A/N: This chapter is hopefully the most angsty. It also doesn't have any lemon, for reasons that will become obvious upon reading.
Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all of Twilight.
This story is rated M for language and sex, don't read if you're under 18.
Chapter 2 – Opening Bid
Edward sat at his desk, scanning the speech he'd rewritten over the past 3 days. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran his hands through his hair once more. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass wall of his office and his eyes narrowed. His hair looked almost exactly as it had when he'd climbed out of Jasper's grasp and left him sleeping. Edward hadn't heard from Whitlock yet, not that he expected to.
He cursed his stupidity at drinking so much. He knew Jasper's reputation for one night stands. When he had woken tangled up in Jasper, his heart had swelled with hope for a moment. He had lain there, studying Jasper's beautiful face, but the hope turned sour in the pit of his stomach as he remembered the numerous stories Emmett had regaled him with of Jasper's conquests over the years. He had foolishly offered himself up to Jasper, and Jasper had taken him. Edward was a notch.
He had managed to extricate himself from Jasper's embrace and had dressed as swiftly and quietly as possible. His mind was racing as he considered what would happen when Jasper woke up. He couldn't face the rejection, being tossed aside. At least if he left, he could maintain a single shred of dignity. He would simply never see Jasper again. It wasn't as if they ran in the same circles. Their jobs never intersected, and Esme was still not convinced that Jasper was good company, so Emmett never brought his friend to family functions.
Jasper had confirmed Edward's initial prognosis of the situation. He had not made any effort to contact Edward. Emmett had called a few hours after Edward left and told him the papers were signed and he was messengering them to the main office. Edward had thanked him and waited for more, but Emmett simply chatted about meaningless nonsense for a few minutes. He raved about Rosalie Hale, the woman he'd actually been dating, and asked if Edward was interested in coming to dinner some night to meet Rosie. He didn't mention Jasper; he didn't say anything even remotely probing. Emmett didn't know. Edward wasn't even significant enough to warrant comment. Edward wasn't surprised. He'd known as soon as he woke up the day after that he was merely a name in a long list of names. Even so, it was one thing to assume you were a notch in someone's bedpost, quite another to have it confirmed.
Edward was looking forward to the coming evening. His anticipation was not merely because of the night itself, though the gala would be spectacular thanks to his efforts. Edward was anticipating the week of vacation that would start the instant the gala ended. He needed to get away. He needed to distance himself from the company, from his family. He needed time and space in order to deal with the burning lump of shit that was his self-esteem after the indescribably stupid way he'd handled the whole Jasper ordeal.
Try as he might, Edward couldn't avoid remembering every detail about the night. Jasper's strong, rough hands on his skin, the taste of his mouth, the sound of his moans, the movement of their bodies in a passionate rhythm, the exquisite agony of Jasper filling him completely. Each memory was painful to recall, because for Edward, they were likely the most passionate he would ever have, and he now realized that Jasper would never reciprocate his feelings. Someday he might study the memories, look back on them fondly, but today, he clamped down the lid and smothered the memories in bitter anger. He wasn't really angry at Jasper, he was angry with himself, with the universe.
Edward finished proofreading his speech and sent a copy to his mother for approval. He set about the rest of the tasks for the fundraiser. He double-checked the seating chart, trying to determine if he'd put any people together who didn't get along. He recognized most of the names, since almost all the attendees of his galas were repeat donors. Three or four guests came from companies that donated generously but had never come to any events. He spaced them out in the areas of the most generous donors, hoping that they might be inspired to bid.
The gala tonight was to support shelters for victims of abuse. The shelters would hold about 50 occupants and cost around $100,000 each to build. That was considering only materials, since the labor was strictly on a volunteer basis. Edward hoped to raise $500,000 from the cost of attendance plus the generous donations he was auctioning off. The number was only slightly higher than the actual amount raised at last year's gala, so Edward felt his goal was conservative and was really aiming for more. His personal goal was to raise at least $600,000.
He finished with the seating chart and called the catering service to make sure the menu was finalized and the quantities were all correct. He called the venue to make sure everything was set up. The team in charge of the auction had a few last minute additions and weren't sure where to put them, so Edward straightened out the situation. When he hung up from his last phone call of the day, he was almost pleased. Now all he had to do was survive Tanya Denali until the end of the evening. God help him.
