"It's better to feel pain, than nothing at all, the opposite of love's indifference.
So pay attention now, I'm standing on your porch screaming out, and I won't leave until you come downstairs."
-"Stubborn Love", The Lumineers
...
Chapter Five:
It took several long minutes before I could be pulled from my fiancé's tight grip, although I wasn't the only one holding on a little tighter as the seconds ticked by. After an uncounted length of time, we finally pulled away from one another; each taking a turn to wipe our wet and messy faces with a few rough napkins.
"Are you done with your coffee?" He spoke softly, his voice sounding gritty with emotion but quiet at the same time.
I silently nodded, not even bothering to glance back at my still full cup of now cooled coffee.
"Let's get those presents back to your apartment."
We clung to each other as we exited the diner, awkwardly clambering to the car through dense sheets of cold rain, neither one of us willing to relinquish our connection. I don't recall much of the quiet ride back into the city. Mike's hand was the only thing that kept my wondering mind grounded to the earth as I lost myself in the thick forest that raced passed us. His hand gripped mine in such a way that my fingers started to tingle from the lack of blood circulation. He was desperate for something, something I couldn't quite place, so I just held on as tightly as I could.
Our CD was playing quietly in the background again, a fact that I hadn't even realized until a placid and familiar voice filled the car with a sweet melody. A group I remember my father playing in the car when I was younger, when we used to take long trips to the lake.
All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The taxi's waiting, he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could cry.
I couldn't help the spontaneous smile that spread across my solemn face. I pulled my gaze away from the window and rested my head back against the headrest. My eyes fluttered shut and I remembered a happier time.
Five Years Ago…
Even though the cool air outside required the protection of a windbreaker, my palms were hot and sweaty. Angela had placed me on a bench located right outside our dorm building five minutes ago; giving my hair a last minute fix and an encouraging pat on the back before fleeing to the nearest window so she could witness the first person to die of sweaty hands and a nervous stutter.
My watch read 7:29, any minute now Mike would hopefully be walking up the steps to meet me here.
At the strike of seven thirty I was about to jump off the bench and run for the comfort of my room, knowing that he wasn't going to show up. Not for someone like me. But to my awe and amazement, he strolled up the stairs clad in a leather jacket and a pair of well-fitted jeans. He caught my eye immediately, a smile growing upon his face. I was in shock at the beauty of this boy, which left me wondering what he could possibly see in me.
"Hello," he said sounding almost like a whispered secret amongst friends, once he approached the bench, keeping his eyes on his feet.
"Hi," I blushed a scarlet red shade.
"Um…I thought we could go to the museum." His timid voice reassured me that maybe he was just as nervous as I was.
Impossible. What did he have to be nervous about?
"Oh, that sounds…" I couldn't finish my sentence before he had thrown his arms up in the air and let out a loud groan, taking me by utter surprise. His left hand rubbed roughly at the back of his neck.
"I'm so stupid! Of course you don't want to go to a museum, that's so lame. I've only been standing here for two minutes. Is it possible to have ruined everything in two minutes?" He yelled to the sky then met my eyes again.
I remained silent for a moment before I could no longer hold in my laughter. A small giggle escaped my lips when I realized that he wasmorenervous then me. I pulled his hand into mine and took a step closer.
"I love the museum." I whispered only a mere three inches from his face.
He took a small intake of breath. "O…okay," he stuttered.
We walked a short way to a local museum that lay just beyond campus grounds. I kept a small smile on my face the entire way, and he never let go of my hand.
The rest of the night was spent in constant conversation. He wanted to know personal things about my family, common details regarding my major, and even trivia information, like my favorite color. In return, I asked about his home, what he wanted for his future, and even inquired about his favorite meal for future reference. It was enchanting, just like something that I had dreamt up at night, or read straight from a fairytale. I felt like I was living out my very own Cinderella story.
When we finally strolled back to my complex he let out a loud sigh and looked at me anxiously.
"Would it be okay, I mean, can I, well can I…can I walk you to your room?" He finally managed.
I smiled, "I'd love that Mike."
I let him hold my hand as we entered the building and waited for the elevator. It didn't take long and soon it was just the two of us in the enclosed space. There was music playing softly, filling the small elevator with the sound of an acoustic guitar and a plucky bass.
