No words can describe how sorry I am for not updating sooner. I know I could go on and on with the reasons and excuses but all that really matters is that I'm back in business. It took me a while to figure out how to manage my summer programs and volunteer work along with having to practice soccer daily, but I'm pretty sure I've figure it all out and will be updating regularly. That and the fact I outlined the next 15 chapters and won't have to figure everything out for a while. lol.

Thank you for your patience and I hope some of you are still around to read this. :)

I'm still in DESPERATE need for a BETA-READER. I'm trying to look through fanfiction but its a very long and tedious process because nearly all the ones they come up with haven't been on in a few years. If you are interested PLEASE let me know, I'll love you forever. :)

Here we go!

Chapter O4: And every magazine tells her she's not good enough

BPOV

The door closes with a clink, his steps fading as he walks away from the apartment. I'm still sitting at the table, frazzled and confused about what just happened minutes ago. The man who acted so ruff and rudely last night just treated me like a friend and offered me a job; to say I was slightly baffled would be the understatement of the year.

I rub two of my fingers across my closed eyes hoping to clear my thoughts and the growing headache. I know, even if it is a pity offer, taking the job would help me dramatically financially. I would be able to save up enough to pay off all the backed payments for various things and get back on my feet, maybe even rent an apartment once all that was done. Emotionally; however, I'm quite certain this will be the world's most intense rollercoaster.

One second he's the rude arrogant CEO, the next he's the sympathetic caring friend, and that's all within twelve hours.

I glance at the clock over the finely polished silver oven and sigh, knowing I have to come up with a plan for Monday. It's already the middle of Thursday morning, Jasper and Alice fly home late tomorrow night, and my 'extermination problem' doesn't get fixed until Monday morning. He offered to let me stay here as long as I needed to, and even though I really don't want to, it doesn't look like I have many other options yet. So I have about four days to find somewhere to live, new clothes, and a way to cut my straggling hair without blowing through what's left of my bank account.

While I can get by not paying rent, I can't go without paying off all the student loans I have. The small, rapidly fading bank account barely has enough to make the payments as it is. I know if I can make it through the first month as Edward's personal assistant I'll be able to stand a little firmer on my own two feet, but until then, I need a solid kink-free plan that won't let anyone know while still getting the job done.

I push back from the table, slide in the polished wooden chair and wipe up the crumbs with a napkin. I walk back to the guest room quickly, not feeling entirely comfortable alone in his house. I grab my bag and scurry into the bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind me.

I look around the room, my eyes widening as I take in its grandeur. Edward's guest must never feel unwelcomed, that's for sure. The tub alone could double as a small swimming pool. I ignore the rest of it and scan the room for what I really need. I spot a door in the corner and make my way to it, carefully opening it. I gasp at the sight of it. Who has a walk in closet, in their bathroom?

Edward Cullen, that's who.

I take a step in, hesitantly reaching for a blow-dryer and a stack of white fluffy towels. As I walk out, I see a wrapped bar of soap and slip it into my hand as well. After I place everything on the closed toilet seat, I squat down, rummaging through my bag until I find my dirty jeans and sweater. I lay them down on the counter and turn to the sink, switching the knob to hot and closing the drain.

I wait until it's almost full before dipping my clothes in one at a time. I unwrap the soap and make sure it has enough water on it to bubble before I begin to scrub it across my jeans and sweater. It takes a while to do by hand, but eventually my clothes are dirt free and soapy fresh. I place each piece in the water, wipe the soap off and ring them out, attempting to get as much water as possible out of the clothes.

They hang over the edge of the tub, water slowly dripping down from them and onto the towel I had placed down. I quickly plug in the blow-dryer and turn it on, aiming it at my wet clothes. I expertly move it across them, drying the jeans and sweater before the room grows hot from the air. I flip it off, shoving it and the rest of the things I used back into the closet.

I strip slowly, snatching my clean clothes and slipping them on, smiling as the warm articles hug my body. They look clean and smell even better. I snuggle into them for a second before stuffing my old clothes into my bag and hurrying out of the bathroom.

I glance at the clock, realizing my laundry detour had taken longer than I had originally expected. I make up the time by jogging out of his apartment and taking the elevator instead of the stairs. I wince when I open the doors in the lobby, the warm air assaulting me almost immediately. I push the sleeves of my sweater all the way up my arm, frowning when the extra clothes folds over itself, completely defeating my attempts.

Lack of a food supply had dropped my weight over the past few months. I really hadn't thought much about it, but it was apparent by the way my clothes fit me that my body wasn't as big as it had been in college.

I shake it off and look around, my eyes widening as it hits me. He lives right in the heart of the city. Cars are zooming past me; people are bustling down the sidewalk, barely stepping around me. I raise my chin and make my way into the crowds, following them until I reach the shopping area. I pass by the designer stores and head for the bank I spot in the distance, relived as the crowds slowly fade the closer I get. Apparently people are more worried about spending money than saving it.