Edward picked out his wardrobe painstakingly. His tuxedo was beautifully tailored to fit him like a tuxedo. It always bothered him when people talked about clothes fitting like gloves. A tux should fit like a tux, if it fit like a glove, he'd be worried. He smoothed the black satin lapels down and gathered the sides of the jacket to fasten the button. He turned to the side to examine himself in the mirror.
Thanks to Alice and her fashion connections, Edward was always dressed impeccably (with the exception of an incident a few days prior). His clothes were all custom tailored, but the tuxedo was particularly fine. Edward worked hard to keep himself in shape. He ran nearly every day, and every now and then, he liked to pretend he could make people drool over him, though he knew he was average in the looks department. The clothes gave him confidence, however, so he donned them like a suit of armor. He left the gold and red bow tie untied for now, since they tended to make him feel uncomfortably close around the collar when tied. HE looked like a festive James Bond. Alice had assured him that the tie would bring out the red and gold in his hair, and he was simply grateful that the cummerbund was basic black.
Edward sighed and set down his contact case, knowing they would irritate his eyes. He pushed on his black framed glasses instead and looked at the geek in the mirror. No amount of grooming could tame his hair completely, and unless he wanted to look like he was crying all night, glasses were a must. He growled as he tried vainly to flatten one strand of particularly unruly hair, and he as he ducked his head, his glasses slipped down his nose. He immediately straightened and pushed his glasses up his nose, then he grabbed the hand that was heading to his hair. He would not ruin all the effort he'd put into making it mostly kempt. Squaring his shoulders he glared defiantly at the mirror. At least the tux was amazing. He resigned himself to his lackluster looks and grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet as he exited his top floor apartment.
When Edward reached his parents' estate, he gritted his teeth as he punched in the security code, time to face Tanya, and his mother. He pulled up to the front of the house and hopped out of his car, striding quickly to the door and pushing it open. His mother and Tanya were just inside, making sure each others' dresses weren't mussed in any way. Tanya was stunning in a sleeveless floor-length copper dress with a plunging neckline. The color complemented her strawberry blond hair and almost matched Edward's gaudy bow tie. Esme Cullen was radiant in a cream colored gown, tastefully cut with full-length sleeves. She beamed when she saw Edward, then her smile faded a bit at the harangued look on her son's face, "Edward, could I talk with you privately for a moment?" She asked gently. He nodded and followed her into the next room while Tanya struggled with her dress.
Esme could tell Edward was distressed and suspected it had something to do with Tanya's presence, "You don't always have to take a date, Edward," she chided him quietly, "and you know you could always take whomever you choose." She caught his eye and held it. Edward looked away.
"I know you and dad support me, Mom," he said, "But it's nobody's business, and I don't feel strongly enough about anyone to make waves." (except maybe Jasper, but that would never happen.)
Esme sighed, gathering her son into a warm embrace, "I just want you to find your perfect man, Edward. I hate to see you hiding yourself from the world because you're afraid for your father or the company. We love you more than anything, you and Emmett and Alice are more precious than any amount of money."
"I'm not afraid, Mom," Edward said, only partially telling the truth, "I just don't want it to be on display, if I tell the world I'm gay, then I'll suddenly be more news-worthy, and you know I can barely stand the few people who hand around me just because of my name. If there were any more, I might kill one of them." He was only partly joking. Esme chuckled and rubbed him on the back.
"Just… think about it, Edward. There's someone out there, just waiting for you, the perfect match." Edward nodded and perked up.
"On the bright side, Mom, if he manages to find me while I'm still evading the public eye, it just proves he's willing to put up with a lot of crap to be with me, right?" Edward led his mother out to the entryway where Tanya was waiting quietly. He offered her his arm and she took it. The three made their way to the Limousine and Edward helped the ladies in before joining them and pulling the door closed. Tanya eyed Edward speculatively for a moment. She had known for awhile that Edward wasn't attracted to her, and had begun to suspect it wasn't just her person but her gender. She had spent the last few gatherings taunting him with suggestive comments about men, grinning wickedly when his ears would go pink.