I recognized the old song almost instantly. It was a tune that my dad used to whistle while we fished off the docks down in La Push. I could vaguely remember some of the words. Before I could stop my self I blurted out a random, "I love this song". It came from nowhere, and I was instantly regretting my words until he gave a small squeeze to my hand, reassuring me.
He turned to face me; leaning in closer than he had all night, and suddenly started to sing along to the lyrics of our elevator music.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go
I just stared at him and wondered if this was somehow God's way of finally making up for the shit storm that had become my life in the last two years.
Could this really be happening? And to me of all people?
His lips formed a perfect "o" shape while he held the last note of the song. I could not take my eyes off of him.
Quickly I leaned in, closing the last inch of space between us and planted a very spontaneous kiss right on his lips, without warning or hesitation.
The doors opened a moment later and I quickly pulled my mouth from his and stepped out of the elevator just as they were about to close again. He slammed his hand against it, quickly grabbing my hand before I could get more than a step away from him, and pulled me back between the opening where he stood.
Cradling me in his arms, he crushed his lips to mine and I felt something that I thought I would never feel again with a boy…a man. I felt a spark. And for just a second I no longer felt broken.
As the trees faded away and the bumpy roads turned to paved highway, Mike held my hand and sang to me just like I was 21 and he was my Prince Charming once again. Everything was right in the world for that moment.
~ ooOoo ~
To say the conversation took a more positive note once we got back to my apartment in the city would have been a lie. Michael was just about at his wit's end and I was a tad bit concerned that he was actually going to cause some serious bodily harm to Edward. I could not deal with that on top of everything else that's occurred in the last twenty-four hours.
My phone kept up a constant ring as each individual Cullen tried their best to get ahold of me while Mike and I tried to hash out our differences over a bottle of cheap white wine and a six-pack of foreign beer he liked to keep in my refrigerator.
"I forbid you from going over there." He shouted at me as I sat amidst a growing pile of wrapping paper.
All I wanted to do when we reached my small apartment, was pop two aspire in my mouth, break open a bottle of cheap Chardonnay to help wash them down, and drown in a sea of wrapping paper, dish towels and lingerie hidden underneath delicate pink and silver tissue.
Mike however, had different plans as he stormed into my building's elevator, each of us disappearing among an armful of gift boxes and pretty bags overflowing with tissue paper. He wouldn't take his hands from me for even a moment, needing a constant skin-to-skin connection. Which, if you were wondering, is nearly impossible while trying to balance a dozen fragile presents in your arms. And while it may have been comforting to him, it only made me feel worse. I was severely irritated with the whole situation, feeling especially vulnerable after sharing my deepest secrets. My fiancé's usually comforting touches made my skin crawl, especially remembering a similar time when a man needed my body to make him feel better. Every time he caressed my face, gripped my elbow, or wrapped his arms around my waist I couldn't help but feel a different pair of hands that meant to hurt not help, to bruise not comfort.
I shuttered, feeling even more disgusted with myself for ever comparing Mike to Edward, in any sense.
From the moment the front door closed behind us, Mike's eyes lit with the same blue fire I saw at the diner, and our disagreements quickly filled the small space with loud voices.
I had not uttered a single word at first, letting him follow me around the layout of my apartment, spewing words of hate towards both Edward and the Cullen's. He even went as far as to bring my father into the whole ordeal. Angry tears clouded my eyes as he explained the pain he felt for me, however they dried quickly as he started back in on his plans to avenge my honor.
The way in which he spoke and the words he used surprised me and yet in some way they were completely predictable. I imagine this is the way any boyfriend would react had they just been informed of the abuse their beloved had endured at the hands of another. Nonetheless, I remained silent as he continued, truly at a loss for any words of my own.
Watching him pace around the room, yelling as his eyes filled to the brim with angry tears that had, up until this point in our relationship, been present only in the hours before the BAR exam. Seeing them begging me to respond in someway to his actions put me at a loss. Once again all I could do was stare into his gaze and see right passed him into a pair of green eyes that looked much the same, disheveled, confused, angry, vastly saddened by grief, nerves, and vehement helplessness, all mixed together in one mess of a broken and tear stained person.
