A/N:

Seems that our dear Edward is in a bit of a pickle, eh?

I wonder why Bella is so pissed at him...let's here from her and find out, shall we?

Our beta Sweek539 is a goddess and we love her.

We also love giada-marsielle who made us a totally fuckawesome banner.

As always, we don't own Twilight. It sure as hell owns my ass though.

Chapter 3 (BPOV)

I paced nervously, my heels clicking repeatedly across the tile floor of my office. I clutched my cell phone in my hand, so tightly that I was afraid I would crush it with the force of my fingers. I was toying with the idea of chucking it out the window, but my heart was telling me to just hit the green call button that was sticking out like a sore thumb. Had it ALWAYS been so big? Less than 48 hours ago my world was flipped completely upside down, and I couldn't decide if that fact was good or bad. Never in a billion years would I have guessed that I would run into Edward Cullen in New York City. When he turned around on Saturday night, and I laid eyes on him, it felt like somebody kicked me in the chest. He was...gorgeous. I remembered him being good-looking, but the guy that stood before me was unbelievably and sinfully beautiful. So many emotions flooded my body within that short period of time; elation, anger, disbelief, sadness. There were probably a million more, but I focused on keeping a cool, professional appearance in front of Angela. After I told him I'd call him to set up a time to meet, I walked back to my table in a daze. Emmett cast worried glances at me for the rest of the night, and as soon as we left and got out into the night air, I lost it. I gripped onto Em like a lifeline as he drove us back to my apartment, and didn't let go until I was settled on my couch.

"Bella? You need to tell me what's wrong. I can't fix it if I don't know." he said, dropping to his knees in front of me, wiping the tears off my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

"Do you...remember...Edward?" I said through my sniffles.

Emmett stood and sat on the couch beside me. "Yeah, you guys were really close way back, right? What about him?"

I sighed, trying to hold onto whatever composure I had left, but I failed and the tears continued to flow. "Well it turns out, that Edward OWNS Masen's, and Angela wants me to interview him. We were best friends, Emmett! Best friends, and I haven't seen or heard from him for an entire year!! He stopped calling; stopped coming to visit. What did I do wrong?? What did I do to make him cast me aside and ignore me??"

Emmett pulled me into a hug, and I slowly felt my sadness dissolve into anger as I quickly stood up and started pacing the living room.

"What gives him the right to just pretend like our friendship hardly even existed? Is he too good for me now?? Just because he's some big shot restaurant owner, he thinks he can just AVOID me? I'll show him..." The last sentence came out in a shaky breath, and I wrapped my arms around myself.

I saw Em stand up and start walking toward me, but I stopped him. "Please, Em, I know you want to help, but I don't think you can. I just need to be alone right now. I'll call you tomorrow."

He nodded and quietly left my apartment while I crawled into my bed, still in my dress, and cried myself to sleep.

I was brought back to the present by someone calling my name.

"Bella?? Hello? Earth to Bella!"

I turned to see Angela standing in my doorway.

"There you are," she laughed "Where did you disappear to? Have you scheduled your interview with Edward Cullen yet?"

I flinched at the sound of his name and hoped she wouldn't notice. I waved my phone in the air. "I was actually just about to call him."

"Good. Try to set up something soon, so we can hopefully get your review in the column on Friday. I've got to run, but we'll catch up later."

She turned and walked out of my office, and I resumed my pacing.

Come on Bella. You can do this. You're a professional. Don't let that infuriatingly gorgeous man get to you. Who cares if you were friends for over 16 years?

In a brief rush of confidence, I scrolled through my address book until I found his name, and hit send.

The phone rang only once before I heard his voice on the other end.

"Hey, Bella," he said.

"Edward, hi, umm..." I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. His liquidy-satin voice was not going to get the best of me. "I was just calling to find out when I could schedule that interview with you."

"Oh! Right! I'm free tomorrow morning if that's good for you. I'm completely at your mercy."

Jesus. Did he have to say THAT? With that voice?? I'm trying to be angry here!

