Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter 14 Seminal Occasion
BPOV
I wave my financial advisor out the door and transfer my attention back to the stack of papers he's left me.
I spend a fortune on clothes, my hair, my nails and myriad beauty products and regimens. My apartment cost more than some small companies, I donate as much charity each year and my car was six figures, but I'm still worth an embarrassingly large amount of money. Callum, my advisor, is getting increasingly frustrated with me for not investing it properly. I do invest some but frankly its too much like what I do all day anyway and I just can't be bothered. I own a couple of buildings in New York and even one in London, what the hell else do I need? And even if shares in Cask went down to a cent each I'd still be worth a cool million, just what kind of fiscal disaster is he trying to prepare me for? I'm pretty sure if the world ever gets that bad I'd be better off buying a Kalashnikov than a vineyard in Tuscany. Although at least I could be very drunk, very often.
With a sigh I shove it all in my top drawer and close it, I like to keep something back to worry about later.
The intercom buzzes.
"Bella, I have Matt Alsten on line one."
"Hi Matt, what can I do for you?"
"Bella, thank god, you wouldn't believe what's happened now!"
Oh here we go, I like Matt and he's very good at his job, but sometimes I feel like I ought to swaddle him in blankets and give him a pacifier . . . .
...
Done with that drama I get back to work only to be disturbed an hour later when my office doors burst open and a clothes rack sweeps in. Ladies and Gentleman, Aro is in the building.
"Jesus Aro." I grumble. "Its only one measly dinner."
"My Belle Bella, you poor uneducated child, thank god I am here to help you." He declares, emerging from behind the rack. "The ball you are attending is the seminal occasion in the racing and Kentucky social calendar. It is not just dinner and it is not just dancing. There will be billionaires, millionaires, playboys, socialites, owners, trainers and jockeys in attendance, the cream of whom you already know. And of course one very photogenic veterinarian. It is vitally important that you do not let me down in such illustrious company.
Now, to business, the world's finest are of course clamouring to dress you for the occasion and I have very graciously made some pre-selections on your behalf. Colors and styles that make you look good and photograph well."
The clothes rack of doom is wheeled into my 'closet' and with a sigh of defeat I follow it.
"Before we begin, do you know what color he likes on you?"
"Aro, I don't know what the fuck Rose has told you about this 'seminal occasion' but it isn't a date."
His dark eyes bore into mine and I cave.
"He once mentioned liking blue." I confess, flushing up since it was my underwear Edward was referring to at the time and he had his face buried in it . . . .
"Light blue, dark blue . . . ."
"Light."
"Sky blue, powder blue, periwinkle, turquoise, baby blue . . . ."
"Really Aro?" I growl, attempting to regain the upper hand. "They're all light blue."
"Never mind." He drawls, taking it back. "I'm going to take an intuitive leap and go with the light blue you always favour. And you'll need diamonds with it."
He unzips one of the garment bags theatrically and I have to admit that for the first time in ages I'm anxious to see what he's picked . . . .
...
"You're several percentage points below your projected sales." Felix purrs, flicking up a slide to illustrate his point.
"The market has been a lot less buoyant than anyone was expecting."
"Most of our markets have been stagnant but no one else is doing quite as badly as you." Felix insists, glowering across the table at Charles who heads one of our newest ventures.
I stifle a laugh, Felix can be quite scary when he wants to be.
"Felix, Bella, you need to understand . . . ."
And he's off, blithely unaware that I've heard all those excuses before, even used a couple of them myself.
I let him run on for a while, just in case there's anything new and then I interrupt him.
"Charles, I understand all of that but the fundamental problem is you fucked up your marketing campaign. I'm a woman and I wouldn't be caught dead with this product in my shopping cart if you paid me. Everything else you've done here is good work. Take this as a development point, learn to accept when you're not good at something and buy in the talent that is."
"Bella, there was no budget for . . . ."
"Budgets can be adjusted Charles, if you have a good justification, and I didn't expect a start up to get it completely right. Next time don't wait until it goes wrong, talk to me, let me help you."
...
"You went very easy on him." Felix observes as we ride down in the elevator.
"He's got talent and vision, no sense crushing him on his first run out of the blocks. Experience is a great teacher. The real test now is whether or not he listened to what I was trying to tell him. A lot of promising people fail because they can't or won't listen."
"I have so much to learn." Felix confesses.
"Its not rocket science F, look, listen and learn as The Old Man used to say, lunch?"
"Hotdog?"
"Yum. See how much you've learned already?"
...
Diamonds.
I have some. The Old Man gave them to me the first time I completed an acquisition on my own. They frightened the shit out of me and I put them in a bank vault. But they were beautiful.
Would it be too ostentatious to wear them?
Aro, Rose and Char say no, especially as all the other women at the 'seminal occasion' will be dripping in them.
...
I haven't been in my safety deposit box for years and as soon as I open it I remember why.
I put other stuff in with the diamonds to justify the expense of storing them.
Disneyland tickets, summer of seven year old self.
Pearls. The ones Mom and Phil gave me when I graduated High School.