Mike was grieving for me the same way I grieved for myself seven years ago. That is why I kept quiet. I knew all too well that he needed nothing but a moment to let all his emotions rage and to not be alone as every one of them crashed over him making it feel like he would never be able to come up for air. So I sat on my living room floor with a notebook and a pen, making sure to write every name and corresponding present I opened down on a new line. I was half way through jotting down Angela Baker, blender, when that last remark left his mouth.
His shouted order still echoed off the walls as he collapsed on the floor opposite of me, an old coffee table the only thing separating us. He bowed his head into his hands, looking defeated at last. Placing my pen down, I stood on my knees, which gave me enough leverage to lean over the table between us and push his gorgeous hair away from his flushed face. Tears ran furiously down his cheeks. He would not raise his head, so I moved my hand down under his chin and with a firm grip tilted his face up towards mine.
His beautiful blue eyes were surrounded by redness and puffy skin, the way I usually looked after a marathon afternoon of Grey's Anatomy.
"What do we do now?" He whispered in a voice that pleaded for me to know the right answer. I gave him the best smile I could manage considering the situation at hand and began to wipe the wetness form his face with my free hand.
"I don't really know." I shrugged. I had been trying to answer that question for seven years now, and still I had no good answer. " I guess we try and move on from this. We confront our demons and live out the rest of our days in jubilance. That's all we can do." Even as the words came out I didn't know if I believed them.
~ ooOoo ~
I woke up to another bright sunny morning, the rainy gloom of the day before long gone. I felt lighter after Mike left last night, like I could accomplish and overcome anything with him by my side, even my long struggle with the demon I spoke so seriously about.
Getting out of bed, I went searching through my closet, deciding on a simple navy blue cotton dress, with some appropriate height nude heels to start my day. A risky move, considering my balance issues but I was feeling determined as I slipped them on and opened my bedroom window to let the warm summer air fill the room.
With a steamy cup of Chamomile in my favorite thermos, my old leather book bag, and my outdated Blackberry I walked out the door only stopping to eye my still full prescription box before marking another day off the calendar hanging in my kitchen.
Five days.
Walking along the streets of Seattle in the morning was like walking the streets of Paris at night to me. There was something for everyone. Tall churches for the religious, five star restaurants for the foodies, fully stocked bookstores and libraries for my fellow bookworms, and a coffee house on every corner for the caffeine addicts of this great city.
Just as I'd turned onto 2nd Avenue, my phone started to ring a familiar chorus of Bennie and the Jets.
"Hello," I answered, waiting for the crosswalk sign before me to turn green.
"Bella, where are you?" Alice's voice sounded tried and worried from the other end of the line. I cringed remember the way we left things yesterday.
"Um… I'm just about to get on Spring Street." I said hoping she wasn't furious with me from the sound of her withdrawn voice.
"Oh, never mind… its just…could you do me a favor?"
I was at a loss for words, but only for a moment. "Sure Alice. What is it?"
"Can you go pick me up a cappuccino from Starbucks, and three black coffees?" I could hear her scrambling with something over the phone.
"Yeah Alice why not, I mean I'd love to help fuel the countries growing capitalists' funding." I answered sarcastically, thrilled when I heard a snort of laughter come from the other end.
"Thanks Bella, see you soon." She hung up and I quickly backtracked a block to the nearest popular chain coffee shop.
Walking into an overcrowded Starbucks was like the kiss of death for me. Alice swore by the stuff. However, I would find myself crossing the street, just to avoid that flashy green sign. Alice though, for as long as I can remember, was drinking frappuccinos with ten different words in the title and lattes that tasted more like hot chocolate than actual coffee, all with that stupid mermaid plastered on the cup.
The smell of cheap coffee loomed in the air as I entered the large café. People of all ages buzzed around with their too long to pronounce beverages. Young college students saved seats for their friends in the back by the outlet plugs, pulling their sticker covered, multicolored laptops from their overstuffed satchels. Middle-aged men in business suits littered the window seats. Each had an issue of the New York Times spread out on the table before them, a half eaten pastries on the side, and a cup of scolding black java. Lovers occupied the many booths, on coffee dates or just out and about, spending some time in each other's company before they were dragged back to the real world of paper pushing and cubical.
