Chapter 5

Edward Pov

~ November 11th, 2011 ~

~~0~~

~~0~~

~~0~~

"I need a favor."

I looked up to see Emmett standing in the doorway to my office, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a navy blue suit and a tentative smile on his face.

"What?" I asked distractedly, motioning for him to step in.

He sighed, closed the door behind him and walked over to my desk. He sat down in front of me, kicking his legs up on my organized desk and disturbing a framed picture of me and my wife.

"A favor," he said again, glancing at the papers in my hand.

I frowned at him, reaching over to push his bulky legs away. "Okay."

He grinned. "Rosalie and I want to get away this weekend. You know…get out of the city and just… relax."

I put the papers down and leaned back into my chair, staring at him blankly. "And what does this has to do with me?"

"Can Jess stay with you while we're away?"

I blinked a couple of times, before speaking. "First of all… why isn't she going with you?"

He shrugged, then leaned towards me and said in a confidential tone, "I need some time alone with my wife, man." He paused briefly before adding, "Jess doesn't want to stay with Mom and Dad, because she says she gets bored at their house."

I nodded in understanding. "Yeah, sure. Of course she can stay with me."

"Thanks," he said, looking relieved. "Can you come pick her up tonight?"

"Sure. What time?"

"Whenever you can. She's eager to spend the weekend with you."

I smiled, looking forward to having some time alone with my niece. "Alright. I'll see you around eight."

He got up to leave, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and turned to me, grinning devilishly. "Have you seen your assistant's skirt today?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Or should I say belt? That piece of material definitely resembles more of a belt than an actual skirt."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't even want to comment on the subject. As soon as I get the chance, I'm replacing her."

He chuckled. "Well, I, for one,don't mind her oufits."

I snorted unceremoniously. "I'm sure you don't. Maybe she should be your assistant, not mine. Can we please swap assistants? I rather like Emma."

His expression scrunched at hearing his assistant's name. "Don't even mention Emma to me. If Dad hadn't saddled me with her, I would have let her go long ago. I mean, have you looked at her? She dresses like one of those widows from the nineteenth century. She's not even thirty yet, for Christ's sake." As he said the last sentence, he raised his hands in the air to accentuate his indignation.

I smiled at him indulgently, shaking my head. "You can't judge people only based on appearances."

He huffed. "Well, her personality is even worse than her choice of clothes."

"She's a nice girl, Emmett. At least she dresses appropriately," I said, my mind flashing to the mousy girl who almost all the time wore black for some unknown reason. Instantly, that image was replaced by one of Victoria and her skimpy skirt, and I had to keep myself from getting more frustrated than I already was with her.

"If you say so," Emmett replied, heading for the door. "So, eight o'clock tonight?"

"Mmhmm," I murmured, already back at reading my latest client's file.

"You don't mind having her over, right?" he asked, and I raised my eyes to see that he had once again stopped midway, looking uncertain.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "If I minded, rest assured I would have let you know. But no. I rather enjoy spending time with my niece."

"That's all you ever do lately." He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You need to get out more. Meet new people." He glanced at the door, then back at me. "You know what?" he said, his voice taking that serious tone that indicated he had set his mind on something. "Next weekend I'm taking you to a club."

"I don't want to go to a club," I argued, getting a bit annoyed with him. "I haven't been in years."

"Exactly. You need to stop acting and living your life like an old man."

"I'm not acting like an old man," I protested, my brow furrowing. "I'm acting according to my age."

He was silent for a long moment, looking at me as if he was contemplating something. "Okay, don't get mad," he started in a low voice. "I don't want to sound insensitive or anything, but… you need to get laid."

"Emmett…" I warned, and he put his hands up defensively.

"You don't have to be in a relationship for that," he added quickly. "All I'm saying is that… you need a distraction. Every since Tanya died you've been… different."

The expression on my face must have been murderous, because he backed down rapidly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I don't know what I would have done if Rosie…" he trailed off, taking a sharp breath. "Eight o'clock."