I swallowed hard. "Yeah, tomorrow's fine. I'll meet you at the Starbucks on 58th and Columbus Circle at 9:30 a.m. See you then."

I quickly hung up before he could speak another word. It was rude, and quite honestly, totally unprofessional, but my emotions had been in such a state of shock as of late. I didn't want to stay on the phone any longer than necessary just in case I said something I would completely regret. I sunk down onto my chair, and put my head in my hands. Hearing my phone vibrate on my desk, my head shot up in a panic, thinking that it was Edward calling me back to tell me how big of a bitch I was.

Instead, I had a text message.

B- Em told me what happened. Want to go to lunch today? -Ro

I smiled. That woman was a saint.

R- I'd LOVE to. Need to get some fresh air. Grab some salads and meet in Central Park? -B

B- Sounds great. I'll get them. You just meet me by the boathouse at noon. Love you. -Ro

Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only 10:00, so I hopped on my computer to do a search of upcoming events in the city that might be interesting to attend. During the summer months, I typically got busier; going to concerts in the park and outdoor festivals rather than things like restaurant openings and art galleries. Summertime in the city was too beautiful to spend indoors, especially at night. As much as I missed being out of the big city and under the stars, there was something about the city lights at night that were magical to me. My favorite thing to do was watch movies in Central Park at night. Being surrounded by the city on all sides, curled up on a blanket on the lawn, made me feel relaxed after a long day at work. Rose and I went to quite a few of them during my first summer in the city.

After I checked out some sites, marked my calendar for a few events, and answered the e-mails that were clogging up my inbox, I leaned back in my chair, looking out the window. My brain started running away from me again; I wondered how the interview with Edward was going to go. I knew that it was going to be difficult to keep it purely professional, and extremely difficult to face him again. Part of me wanted to know why he stopped calling me.

Was it because he had a girlfriend? Maybe he's married, or engaged. Maybe he grew tired of me. Maybe he just didn't have any time. People lose contact because they don't have any time, right?

I scoffed at my internal conversation. People that were as close as Edward and I were just don't lose contact because they're busy. Right?

*****

I sat, perched on a bench by the boathouse in Central Park, scrolling through e-mails on my blackberry, when I heard heels clicking across the pavement. I looked up and smiled when I saw Rose, walking towards me, bags in her hand, and her giant Jackie O. sunglasses perched on her face.

"Thanks for keeping me waiting, bitch." I said, lightheartedly, as she plopped down on the bench next to me with a sigh. "Rough day?"

She pushed her hair off her face with her sunglasses and glared at me. "Yes, very rough. Graphics keeps messing up my covers, and the little bitchface princess that works down there is giving me lip because I keep sending them back."

Her face turned sympathetic as she handed me my salad. "How are you? Em told me what happened on Saturday. He's all distraught...thinks he should go down there and kick Edward's ass."

I scowled. "He'll do nothing of the sort. I don't know, Rose. I've always missed him, how could I not? We were friends for, well, forever. I don't know why he stopped calling me, but I guess it's partly my fault, too. I could have called him; e-mailed him. When I saw him over the weekend, all of the emotions I had been suppressing just came rolling out. Just looking at him once made me miss everything about him. I remembered every memory we had together. It was bittersweet; part of me wanted to launch myself at him, and not let him go, and the other part wanted to smack him for every phone call that he's denied me."

She frowned. "So what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?"

My face twisted up in a grimace. "Tomorrow. I called him this morning, and we set up an interview. We're meeting at Starbucks. God, Rose, I don't know what I'm going to do. I need to remain professional, but I know seeing him tomorrow is going to either make me break down more, or make me want to throw myself at him again."

She threw her hand up. "WHOA. Back the truck up! Throw yourself at him? I thought you guys were just friends?"

I looked down, picking at my nails. "Well, back when we were growing up, he was always good-looking, you know, but we were best friends, so I never thought of him like that. But Rose, when I saw him at Masen's," I paused and sighed. "Oh god, it was like I was seeing him for the first time. He was so fucking beautiful."