I stood at the end of the mile long line and wait, checking my watch every thirty seconds to see if time has magically gone faster. I watch the people around me intently, wondering how they had become part of the mass hysteria that has turned into this billion-dollar franchise. The woman in front of me checked her phone for the fifth time and huffed before reluctantly exiting the growing line. As soon as the women left, I was left to stare at the back of the man in front of me closely. He looked around the same age as me, distressed jeans, flannel shirt, a well worn black book bag hung from his shoulder and a ball cap covered his head of dark brown hair. He glanced at his watch once, twice, a third time before whipping his head around to glance at the crowded tables. It was at this moment I went in for the kill.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but if you're looking for some goodSeattle coffee, there's a coffee house just a block down. It's on the corner you can't miss it. Order a plain and you won't be sorry." I preached about coffee like it was religion.
He stared at me for a moment, doing on of those full body head to toe glances, then smiled and without saying a word walked straight out the door. A feeling of pride surged through me knowing I had just given someone the experience of tasting a true cup of Seattle coffee.
"Is that how you get all the guys out of line, by flirting with them?" His smooth and familiar voice came from behind me as he spoke into my ear.
I turned around quickly, catching sight of those infamous grass green eyes. "Edward? " It came out as a surprised sounding question, much to my dismay.
"Bella." He addressed me calmly, and as if on command the scent of spearmint and musk hit me like a wall.
I couldn't tear my eyes always from the man standing behind me. No longer the young boy I knew as a teenager. The man staring back at me was a completely different person from the jeans and flannel shirt clad Edward with whom I fell in love. There was no vintage concert t-shirt to be found or a pair of worn down converse. No, this Edward was all grey and black, looking like a fashion model straight out of a magazine in his three-piece suit and polished shoes.
The light grey suit that adorned his body fit like a glove, hugging his defined features in all the right places, not a hem out of place. His crisp black tie was tucked neatly into the matching gray vest, drawing my eyes to his chest.
"Like something you see Swan?" He chuckled and I instantly snapped my gapping mouth shut. My face flushed red in morbid embarrassment as I met his eyes.
He leaned in, slowly towards me, getting closer and closer to my face with each breath of spearmint I inhaled. I could feel his warm breath on my face, causing my heart's rhythm to go haywire. My eyes bobbed erratically between his sparkling eyes, his slicked back hair, and his slightly parted pink lips.
"You're next," he whispered, never breaking our heavy eye contact.
"Excuse me?"
"Next!" A cashier yelled behind me. I nearly jumped out of my uncomfortable shoes, taken by surprise by the abrupt voice.
Suddenly remembering where I was, why I was here, and what had just transpired between me and the man who had my fiancé in tears just a few hours ago, made me quickly draw in a much need breath of coffee tainted air. I slowly turn myself back around and headed for the impatient and overworked looking cashier.
I spewed my order to the boy behind the counter. I paid him quickly and made my way to the other end of the long marble bar where I was to wait for my order. I kept my eyes far away from the gaze of Edward Cullen.
However, that did not stop me from feeling his eyes burning into the back of my head the entire time I stood there. I had only a moment to myself before he was at my side again. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I saw him leaning casually against the wall closest to me, looking like fucking Bradley Cooper.
"You know I thought your inner hipster would physically repel you from this place, let along actually allow you to consume anything with a Starbucks logo on the side of the cup." I couldn't help but smirk as I tilted my head to the side to meet his amused face.
"I could say the same thing about you Swan. Never thought you'd take capitalism's side. Plus, I know how you like your tea. And speaking of hipsters, does your typewriter know you're here?" He laughed at his own joke and I couldn't help the small smirk that pulled at the corner of my mouth.
"I'm just doing your sister's dirty work. And I thank you to leave my typewriter out of this conversation."
He smirked at me from his place against the wall.
"I guess something's never change," he muttered, running his hands through his already pushed back hair.
I look at him for a moment, giving him the once over while thinking about what he said. My drink order was called and I went to retrieve the cardboard drink holder filled with cups of steaming coffee. Drinks in hand, I head for the door but turn around abruptly walking back to where Edward stood holding a coffee cup in each hand.