With that, he spun around and exited my office, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I glanced down at the picture of me and Tanya that had been taken about three years prior.

We'd used to be so happy. Even though in the last year and a half of marriage things had been pretty tense between us, I knew we could have made it work. Eventually.

Why did life have to take her away from me?

~~ 0 ~~

After leaving work, I drove straight home. I greeted Peter, one of our doormen on my way upstairs, got into the elevator and pressed the button for my floor.

A couple of months after Tanya's death, I realized I couldn't continue living in the house we had shared for so many years anymore. Too many painful memories. Now, I called home a spacious condo on the 25th floor in downtown Chicago.

Once at the door, I reached into my briefcase and pulled out the keys, unlocking the door and stepping inside. I fumbled into the dark for the switch and turned the light on. Kicking my shoes off, I headed towards the kitchen. I pulled out a bottle of water and took the cap off, taking a sip. With the bottle still in hand, I made my way towards my bedroom, while with the other hand I began loosening my tie.

I took a couple more sips of water, then set the bottle on the nightstand as I started undressing. I put on a pair of jeans and a v-neck cashmere sweater, changing my socks as well. Like the rest of the house, my bedroom had enormous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, so I headed in that direction and just stared at the quivering world literally lying at my feet.

Everything was so quiet these days. I missed coming home to an exuberant wife who always had something amusing or at least interesting to tell about her day. I missed coming home and having my senses invaded by the delicious smell of her cooking. I missed having someone to share my frustrations with. I missed sharing the bed with someone. I even missed the fights. I missed everything about having her in my life.

I despised coming back from work at the end of the day and finding the condo empty and… cold.

After a few more minutes of just staring, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already twenty minutes past seven. With a heavy sigh, I tore myself from the window and went back to the kitchen. I opened the fridge once again and peered inside, this time looking for food. I found a food container with a label on it that said lasagna and took it out, setting it on the countertop. I silently thanked Susan, the lady who now took care of my meals, that she had made sure I had something to eat even on her day off.

After heating the lasagna in the microwave, I ate quickly and washed my dishes, then walked into the hallway. I put on a jacket and a pair of comfortable shoes and headed out the door again.

By the time I made it to my brother's house, it was well past eight. Jessica was already waiting in the foyer, fully dressed and her backpack hanging from one shoulder.

"You're late." She frowned at me as soon as I made it inside. She resembled her mother when she was upset so much it was scarry. "I've been standing here for fifteen minutes."

I chuckled, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. "Sorry, kiddo. Did you get everything you need?"

She sighed, then shrugged, taking a few steps towards the door. "Yeah, I think so."

"She has an assignment to do in her English class for Monday, so make sure she doesn't forget about it." I turned my head to see Rosalie standing in the living room's doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed like her classy usual self, with the exception of her bare feet.

"Okay, Mom," I replied teasingly, smiling at her. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Don't let her induce into a sugar coma."

"I won't."

She shook her head, clearly not buying it. "And please feed her decent food."

My brow furrowed. "Rosalie, I'm a responsible adult. I know what to feed a child."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she shot back sarcastically. "I didn't know you cooked."

"You know I don't cook, but Susan does," I said, starting to get aggravated with her. "Or I can take her to a restaurant. Whatever she wants. This is not the first time she'll be staying with me."

"Yeah, but…" she stopped mid-sentence abruptly. "Nevermind. You two have fun."

I knew what she had wanted to say. In the past, when Jessica had been staying over, Tanya had been there to take care of her. Tanya had been a great cook, so Rosalie never had to worry that her daughter wasn't been taken care of appropriately.

Tanya had been great with children. She would have been a great mother if she would have been given the chance.

"We will," I answered dryly, opening the door for Jessica. "Enjoy your weekend away."

"Are you excited at the prospect of spending the next couple of days in my company?" I asked Jessica while we were waiting at a red light.

"Yeah." She grinned at me, toying with her seat belt. "Can we go see Bella?"

"Who?" I looked at her, confused.

She rolled her eyes. "Bella. You know, the girl at the bookstore."