Edward worried every time Tanya made comments that she was trying to hint at a deeper relationship. When she complimented the strength or looks of the most attractive men at each event, Edward squirmed. It was partly because he thought she wanted a physical relationship and partly because he was sometimes aroused by her comments, much to his horror. He thought he had been clear about his own level of interest, always unfailingly polite but distant. He worried that he would have to "dump" his longtime "girlfriend" or tell her the truth and ask her to continue the charade. Neither situation was ideal. He wistfully considered the type of relationship that he would come out publically for. He thought of the depth of connection that would overcome his dislike of the press and would break down the barrier between his public and private lives to openly affect every day and every moment. He wanted it. It was the one thing his brother and sister had that he envied. They were free to love whomever they chose without worrying about public image. Edward was too shy and reserved to love anyone for fear that they would hurt him and he would be left, naked to public scrutiny, a target for greedy and shallow men.
They arrived at the gala and were instantly the center of focus. Reporters asked about the nature of Edward and Tanya's relationship, something neither would ever comment on. They wanted to know if Edward would accompany Tanya on her planned tour of Europe. He wouldn't, but they didn't comment. They wanted to know if Edward was planning on proposing soon. He wasn't and almost laughed out loud when the question was asked. If he were planning on proposing to Tanya, he wouldn't be likely to tell the press in front of her. They made it through the gauntlet of meaningless questions that would no doubt spawn a torrent of salacious and completely misdirected gossip. Edward was reclusive and private, which was his only draw for the media.
They entered the banquet hall and the scene made Edward swell with pride. Tables were scattered artfully around an expansive polished marble dance floor. There was a band playing contemporary jazz improvisations loud enough that everyone could hear, but subtle enough to allow people conversation. The cream of society was all in attendance. Every prominent banker, businessman, politician, and socialite vied for a seat at one of the lovely tables. These events were a way to give back, rub elbows with potential clients/partners, and show everyone how much you would spend on a donated set of golf clubs (ideally, 2-3 times what they were worth). Esme Cullen was the pinnacle of Seattle society, knew absolutely everyone, and was a master of politely pointing out everyone who didn't attend, so the entire city was on their best behavior. She glided from table to table, greeting the women warmly and joking with the men in a perfectly non-flirtatious manner.
The gala was going to be a huge success. They'd hired the best chef in the city to cater the event; they'd spared no expense (since the charitable arm of the foundation was one of the few that were never criticized). Esme glowed with pride every time someone complemented Edward on the fantastic setup, the wonderful food, the amazing venue.
Edward schmoozed with the biggest donors. Tanya's father Aro was in attendance, and he made some not-so-subtle remarks about his hopes for an advantageous match. He was one of the top contributors, so Edward merely nodded and thanked him for his attendance. He moved on to some doctors that knew his father from college. A few women asked him to dance, pressing their breasts up against him. He cringed away, aware that they were after more than a dance and decidedly grossed out.
After about an hour, Edward was getting a little claustrophobic. Every time that anyone would mention Emmett or the developments that Edward's brother was working on, he remembered Whitlock and the one night stand. He acknowledged that he was painfully and embarrassingly obsessed with a man that had not so much as called since taking advantage (but oh what sweet advantage it was) of a very drunk, very vulnerable Edward. Finally, Edward was sure that if he heard one more word that reminded him of Jasper, he would have to excuse himself and take care of his raging erection, so he asked Tanya to dance. She agreed demurely, and seemed to recognize that Edward was more uncomfortable than usual. They danced for half an hour, pausing briefly to catch their respective breaths. Tanya was quiet, not making any of her usual comments, and Edward was extremely grateful.
Finally it was time to start the auction. Edward made his way to the stage and motioned the band to stop after the next song. Esme and Emmett joined him on the stage. They would be helping to display the items which strengthened the family vibe Edward wanted to permeate the event with. When the music ceased, the crowd slowly made their way back to their seats. Edward smiled as the hubbub died down. He gauged the success of most of his auction events by how quickly the crowds returned to order and silence when they knew it was about to start. Judging by this reaction, the donated items were going to be very popular.
The first few items were a collection of art donated by a wealthy widow. She had given generously over the years, and the 20 pieces in this collection were an extraordinarily generous contribution. Edward was gratified to hear and see the bidding go so high, the pieces sold for over $10,000 dollars all told (Esme bought 3, probably intending to decorate someone's office or home with them), which was a rather large sum, given that they were from an unknown artist. Edward felt his nerves receding, he'd always gotten nervous when standing up in front of a crowd, but now that it was down to figures, he was more in his element.