Rose chuckled from her spot beside me and I snapped my head in her direction. "What? What the hell could possibly be so funny?"

She took my hands in hers and said "Bella, honey, do you hear yourself? You've got it bad. Whether or not you'd like to admit it..."

"No way!" I yelled, cutting her off and pulling my hand out of her grasp. "That's absolutely ridiculous! First of all, I'm beyond angry with him for neglecting me for so long. Second, even if I weren't angry, we are far too close of friends for me to have ANY sort of romantic feelings for him. It'd almost be like being attracted to my brother!"

She patted me on the hand. "Alright, alright. Whatever you say, Bella. I'm willing to bet that you will be singing a different tune in a few months."

I scoffed at her, and stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork. We ate the rest of our lunches in silence, with her smirking at me, and me shooting death glares back at her.

I stood up, stretched, and threw away my trash. "I've gotta get back to the office. I need to compile my questions for the object of my affections." I said in a mocking tone.

"You mock me now, Ms. Swan," Rose said, standing up beside me. "But you watch, you'll realize that you are more into Edward than you'll care to admit. I promise you. Trust me, I know these things."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Sure, sure. I'll catch you later and I'll keep you updated."

I waved to her as I turned to make my way back to the office, Rosalie's revelation about Edward bouncing around in my skull. It was impossible. Well maybe not ENTIRELY impossible. I mean, after all, he was painfully beautiful. But seriously, me attracted to Edward? That would definitely be the weirdest thing ever.

No way. Not happening. DENIED!

The following morning, I stood in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear. I wanted to look professional, but not so much so that I would stand out. I wanted to show Edward that this interview was part of my job and I took it very seriously; that it wasn't a social get-together.

I finally decided on my grey waist jacket with a black camisole underneath, skinny jeans and my black suede boots. I also opted for my glasses instead of fiddling around with my contacts. I stuffed a notebook and my voice recorder into my messenger bag and after I locked up my apartment I stood in front of my door, nervous as hell, chanting a mantra in my head.

I'm a professional. I can do this. It's just Edward. It's no big deal.

No big deal.

Right. I think not hearing from your best friend for a year is kind of a big deal.

After what seemed like an eternity, and a brief urge to just cancel the interview completely, my legs finally found the strength to move and I made the walk to Starbucks. Why was I finding it so hard to face Edward? Shouldn't I have been elated that we'd finally reconnected after so long? These two questions repeated over and over in my mind as I walked. Once I reached Columbus Circle, and saw Starbucks looming in the distance, my heart started pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. I approached the door, and wrapped my hand around the door handle. I hesitated for a moment, but then took a deep breath, and walked through the door, mustering up as much confidence as I could.

My eyes scanned the room, looking for Edward, and found him sitting in the back corner, sitting in one of two plushy chairs that took up residence in the corner. He was dressed casually, a grey striped polo, loose fitting jeans and black Converse sneakers. He saw me approach and stood, a smile gracing his face.

"Hey Bella" he said, when I got within earshot. I smiled tentatively at him, and thrust my hand out for him to shake.

"Good Morning, Edward. Nice to see you again."

He grasped my hand, and tilted his head toward the counter. "Would you like something before we start? I was about to go order myself a coffee."

"Um, sure. How about a Grande Skinny Mocha latte?"

He grinned at me, and unclasped his hand from mine. "Coming right up. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back."

I sat down in one of the chairs, and got my notebook and recorder out of my bag, setting them on the small round table in front of me. I looked up at the counter and saw Edward smiling and chatting away happily with the barista behind the counter. Was he...flirting??

Wait, what? Why would I care if he was flirting? We're FRIENDS...nothing more.

I shook my head and sighed as Edward made his way back to the table.

"Everything alright?" he asked, handing me my coffee.

"Yep," I nodded, taking a sip. "Let's get started, shall we?"

I went to turn my recorder on, but Edward stopped me. "Wait," he said, putting his hand on mine. "Before we start, I want to apologize..."

"No," I said firmly, looking up at him. "Edward, not now. I'm here purely on business today. I don't want to discuss anything else."

