Chapter 5

This Poo's For You

Bella

After the necessary documents are filled out, I follow beside Georgia as she shows me around the building. Giving me the grand tour, she points out the employee restroom, saying that it would be highly recommended to use the toilet seat protectors. Apparently, the men see no need to protect their bits and pieces let alone anyone else's. This tidbit of information makes me cringe. I'm also shown the employee lounge that basically consists of a table, a fridge, and a microwave. Oh, and several pictures of half- naked women in various positions draped over motorcycles.

"Does that ever bother you?" I ask, pointing to the posters.

"Sweetheart, if half these men up in here were anywhere near those women, they'd probably piss themselves," she replies, pointing to the provocative posters." Besides, all that is just silicone and collagen and maybe a little rubber."

The both of us laugh as we make our way to the backside of the building and through a large metal door where five other men, including 'Big Daddy', are elbows deep in grease. There are several different classic cars, some hoisted on lifts while others are stationed on the ground. Off to the far end is a variety of motorcycles, a couple of which were torn down to nothing but the frames.

Georgia begins the introductions to the other employees, and it didn't escape my notice that all of them were very attractive. Some look as if they'd just walked out of a prison, sheathed in a plethora of tattoos, while a select few look like they belong in an office.

I'm introduced to Paul first. I'm told that he's was the best at what he does. Apparently, he can assemble a bike engine quicker than anyone in the county. He's rather attractive, quiet, and very polite.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Paul's greets me with a smile before he continues with his work.

Then there's Tyler. His appearance is more rugged than Paul's. His arms and neck are covered several tattoos while his face dons an eyebrow piercing, a lip piercing, and the holes in his ears resemble something out of a National Geographic magazine.

Standing next to a 79' Camaro is another guy, younger looking than the rest, watching intently as a dark haired man moves around the engine compartment of an older vehicle. I watch the pair as the older of the two shows the younger gentleman the tricks of the trade.

"That's Seth," Georgia points out. "And standing next to him is Jacob Black. Seth is his younger brother and is also an intern here at the shop. Jacob is the best when it comes to the classics."

I smile at Georgia and continue to watch the activity in the room, and as soon as the next words leave her mouth my face quickly flushes.

"Boys?" she calls out, garnering everyone's attention with eyes up front. "I'd like you all to meet Ms. Swan. She's our new receptionist. Please show her the same respect that you show me or I'll give her the run down on how to junk punch you all," she warns, lifting a brow to the group.

"Not all of us are savages, Georgia."

As soon as I hear it, that rough, familiar voice, my heart begins to race and I suddenly wish that the ground would swallow me up.

"Boss! It's good to have you back," Georgia says. "C'mere, I'd like you to meet someone."

Oh, God, please don't.

"Bella, I'd like you to meet Edward Cullen, owner of Rough Riders and your new boss," her voice sings out. "Boss, meet Bella Swan, your new receptionist."

I instantly feel ill as I turn around and try to keep the inevitable vomiting at bay. The nausea rolls and rips through my body as I stare at the face of my pissy, stubborn neighbor. Oh, no. Not just my neighbor. Nope. Edward Cullen, my neighbor from hell, is also my new boss. How the hell did this happen? I'm glued to my spot, as that question bounces around in my head, and wait impatiently for someone to jump out and reveal that I'd been punked. I'm fully aware of the stares that are coming from all sides of the room. Prying eyes at their best. With sweat pellets forming above my brow, my feet begin to move on their own accord.

"Excuse me, please."

This can't be happening! He cannot be my fucking boss!

I hurry down the hall and try to remember where the employee restroom is. When I finally find it, I throw open the door, close it behind me and try to calm my nerves. As panic crawls through my veins, I stand with my back against the restroom door. A pungent odor assaults my senses, causing my eyes to slowly travel around the small space. The smell of urine wafts through my nose, attacking every available membrane. There are discarded pieces of toilet paper splayed around the area while the sink is smeared with grease and God knows what else. When my eyes land on the toilet I just about lose the contents of my stomach. As if things can't get any worse in the 'Bathroom From Hell', I'm greeted with the sight of an unflushed toilet. Suddenly, I realize that my hands are plastered on the wall on either side of me, as I stare at an offending pile of poop. I can almost hear the theme song from the movie Psycho playing in the background.

Holy mother of God! Who does that?

Feeling my stomach lurch, I swing the restroom door open, smacking straight into something soft. My eyes snap up to meet a pair of smoky, gray eyes belonging to a handsome blonde as the awful stench continues to punch at me.

"Well hello there, darlin'," the man says in a Southern accent. "Name's Jasper Whitlock."

Goddamn, 007, move!