Almost 2 hours and 200 items later, Edward was down to the last lot, the largest of the night. Exceeding his wildest expectations, the auction had already netted $645,000 and the last item should easily add another $20-25k. He brought up the image of the boat and started off the bidding. The price rose steadily, passing $20,000. At this point bidders dropped off quickly, and when Edward had collected the last bid, the boat went for $24,600. Edward started to thank everyone for the wonderful event, waiting for the final total to reach him so that he could tell these people how much their combined efforts had netted the company.
Suddenly, Edward felt eyes on him, which was odd, because practically everyone was watching him, but he felt a single set and scanned the crowd, trying to determine who was watching him so intently as to cause this kind of awareness. He was still distracted when he felt a piece of paper slipped into his hand and looked down, realizing it was the tally of the nights takings: $672,412.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he called out. A hush filled the room, he still felt the eyes on him and felt sweat beading on his forehead. He clutched the paper and tried to calm himself, "I'm pleased to announce that the total donations this evening have surpassed any event we've ever had. We have raised—"
"One hundred thousand dollars," a sickeningly familiar voice made Edward's blood freeze. He looked toward the blond man standing by one table in a breathtaking navy suit. He was staring at Edward intently and his voice was cold.
"I bid one hundred thousand dollars on Edward Cullen. If he accepts the bid, I want him to dedicate his own time to one of the charitable construction programs, start to finish, as any other volunteer laborer does." Jasper's voice was strong and clear, without any hint of emotion. Edward was aware of a swelling murmur making its way through the audience. Cameras flashed from the back of the room and he felt mildly faint.
There was no way to gracefully refuse such an outrageous offer. Jasper Whitlock had him by the short hairs and the bastard knew it. His expression was impassive, but his deep blue eyes snapped with intensity, challenging Edward to refuse the bid. Edward shook, not sure what he should do. He tried to remain calm as he darted a frantic glance toward his mother. She met his eye and tilted her chin proudly, encouraging him to rise to the challenge. He cleared his throat.
"Are there any other bids?" he asked weakly. A chuckle spread through the audience, but nobody raised their hands, of course.
"Then," he said, voice a little stronger. He wouldn't be bullied, Jasper Whitlock wouldn't win this little war of wills. He, Edward Cullen, would take the challenge. He would help with the construction of a building and take Whitlock's hard-earned money for the good of the charity. He squared his shoulders.
"Sold, to Jasper Whitlock, of Whitlock Construction Co." He glanced down at the paper.
"Well, due to that bout of charity, our total is now $772,412 for one night of fundraising, give yourselves a hand." He led the audience in a round of applause, smiling though his stomach seemed to be folding in on itself. He had to leave. Now.
He apologized to his mother, and she frowned, concerned. He couldn't worry about her, he needed to get air, and he needed time away from the crowds he had endured the entire evening.
Edward made his way out of the hall as quickly as he could, which was not very. Every time he took a step there was another patron thanking him for the evening or telling him how impressed they were at his own act of charity. He started running into members of the press about halfway to the door. They trailed after him, trying to ask questions. Had he planned on auctioning himself off? Was Whitlock a friend of his? Which project would he be working on? The questions bombarded him and he barely managed to maintain his composure long enough to slip into the bathrooms and lean against the door. He started to gasp and felt a wave of nausea. Anxiety from the evening, coupled with the horror of Jasper's confrontation left him weak. He leaned against the door for about 10 minutes, and when he exited, the press had moved on, apparently distracted by some commotion coming from the stage.
Edward sighed in relief when he realized Tanya had fainted and his mother was assisting her. Esme looked up just as Edward was examining the situation and winked and he realized that Tanya had faked it as a diversion. He would have to thank her later.
Edward made his way to the entrance hall and strode across it as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a run. He saw Jasper leaning against the wall of doors moments before the blond spotted him. Edward ducked his head and redirected his course to the furthest door from Jasper.
Jasper pushed away from the doors and stalked Edward's direction, face unreadable. Edward realized that Jasper would reach the door he was heading to first, so he quickened his pace and reversed course again, skirting around Jasper as he went to the opposite end of the doors. He was seconds away from losing composure entirely and tears were threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. He made it out the doors and Jasper called out.
"Wait, Edward." His voice sounded concerned. Edward stopped and swung around, swallowing down the queasiness he felt and confronting Jasper.
"What, Jasper? What do you want? Are you here to gloat? Fuck you!" Jasper halted, taken aback by Edward's fury.
