Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter 17 Sum Tings Wong
BPOV
Without being forced I log onto my laptop, checking out the pictures of the ball but deliberately not reading the ludicrous column inches given over to the fanciful imaginings of us finding 'love'. Though my mouse does keep scrolling back to the picture of us, kissing, at Louisville airport.
I shouldn't have let him kiss me in such a public place it's just fuelled a furore on a Sunday that's clearly a slow news day for the 'celeb' industry.
I shouldn't have done it because they'll be hounding him now. And I shouldn't have done it because though I'm unsure what's happening between us this time, if anyone finds out we're not 'dating' in the generally accepted sense of the word they're going to be speculating about shit I care about, and it's going to hurt.
I close the browser and sip my beer.
Work Bella. Focus. Concentrate . . . .
My cell chirps.
'You get back okay? x'
'Yes thanks, you?'
'Safe and sound. Going to bed now, you tired me out ;o)'
'Night Edward x'
'Night Bella xx'
Five minutes later it rings, flashing Rose's face at me.
"Hi."
"Hi. So?"
"So, what?"
"How was your date?"
I sigh, accepting defeat.
"It was good thanks. Great even."
"You make a cute couple."
"You've been looking at the pictures?" Shit, busted, I wince and she laughs.
"Seems I'm not the only one. That's quite a PDA they captured at the airport."
"He was saying goodbye." I snicker.
"Yeah, nothing says goodbye like fistfuls of each other's hair and some serious tonsil hockey."
We laugh together for a while and then I groan.
"I shouldn't have done that."
"Yes." She chuckles. "You should have, it's about time you peed on his leg."
"Ew, that's a lovely visual."
"Apt though, so, Thanksgiving . . . ."
...
Reports, reports, reports.
I wonder what they'd say if I threw my door open and skipped down the halls flinging them at people with maniacal cackling?
Tempted to find out, but no, it probably wouldn't do the share price any good.
The next line I'm trying to read blurs before my eyes yet again and I huff in frustration, my concentration is shot to shit today.
Not that last week was much better.
My mind's not on Cask. And it's not entirely on Edward either, though frankly it's been going there rather a lot. It's just, all over the place. And it's making me cranky. I cannot wait to get through this week and into next, thank god for Thanksgiving.
Nope. Still blurred.
Lauren jumps when I open my door.
"Going out?" She asks.
Stupid question since I've already got my coat on and am winding a scarf around my neck.
"Yeah, I'm gonna take an early lunch, I need some fresh air."
"Should I call Demetri?"
"No, I won't be gone long, will you let him know though please?"
"Will do."
"Want me to pick you up something to eat?" I ask as I punch the button for the elevator.
"Thanks, but no, I have a lunch date."
"Hmm. Anyone I know?"
She shakes her head as the doors open.
"Have fun." I call over my shoulder as they close behind me.
I'd never be able to sneak out like this if Char was still here but Felix isn't one of my best friends and he has me on a much longer leash . . . .
...
Wednesday.
My early lunches have become something of a habit, one that clears my head and just about gets me through the rest of day, nevertheless it hasn't worked today.
Hump Day.
Still, this time next week . . . .
My laptop dings and I glance at it with a complete lack of interest until I spot the incoming mail is from Edward A Cullen.
Which makes me smile.
He's not exactly inundating me but we've spoken, emailed or texted every couple of days. Inane stuff and harmless flirting mostly. I'm enjoying it though.
Subject: Midnight Sun
This is the horse Laurent would like you to buy . . . .
E
xx
Subject: Pretty Horse
What the hell am I going to do with a horse?
B
Subject: Re: Pretty Horse
Race it.
He's a good colt with a lot of potential.
His sire ran in the Derby a few years back and placed well.
E
Subject: Suspicious
Do you get a commission if I buy a horse?
B
Subject: Wounded
Of course not, but it would mean you'd have to come to Kentucky . . . .
xx
Subject: Re: Wounded
I was in Kentucky a couple of weeks ago and . . . . holy shit . . . . its two million dollars!
B
Subject: Laughing
Its a very pretty horse Bella, what do you expect?
xx
Subject: Shocked
Is it gold plated?
x
Subject: Gold Plating
The gold comes when it starts winning races.
xx
The intercom buzzes, startling me halfway through typing my response.
"Bella?"
"Yes Lauren?"
"There's a Detective Sokolov here from the NYPD."
"What does he want?"
"He says he needs to talk to you about James Trevisano."
Shit.
"Show him in please Lauren."
Detective Sokolov reminds me a lot of Charlie, exuding competence and caring without being overbearing and I listen while he talks.
And then I make a call.
"Demetri?" I whisper into my cell. "I'm really sorry to bother you but would you mind coming up to my office for a minute?"
"Of course not Bella, what can I do for you?"
"Um, James Trevisano has skipped bail."
"I'll be right there and I'll bring Steve Nichols with me."
"Thanks."
I offer the Detective some coffee and an embarrassed shrug while we wait. But I can't help it. James scared the ever loving shit out of me and I don't want to have to deal with this on my own.
...
I prowl my apartment sipping beer and completely unable to relax.