"You know," Press myself closer to him than I had been in years and I'm surprised to find that I can allow myself to be in such close proximity to the man who brought me years of pain, heartbreak and mental anguish. It perplexed me, especially since a small part of me longed to reach out and touch his suit-clad chest.
"Some things don't ever change, but there's more to me than typewriters and books these days." I turn without a second glance.
Once I was out in the warm city air, I could not believe what had just occurred within a few minutes of standing in a coffee shop. I ran my free hand through my tangled curls, feeling confused and slightly disgusted by my actions. Weren't there enough coffee places in this city that I could safely travel to one without running into my ex-fiancé?
Yesterday, I could barely stand being within a few feet of Edward Cullen, and today I felt like I could not get close enough. What was wrong with me? Anger ran through my veins as I came to a standstill waiting for the crosswalk sign to indicate it was safe to cross the bustling street.
Edward always had made me feel this way. When I was with him all I wanted to do was push myself against him and feel his arms around me, his whispered words filling my ear in the most innocent way, making my blood sing beneath my skin. But when he left me and I found myself alone in my room, I would instantly feel completely different about the time we spent together. When I thought about it, he was the one who had pulled my body to his, his arms reminded me more of a cage than a loving embrace, and those whispered words were never actually sweet nothings exchanged by lovers. Rather, they were hurtful, coercing phrases he tried to get into my head.
I thought I might be sick right in the middle of the street. My emotions were out of control and it made me want to pull at my hair and scream into the air. Instead I let out a ragged sigh of hot and anger air, turning back to the windows of the café. From my spot on the curb of the street I could see Edward make his way through the crowded area of tables and chairs, his head turned to stare out the window, our eyes meeting for a moment before he turned away and sat down at a table opposite a woman I'd never seen before this moment.
From my place across the street I stared at the curvy, blonde haired, woman. Her smile lit up her whole face as Edward placed a cup of coffee in front of her. Her blue green eyes shone as she reached out and placed her hand on top of Edward's. She leaned in and said something to him and suddenly they both look like their laughing heartily.
I finally tore my eyes from Edward and his suit and the pretty blonde who cradled her cup of coffee. My stomach turned and my tongue suddenly felt like sandpaper.
"What is wrong with you?" I mutter to myself, making my way down the street.
I spotted Alice at the corner of Denny and Fairview, our usually meet up place. However, unlike most mornings, this meeting was awkward, the tension hung heavy in the warm air. I passed the cardboard container filled with coffee over to Alice who looked more pale and disheveled than usual. Not her ordinarily put together and made up self.
She barely whispered a 'thank you' and pressed a twenty-dollar bill into my hand even after I refused to take her money.
"Bella, please just take it. It's the least I can do after what my brothers, father, and whole family have put you and Mike through yesterday let alone the last ten years." She readjusted the hot pink bag she had swung over her shoulder, in a nervous fashion that also seemed out of place for my best friend.
"Alice, I-", she quickly cut me off.
"No Bella, I just need to get this out of the way. I know I haven't been acting like myself lately and it's getting in the way of my relationships with the people I care for. So just take my money, let me say I'm sorry, and allow me to bring a few cartons of ice cream over tonight so we can binge on empty calories and watch entirely too many episodes of Sex and the City.
I stared at Alice for a moment, taking in her puffy red eyes, dull looking skin, and ragged hair. There was more to Alice than designer bags and pink nail polish, and I'm ashamed to say it took me years to figure that out. It was moments like these when Alice was hurting in some way or the other that it became my turn to make things right.
"Of course. I could use your eye on a few last minute wedding details too." I pulled out the widest and perkiest of my smiles for show, hoping to spark a light in my friend's dead eyes.
She smiled, but it barely reached her eyes. "Sounds great Bella, thanks again for the coffee."
She leaned in and gave me a small peck on the cheek. Her lovely floral scent filled my nose in the most familiar ways, and I realized that I had missed Alice. Even after all the time we've spent together in the last few weeks to make my dream wedding a reality, she had felt distant for a while now. I knew in my head why that was, but I could bring up our past grievances now.
"Alice," I say as she pulled away form me, "you know that I love you, right?"