"You don't have to do the charity thing, I just wanted…"
"You have no idea what my life is like, Whitlock," Edward snapped, "Of course I have to do the fucking charity thing. You bought it and paid for it, and I fucking have to do it. Do you realize what it would do to the company if I reneged on something like that? Do you have a fucking clue?" His chest was heaving with emotion. His eyes were wet with unshed tears and his face was red.
"Just pay the goddamn money and stay the fuck away from me." Edward's tone was final. He turned to leave and Jasper tried to catch him by the arm. Edward whipped around and slapped the bigger man soundly on the face.
"Don't you fucking touch me, you jackass. I can't believe you would do this. Was it revenge? Why did you fucking do it, Jasper?" a single tear slipped down onto Edward's cheek and he roughly wiped it away with his sleeve. Jasper opened his mouth to speak, but Edward raised a hand, cutting him off. The fury had melted away and dejection was on his face, "I don't even care. Just stay the fuck away from me." He repeated before turning and walking away. Jasper stood speechless, watching the smaller man's retreating form. Just then, the crowd from inside began to filter out onto the steps. Jasper was lost in a sea of suits and ball gowns, still motionless and quiet.
Edward rechecked his schedule for the 50th time. He'd settled on a date. He would work on the next shelter project which was going up in Texas in a month. The entire construction was going to take just over 3 weeks, so Edward had had to increase his workload before and after to be able to take the time off without leaving his staff holding the proverbial bag. His vacation was effectively history; Whitlock had managed to fuck up Edward's life without even knowing anything about it. Then there was the check.
It had been 2 days since the auction, and all of the money had been collected except for the $100,000 dollars that Whitlock had promised. Edward refused to collect the check himself. He would have to send Bella to get it, which he hated, but he wouldn't step within 10 miles of that… man.
He buried his face in his hands, wondering how he had let it get this far. He should swear off drinking. Better yet, he could swear off drinking and sex… well... maybe just drinking. The worst part was that he didn't regret anything about the sex, except that he had been drunk and didn't remember some parts. Definitely time to swear off drinking. Every time he thought about the act itself, especially seeing Jasper Whitlock naked, he grew painfully aroused. He did, however, regret that he'd acted so juvenilely. He regretted throwing himself at Jasper in the first place. He fucking hated himself for being so weak that he wanted a repeat performance. He couldn't believe he'd sunk so low as to offer himself up, no strings attached. He wasn't that guy. Edward would be the first to admit he wasn't perfect, but he wasn't cheap. He didn't deserve to be used and discarded, he deserved more. He craved more. The fact that Jasper Whitlock had gotten under his skin and stayed there terrified Edward,.
He looked up and saw that his clock read 5 pm. Perfect, he could go home, relax, maybe read a book. It would be the last normal workday for a long time, so he intended to make the most out of every moment. Jasper Whitlock could wait to fuck with his life for one more fucking day. Tomorrow he'd have Bella track down the jackass and get his check. If Edward Cullen was going to fucking sell himself, he'd get his fucking money before it happened.
Edward got up out of his chair and started packing his bag with the files he wanted to take home with him. He dropped a file and bent down to pick up the pages. As he was bending over, ass on display, he heard a quick indrawn breath and straightened instantly, whirling toward the door. Jasper Whitlock was standing in the doorway to his office, check in hand. He had a curiously dazed look and Edward sighed. Of course he would show up at my office, never heard of a mailbox, I suppose.
"Edward, I wanted to drop off the check in person and talk." Jasper started. Edward glared at him.
"So now you want to talk? Forget it, Whitlock. I'm busy. If you forgot, I'll be dedicating rather a large amount of my time to a charitable project, so I have a double workload starting today and continuing for the foreseeable future." Jasper's face arranged itself into something like irritated regret.
"If you need to talk about your donation, you can arrange to talk with my mother, who will be handling all new cases while I wrap up our ongoing events and donor files. If it's anything else, fuck off. I don't want to talk to you; I don't even want to see you. You can leave the check with Bella on your way out," Edward concluded, taking the wind entirely out of Jasper's sails. The blond man recognized that any reasonable conversation was out of the question, and he turned, stepping out of the office and looking around for a moment to determine who Bella was. Edward walked to the door, "Oh, and Jasper," he said. Jasper turned around, his face slightly hopeful, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass." He slammed the door as hard as he could in Jasper's face.