I approach the ATM machine with hesitation, not really wanting to spend the money but knowing that I have to. I can't go to work in either of the two outfits that I have in my bag. Even though I know I'll return any clothes I buy today, that still doesn't help my mindset. It's spending more money that I can't afford to spend. I'll be hard-pressed to make my loan payments this month and getting behind on them only causes me to have to spend even more in the long run.

I sigh, pressing the 'English' button down and wincing as I click 'enter' for the two hundred dollar withdrawal. The money shoots out at the bottom as I say no to a receipt. I count it quickly before folding it into my pocket, feeling its added weight immediately.

I pull the dress off the rack, smiling as I take in its appearance. It's blue, classy and conservative but not to the extreme. It doesn't really have any sleeves, only cut into a slight 'v' in the front, and appears to go down just to the knee, if I'm judging the length of it and my height right. I rub my thumb over the fabric, my happiness growing when I notice how soft and silky it is, definitely something I wouldn't mind wearing all day long.

I look around for the tag in order to check both the size and the price. It takes me a second to find one but once I catch a glimpse of the numbers I hang it back up with a little too much force, knowing there is no way I can spend that much on a dress.

I sigh, disappointment slowly slipping in despite my efforts to keep it out. In a few months, I won't have this problem, I think that as I head to the next rack and the one after that until I find a dress I can actually afford and doesn't look like the sewing machine blew up on it.

I shuffle my way towards the check-out lines, quickly handing over the money necessary before hurrying out, the receipt carefully tucked away within the bag. I walk over to three other stores, picking out a different outfit in each one of them, all on the clearance rack and all returnable. I've never shopped in any of these places before and know for a fact that as long as these clothes aren't dirtied or damaged my plan will fall through without a glitch.

After stuffing three of the bags into the biggest one, I slip it over my arm and begin walking back to Edward's apartment. My pace is slow, not wanting to arrive two hours before he promised to be home. I know that he said I could stay with him until Jasper and Alice came home, but I wasn't entirely sure he wanted me roaming around his fancy house all day long. In fact, if I were him, I wouldn't trust anyone, especially someone I met off the streets, alone in it.

I stop mid-stride, scooting out of the way and onto a bench. I place the shopping bags down and slip a hand into the front pocket of my jeans, pulling out the bills I had left from my withdrawal. I move the money around in my hand, quickly counting it before shoving it back into the safety of my jeans. It's just enough for what I have planned.

Based on the breakfast Edward gave me and how long it took him to find food that wouldn't kill us, I assume that he doesn't have many edible things at his house and definitely doesn't cook often, if at all. I, on the other hand, grew up baking with my grandmother daily, making different treats and meals with her as much as possible. If it was one thing Bella Swan was good at, it was cooking.

I change directions, heading towards the Walmart I had passed earlier. I pick up the pace, knowing that Edward wouldn't appreciate a trashed kitchen when he comes home. I almost break up into a jog but when it's evident I haven't worked out in years I quickly slow to a walk, my breathing already labored and wheezing.

I make a mental note to start exercising more often.

I weave through the aisles, throwing all the generic brand ingredients I'll need into a hand cart. When I'm sure I've picked up everything I'll need and enough of each thing, I check myself out, depositing the money through the slot. I carefully place everything into one bag, except the eggs, and double bag it, adding strength to support the weight. I glance at the time on the receipt and snatch the bag up, hurrying out of the door and into Edward's apartment.

I drop the food off in the kitchen before heading to the quest room. Without delay, I place the shopping bags onto the bed, my messenger bag right beside them. I look down at what I'm wearing, and groan. I don't feel like re-watching the blue sweater once it's covered in eggs and flour, but I don't exactly want to gallivant around in nothing but the sweatpants and sweatshirt I wore this morning. I look around the room desperate to find something, anything that I can wear. I spot the cream tank lying on top of my dirty clothes. Even though I know it's faded, slightly dirty, and a little to lacking in the fabric department for my taste, I slip it on in place of the sweater and dash back to the kitchen, eager to finally be able to bake again.

It doesn't take long to find the unused pans and bowls I'll need so I'm able to get to work quickly, alternating between humming and singing as I stir the batter. The oven reaches the right temperature and beeps just as I begin dropping dollops of dough onto the cookie sheet. I fill the metal with it and slide it in the oven, hoping that Edward isn't deathly allergic to peanut butter.

The old wooden clock hanging on the wall near the door chimes six times. The red lazy boy recliner tucks me away when I fold my legs underneath me, adding to the comfort of the chair. I lean over, looking into the kitchen. The plate of still slightly warm cookies is sitting on the counter, all traces of flour, eggs, and milk vanished.

