Chapter 2

Isabella Pov

~September 13th, 2011~

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"Ang! Have you seen my jean jacket?" I yelled, tossing clothes over my shoulder and onto the floor.

There was no answer. Frustrated, I slammed shut the door to the closet and stomped into the living room where Angela was having a bowl of cereal, her eyes glued to the TV.

"Ang!" I called again, and her confused gaze snapped to me.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"My jean jacket, have you seen it?"

"Uh... no."

I sighed heavily. "I can't find it anywhere. Where the hell did I put it?"

She rolled her eyes at me, jabbing her spoon in my direction in a passive-aggressive manner. "Bella, this apartment is the size of a matchbox. How could you have lost it?"

I ignored her comment and headed into the bathroom. Almost immediately, I spotted my "lost" jacket lying on top of my laundry hamper. I briefly wondered how it got there, but knowing me and how distracted I usually was, I probably just threw it there without even realizing.

"Okay, I found it," I said, mostly to myself, pulling it over the mid-thigh cream floral dress I was wearing. Putting on my brown leather boots and grabbing my school bag, I headed for the door. "I'm leaving for class," I announced over my shoulder loudly enough for Angela to hear me.

"We're still on for tonight?" she called, then suddenly appeared in the living room's entrance. She was wearing pajama shorts and a wife beater, her hair pulled up in a messy bun.

I nodded distractedly, grabbing my keys from the hanger. "Yeah. Pizza and a movie."

"Right." She smiled. "Have a good day."

"You too."

I stepped into the chilly Chicago autumn air and took a deep breath. Even though it hadn't started out as one, I had a feeling it was going to be a good day. I smiled to myself and started walking with an extra spring in my step towards the bus station.

My stomach gave a low rumbling, and I realized I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast. Just a few feet away was a Starbucks, and I stopped in my tracks, contemplating for a moment. I hadn't gotten my paycheck yet, but I said to hell with it. It was my birthday, and I deserved to treat myself with whatever my heart -or stomach in this case- desired. Well within reason, of course.

With new found determination, I opened the door and stepped inside, inhaling the amazing hunger-inducing aromas greedily. However, my good mood was a bit thrown off balance when I saw the huge line ahead of me. I grumbled a bit under my breath and took my place at the end of the line, set on getting my coffee and bagel.

I was meditating about a test I had that morning, my eyes roaming aimlessly around the shop, when the door opened and a new customer made an appearance. My gaze was drawn involuntary in that direction. A tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing what looked like a very expensive black suit stepped in. He frowned deeply, taking in his surroundings like there was something bothering him about the place.

Finally, he came to stand behind me, and I turned around, staring in the opposite direction.

Merely seconds later there was a heavy, annoyed sigh coming from the man behind me, and I wondered what his problem was. No one likes to wait in lines, but hey, newsflash, that's what happens when you live in a busy city like Chicago.

Then there was fabric rustling, throat clearing, buttons being pressed and another sigh. Curious to see what he was doing, I turned to a forty-five degree angle, so that my profile was facing him. I crossed my arms over my chest, pretending to look out the window. From my peripheral, I could see that his head was bent and he was doing something with his phone. I lowered my eyes to the ground and saw a very nice pair of black, patent leather dress shoes.

His head suddenly snapped up, and I whirled around startled, turning my back to him.

Finally, it was my turn to place my order, and I greeted the smiling barista a small smile of my own. "Hey. Um, I'll have a tall Caffe Americano and an Asiago Bagel, please."

I paid, then grabbed my order and headed over to the nearby milk and sugar table.

"What can I get you?" I heard the barista ask the man who had been behind me.

"Uh... coffee," he answered in a deep voice. "Brewed coffee."

"Tall, grande, venti?" the barista asked automatically.

"Tall, I guess." His tone was laced with frustrated uncertainty, and I chuckled to myself quietly. He didn't seem like the type of person who often found himself in uncertain situations.

I took a sip of my espresso, and when I was satisfied with its taste, I grabbed my bagel and started walking out of the coffee shop. I was just passing Mr. Uncertainty when he spun around brusquely, causing me to crash right into his hard chest. My lidless cup of coffee flew out of my hand, and the entire content landed on his white button down shirt and black tie.

"Oh my God!" I squealed in horror, watching as dark drops trailed down his clothes and onto the floor. "I'm so sorry." My hand instinctively reached out to wipe at his tie in a frantic manner. He pulled back from me abruptly, and my eyes watered. "I'm so so sorry," I repeated in a timid voice.

I heard someone snicker at a table close to us, but I couldn't have cared less. Jerk!

The man's expression was absolutely murderous. He was seething with anger, but the immense effort he was doing to push it back was visible. "It's okay," he answered tightly. "I hated the damn shirt anyway."