Recognition dawned on me. "You mean Isabella."

"No." She frowned deeply. "Bella."

"Her name is Isabella," I corrected.

"But friends call her Bella," she argued back stubbornly. "That's what she said."

The light changed to green, and I put the car in motion. "I wasn't aware of the fact that you're her friend already. You only met her two times."

I found my niece's attachement to a person she barely knew a bit unusual. Even if she had a friendly, amiable personality, most of the time she was extremely picky in choosing her friends. Even in school, she only had one friend; a girl named Katy. The rest of the girls, she said, were too conceited and fake for her taste. And they were only thirteen. I couldn't help but wonder what she was going to think about the female population when she got into high school.

Jessica shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "So, can we go?"

"No."

"Awww," she whined, her mouth twisting into a pout. "Why not?"

"She doesn't work on weekends."

She squinted her eyes at me suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"I read the store schedule they had posted on the door," I said in explanation.

"Oh." Her face fell as she turned to glance out her window.

"Why do you like her so much?" I couldn't help but ask. "You've barely met her."

"I just do," she said, like it was obvious. "She's pretty. Why? You don't like her?"

"I didn't say that."

I took a left turn, then entered the building's garage and parked the car in its spot.

"So, you like her, too?" She stared at me expectantly. "You think she's pretty?"

"No," I answered quickly, taking off my seat belt. "I mean, she's okay looking. Well, not just okay…" I groaned softly. "Let's just drop the subject."

We got out of the car and made our way into the main lobby where Peter was sitting at his desk browsing through a newspaper.

"Back so soon, Mr. Cullen?" he said, his eyes first darting towards the purple backpack in my hand and then moving on to Jessica.

I nodded. "Yes."

"And who is this lovely young lady?" he peered over his glasses, leaning forward on his elbows that were resting on the desk. He was in his early fifties, had dark blond hair with gray sideburns and always wore a kind smile on his face.

"This is my niece, Jessica," I introduced her. "Jess, this is Peter."

"Hello," she said in greeting, thrusting a hand at him confidentely. "Nice to meet you."

His smile widened as he shook her hand warmly. "Well, it's definitely nice to meet you, too."

I started walking towards the elevator, and Jessica followed. "Have a good night, Peter," I called over my shoulder.

"You too, sir. Miss."

Jessica turned to wave at him, and I put a hand on her shoulder as we stepped inside. Once upstairs, we took off our shoes in the foyer, and I waved my hand in the general direction of the other bedrooms. I stopped shortly and shook my head at myself.

"I was about to say that you already know where your room is." I sighed. "New place," I reminded myself. "Come on. I'll give you the tour."

I showed her all the rooms, starting with the kitchen and ending with one of the guest bedrooms. "And this is where you'll be sleeping," I said, tossing her backpack on the queen-sized bed.

She ran to the window, looked outside and turned to me with a pleased grin. "I like it. I like your new home, uncle Eddie."

"I'm glad you do." I smiled, walking over to her.

We studied the city below for a while. She pointed to different buildings, and I told her what they were. When she got bored, she turned to me, batting her eyelashes pleadingly.

"Can we order pizza?"

"You didn't have dinner yet?" I asked, finding it hard to belive that Rosalie had let her go without dinner.

"I did, but I want pizza. Mom rarely lets us have it. She says we have to eat healthy and stuff." She scrunched her nose, heading over to the bed and plopping on it.

"Pizza it is, then. You want dessert?"

Her whole face lit up at the offer. "Yeah. Do they have tiramisu?"

"I don't know. Let me look." I went into the kitchen and pulled out a flyer from one of the drawers.

"Yes, they have tiramisu," I announced as I came back into her room. "So, what kind of pizza do you like?"

"Um…" she thought for a moment. "Mushrooms?"

I nodded, pulling my phone out and dialing the number on the flyer. "Your mother is going to kill me if she finds out I fed you pizza and tiramisu at this hour," I said with a chuckle.

"But she won't find out." She winked at me conspiratorially. "Who's going to tell her?"