He pulled his hand away, and I thought I saw him frown, but I couldn't let him break me down; no matter how much I wanted...needed...to hear him beg for forgiveness.

I regained my bearings, and turned on my tape recorder.

"Alright Edward, first question. What made you want to own your own resturaunt?" I asked, leaning forward a bit so that I could hear his answer clearly.

"Well," he said, leaning his arms on the table. "It wasn't really something I planned. I've always loved being in the kitchen, so I always knew I'd wind up in food service one way or another, but owning my own restaurant? I never thought it was in the cards for me, but after finishing my education at ICE, they offered me a teaching position. From there, everything just sort of fell into place. I couldn't be happier."

I jotted a few notes down into my notebook as Edward took a swig of his coffee. "Okay, now, are there any chefs out there that you particularly idolize, celebrity or otherwise?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, taking longer to answer than he had the first question. "I don't doubt the talent of any the chefs on TV these days, but it's really hard to understand them and get a sense of what they're really about when you only see them on screen for an hour, you know? I have, however, had the pleasure of meeting a select few. Quite honestly, it is my most personal and humble opinion that Gordon Ramsay should be at the top of everyone's list. To most people, I understand that he comes off as harsh and acidic, but it's because he is SO passionate about what he does, that he expects the same out of everyone in this profession. Especially if they ever want to be at his level. Meeting him was a real eye-opener."

Gordon Ramsay? Hell's Kitchen? Really?

I shook my head and chuckled as I scribbled more notes.

"What?" Edward asked, grinning.

My head shot up, unaware that he had caught me. "Oh, um, nothing," I said, clearing my throat. "Let's keep going. What made you decide to become a chef?"

Edward leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. "Bella, you know you could write this article without having to interview me, right? You know most, if not all, of the answers."

I sighed and pushed pause on the recorder. "Because, Edward, I have to do it. I'm trying to be completely professional about this right now, even though I want nothing more than to stand up and walk out of here. So, please, can we just get on with it?"

His smiled faded and he nodded. "Yeah, okay," he took another swig of his coffee and continued. "Entering the culinary world professionally wasn't really something I decided. It just sort of...happened. I knew it was something I was good at and what I loved to do, so it just seemed natural to me. If what I create in the kitchen makes people happy, why not do it all the time? I'm probably going to sound completely ridiculous if I say it was fate or destiny, but in a way I guess it was."

"What kind of food do you serve at Masen's?" I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the table.

"It's mostly Contemporary American cuisine, but with international flare; French, Japanese, you name it. Food should never be boring."

I chanced a look at his face, and he was staring at me. He was staring so intently I thought I might burst into flames from the blush I felt rising from my chest, up my neck and across my face.

Seriously, what the hell is that about?

I took a deep breath, swallowed and moved onto my next question.

"What kind of atmosphere can someone expect if they visit?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Come on Bells, seriously, you don't NEED me for these questions. You were there! You know!"

I ground my teeth together as I paused the recorder again. "Damn it, Edward!" I yelled, which attracted the attention of everyone in the small coffee shop. I huffed and turned my focus back on Edward. "Are you too busy to be here or something? Do you have something better that you need to do? Am I keeping you from a date? Is that it Edward? Is there somewhere else you'd rather be? Someone else you'd rather be with? Because right now you really don't seem like you wanna be here and you really don't seem like you want to be bothered with me anymore."

I could feel my chest tightening and tears starting to well up in my eyes, but I fought them back, determined not to let him see me break. He was looking at me, shock written all over his face.

He held his hands up in defense. "Whoa, Bella, relax. That's not what I meant at all. All I meant was that you know me so well you could have written this article without even having to interview me. It's not that I don't want to be here, because I do, believe me; but I somehow don't think you're referring to this interview anymore. You have to know I've missed you."

"Stop right there," I said, holding my hand up. "I told you I don't want to talk about that here. Today this is nothing but a business meeting, and you're making it harder than it needs to be. Just answer the question."