"Trashcan!" is all I can manage to say as I hold one hand on my stomach and throw the other one up to my mouth.

Spotting a trash can off to the side of the hallway, I charge toward it, shoving my face down into the top, releasing my morning bagel and cup of coffee I'd had for breakfast.

"Jesus, darlin', you okay?" Jasper asks with wide eyes as panic laces his gentle voice.

As my stomach grumbles and rocks, I stand straight up, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and stare at Jasper before speaking as calmly as I can. "Someone has taken a large shit in that restroom and did not flush." As quickly as the pains, lurching, rolls and grumbles hit my stomach, I thrust my face right back into the top of the can.

The soft pressure of a hand pressed at the small of my back makes me jump and causes me to knock the can over in the process.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Jasper asks. "Do you need a doctor?"

I shake my head animatedly and hold on to my upset stomach.

"Motherfucker! What in the fuck is that smell?" Emmett bellows, scanning his surroundings. "Is that? Is that puke? And part of a bagel?"

Jasper nods his head.

"And why does it smell like shit in here? Did someone take a shit in the hallway?" Emmett roars, pinching his nostrils together as he searches the floor for any evidence. "Dear, sweet baby Jesus, that stinks!"

"What's going on ov…what is that? It smells like someone blew their butthole out. What the hell, Emmett, did you throw up?" Georgia shrieks, fanning her face as she points to the poor bagel laying on the floor. "I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you threw up at the smell of poop but did you?"

Emmett swings his body around and glares at the accusing woman. "No, I did not fucking throw up! I am a man for God's sake! The smell of shit does not bother me, Georgia. I…" he says pointing to himself. "I can deal with a little bit of shit."

"Oh yeah?" Georgia folds her arms in front of her. "What about that time when…"

"Woman! If you like your job you will not say another damn word," Emmett punches out the words as his face suddenly falters with his eyes screwed shut and his lips pursed. "Hmph. I think. Goddamn. Yeah, that shit stinks."

"Oh, man, you're turning green," Jasper whispers. "Ya need the trash can?"

I watch the entire travesty play out in front of me. Why in the blazing hell couldn't I have just walked out the front door? I could've turned the job down, claiming that it really wasn't for me. At least that way I would've been able to hold my head high. But now? Now I'm stuck standing in the middle of three people I'd just met, making a complete ass out of myself.

Well, Swan, you really did it now.

Before I can stew in my own pool of pity a loud voice booms behind me, causing me to flinch.

"What in the hell is going on over here?"

"Wait! Wait! You're gonna step…" Georgia yelps a minute too late as her last words come out in a low whisper, "…in it."

I slowly turn around and witness Edward, my wretched neighbor, and owner of this loony bin, step right in a mixture of trash and vomit.

"Aw, man, that fuckin' sucks." Emmett's laugh is so loud it reverberates off the walls and bounces around every surface until it smacks me square in the forehead, causing tears to prick at my eyes.

"May I ask why I am standing in fucking vomit!"

Oh, well, yes you may. It turns out that I am a total ass hat that cannot control her stomach at the sight of male dookie sitting pretty in a toilet. Thank you very much.

"And who the fuck shit themselves!"

Three sets of eyes dart around the room until Emmett's gaze lands on me. "Tutz over there got sick."

Edward's eyes snap in my direction. His face showing a look that I can't place, while he runs a hand roughly through his hair.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking down at me.

Before I can think of any words to say, I realize I'm running for the door. Tears flow down my cheeks as quickly jump into my car and the engine roars to life.

Many hours later I'm showered, fed, and sprawled out on my living room couch, working on my fifth glass of wine. Call after call, my cell phone continues to ring and hasn't quit since I left Rough Riders. When I finally check my messages they are all from Georgia with the exception of one.

7:00 p.m.

Hey, Bella, this is Georgia over at Rough Riders. Please give me a call when you can.

Nopes. Not hapssening.

7:20 p.m.

Hey, Bella, it's Georgia again. I hope you're doing okay. Please call me back.

Fat chance, George!

7:45 p.m.

Hey, tutz, Big Daddy here! So check it out. I know that you got sick and all that but don't let it keep you from still taking the job. You're cool as fuck and we need you. And by the way, I took care of the puke. You owe me big. Just kidding.

Spanks for the support Big D. Oh, shit. Who cares!

8:10 p.m.

Okay, Bella, this is my last attempt at calling. I hope that you're feeling better. Anyway, the job is still yours if you want it. If so, meet me in the office tomorrow morning. I usually get in at nine. Oh, before I forget, Emmett threatened that if I didn't give him your number he'd rip off my nipples and feed them to the cat in the alley. I wouldn't put it past him. Okay, well, talk to you later. Feel better!

