a/n These first few chapters are probably going to be a little shorter. They'll get longer. And sexier. If I stick to the plan… Must stick to plan, must stick to plan!

CHAPTER 2—HUNGRY EYES

It was raining. Not a big surprise. As Mike watched Isaac mop the floor, he heaved a sigh and hopped up onto the counter at the front of the store. Not like anyone was coming in. Business had been slow for the past few weeks. He knew in about a week or two they'd be booming, with students out of school and wanting to take their exciting summer vacations, families wanting to bond…

What a shitty day. He hadn't, of course, managed to get out of the house without fighting with Jessica. She'd insisted that he could not wear those pants with that shirt. He insisted that he didn't really give a shit. She insisted that he looked like an idiot. He shouted that he didn't care, because he was the manager.

Then he'd stepped into a puddle on his way to his car and had to change his pants regardless. She'd been smug and he'd flipped her the bird on his way to his car.

Why had he asked her to marry him, seriously? How many times had they broken up?

He remembered the first time they'd broken up. High school. Junior year. Right before Christmas, when Bella was still in her funk…

Why did everything still relate to her? She was married with a kid, and going to Dartmouth. They'd gone out one time, and that barely counted as anything. Jacob Black had gone with them, and he'd puked in the back of the dude's car.

Seriously. Time to heave-ho and move on. He was engaged, for Christ's sake!

The door dinged and Mike hopped down from the counter. He didn't see where the new patron had gone. Hell, maybe they saw the shoes he was wearing, that also apparently didn't match, and ran away.

He heard very quiet footsteps slowly meandering down an aisle, and he followed them. When he located the owner, he almost turned chickenshit and ran off.

She was fucking hot as shit. And the only thing he could see was her back. Her long legs were clad in designer jeans, and she wore a tight fitting purple t-shirt. Her strawberry blonde hair was up in a pony tail. She stood staring up at a shelf with her head cocked slightly to one side, a hand on a popped hip. Long legs flowed smoothly into her nicely rounded ass, but she was still slender at the waist, and overall, even with the curves. He stared at her ass for longer than necessary, feeling a stirring down below that he tried to reign in as he cleared his throat.

She turned around, and he almost ran off again. Her face was the perfect face to accompany her smoking body. She had dark eyes set into her flawless, pale face. Her face, which was one that would make any supermodel in the world jealous. Her ears were perfectly proportioned to her nose and mouth. A few curly wisps of hair had fallen out and while he had a feeling this woman would describe herself, at the moment, as looking like shit, she was still the most beautiful figure he'd ever seen.

"Hi," Mike said, feeling lame. "So, uh, I see you're looking at some of our tents."

"Yes." Her voice was like tinkling laughter, and held a hint of an accent he couldn't identify. "I suppose you work here?"

"Uh, yeah." So, so fucking lame! "I'm the manager."

"Oh," she said, and she swung her hips slightly as she switched hands. "Really?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, trying to sound smarter than he really was. "My name's Mike."

"Mike Newton," she said, smiling. There was a hint of irony in her voice he could not understand. Maybe he'd imagined it.

"You know me?" he asked, hopeful. She looked familiar, for sure. He just couldn't place her.

She looked a little embarrassed. "I just assumed, from the store name," she said, shrugging slightly. "Small towns, family businesses…" She trailed off. What was that accent? It was hot.

"Yeah," he said, smiling what he hoped was his famous award winning smile. "I'm Mike Newton. It's nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand, hoping she'd return the gesture.

She smiled warmly. God, she was so stunning. Stunning? Hell of a word choice. "My name is Tanya."

"Is there a last name to go with that?" Fuck. Why did he care? "I just noticed your little accent. I was hoping I could figure you out." Great. Now he sounded like a creep.

To his surprise, she threw back her head and laughed. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever witnessed. It was like hearing bells, and her smile lit up her face like rays of sunshine and…

Seriously. What. The. Fuck.

"Petrov," she said, finally, still laughing a little. "It's Russian."

"Ah." Mike snapped his fingers like he'd known it all along. Russian. Sexy. You have a girlfriend. Fiancée. Fuck! "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Tanya Petrov."

She reached out to shake the hand that had started to slump a little. "It's very nice to meet you, Mike Newton."

The most amazing feeling of electricity and static and cold ice jolted through him when she took his hand. It went from his fingertips up his arm to his brain, down his spinal chord, and into his toes. He felt his groin shifting again, but he didn't even really register it that much. He was too focused on the electrical impulses shooting up his arm. It felt too hot, almost. Her hand was so cold…

Barely three seconds had passed before she let go, blinking. It seemed unnatural, somehow, those two or three blinks.

"So, Mike," she said, smiling as she threw her hands out to her sides. "I've never been camping, and I have no idea what I'm doing."

Finally, camping equipment—something he knew no matter how weird his brain felt.

"Well, Tanya," he said, giving her his best smile again, "you're talking to the right guy."

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Two hours later, Tanya pulled into the Cullen's driveway and pulled to a stop. She let the engine idle for a moment, just starring, a little slack jawed, at the garage door.

The tap on her window actually made her jump. She couldn't see the face, just the body, but she knew who it was. She shut off the car and opened the door. Jacob stepped out of her way, raising his eyebrows as he caught a glimpse of the backseat.

"Jesus, Tanya," he said, letting out a low whistle. "What did you do?"

Tanya stared with him, not comprehending what had just happened. "I don't know," she said slowly. "I spent five thousand dollars on camping gear, though."

"Did they give you some kind of plaque?" he asked. "You're probably Newton's customer of the week."