~~ 0 ~~

The next morning we were getting ready to take our usual walk in the park, like we did almost every Saturday. But first we were going to take an early lunch, or better said brunch, at a closeby restaurant. I finished dressing by putting on a heavy sweater and headed out into the hallway.

"Jess!" I called, walking towards her room. "Are you ready?"

"One minute!" she replied through the closed door, her voice muffled.

I sighed and went into the living room to take a seat on the couch. I turned on the TV and watched the news while waiting. A few minutes later, she made an appearance.

"Zip up your jacket," I said, getting up.

She frowned. "But I'm hot."

"It's cold outside, and I don't want you catching a cold. Zip it up," I said again in a no-nonsense voice.

She huffed exaggeratedly but complied as we headed out of the condo. The other doorman greeted us politely as we passed by him on our way outside. His name was Boris. He was a bit younger than Peter, maybe in his mid forties and was a pretty quiet person.

"Do we really have to go to gran's house for dinner tonight?" Jessica said as we were walking on the sidewalk side by side. She looked up at me expectantly, her nose wrinkling.

I smiled down at her. "Not necessarily. We won't go if you don't want to."

She shook her head adamantly. "I don't. Can we have hot dogs for dinner?"

"You know what your mother said last night. No crappy food."

"Awww," she started whining. "Please? She won't know. Plus, I'm about to have a healthy lunch. I'll eat a salad or something." She wrapped her short arms around my right one, her eyes begging.

I chuckled. "There's no need for that. You can have hot dogs if you want. Only on one condition. We'll make them at home. Together. Susan called and she can't come to cook for us today because of some personal problems she's dealing with, so we're going to have to fend for ourselves."

She grinned at the prospect of getting to make her own meal, squeezing my arm. "Okay."

We were still a few minutes away from the restaurant, so we continued walking in companionable silence with her still attached to my arm.

"So, how's your boyfriend?" I asked teasingly as we reached our destination and I held the door open for her.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she muttered, glaring up at me as she stepped inside.

"Is he good looking?" I continued as we sat down at a table.

She didn't answer, looking preocupied by placing her napkin in her lap.

"Is he tall?"

Again, no answer. Luckily for her, a waiter came to take our order and he got me distracted enough to drop the subject, but I knew that sooner or later I was going to get it out of her. All joke aside, I wanted her to trust me enough to tell me if she planned on having a boyfriend. Teenage boys could sometimes be dangerous in their immaturity, and I didn't want her getting hurt, especially at such a fragile age.

~~ 0~~

After our lovely brunch, we headed over to the nearest park, where I always took her. Aside from a few joggers and people walking their dogs, the park was almost deserted at this time of the year. The fact that the weather was colder than usual on a November day made my fellow Chicagoans prefer to choose other destinations, or simply just stay at home.

However, I loved it. I loved seeing the entire park covered in brown and yellow leaves that seemed to form a gigantic blanket. I loved being surrounded by earth tones everywhere I turned my head, and I definitely loved inhaling the clean, fresh air that had a very nature-like smell to it.

An hour later we were about to exit the park when a loud screech brought my attention to Jessica.

"Uncle Eddie, look!" she cried excitedly. "It's Bella. Bella!"

She started running in that direction, and my eyes followed after her. About two hundred feet away, Isabella and her friend were walking at a leisure pace, dressed in jogging outfits. My first immediate thought was that it was interesting how we kept running into each other as a pure coincidence. I took a deep breath and headed over towards them where Jessica was already busy hugging Isabella.

As I approached them, Isabella's eyes raised to meet mine. "Hello." She smiled, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

"Isabella." I nodded, trying to keep my tone light. I knew our last encounter hadn't gone too well, and I didn't want her to feel intimidated by me. Directing my attention to the woman next to her, I acknowledged her presence. "Angela, right?"

She smirked, giving my the once over boldly. "Hey."

Her stare made me feel self-conscious for some strange reason, which didn't happen often. I cleared my throat and addressed Isabella. "I see you're running in the park again."