I plop back down, snuggling into the chair even more. It really is rather comfortable, I note as my head rests against the large plush pillow built into the back of it. I could already imagine Charlie sitting in it, beer in one hand plastic plate in the other, the Seahawks game blaring from the T.V. I smile at the memory and close my eyes, fighting back any emotions that might come with it.

I sit there, eyes closed, my mind completely blank. The clock chimes once right as I'm about to doze off, successfully waking me from my almost slumber. Seconds after I open my eyes, the door clicks shut and footsteps make their way down the hallway, fading as they hit the carpet.

"Oh hey," Edward says, pulling at his tie. I sit up in the chair, dropping my legs to the floor in the process. "I didn't know if you'd be here."

I smile and nod, not quite sure how he's expecting me to respond to that. Normally I'd probably come up with something witty and cute, but in his house, staying in a warm bed with food, I'm not going to risk upsetting him.

"That isn't…" He trails off, pointing to the tray. I laugh as he drops his briefcase and walks towards them quickly, his expression suddenly juvenile, all previous signs of stress gone. I follow him quietly, walking around him and into the kitchen to pour him a glass of milk. I slide it across the counter, shaking my head with a smile at the sight of him, cookie half in half out of his mouth, crumbs covering the top of his surely expensive suit.

"What?" He asks the food in his mouth distorting the word until it's almost unrecognizable.

I just laugh the part of my brain that allows me to talk obviously not working anymore. I watch as he swallows the remaining half and chases it down the milk. I feel odd just standing there standing but I don't make an effort to move or avert my attention.

Edward clears his throat when he's finished attacking the plate. I look up at his eyes making contact with the deep green. He stares back at me and I soon become uncomfortable, dropping my gaze back down to his pale neck.

There's an awkward moment when neither of us speaks and my mouth finally starts working. "I, uh, I hope you don't mind me using your kitchen or anything," I tell him, hoping the cookies will even out any annoyance he might have with me going through is stuff.

His neck moves back and forth, my eyes briefly flicker upwards and catch a glimpse of his bronze hair moving with the motion. "If you make anything half as good as these you can use the kitchen anytime you want. The pans are probably getting mad with me for never using them anyways."

I snort, knowing for a fact if they could feel anything they'd have beaten him to a pulp already for allowing the inch worth of dust that was on them to exist. Just that quickly the verbal machine is gone and I'm left standing there in the kitchen with Mystery Man unable to make any words pop into my brain.

"I would say we could go out and grab something but I'm so tired of walking around I'd rather just order pizza and watch a movie or something, if that's all right with you?" he asks while slipping out of his jacket and draping it over the gradient counter-top.

I nod and verbally agree to it, not really caring what we do. It's his house. He smiles and tells me where the movies are kept and to pick a few out that we could potentially watch. I haven't been to the theatres in years and don't have enough time to follow anything on the television so I start to panic about picking out a movie he'd actually want to watch. Despite everything I still hear myself agreeing to it with a smile.

Me, being the dork that I am, push my glasses up my nose and point to the area of the room he just pointed out to. "I'm just going to, uh, pick out the movies." I claim before starting to scamper away, blush heating up my face immediately.

I hear his soft chuckle behind me and crouch down by the self, gently pulling my hair in front of my face.

"What type of pizza do you want? I'll pretty much eat everything but please don't say you're a 'Just Cheese' person because I might have to kick you out. That shit just doesn't fly around here."

I laugh, shaking my head. "I like everything, and I mean everything on mine."I glance over my shoulder, not liking to be looking at other things when talking to someone, even if it's as casual as this.

Edward smirks, "I knew there was a reason I agreed to getting you." He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone, the sudden movement causing his scent to waft into the air around me. It takes every ounce of self-control that I have to not lean in and inhale it. I close my mouth and breathe through my nose, hoping to seem natural about it.

With the phone up to his ear, Mystery Man orders the pizza quickly before getting up to get whatever it is he needs. He's standing at the edge of the room before he turns back to me, "Oh and I don't have to work tomorrow. I figured we could go over everything for your start on Monday so we have all night, pick out as many as you feel up for."

Pizza and movies with Edward tonight and a full day of him tomorrow, this is either going to be a really good thing or the beginning of my demise.

Yeah, I know, I suck for back-to-back sort of cliffies. I promise the next one won't be like that...I don't think it will anyways. I hope you liked it, even if it took three weeks and was a bit slow. I'm already beginning the next one and hoping to get it out for Wednesday. I know I'm aiming for the weekly updates but I may add in Sundays as well if ya'll seem interested enough. SO I'm going to be like all the other review-whore authors.

Ten reviews for chapter 5. I KNOW you guys can give me that especially after seeing how many people actually read last chapter. That's about 1% of the readers reviewing.

Let me know what you guys think and I'll be sure to respond. If you're really lucky I might send out teasers with the replies as well. :) Hope everyone is having a good summer and enjoying the world cup!

Lots of love,

Rae.