"Of course Bella, I love you too." She grabbed a hold of my hand, giving it one good squeeze before mouthing a silent 'goodbye' and making her way down the street.
I let out a large sigh staring at my best friend as she made her way to work.
The Cullen family was slowly killing me, I tough to myself as I finally made my way to work, already fifteen minutes late.
~ ooOoo ~
"Sorry I'm late Char, did that guy from the Senator's office call?" I called over to the tall woman hovering over a stack of newspapers inside a small corner office overlooking downtown Seattle
Charlotte Weaver was her name, and I am convinced she was one of the most beautiful women living in Seattle. With blazing red hair, and an attitude that didn't always sit well with those she set her eyes on, she was a genius with a pen and pad of paper. She also happened to scare the hell out of my Yale degree and me.
Charlotte was a thirty-two year old prodigy, well known amongst the close knit literary circles, those who practically ran this city's paper trail, for her cutthroat demeanor and controversial headliners. She was also one of my many bosses at the Times. She transferred in from Chicago to head our editorial department and surprisingly somewhere along the line we became good friends.
"No, but you did get four other calls that were sent right to my line because apparently nine o'clock now means nine fifteen to everyone around here but me." I rolled my eyes as I stood in the doorway of her office. "Charlie called asking if he could get out of his last suit fitting, one from Mike's brother wanting to know if he can get a stripper for the bachelor party, and two from some guy named…Edward?" She double checked the post it note that had been stuck on the desk next to her phone, making sure she got the name correct.
I sighed. "I am so sorry about that Char, things are kind of hectic." I steal the post it from her desk and make my way over to my cubical.
She follows me, one hand twirling a sharp number two between her fingers while the other held a steaming cup of coffee. "Yeah, well you better pull it together before you take two weeks off for your honeymoon."
"I know," I sighed glancing over at the large pile of papers starting to stack up on my desk, all of which needed to be taken care of before I left on Thursday.
"Also, I need the rough draft of your article on my desk by the end of the day."
I could hear the phone start ringing form within her office. She raised her coffee mug in my direction as if to say 'good luck' and headed back to her post.
"Oh, I almost forgot, there's some big hairy guy in the conference room waiting for you." She jerked her head towards the door next to her office and quickly disappeared to take a phone call.
"I really don't need this right now. I better be getting the world's best wedding present for what they put me though." I muttered under my breath as I headed towards the conference room.
I open the door, to find Emmett spinning at a rapid pace in one of the large, leather, swivel chairs at the head of the long, wooden table.
"Emmett!" I yelled, and he abruptly stopped the circling.
"Bella! I've been waiting for you for like an hour, where have you been?"
"I got…hung up. What are you doing here Emmett?" I took a deep breath, wondering if I will be able to find any normalcy in this day. I downed the rest of my now chilled, herbal tea, regretting not throwing in a splash or two of vodka to help me make it through this hellish day.
He jumped up from the chair and paced nervously towards the window. "I need your help." He spoke softly, cracking his knuckles out of habit. I cringed at the sound.
"Okay, with what?" I took a seat at the opposite end of the table, finally getting a chance to put my bags down.
"Um," he took a shaky breath, "I have a name…I mean for the baby." He sighed finally getting it out. His shoulders shrugged in relief.
"That's it?" I didn't mean to yell, but my tone came off sharp and unwelcoming.
After everything that had happened this weekend, all the drama and avoidance, all he has to say to me was this?
"What do you mean that's it? I've been a nervous wreck all weekend trying to tell Rosalie, and when I come to find help from my best friend I get yelled at!" He stomped his foot like a five year old against the carpeted floor.
I'm speechless as I rise to my feet.
After a moment of hesitation I finally speak. "Okay, Emmett we can talk about it, but not right now. I've got tons of work to do before I can even think about leaving for my honeymoon, and in all honestly, I've seen one too many members of the Cullen family today, and it isn't even noon yet." Grabbing his arm forcefully, using all the strength I had, I dragged him to the door.
"Wait…have you seen Edward today?" He suddenly became very serious, but I could not handle another one of these conversations and abruptly slammed the door in his face.
"Ah!" I cried out loudly, crumbling into the nearest chair, trying to rub the stress from my temples. This day was turning out to be impossible. I'd be lucky if I got anything accomplished this entire week.