"I'm sorry," I said again, on the verge of crying.

"I said it's okay," he snapped, seeming even more annoyed with my repeated apology.

"I think I have some wet wipes in my bag..." I started saying, my hands shaking as I dug into said bag.

"No," he cut me off sharply, his voice glacial. "What's the point? The shirt is ruined."

"I'll buy you a new one," I blurted out, clearly not thinking.

The man snorted rudely. He gave me a criticizing once over before grabbing his coffee and storming out of the shop.

Once outside, I furiously disposed of my bagel in the nearest trashcan. Angry tears threatened to spill, and I wiped at my eyes with my jacket's sleeve.

I seemed that I had been wrong, after all. This was definitely going to be a bad day.

~~ 0 ~~

"I'm home!" I called as soon as I unlocked the door to our apartment that same evening. I tossed my boots to the side carelessly and headed over to the kitchen. I was dog-tired, grumpy, and on top of that, I was extremely hungry.

Angela was perched up on the counter, sipping on a glass of orange juice. "Hey," she greeted, taking in the humongous frown I had been wearing since that early morning. "I'm scared to ask how your day was."

"Horrible," I answered nonetheless, taking the glass from her and drinking what was left of the juice.

She chuckled lowly. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

I sighed. "Besides the fact that I spilled burning hot espresso on a guy's shirt?"

"Yeah." She grinned, then her grin morphed into a straight line. "Wait, what? What guy?"

"I don't know." I shrugged, opening the fridge and grabbing the bottle of white wine Angela had bought especially for my birthday. "A guy." I uncorked it and poured myself a glass, chugging it down with gusto.

"Where were you?" Angela asked, my little anecdote seeming to have piqued her interest.

"Starbucks."

"So... was he handsome? Did he get your number?" she asked excitedly, waggling her eyebrows at me suggestively.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Angela, I soaked his shirt in coffee. His very expensive shirt, I might add."

"Eh." She waved me off like it was nothing. "So, you didn't get yourself a date."

"No."

She actually looked disappointed. "Too bad. You need to get laid."

"Ha ha," I said dryly. "Look who's talking. When was the last time you had sex?"

"Well..." She tapped her chin as if she was contemplating. "Three months ago."

"With whom?" I asked, feigning ignorance, because I already knew the answer to my own question.

"That guy, Ben," she said it like he was just an ordinary guy.

Pffft. As if they hadn't been in a relationship for four years before they broke up. Sometimes Angela's coldness towards the poor guy amazed even me. He was trying to win her back like crazy, but she didn't even want to speak to him. She was acting like he had never been an important part of her life. Not to mention that as childhood friends, the three of us had grown up together. I felt really bad for Ben, but unfortunately there was nothing I could do to help him. Angela was more stubborn than a mule, and when she set her mind on something, she wasn't easy to steer in a different direction. My persuasive tactics had no effect on her whatsoever.

"Oh, the nice guy who's absolutely crazy about you," I replied, smirking.

"End of subject," she snapped, her tone warning me. She didn't want to talk about him. As always. "We were talking about you. When did you last have sex? Be honest."

I shrugged, trying to hide the blush that was starting to creep in behind my hair. "A year ago," I confessed after a minute.

"See?" she yelled triumphantly. "You're in desperate need of cock."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my God, Angela. Don't be crass."

"Don't be a prude," she challenged, nudging me playfully. "So yeah... if you ever see that guy again, offer to buy him coffee. You know... to make up to him for the ruined shirt."

I laughed heartily. "Yeah, right. Don't be silly. I'm never going to see him again."

"Whatever. Anywaaaay," she sang, grinning like a fool. She ran out of the kitchen and was back in under ten seconds with a gift bag. "Happy birthday, baby." She thrust the bag in my face eagerly, and I had to laugh at her childish excitement.

"Oh, Ang... you shouldn't have," I said sincerely, and she waved me off.

"Nonsense. Open it," she urged.

Inside was a pale yellow scarf with green fringes. I pulled it out, immediately noticing the way my fingers sank into the soft fabric. "It's beautiful. Thank you, but you really shouldn't have. I appreciate it, don't get me wrong, but it must have cost a fortune."

"Would you shut up already? It's a gift. Just accept it," she admonished, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at me.

"You're right," I said. "I'm sorry. I just don't want you spending money you don't have on me."

"You're still talking." She gave me a pointed look, and I chuckled. Taking a few steps I engulfed her into a bear hug.

"I love you, Ang," I chocked out. "You're the closest thing I have to a sister."

"You're strangling me," she replied in a tight voice, and I pulled back quickly.

"Sorry."