I'd done a very good job of blocking him out of my thoughts though I guess in a way he's always there. That night is the last night ever I walked anywhere alone. But I hadn't known the things Detective Sokolov told me this afternoon. His history of violence against women. His long standing obsession with me. They aren't sure he's going to come after me but they aren't ruling it out either.
Of course I'm an idiot and I argued with Demetri about how much protection he thought I should have until James is caught, but in truth it was an argument I was ultimately happy to lose.
Ugh. I should have moved out of this damn place already, then at least he wouldn't know where I live. Not that I'm not safe here. The Concierge has a 'little' friend for the foreseeable future.
Fuck.
I wish . . . .
Subject: Sorry
Shit blew up at work.
So Midnight Sun could really win races?
B
x
I wasn't expecting a reply, I just felt better writing to him for some reason, but my laptop pings within a few minutes.
Subject: Risk
Its always a risk with horses Bella.
Why don't you come down and meet him?
E
xx
Subject: Etiquette
Do I bring him flowers?
Subject: No
Lol, some flowers are highly poisonous to horses. I suggest sugar lumps or carrots.
When can you come?
xx
Subject: Diary
Let me check . . . .
x
Subject: Re: Diary
We could travel back here together after Thanksgiving?
xx
Subject: Like
Sounds like a good idea but I need to check with my diary and Rose.
x
Subject: Sister-In-Law
Let me know if she gives you grief and I'll threaten her crowning glory
xx
Subject: Rude
Sisters before misters
Night Edward
xx
Subject: Night Bella xxx
...
Demetri and I fall into a new routine.
He picks me up for work as usual, with my favourite coffee, and escorts me to my office.
At about eleven thirty he shows up and helps me into my coat and we go for a walk. I've learned more about my adoptive city in a few days of walking it with him than I have in years. And also that what I thought was best hotdog in New York was in fact the palest imitation.
...
I have a charity dinner tonight and I'm a patron so I have to go.
Demetri understands, and he's going to drop me off and pick me up, but his lips are still pressed into a thin line as Aro fusses around 'perfecting' my hair and makeup.
"It's okay, I'll know everyone there." I remind the silent giant.
"No, you won't."
"But I'll know Trevisano if I see him and there'll be people everywhere. I'll just call you."
"It's still a risk."
"You know it'd be nice if you tried to play it down and help me relax." I huff.
"I'm sorry." He says, not sounding remotely so. "It would have been much easier if you'd just called your boyfriend and asked him to escort you as I requested."
"He's not my . . . . whatever . . . . I didn't. I'm just going to eat, make a speech and run, I'm exhausted anyway."
"Keep still." Aro hisses. "You've lost weight and the dress is gaping, I need to tack it."
...
It's not until I'm entering the function room at the swanky hotel that I realise that it's the first time I've actually been to something like this without a date.
Oh well.
...
My cell chirps and I slide it out of my purse and under the table.
'How'd your speech go?'
'Good I think, they laughed in all the right places and clapped at the end'
'You looked beautiful'
'Are you cyber stalking me again?'
'I may have been. I'm on duty and nothing's happening'
'That's really not flattering'
'Isabella Marie Swan. What else am I going to do with my night shift but think about you and Google your luscious ass on line?'
'So suave'
'I wish you wouldn't call me that'
"Bella?"
"Oh sorry." I murmur, putting my cell back in my purse as a business associate appears at my side. "These things are addictive."
"I know." He chuckles, taking the empty seat beside me. "I'm not sure if my daughter is marrying her fiancé or her smart phone, she seems equally enamoured of both. I'm sorry to disturb you but I wanted to talk to you about Cincinnati, I believe we have some mutual interests there . . . ."
The rest of the night passed quickly but I couldn't help but notice the flash of relief on Demetri's face when I descended the hotel steps to the car in one piece.
...
My cell has chirped a couple of times but I've resisted the temptation to pull it out, instead focussing on the people I was with.
But as soon as my apartment door closes behind Demetri I whip it out, scrolling through the messages, looking for Edward.
'I know what you all used to call me but I'd like to think I've grown a little since then, lol'
I laugh to myself because he was known as Suaveward all over campus after the first semester.
'Sorry, got caught up in work stuff. But you are suave Edward, you know you are'
When he doesn't reply I assume he's busy and put myself to bed.
...
Saturday is not one of Charlie's better days and I'm in floods of tears when Demetri meets me at the entrance, ushering me into the car and taking me home so I can bury myself in bed with a tub of ice cream and my laptop for the rest of the day.
Sunday with Mom isn't much of an improvement either but at least she didn't call me an ungrateful cunt this week, in fact she seemed quite interested in the idea that I might buy a racehorse. I really can't work that woman out anymore . . . .
...
The short week drags by extremely slowly but eventually its Wednesday afternoon and Demetri is driving me to the airport.
He's not entirely happy about me leaving but he's agreed that I ought to be fairly safe with the Cullens and he has family of his own to spend time with. He feels a bit like the old Charlie this afternoon, lecturing me on not going anywhere alone and keeping my cell charged, but he had to agree with Detective Sokolov that Trevisano is unlikely to find me anywhere outside of the city.
Nevertheless he insists on accompanying me to my gate, another image for everyone to speculate about.
...
As soon as the wheels lift off the runway I sigh in relief, glad to be leaving it all behind me for a while . . . .