My corsage from Prom, dried and pressed.
A framed picture of Rose and me at Fresher's Week, grinning like the fools we were.
Charlie's badge.
My college acceptance letter.
Edward's MVP Trophy, he was starting quarterback for a couple of seasons in college. And some sheet music, he said he wrote me a song but it could be a computer program for all I know.
Grandma Swan's silver cruet set, Charlie gave it to me when I moved to New York.
The gear knob from the venerable old truck he helped me buy in High School.
The Dream Catcher Mom gave me when I was packing to leave home.
A baseball Phil signed for me just two days before they left for their ill fated vacation in New York.
I only notice the leather box containing the diamonds when a tear drops on it.
I lift it out and open the lid, picking up the hand written card from The Old Man.
Isabella
You made an excellent acquisition this week and I am extremely proud of you.
These are a token of that pride, because they are beautiful and you deserve them.
Please proceed with your first attempt at returning them to me and explaining why they are an inappropriate gift, I am looking forward to it most eagerly.
RRC
I tried to give them back for a month before I eventually had to give up, he was a formidable opponent and a prodigiously stubborn when he wanted to be. I even tried taking them back to Harry Winston but they just re-delivered them the next day with an apologetic note explaining that they had been instructed to do so ad infinitum if required.
I've never worn them, thinking in the back of mind that a good enough reason to would present itself someday.
I'm not sure a weekend with Edward where I may, or may not, be tempted to sleep with him again qualifies but god knows what else I'm saving them for.
And they are beautiful, sparkling in the overhead lights.
I hesitate for a moment and then snap the box shut, shoving it in my purse.
...
Rose's words are rattling around in my head as I board the flight to Louisville.
Edward's never really been out of my life, just less prevalent in it than he was in college and that was inevitable I suppose, as we grew up and went on with our lives. It certainly made it easier to separate friendship from physical intimacy.
But that line is getting blurred again for some reason and I'm not sure how worried about it I should be. No one wants to get hurt but perhaps I'm worrying about nothing, it's just Edward, us. I still know better than to expect anything from him beyond what we have and Rose is right, it's not like I'm looking to settle down. We're adults, why shouldn't we be friends with benefits if we both enjoy it and no one else seems remotely bothered by it?
Nevertheless I am equal parts excited and nervous about this weekend. Unsure how to behave or what to expect. Not a familiar sensation in recent years but not necessarily a bad one, it sort of proves I'm not the emotional blank space Jake once accused me of being . . . .
...
I see him as soon as I clear the baggage claim, lounging against a pillar and scowling down at his cell.
Grumpy looking Edward can be quite hot, he gets this little kink between his heavy eyebrows that hints at his inner caveman.
But when he looks up and spots me approaching his face relaxes into a beaming smile that just has to be returned.
...
His apartment is nothing like I imagined, turns out one of his clients is a British architect who helped him design a barn conversion, and I do mean barn, some of the old stalls are still on the ground floor but instead of housing horses they're now home to his cars and assorted sports paraphernalia. Apparently the locals all think he's bat shit crazy when there are plenty of perfectly good houses around, but I love it on sight.
Upstairs is simply laid out and all open plan apart from the bathroom. Light streams in through the huge windows illuminating the old waxed wood of the floor so the whole place literally glows.
"You like?" He asks with a grin as I twirl slowly on the faded rag rug in the middle of the living area.
"I love. It's amazing Edward."
I don't know how but his massive quantities of man technology and the seriously modern kitchen don't even jar with the old wood and fittings.
"How?" I ask, wondering about load bearing walls, fire places and plumbing in what was essentially a wooden agricultural building that looks like it was built a century ago.
"Some of the supporting beams aren't exactly as 'wood' as they look. Derek is a genius."
"I'll say."
We lapse into silence as I wonder what to say next and he watches me.
"Do you have a guest room?" I ask eventually, even though I can guess what the answer is going to be.
"No." He says, moving toward me. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"I don't know." I reply honestly, looking up as he comes to a stop looking down at me.
"I want you Bella. I always want you. But I didn't invite you here just for that."
"You didn't?" I ask, eyes drawn to his lips.
"No." They say somewhat huskily. "I've loved spending time with you again and I thought we'd both enjoy going to the ball together."
"You said it was a big dinner." I accuse them.
"And so it is, but there will also be dancing." They inform me, quirking into a crooked grin.
"Oh." Is the best I can manage as they press together enticingly for a moment.
"I am going to kiss you now." They announce quietly as they advance. "Unless you have any objections to the setting on this occasion?"
"Um . . . . mmm . . . ."
My eyes close, my stomach flips over, my knees wobble and my toes curl as the lips move deliberately but easily over mine, parting them gently so that his tongue can slip through . . . .
When they withdraw some time later my eyes flutter open to view the most spectacular type of quicksand.
It's smiling at me in a way that suggests that it's perfectly well aware that it's just scrambled my mind.
"The car's picking us up in two hours." It says stepping back. "Do you want to shower first, or shall I?"
Together! My body screams.
"I'll go first if that's okay?" My brain suggests, buying time.