"Oh, don't cry, silly," she breathed taking in my expression. "I love you, too, you know that." With that she embraced me again, and we stayed like that until I was ready to let go.

Later that evening, we had pizza as planned. We coupled it with a bottle of wine and a chick flick, and my mood improved significantly. It was not the best birthday I've ever had, but it was a nice, fun, relaxing evening spent in good company, and that was what I needed.

~~ 0 ~~

Friday afternoon, I was sauntering my way over to work, enjoying the unusually warm day. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and I had to reach over in my bag for my sunglasses. I perched them upon my nose and continued my promenade through Chicago's streets.

It was just past three when I made it through the door at The Oriental, a small bookstore owned by my aunt Kate. She was lounging on one of the orange tangier sofas, reading. Her brown eyes rose lazily to take me in, then lowered back to the astrology book in her hand. Soft, oriental music was coming from the speakers, the familiar, comforting scent of paper mixed with sandalwood assaulting my nostrils.

"Hey," I greeted cheerily.

She glanced at the watch attached to her wrist. "You're late."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Yeah, three minutes late."

"I'm starving," she complained, getting up to grab her wallet.

"Well, why didn't you eat? Didn't you take a lunch break today?"

"No," she huffed, starting to wrap her turquoise, knitted shawl around her. "I didn't have the time. It was a slow morning, but just as I was about to leave for lunch, the customers started pouring in."

"Now you can go. I'm here. And you might want to leave that here," I said pointing towards her shawl. "It's hot outside."

She shrugged, not bothering to take my advice into consideration. "Do you want me to bring you something?"

I waved her off. "Nah, I'm fine. I had a sandwich on my way from school."

"Alright. I'm out of here. See you in half an hour." Her long white skirt fluttered from the mild wind as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

I got behind the sales counter and sat in my favorite antique leather armchair. I took out my bottle of Diet Coke from my bag and sipped on it before leaning against the back of the armchair with my feet curled underneath me. I grabbed my book from under the counter where I had left it the day before and started reading.

It was a good twenty minutes or so until the bell attached to the door let me know my first customer of the day had arrived.

"Hello," a masculine, somewhat familiar voice spoke from the other side of the counter.

I licked my forefinger, turned the page and folded the top corner neatly. I shut the book and looked up, almost having a heart attack as I did so. There, looking impressively imposing, stood the man from Starbucks. This time he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses, but I could recognize those piercing eyes anywhere. Those forest-green eyes...

God, how did I not notice he has such gorgeous eyes the first time? Oh, yeah, that's right. I was too busy feeling embarrassed.

His reddish hair was neatly styled on top of his head as it seemed that he had recently gotten a haircut. Just like the last time I've seen him -or the first- he was wearing a black suit with a black tie. The only thing that was different was his shirt, which was now a pale blue.

I was staring at him so intensely that I almost didn't notice the deep frown he was sporting.

Jeez... is he always so grumpy?

"Do I know you?" he asked, and I jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Um... y-yeah. S-sort of," I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I... uh... I spilled coffee on you on Tuesday."

"Ah." His right eyebrow arched, his expression becoming grim. "Yes, now I remember."

My heart was beating so fast in my chest, I felt like I couldn't even breath properly. "C-can I help you with something?" I managed to squeak out, biting on the inside of my lower lip so hard, I was sure I was going to draw blood.

"Yes," he said after analyzing me for a moment. "I need a book."

Duh... obviously. This is a bookstore.

"Okay..." I said slowly, staring at him like I was in a trance. I don't even remember blinking. "What book?"

He sighed, burying his hands into his pants' pockets. "I don't know."

"You don't know," I repeated, and I saw his jaw clench.

"Yes," he said irritated. "It's not for me."

"Okay..." I trailed off, still not taking my eyes off him.

"It's for my niece," he explained, glancing around the store and taking in his surroundings. "She likes to read. So... can you help me with a suggestion?"

"Sure," I said, finally managing to pull myself together and bolt uptight. I got out from behind the counter and started walking. He followed. "How old is she?" I said over my shoulder, trying hard not to feel too self-conscious, but failing miserably. I wondered if I was walking funny. I sure as hell was feeling extremely uncomfortable, like someone had stuck a stick up my ass. I could bet I looked ridiculous with the effort I was doing to walk confidently.

"Thirteen," he answered after a long minute.

"Do you know what genre she likes?" I tugged nervously at the seem of my sleeve, my back still to him as I passed the small "reading area", destined to clients who wanted to browse through certain books they were interested in buying.

"Well, fantasy in general."

I nodded to myself, heading over to the fantasy section and starting to scan the shelves. "Okay, um... how about Tunnels? It's a great book." I pulled it out with slightly trembling hands, showing it to him.

Gah, keep it together, Bella! He's just a client.