Ugh!

8:30 p.m.

Bella. It's Georgia again. Call me. Bye.

Nope!

Creeping up on my seventh glass of wine, I begin feeling all kinds of goodness as I snap my phone shut and toss it on the floor. I slowly sit up and pull my silk robe off my shoulders. Wearing only a pair of black lace boy shorts and a black lace cami, I steadily traipse over to the stairs, attempting to climb up to my bedroom. Once I make it to the staircase my doorbell begins to ring.

Wonderfuckingful!

"Who's it?"

There's no answer only the sound of the doorbell again.

"Go away!"

The doorbell blares out again, causing me to groan out loud. "Hold the fuck on!"

With my wine glass in hand, the liquid swishing and sloshing, I slowly stagger to the front door, never bothering to throw my robe back on.

"What do you wa…?"

At that moment, as soon as I see who's on the other side of the door, everything around me stops. In all my half naked glory I stand, leaning against the door frame, staring into a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

"Holy shit," Edward whispers, raking his hand through his wild locks. His eyes wide and become instantly dark. "You…um…fuck."

I stare at my next door neighbor, my breathing labored as I take in his appearance.

Son of a bitch he is fine. His dark hair is a fuck hot mess, sticking up radically in every which direction, causing my fingers to automatically twitch. The urge to reach out and run my fingers through that sexy mess is consuming. The sight of his white tank top tightly hugged his chest, defining his pecs, starts to make my mouth water. Fuck that is so sexy. My eyes trail down his rock hard torso and land on his jean covered crotch that, if I'm being honest, looks pretty damn tempting. When my gaze lands on his face, back to his deep pools of blue, I realize he's staring at me, too.

"What do you want?" I ask, taking a long sip of my drink.

"I…um…" he starts, his eyes still raking over my nearly naked form. "I just came over to see…um…see how you're doing."

I chuckle, lifting my wine glass up. "I'm doing just peeshy!"

Edward smiles at me and shakes his head. "I can see that."

"So, now that you've seen for yourself," I reply, swaying from side to side, "You can get the fuck off my property. Buh bye!" I pop my hand up and I at him, wiggling my fingers, and then flip him the bird.

"Wait, I…"

My head becomes a little too fuzzy as I try to shut the door on my asshole neighbor. When I have it almost closed, my toes get caught on the entry rug, causing me to lose my balance. My glass of wine goes flying across the foyer and into the living room, shattering against the hardwood floor. Before I can scream out, reach for some kind of support, or have time to process the mess of the situation, I feel two strong arms grab me around the waist as my body is pulled into Edward's hard chest. Holding me tight in his arms, I grip onto his firm, muscled forearms, and my nipples instantly hardened from the contact of his warm chest. A tightening begins to bubble in the pit of my stomach as his minty fresh breath washes over my face and neck, and his breathing begins to hitch.

You are so purdy.

Unconsciously, I lick my lips as I look up into his eyes. They're extremely intense as they bore into my skin, causing my entire body to ignite. A pool of moisture gathers between my legs, causing me to shift my hips around. The need for contact and friction is real as I squeeze my legs together. I let out a soft moan that catches Edward's attention.

"You okay? Can you stand?" he asks, gazing down at the tops of my partially exposed breasts.

I pull in a deep breath and nod as Edward tries to steady me.

"You got it?" he asks, watching me to sway a bit.

"I got it." Although I try to reassure him that I'm okay, once I begin to move my feet, I sway a little too much, and in a split second my body is falling sideways, heading straight for the same fate as my wine glass.

"Jesus, shit!" Edward yelps, reaching out to stop my fall again. "Goddamn, woman. You're gonna break your ass."

Held firmly in his arms, my eyelids open halfway. "What do you care?"

"If you only knew," he whispers. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Wait! What?

Edward must have noticed my panicked expression as I do the drunk wiggle in his arms.

"Calm down, woman," he growls, gripping my body tighter. "If I let you take yourself to bed, you're liable to crash down the fucking staircase."

When we're halfway up the stairs, I allow my head to rest in the crook of Edward's neck. The woodsy, earthy scent that's emanating off him wafts around my nose, causing me to lightly moan. The urge to kiss his neck is right at the top of my bucket list.

My thought process is shot to shit once Edward lays me on my bed, pulls the covers back, and throws them across my body. I feel his finger trace from my temple to my lips. I don't pull back. I just feel, and damn if it doesn't feel amazing.

I breathe out and snuggle further into my pillows, and before sleep takes over, the last words I hear whispered close to my ear cause a smile to tug at the corners of my mouth.

"Goodnight, beautiful Bella."