He groaned in frustration and rubbed his hands over his face. "Fine. If you don't want to talk about it right now, can we go somewhere this week and talk about it? We need to discuss the elephant in the room, Bella."

I shrugged, trying to regain any sense of professionalism I had left. Yelling at him was not something I was proud of, but my frustration with him was quickly reaching epic heights. "Let's just finish this, Edward, then we'll see, okay? This is my priority right now. This interview."

He smiled smugly at me, probably thinking he was breaking through my shell.

We'll see about that, pretty boy.

I waved my hand in his direction, motioning for him to answer the question I previously posed.

"Alright...atmosphere. Well, I wanted Masen's to be elegant, but not stuffy. I want my patrons to feel like they can be comfortable, and enjoy themselves, rather than feel like they have to sit up perfectly straight and have to remember which fork to use. I love the rich hues of red and gold, and the dim lighting; I wanted it to have a slightly romantic ambiance, without having flowers, candles, and white tablecloths. I feel like Masen's is the perfect place for anything from a date, to a girls night out, to a business meeting."

I nodded, and jotted a few more notes down. "Last question...what is your favorite resturaunt, besides your own, in New York City?"

"THAT is a good question," he said, drumming his fingers on the table. "It's kind of hard to pick just one when you live in a city like New York. It's a melting pot here, and you can find restaurants that serve just about everything from every corner of the globe. But honestly, if I HAD to pick a favorite, it would be Tao; as far as mainstream goes. Now, if you were looking for something a little lesser known, but still really good, I'd go with The Little Owl. It's extremely laid back and their meatball sliders are excellent."

After writing a few more little notes, I put my pen down, and looked up at him. "Thanks for doing this, Edward. I'll put my review and the interview together this week, and it should be in print on Saturday, barring any hurdles."

He smiled at me and patted me on the hand. "Not a problem, Bella. If you need to ask anything else, you know how to reach me. Now that the interview is over though, we need to discuss this other stuff, Bells. It NEEDS to be done."

"Why, Edward? Why does it NEED to be done? Lots of people drift apart...it is a part of life. We drifted apart, and happened to meet again on a professional basis. So what? Why do we absolutely NEED to hash this out? What if we're better off this way?" I stood up, and started to gather my belongings, when he put his hand on my arm, forcing me to stop and look up at him again.

Every last word out of my mouth was a lie. We weren't better off apart; I had been miserable without him. I don't know why I was trying to convince myself otherwise. Maybe I was trying to keep him at a distance because I didn't want to lose him a second time. If I kept going on the way I had been for the past year, eventually, the pain of his absence would go away.

Sure, keep telling yourself that.

"Tell me you don't believe that, Bella. Please, just meet with me this week. I want a chance to explain myself, and if you still feel that way, fine. But I want to apologize properly, and tell you my side of the story. Please, Bella." His voice got progressively softer until I barely heard the last few words out of his mouth.

His hand was still on my arm, and was warming my whole body with one light touch. Part of me knew that I should sit down and talk to him, and it was wrestling with the other part of me that thought it was a really bad idea.

The nicer part of me won.

"Fine, Edward. We'll meet, and I'll listen to you. That's all I can promise you right now. I'll listen to your half of the story, but I can't guarantee that I'll like what you have to say."

He grinned. "That's all I'm asking for. Can you come over to my place, say Thursday night? I'll make us dinner."

"Sure," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Thursday's fine."

"Great. I'll text you my address this week. You don't need to bring anything. I'll handle it all."

He moved to pull me into a hug and I hesitated, but once his arms were around me, a sense of calm and familiarity came over me and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"I want things to be good between us again, Bells. I want to fix what's broken." he said, barely above a whisper.

I nodded and pulled away, walking backwards towards the door. "I'll see you Thursday."

"See ya." he said, waving and then stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Once I was outside, I leaned up against the closest wall, emotionally drained from the morning spent with Edward. Just being near him made me feel things I couldn't explain; maybe I didn't want them explained. Either way, it was kind of starting to freak me out.

What am I getting myself into?