Say What?

"I'm surprised you asked me out tonight," Bella said while unfolding the silk napkin onto her lap. Edward had taken her out to a fancy restaurant she'd been dying to try. It over looked the lake and they had an awesome view sitting right by the large windows over looking the terrace.

"I enjoy your company," Edward answered as if that fact explained everything. Bella's heart fell for a moment, not liking the way he said it so flatly. Perhaps it was a friendship he sought, not any type of romantic endeavor. It would make sense, she mused. He was far too sophisticated and wealthy for someone one as mundane as an under 200k realtor.

In fact, now that Bella took a moment to notice, the entire place seemed filled with the higher crust of the upper class. Women, with designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and plastic bodies donned the arm of every gentleman. Rolex watches glinted off wrists, and a large amount of money bought the richest Champaign. Bella cleared her throat, returning her attention back to her company.

"Well, I enjoy yours as well." She offered him a small curve of her lips that she tried to pass as a grin, but her mind was too filled with disappointment to be anything but forced.

Edward watched her for a moment, studying her. The waiter came to the table, offering the house wine for sample. Bella watched Edward check the lable, shook his head in disapproval, and then a smooth voice, ordered something he felt more palatable.

Once he was done, he returned his gaze back onto Bella. He watched her for a moment, his eyes grazing her body in obvious assessment. She couldn't tell what he was doing except taking her inventory, and she didn't particularly like the feeling.

"Do you recommend anything from the menu?" Bella asked, pulling the single-paged menu in front of her face like a shield.

"Why do you feel intimidated when a man looks at you?" His question caught her off guard, and she placed her menu down on the table with a soft thud.

"What do you mean?"

"That blush," he gestured toward her reddened face, "it comes every time I give you a compliment or look at you like I want to devour you." Bella's blush deepened at that. "Why do you feel so unworthy of a man's attentions? Surely you've been told you are beautiful before."

"Well, yes . . ." Bella answered slowly, trying her hardest to work a coherent thought passed the word 'devour.' "Mike would tell me that I was beautiful, but it usually followed some kind of request for something he knew I'd be reluctant to give."

The fact that she'd been so frank about something that could potentially be a bit personal surprised Bella a bit. She cringed internally, wondering if he'd think she meant a sexual favor. It didn't matter that it had been what Mike was after at the time, she just didn't want Edward to see her in that light.

"Your Mike was a fool," Edward said in a deep tone, and Bella could just make out the tail end of a growl to his words.

"Yes, he was. And he isn't mine anymore, so it's a mute point."

"Then why do you let his idiocy mark your reactions?'

"What do you mean?'

"You shy away from my compliments," Edward stated, gesturing toward her attire like her beauty was a mere fact of nature. The waiter reappeared with the bottle of wine Edward had requested, and poured them both a goblet full. Once he left, and a nice swallow of wine coated Bella's tongue, she rose her head to answer his inquiry.

"I know what men are fishing for when they give women like me a compliment," she stated boldly, her voice without inflection.

"Explain," Edward demanded his expression comically confounded.

Bella laughed. "I can see the type of women surrounding you." She glanced around the room pointedly, eyeing the low cut gowns and perfectly sculpted chests of the surrounding female companions. "I don't fit into that category. I'm not a ten, as they say. I settle somewhere around the six range, and in my experience, when a man lavishes a six with outlandish compliments, all he's looking for is a quick lay."

Bella grabbed her wine goblet and took another drink, wishing she could drink enough to make the discomfort of the situation morph into something semi-amusing. It wasn't working, however. The wine sat uneasy in her stomach. Afraid of the silence and what it could mean, she began glancing around the room, her eyes touching everything but the man beside her.

So I would've had this up earlier, but the damn dryer keeps shutting off on its own. Argh! Next chap up in a bit. Third beer is down the gullet ;)