"Yeah," she exhaled with a smile, leaning her weight on her left leg. "I gotta keep my figure, you know."

I didn't even get to open my mouth again when Jessica spoke next to me. "So, what are you doing later, Bella?"

Both mine and Isabella's eyes widened as we snapped our heads in Jessica's direction almost on unison.

"Uh…" Isabella stammered, glancing from her to me with a panicked expression on her face. "I don't know. I don't have any plans. Why?"

"You wanna come over to my uncle's house?" Jessica said in a chipper voice. "We're making hot dogs."

"Uh…" Isabella looked at me, searching for help.

"Jessica," I said in a firm tone as soon as I got over the shock of her inviting Isabella to my house.

She ignored me. "So?" she insisted, staring at Isabella expectantly. "You wanna come?"

I was livid. What the hell was she thinking inviting a stranger into my house? Of course, Isabella seemed like a very nice person, but she was still practically a stranger. I could count the few sentences I had exchanged with her on one hand.

Isabella must have noticed my indignation, because she said quickly, "I… I don't think that's a good idea."

Jessica frowned, oblivious to the warning glares I was throwing her way. "Why not?"

"Forgive her rudeness," I interfered, addressing Isabella. She nodded quickly, looking mortified, and I turned to my niece. "Jess, it's not common for people who barely know each other to…"

She rolled her eyes, cutting me off. "But we know Bella. She's not a stranger or anything,"

Isabella shook her head apologetically. "Jess, I really can't come."

"Oh, come on," she whined in response, pouting at Isabella. "Please? It's just me and Uncle Eddie. I'm staying at his place until tomorrow night. Don't you like hot dogs?"

"She does," Angela cut in, grinning at her friend pointedly. "She likes them a lot."

"Please?" Jessica begged again, clasping her hands in front of her and jumping up and down.

"Yeah, you should totally go, Bella," Angela insisted, the grin never leaving her face.

Isabella looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I actually felt bad for her. In fact, I felt bad for the both of us. Like most children, Jessica had no common sense whatsoever while Angela seemed to be attempting to shove her friend into my arms. Well, figuratively of course.

"Ang…"

"Please, please, please, please?" Jessica continued begging, and I thought with a mental sigh that she was going to turn me gray at thirty-four.

Isabella looked like she was really debating on what she should do. After a long minute in which only Jessica's petulant whining could be heard, she finally said, "Only if Angela comes, too."

"Okay," Jessica agreed, not even bothering to ask my opinion on the matter. I was really starting to wonder what kind of manners her parents taught her. None apparently.

I was going to have a little chat with her later.

"No," Angela said, holding her hands up. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have plans for later this evening. I have a date."

Isabella glared at her. "No, you don't," she said in a low, menacing voice.

Angela smirked, seeming to be enjoying her friend's discomfort. "Yeah, I do. Did I forget to tell you?" I could detect a hint of mockery in her tone as she brought her forefinger to her chin and adopted a pensive posture.

"It's alright if you can't," I said to Isabella softly. "I understand perfectly."

She glanced at me then at Jessica, and finally said with a heavy, yielding sigh. "I have to change clothes first."

I swallowed thickly, feeling my throat suddenly go dry. She was coming.

"We can pick you up," Jessica offered, again not asking me.

"No, no." Isabella shook her head adamantly. "There's no need to bother. I'll… grab a cab or something…" She glanced at me tentatively, and I held my hand out.

"Give me your phone," I demanded, my voice hard. She was not to blame for the situation we were in, but I couldn't keep my irritation to myself. I wasn't very good at hiding my emotions. She dug into her pocket and handed me her phone with a shaky hand. I started to feel bad that I was taking my frustration out on her. I typed in my number and saved it under the name of Edward C. Then I typed my address and saved it in her ‚notes' folder.

"Here you have the address," I said, giving back her phone and trying not to sound as sullen as I was feeling. "I saved my phone number just in case."

She nodded, biting her lip and avoiding meeting my eyes.