If she could have blushed, she would have. The looks Mike Newton had given her were almost sinful—like he could see through her clothes and was staring at her naked body. She'd felt so suddenly self-conscious, a feeling with which she was not at all comfortable or familiar. She had gone shy and bashful, and he'd gone all charming with his gleaming white smile.

She'd screwed up by blurting out his last name. Of course, he didn't remember her. He'd been at the wedding with some girl. Plain, frizzy black hair, annoying voice. She wondered idly if they were still together. If they were happy…

"Yoo-hoo!" Jacob was waving his big hand in her face. "Tanya!"

She blinked. What was with her today? He had to think she was hotter than that dumb…

"Tanya!" It was Renesmee this time. "Are you okay?" The little girl took her hand and played back Tanya's dreamy face. Dreamy?

"I'm fine, doll," Tanya said, smiling falsely. "Did you have a good day today?"

"Daddy taught me how to play rummy," she said. "It's really easy, and it's really fun. But only if Mom plays. Otherwise, Daddy gets to cheat and knows what cards I have."

"Come on, kid," Jacob said, and he hoisted Renesmee up onto his back. He smiled at Tanya. "We're gonna go pick on Billy for a while."

"See you later." At a slow, human pace, Tanya made her way back into the grand house.

Back inside, Edward was already chuckling at her. "And what are you going to do with five grand worth of camping gear, may I ask?"

"I don't know," she groaned.

Bella stopped flipping pages in her lingerie catalogue. "You bought five thousand dollars worth of camping gear?" she asked in shock. She paused, then shrugged and looked back in her catalogue. "You probably made Mrs. Newton's day."

"Oh, Mrs. Newton wasn't in today," Edward said casually, making his way to his piano and sitting down. "Mike was working. He's the manager now." He smirked at Tanya.

"Well, in that case," Bella said, not glancing up, "you probably made his month. Hell, maybe even his year." She leaned her head back to look at Edward. "Is he still with Jessica?"

"No idea." Edward started playing soothing Rachmaninov, and Tanya smiled, knowing it was his way of saying, No hard feelings. Here's a song I know you like.

"Well, if so, he's definitely a happy camper now."

Tanya wanted a subject change. Now. This topic was not one she cared to discuss.

Please, please, change the subject. Anything.

Edward quirked an eyebrow. "Do you remember when the Rachmaninov concert in '32?"

Thank you. She smiled, glad for something else to think about. "The one in Chicago?" She walked across the living room to sit on the arm of Bella's chair and look over her shoulder. "That was the night I ran into Carlisle outside before and met you all. Rachmaninov played the second piano concerto."

"Your favorite." Edward laughed. "It doesn't help that Eric Carmen brought it back and that Dirty Dancing wound up being one of your favorite movies."

"Hey," she said defensively, "Eric Carmen is a musical genius, and that was my favorite Rachmaninov concert ever. I would have cried if I could have. He was so fantastic. And don't act like you weren't impressed." She snorted and he ignored her. "You went home and practiced for a month solid. Didn't even hunt. You wanted to be Vladimir Horowitz." Tanya sighed dramatically. "That's when I knew that you would always choose your music over me, and that I could never be with an artist. Thought I'd give it a shot, anyway."

"Of course," Edward said, rolling his eyes.

Bella looked up, eyes suddenly wide. "You actually saw Rachmaninov play?"

"You have to remember, Bella," Edward said, not stopping his hands, "the man had a family to support, and composers don't always make a lot of money. He had to play concerts to get paid more." He smiled. "It certainly didn't hurt that the man had the biggest hands most people had ever seen. He could play insanely well."

"Wow." Bella turned back to her catalogue. "It just still blows my mind that you guys were around back then."

"You forget, darling," Tanya said, smiling, "I'm ancient compared to your entire family." A blue lingerie set caught her eye then, and she pointed to it. "Oh, that would look lovely on you."

"I was looking at the same one," Bella said, nodding. Out of the corner of her eye, Tanya saw Edward glance over and scowl. She giggled.

Can you hear me?

Nothing. Bella's shield was up.

"I like that one, too," Tanya said nonchalantly, pointing to a piece that was less of bra and panty set than a few scraps of lace that barely covered anything. "Red is always a good color for a brunette."

"You think?" Bella grinned devilishly, and Edward growled.

"Not fair," he muttered.

"What, baby, don't you want to be surprised when I come out of the closet in something that barely covers my—oomph!"

Tanya barely had time to jump out of his way before Edward tackled Bella, and the chair in which she sat. Bella squealed with laughter as he threw her over his shoulder and raced out the front door. She heard their laughter for several seconds before it faded.

Suddenly alone, Tanya heaved a sigh. It was too quiet. She was happy not to be hearing whatever it was that they were up to, but still…

After she straightened the chair, Tanya picked up the lingerie catalogue and started flipping through it again, trying to find something she liked on her. Maybe something she could be wearing under that little black dress she'd brought along, something she could wear in a bar in Seattle that would tease a man just enough…

She closed her eyes, imagining the warmth of a man's skin on hers, but opened them again when the baby face with the blue eyes and blonde hair came into focus again.

Making her way to the computer, Tanya decided that camping gear wasn't going to satisfy her need for retail therapy, and started shopping.

a/n I need reviews, so spread the word if you like this! Nobody knows these stories exist—trust me, because they don't! There's seriously very little (good) Tanya/Mike out there. It's the perfect pairing. Seriously. You will see. I promise.

I'm finding as I go that I have a lot to work with, in that there's just enough Tanya in the books to profile her, but enough missing to make some fun gaps to fill. Hope you like her.

REVIEW!