquaintance being outed publically even if by doing so it scored a direct hit on Edward Cullen.
Jake valued nothing above his own reputation so I believed him. Jasper did too. There just wasn't any reason that we could see for Jake to lie.
Besides, his left eye always twitched when he was lying and it just hadn't.
He might be an asshole with a biodegradable stick up his ass but he wouldn't sell me out if there was nothing riding on it for him.
Our next stop was to a lawyer. Neither of us had any experience with lawyers because neither of us had ever had cause to use one. Jasper said he'd already made an appointment to see one so I followed his lead.
The nameplate on the door read Aro Vasilii and just the name made me uneasy. It sounded like a mob bosses name.
The decor inside didn't do much to dissuade me from the feeling either. Lots of black leather sofas, black lacquered end tables and a receptionist who Jake would probably like to charge with ozone degradation judging by the amount of hairspray that was keeping her bouffant aloft.
Jasper gave our names and she asked us to take a seat. I felt as though I was back at high school sitting outside the principal's office after having been caught smoking behind the toilet block.
They say that first impressions stick and my first impression of Aro Vasilii was actually a sticky one.
He stood no more than five feet seven inches tall and wore a plain black suit with a plain black shirt and you guessed it, a plain black skinny tie. The sticky reference was to his hair. Brylcreem had gone out in the seventies but Aro hadn't gotten the memo.
After the introductions Jasper put the newspaper on the desk and spelled out our problem.
There was a lot of talk about libel suits and defamation of character but I was still stuck way back on an earlier issue. How to combat what had already happened didn't bother me as much as working out who had spilled their guts about me. That wasn't something a lawyer was going to be able to sort out for me so I only listened with one ear.
On top of that I had to work out where to go from here personally. Professionally I was screwed. Anyone who recognised my face from the picture or my name in an application would blacklist me now. If the university didn't already know they soon would once the gossip began and then I'd have to front the governance group and explain myself. There was no denying it was me in the picture and as for the story that went with it it was going to be next to impossible to disprove.
I was dancing with Edward Cullen. I was technically an employee of his at the time if only just as a subcontractor. I had at one time been engaged to Jacob Black. None of that was a lie and that was what Jasper was explaining to Mr Vasilii while I was thinking about asking how to legally change my name or move states.
The whole meeting was a waste of time, just as I'd thought it was going to be from the off.
Nothing that had been said was technically a lie and as such no lawsuit could be brought against either the journalist who wrote it or the newspaper that printed it, Mr Vasilii just confirmed it.
He said he might be able to make a defamation suit stick but it would cost a fortune and only drag out the whole thing for much longer than if we said nothing and let it die a natural death.
Jasper wasn't satisfied with that but I didn't see anything else we could do and I dragged him out of the meeting before he had me signed up to pay the guy a portion of my wages for the next hundred years to mount a lawsuit I had no hope of winning anyway.
We drove back to his house and I sat and nursed a cup of coffee while I tried to decide what I was going to do next.
EPOV
Emmett's teams had put together some very well worded responses but I couldn't give the go ahead for any of them to be released to the press until I'd spoken to Isabella. That didn't sit well with Emmett or with his staff but I insisted and seeing as I was the one who paid their wages the chuntering didn't last long.
I hated pulling rank but the article had been about me and Isabella and until she told me personally what she wanted to do about it I would not release a single word from the office to any paper or journalist.
The meeting ended when Kate buzzed to tell me she had Belinda Powell on the line. I waited until the last straggler had gone and then I took up the handset.
"Belinda, thank you so much for returning my call."
"Hello, Edward. I think I can guess why you called."
"You've read it," I sighed and when she admitted that she had I sighed again.
"Is any of it true?" she asked and I was grateful that she did ask instead of just assuming it was.
"Some of it, yes. She was subcontracted to work for Cullen Enterprises at the time we were photographed dancing together, that's about all the truth there is in the story."
"Is she engaged to Jake Black and is that the same Jake Black that opposes every move you make?" she asked cannily.