"When are you coming?" Jessica inquired eagerly. "What hour?"

"Seven?" she replied softly, this time searching my face for approval.

I gave a slight nod as an only answer.

"Okay. We'll see you then," Jessica said as we started heading for the park's exit. "Don't even think about not showing up or I'm going to get really mad at you," she called, walking backwards.

Once we were back on the sidewalk, heading home, I turned to her with a hard expression. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Jess?"

Her eyes widened in surprise at the fact that I was scolding her. "What do you mean?"

"You just invited a stranger into my house," I gritted, fighting not to let my temper get the best of me.

"But she's not a stranger," she said weakly.

"Yes, she is, Jessica," I hissed, grabbing my hair in a fierce grip. "Jesus Christ."

We walked in tense silence the rest of the way. As I opened the door to the building for her, I murmured in her ear, "Don't you ever do this again, you hear me? Never again."

~~ 0 ~~

Later that evening, Jessica and I crossed paths in the hallway. She was coming out of her room and I was heading into the living room.

"I'm sorry," she said remorsefully as soon as she saw me.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I replied. "The deed is done."

She sighed heavily. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yes," I answered truthfully. "Very mad. But I'll get over it eventually."

Just then, the intercom started buzzing. Turning around, I walked over to it and pressed the answering button.

"Yes?"

"Sir," Peter's light voice floated through the air, "there is a Miss Swan here to see you."

So her name was Isabella Swan.

"Send her up."

Only a couple of minutes later, the doorbell rang. Jessica was nowhere to be seen, and I assumed she was either in the living room or in her bedroom.

I took the few steps to the door and opened it. There, on the other side stood Isabella, her face set in a serious expression as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously. Now, I had seen women wearing dresses many times before, including my wife, but the dark green one she had on caused me to stare rudely.

"Hey," she said quietly.

My gaze snapped to hers, embarrassed that I had been caught ogling her. "Come on in," I cleared my throat, ushering her inside.

"I'm so sorry," she said abruptly, whirling around with apprehensive eyes. "I should have stood my ground and said no…"

"You're here now. It doesn't matter anymore," I cut her off, telling her the same thing I had said to Jessica earlier.

"I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding," I assured her. "And I know my niece can be very convincing when she wants. She would have kept insisting until you said yes."

"I won't be staying long," she said, starting to take off her knee-length boots. "I promise." She removed her trench coat and stood awkwardly.

"You can stay for as long as you want." I held my hand out. "I'll get that." I took her coat and her bag and put them in the nearby closet, before motioning for her to follow me. "Come."

I lead her into the living room where Jessica was seated on the couch watching TV.

"Hey, Jess," Isabella greeted, and Jessica's head spun in her direction.

"Hi." She grinned widely, taking in her outfit. "Oh, I like your dress."

"Thanks," Isabella replied shyly.

Jessica patted the space next to her eagerly. "Sit with me."

Isabella complied, and I remembered my manners.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I offered. "I have wine, beer, scotch…"

"A glass of wine would be fine, thank you."

"Red or white?"

"White," she said immeditely, not needing time to think. I had always liked a woman who knew what she wanted, even if it was something as trivial as her beverage preferences.

Heading over to the bar, I uncorked a bottle and poured two glasses while Isabella and Jessica started an animated conversation about the show playing on TV. I glanced over at the two of them, and couldn't help but smile. They did seem to get along pretty well, even with the age difference between them. Maybe Isabella liked children, too.

"Here you are," I said, handing her the glass.

She looked up at me with a smile, and I noticed just how big and round her brown eyes were. They gave her an air of innocence that I found endearing. "Thank you."

"I'm hungry," Jessica chimed in, bringing both our attention to her.

"I'll go get to work, then," I said, resigned that I was going to have to fend for myself. I didn't think Jessica wanted to help now that Isabella was here.

I was about to head out of the room when Isabella spoke. "I can help," she said over the rim of her wine glass, peering at me warily.

"You don't have to," I said, not wanting her to feel obligated. She was a guest, after all.