"No," he said firmly, not even bothering to avert his intense gaze from my face. "She has that one already."

Okay...

I turned around, and without even realizing, started chewing on my thumb like I always did when I was extremely nervous. I spotted a thick book with a blue cover and held it up.

"Eragon?"

His eyes narrowed as he regarded the book, then he shook his head. "She has that one, too."

"Um," I browsed through a few more books rapidly. "The Golden Compass?"

"No."

I sighed, starting to get a bit annoyed, then made a random choice. "How about Eye of the Wizard?"

"Is it any good?" he asked, taking it from me to study it briefly.

I shrugged, trying hard not to stare at him. "I haven't read this one, but you could give it a try. I don't think it's too gory or anything."

To my amazement, he let out a low chuckle. "She likes gory... much to her mother's exasperation. I'll take this one."

"Okay." I nodded, making my way to the cash register. I put the book in one of the bag's with the bookstore's logo and handed it to him. "That'll be seven dollars."

"That cheap?" he murmured in surprise, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a ten dollar bill.

"Yeah." I took the money and gave him his change, along with the receipt. His fingers brushed against mine, and I yanked my hand back as if I had just been electrocuted.

"Alright," he said as he shoved the money into one of his pants' pockets carelessly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I breathed, smiling goofily. He didn't spare me another glance as he spun around and headed towards the exit with large deliberate steps. "Please come back again," I stupidly added, obviously too loud, because he heard me even from where he was at the door.

"What was that?" He turned to look at me expectantly.

I blushed furiously. "Uh... Nothing."

He gave me a strange, dubious look before turning on his heel sharply and leaving. Seconds later, Kate burst through the door.

"Who was that?" she demanded, going straight to the window to peer from behind the blinds.

"A guy," I stated, still not fully recovered from the shock of having him there, at my workplace. It all had happened so fast, I wasn't sure it had been real.

Kate rolled her eyes at me as she tossed her bag on the counter in front of me. "I noticed that."

"Oh. He was just a client."

She sized me up suspiciously, taking in my still flustered, dreamy expression. "Since when do we have obnoxiously rich, limousine-riding, Gucci-wearing clients?"

"Huh?" I said intelligently, not very capable of focusing on the conversation we were having.

"Well, he was wearing a Gucci suit, even I know that. I too read magazines, you know. And he just climbed in the backseat of a silver Mercedes."

"Limousine?" I asked confused, glancing over at her.

She shrugged. "Well, not exactly, but he had a driver, so..."

"Huh."

"He sure was good-looking," Kate added after a moment of complete silence. "He also looked to be my age, so who knows. Maybe next time he comes here- if he does come back- I'll make a pass at him." She winked at me conspiratorially, letting out an amused laugh.

"Yeah," I agreed distractedly, letting out a sigh. "He's gorgeous."

Her eyes landed on the book I had been reading earlier, and she picked it up to examine it closely. "What are you reading today?"

I shrugged, my gaze darting towards the window. "Anne Rice."

She groaned softly. "Vampires? Again? Really? Just last week you were reading that book with that vegetarian vampire guy who's glowing in the sunlight. What's up with you and vampires lately? What's next? Watching True Blood? I have to tell you..."

She continued rambling and gesturing wildly with her hands, but I ignored her. Getting up as if I were transfixed, I headed over to the window and looked outside. The street was pothering with cars while the sidewalk was packed with pedestrians rushing over to their destination.

There was no trace of silver Mercedes whatsoever.

Suddenly, a vision of him rushing back into the store came into my mind. He would be flustered from running, a small bead of sweat trickling down his temple, his breathing labored. He would sauntered his way over to where I was standing and give me a smile. A real smile. Then he would offer to buy me dinner as a thank you for helping him pick out a book for his niece.

I snorted at my inner-self unceremoniously. Yeah, right. Apt imagery, Bella. Apparently you forgot one tiny detail. The man hates you for the incident that happened in Starbucks. He's not going to invite you to dinner. Stop daydreaming!

Plus... he's old. Well, not old, old, but older than you...

But he's so handsome...

"Bella!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Kate's sharp voice.

"Huh? What?" I whirled around wide-eyed.

"Did you even hear a word of what I said?" she admonished in a parental tone.

I smiled sheepishly, and she shook her head disapprovingly. "Come on. Get to work. We need to organize those books we got yesterday."

I nodded compliantly and walked away from the window, not before throwing it one last longing glance.

Will I ever see him again?

A/N Okay, they've met. Now it's time to finish Her Enigma :D

If you're curious about Bella's outfit, you can find it on my profile.

Again, I'm sorry for not being able to reply to your reviews, but FF simply won't let me. Does anyone else have this problem or is it just me?