"One and the same I'm afraid and to be honest I don't know yet whether she ever was or currently is engaged to him. I'd only met her that day and I danced with her for maybe five minutes."
"I see," she said calmly and I got the impression she was taking notes as I spoke. "I checked with my mother and she is currently enrolled on the, wait a second while I check..." I heard more paper shuffling. "She's enrolled in the Accountancy school and only resumed classes yesterday after a one year deferment and a four year absence. Mom says she can't see any reason that her enrolment might be revoked. Neither of you did anything illegal and even if she is engaged to Black there is nothing the university can say or do about her being seen dancing with someone else. It's all fairly innocuous, Edward. Am I missing something?" she asked.
I was relieved to hear the universities stance on the issue and was happy that I'd be able to tell Isabella that her place in her course was secure.
"I'm still missing pieces of the bigger picture too, Belinda," I admitted. "So far it looks as though a journalist was paid by a third party to find information about either me or Miss Swan. He handed the information he had to whoever paid him and was told he was free to sell it for print."
"Pretty shady," she replied. "And you don't know yet if it's about you or this girl?"
"Not yet," I told her.
"Apart from possibly being engaged to a jerk like Black what else has she got to hide?"
"I just don't know," I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.
"Well, as far as governance at the university is concerned she's done nothing to bring the name of the university into disrepute so she has no case to answer there. From a purely personal stand point I'm more concerned about you, Edward. As I'm reading it, to me, it makes more sense that it's about you. Someone with a grudge. Someone you beat to a buy maybe? A spurned lover?" she giggled knowing full well I hadn't had a lover in years and the ones I had had over the years were all still friends of mine.
"I don't know yet but I will find out. Thank your mother for me next time you two speak and thanks for calling me back Belinda, I really appreciate it."
"Huh, don't mention it. I'll see you at the club on Friday night, we'll talk more then okay?" she asked and I agreed that I'd be at the usual place at the usual time. "Until then keep quiet is my advice. Don't feed it. Let it die on its own."
"I hope I can," I told her. "I'll see you Friday, my next meeting has arrived."
"Bye, Edward. And good luck."
Caius Volturi arrived on time and with his transcriptionist in tow. Our meeting was brief because I couldn't give him any instructions yet. Not until I'd talked to Isabella personally.
I outlined what was correct in the story and made him aware of what was not. He gave me the same advice I'd heard from everyone else. Say nothing until you know who paid for the information. If anything came to light that made that aspect of it a criminal act I should call him immediately. Until then don't respond to requests for interviews, try not to be seen with Miss Swan until the question of her relationship availability was clear and keep my mouth shut otherwise.
As usual he told me he'd bill me for the consult and I sent him on his way.
I went into the conference room and tried to eat a sandwich while I listened to Emmett's teams theorise.
I had five hours to wait until I could meet with Jasper and I had to hope that Isabella herself would be at his residence.
BPOV
I spent the afternoon watching my phone vibrate its way across Jasper's dining room table. Call after call from private, blocked or unknown numbers. Email after email came in through his company website and every single one of them was from a journalist asking for my comment.
Angela had spent most of her day fielding calls at the office and my apartment was now being staked out by a row of journalists and photographers all eager to get a picture or a comment from me.
Alice had told me about them because she had to drive right by my apartment block to go to and come back from the office. She'd called as soon as she got there to tell me they were there and she told me they were still there when she came back again at the end of the day.
So far the only thing I could be happy about was that I hadn't been called in to explain myself to the Chancellor at the university. But even that I believed was only a matter of time.
I hadn't intended to be at Jasper's when Edward arrived for their meeting but I couldn't go home now. I was stuck there until the press moved on.
And so I spent my time making lists about who would want to divulge information about my private life to a journalist and why.
It was a pretty short list. In fact it only had one name on it. Jacob Black. And I didn't really, truly believe it had been him that had shopped me.
A/N: Thank you for reading.
Please review.