She got up, taking her glass with her. "I want to."

I nodded and guided her towards the kitchen, glad that someone was willing to help, because I honestly had no idea what I was doing. Cooking was not one of my fortes. I barely knew how to make an omelet without burning the building down.

Jessica remained glued to the TV like I suspected she was going to. Apparently, the TV show was more important than contributing in making dinner.

"I've never made hot dogs," I confessed as I started pulling items from the fridge. We had made a trip to the closest grocery store shortly after we got home from the park. I had found a hot dog recipe on the internet and bought the items it required. I only hoped I got them right.

"No?" Isabella looked at me in surprise from where she was leaning against the counter. It felt strange having a woman in my new house. No one had seen it yet except for Jessica. Not even my parents.

I shrugged, walking over to her and placing the groceries on the counter. "Have you?"

"Many times." She smiled sadly, glancing out the large window. "My dad used to love them."

"Used to?" I inquired curiously as why she was using past tense when referring to her father.

She nodded, not tearing her gaze from the window. "He passed away."

Oh.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said gently.

She took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled and looked at me. "I got used to the idea. It happened four years ago. My parents were in a car accident. Drunk driver. They both died on the spot."

I really felt for her. I knew all too well what it was like to lose someone who had an important place in your life. "It must have been hard, for a young girl to suddenly lose both parents."

"It was. It still is. But now I have my aunt Kate. You remember the woman from the bookstore?" she asked, and I nodded. "She's my dad's sister."

The subject was closed when Isabella turned to inspect the ingredients I had placed on the counter.

"This is everything I bought from the store," I explained. "I found an online recipe and these were the ingredients listed."

"Mmhmm," she hummed. "This should do. Do you have any garlic?"

"Oh, yeah." I opened the fridge again and pulled out the garlic I had bought.

"Can I have some ice?"

"Sure," I replied, not really getting what she needed ice for. "What for?"

She smiled sheepishly, holding up her glass. "I like my wine with ice in it."

"That's a bit… unusual," I replied with a chuckle, taking the glass from her nonetheless. "Especially in this weather."

She chuckled back. "Yeah, I know. I just like my drinks cold."

After adding a couple of ice cubes, I handed her back her drink. She thanked me, took a sip and set it down next to her.

She washed her hands at the sink, then looked down at the ingredients laid in front of her. "I need a bowl," she announced, and I began searching the cabinets until I found what I was looking for.

She set to work, putting meat and spices into the bowl, and I just stood at her side watching. "What do you need me to do?" I asked, not realizing I was standing too close to her until she raised her head to glance at me.

She flushed and looked back down rapidly. "You can chop the garlic and the onion if you want."

I found a chopping board that I didn't even know I had and began peeling the garlic.

"So, are you originally from Chicago?" I inquired, making small talk as we worked side by side. She seemed to know what she was doing, while I could bet my skills in handling a knife matched those of a toddler.

"No. I'm originally from Forks, Washington."

"Really rainy weather, right?"

Isabella chuckled. "You could say that. And you?"

"Well, I'm a born and bred Chicagoan," I said proudly, because I really loved the city.

"It's a good city," she agreed. "I like it here. Plus, you guys have a lot of great schools."

My interest was immediately piqued. "You're a student?" She looked young, but in these days you could never tell a woman's real age.

"Yeah." She beamed. "I go to Columbia College."

"Arts?"

"Journalism."

"Really?" I smiled, pleasantly surprised.

"Mmhmm."

"And you live with your aunt?"

"No. I live with Angela. We're both from Forks. We actually grew up together."

We continued working in silence for a few more minutes. Jessica came to see what we were doing, grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and went back to watching TV.

"What did you do with the house in Forks?" I couldn't help but ask after a while. "I assume no one lives there anymore."

"I rented it. I don't want to sell it yet."

She sipped on her wine, then turned to look at me and gasped.

"Are you crying?" There was amusement in her voice, and I wiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"This onion is killing me," I confessed with a husky laugh.