Just as I was about to go dig into a pile of growing articles, my cellphone rang out from my backpack. I scrambled out of my seat, searching the pockets frantically before finally finding the screaming device wedged between a granola bar I was dying to eat and a foreboding looking bottle of iron supplements that I was purposely ignoring.
"What!" I yelled down the receiver, not caring at the moment who might be on the other line.
"Hey Bella babe, has anyone every told you, you sound incredibly sexy when you're angry. What's eating you? Besides my brother that is…" James Newton snickered at me from the other end of the line of this untimely and highly undesirable call. My day suddenly got a lot worse.
As future brother-in-laws go, James could possibly be the worst trade off within this marriage. He was two years older then Mike, but acted about six years younger than him. At the ripe age of twenty-eight, he was a part time bar owner, full time smartass. He was one of those guys who lived their lives by the imaginary "man code", like those douchebags in the movies. Because of this so-called "man code" James had been making my life a living hell for the last five years. His hatred has progressed to irritating love since he realized that his brother was serious about settling down with one woman. However, I was quickly starting to think I liked being hated more than loved.
"So doll face, I heard through the grapevine that you vetoed the stripper." I could hear the bells and whistles of a pinball machine in the background. I remembered the exact one that sat in his bar. We went to the bar a couple of years ago, located in south Washington, and I'm happy to say I haven't been back since.
"James, first I have a name, second no means no, if you can't comprehend that get a dictionary!" I was burning a very short fuse and talking to James was like adding an extra dose of gasoline.
Just as I was about to hang up on him, my phone stated buzzing against my face, indicating another call coming through. I practically growled, wondering when this fresh hell would end.
"James, go get a dictionary, I'll be right back."
Taking a deep breath I put Jace on hold and answered the other call. I began to pace back and forth around the conference table. "Good morning, Isabella Swan," I answered as perky as possible.
"Hello Ms. Swan, my name is Rachel Marsh; I'm a journalist at Seattle Magazine. I have a few friends over at the Times and I heard through some mutual acquaintances that you're quite an up and comer over there.
I had to sit back in my chair for fear that I might fall over from the whiplash this day was giving me.
"Well, that's incredibly kind of your acquaintances to say. How may I be of service to you Ms. Marsh?"
"Well I read the article about your upcoming nuptials a few months ago and I wanted to know if you would possibly be interested in doing an interview for our next issue."
I stared opened mouthed at the wall in front of me.
Around the same time that we announced our engagement to everyone, some of the people in the 'living' department insisted on writing an article on Mike and I for the society page. I didn't want anything to do with it, but when Mike's mother caught word of being presented, in her words, "with such an honor", I couldn't refuse.
The next month Mike's and my smiling faces were splashed on the front page of the section, right along side a bunch of snobby looking sons and daughters to the social lights of Seattle. It was one article that I did not clip out.
"Pardon?" I managed to squeak out, not sure if she was on the phone with the right person.
"Would you like to be in Seattle Magazine?" Yes, I had heard her correctly the first time. "We're doing a lovely spread on the working women of Seattle and you would be perfect!" She nearly shrieked.
Sitting speechless for the next minute, I tried to think of a million different ways to politely say 'no', but all I could come up with was, "I'll have to call you back."
I rocked back and forth in my swivel chair, trying to mentally fathom how such a seemingly normal morning had gone so wrong. First Alice, than Edward and the unknown blonde girl, Charlotte, James, and now the Seattle Magazine, it was sheer madness.
"Fuck me," I state, remembering just a moment too late that I still had my pervert, soon to be brother-in-law on the other line. Putting him back on the phone I was met with the sound of that stupid pinball machine again. I made a snap decision and quickly hung up for the sake of my sanity. Fed up with everything running over an over through my head, I finally collected my bags and exited the conference room.
"Hey Charlotte," I called to my boss as I set my things down at my desk for the first time all morning. I felt her approach me from behind. "You'll never guess who just called me."
"Who?" Came the deep and smooth voice that would not leave me along this morning.
I shrieked, jumping around so I was suddenly face to face with the tall and handsome man I just left at the coffee shop.
It definitely was not Charlotte.