Isabella set her glass down then put her hand on top of mine gently. I froze, not understanding what she was doing until she took the knife from me and slid the chopping board in front of her. She finished my task for me in a matter of seconds, manuvering the knife impressively. The gesture reminded me of Tanya, but to my complete surprise it didn't make me sad or angry. It was… comforting seeing this domestic scene unwind in front of my eyes.

"So, what is it that you do for a living?" she questioned, starting to stir the sauce in the pan.

"I'm a lawyer," I said, pulling out a chair and sitting down as I continued to watch her a bit mesmerized.

"Nice." She grinned, showing off a very nice pair of white teeth.

I found myself smiling for the nth time since she had arrived. "I work for my father's firm. Cullen and sons."

Her eyes widened. "Cullen and sons?"

"You've heard of it?"

"Of course." She actually looked impressed. Cullen and sons was one of the most important and reputable law firms in Chicago, and apparently she knew that as well. "Wow. So your name is Edward Cullen."

"That's right."

"Wow," she uttered again, shaking her head. "You must have a lot of money," she muttered, but quickly caught herself. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

I didn't answer. I simply stared at her, amused by her rambling.

She turned off the stove and turned around, taking in her surroundings as if for the first time. "So…um… you live alone?" she asked, biting on her lip.

I smirked, cocking an eyebrow at her. "As you can see."

~~ 0 ~~

"Wow," Jessica said in awe, her mouth full. "This is really good." She took another large bite of her hot dog and practically inhaled it.

"Thanks," Isabella said, flushing at the compliment.

"My mom never cooks like this," Jessica complained.

"Jess, we don't talk when we have food in our mouths," I scolded. I could swear she only behaved like this when she was with me. Never in her parents' presence. Maybe I was a bad influence on her after all.

"This is delicious," I complimented Isabella, pointing to my plate.

Her cheeks turned a bit redder, and I must admit I found her reactions quite… cute.

"I should go," she murmured sometime later as she finished her second glass of wine. She glanced at her watch and then got up, preparing to leave.

I was on my feet in a nanosecond. "We'll drive you home."

"No, no. There's no need. I'll grab a cab again."

I scowled. "It's not safe at this hour of night."

She waved me off nonchalantly. "I'll be okay."

"Jess, go get dressed," I instructed, and she didn't need me to tell her twice. She ran towards her bedroom as I leaned towards Isabella and said firmly, "I insist."

I'll be damned if I was going to let her wander the streets alone at almost eleven thirty at night. I might have had a temper, but above all, I was a gentleman. I would have never been able to forgive myself if something happened to her.

I helped her put on her coat and then got my jacket out of the closet. Jessica came out of her room fully dressed, her jacket zipped all the way up, and I winked at her approvingly.

As we passed Peter, I saw him watch Isabella with interest.

Once we reached my BMW, I held the passenger door open for Isabella while Jessica climbed in the backseat. I got behind the wheel, put on my seat belt and turned on the car. I reversed out of my parking spot and asked Isabella for instructions to where she lived.

About ten minutes later I had stopped the car in front of a modest apartment building. At least the neighborhood was decent enough, so she didn't have to worry for her safety every time she stepped out of the house.

"Bye, Bella." Jessica leaned between the front seats to give Isabella a hug.

Isabella smiled at her sweetly. "Come visit me soon?" Her question was directed at Jessica, but her eyes were on me.

"We will," I answered reassuringly.

"Thank you for driving me home."

"There's no need to thank me," I said gently. "Have a good night, Isabella."

"You too, Edward."

Later that night as Jessica was fast asleep, I sauntered into the kitchen where the smell of Isabella's cooking still persisted. As I enjoyed a glass of tap water, I couldn't help but notice that she had even washed the dishes, probably while I was on the phone with Emmett. A black object lying lifelessly on the kitchen table caught my attention, and I walked in that direction, picking it up.

It was Isabella's cell phone.

A/N What was that? Is Edward actually starting to come around?

I think we all know what he's going to do with her phone, right? :D

Leave me some much needed love.

xoxo