Chapter 11

Edward Pov

~ December 22nd, 2011 ~

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I sighed, taking off my glasses and rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. I had been pouring over the same page for the last half an hour without making any progress. I felt tired, drained of every drop of energy my body might have stored. I couldn't even concentrate on work anymore, my attention span resembling that of a three year-old.

I wasn't quite sure what was causing this newly developed fatigue that seemed to take over me, but the thought that I needed a vacation was starting to implant itself in my mind with each passing day.

Maybe it was the holidays peeking around the corner that made me crave the peace and quiet. Maybe it was the fast approaching one year anniversary of Tanya's death. Whatever the reason, I just knew, deep inside, that if I didn't take a break soon, I was going to have a mental breakdown.

I needed to just… relax.

Just as I was reaching for the office phone to ask Victoria for a cup of tea, my cell phone started ringing. I grabbed it from the desk, seeing the unknown number. Thinking it might be one of my clients, I leaned back into my chair and took the call.

"Yes?"

"Edward?" an anxious feminine voice greeted me. "This is Angela. And… don't even bother asking how I got your number."

"Okay," I said, sitting up straighter. I would have chuckled, but the distress resonating in my ear kept me from doing so. "What is it, Angela?"

And then she posed the oddest question; one I never thought I would be hearing.

"Do you have any idea where Bella might be?"

I felt my throat constrict, and I asked lowly, afraid to know the answer, "What do you mean?"

Angela took a deep, staggered breath, and I could tell she was about to start crying. "She didn't come home last night. I called Kate and she told me Bella left work yesterday to meet with a new friend called Alice. I'm kind of freaking out right now."

I frowned at the mention of Alice. "Are you sure she said Alice?"

She sniffed. "Yeah. Why?"

"I think I know where she is," I said my worry suddenly converting to irritation. "Don't worry, I'll bring her home."

Hanging up, I rose to my feet, putting on my suit jacket. I glanced at my watch, seeing it was just past nine in the morning then hurried out of the office. I instructed Victoria to cancel my ten o-clock meeting, letting her know I wasn't sure when I was going to be back.

As I climbed into my car and exited the building, my thoughts flew towards last Saturday. My mind replayed in slow motion us bumping into Jasper and Alice and the events that followed. Their reaction at meeting Isabella had been the one I had always expected. I knew my younger brother well. His initial apathetic demeanor was due more to the surprise of finally getting to know the new woman in my life than anything else. He had never been interested in telling me how to live my life, and I was certain he wasn't going to start now. I knew for sure that in time he and Isabella were going to get along just fine. As for Alice… I wasn't too worried about her either. I knew for a fact that she was going to be keeping things to herself and not spreading the word about Isabella until I deemed it necessary.

Alice was a jovial person. She was dynamic, easy to get along with and not to mention that interacting with people was like an advanced skill she had developed over the years. So it was of no surprise to me or to Jasper that she was trying to befriend Isabella.

I remembered the conversation I'd had with Jasper the day following the mall encounter.

"Alice likes her. You can now rest assured you have an ally on your side," he'd said with a chuckle, adding after a long pause, "I like her, too. She seems nice."

I wasn't going to lie to myself about it; knowing I had my brother's support made me feel infinitely better. Isabella was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I didn't plan on giving up on her that easily; no matter what any of them said or thought about it. But having the knowledge that someone was on my side, supporting me in my decisions, lifted a weight off my heart.

Minutes later, I was parking the BMW in the visitor's section of the building's garage. I climbed out and locked the car, heading towards the main lobby with large, hurried steps. The doorman sitting behind his desk recognized me, nodding his head and offering a polite greeting. I said a quick hello in return, going straight for the elevator.

I didn't even get to ring the doorbell twice before the heavy, white front door flew open, revealing a very disheveled-looking Alice. She had jeans on and a beige sweater, and by the look of her, I could swear she had slept in those clothes. She didn't seem neither impressed nor surprised to see me there.

"Oh, hey," she uttered flatly, her eyes narrowed with sleep and her voice slightly hoarse. Turning on her heels, she headed towards the kitchen, leaving me standing in the hallway.

I frowned, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. "Where is she?" I asked, making my way into the kitchen where she was making coffee.

Alice yawned, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "She's still sleeping."

Glancing around the room, I took in the stale ingredients lying around on the kitchen island and the empty bottle of vodka paired with two shot glasses sitting on the countertop.

"What is this?" I snapped, pointing towards the vodka bottle.

"As you can see," she started, pausing to roll her eyes at me petulantly, "… it's an empty vodka bottle."

"Yes, I can see that," I gritted, doing my best to keep my calm.

"Then why ask?" she shot back, turning her attention back to making coffee.

"Don't test my patience, Alice," I hissed, getting aggravated with her. "You got her drunk?"

"No. We both got drunk," she corrected, having the audacity to grin at me. "It was a fun night. I really like her."

I shook my head incredulously. "You are so irresponsible. She missed her morning classes because of you."

She nodded, pouring coffee into a mug. "Yes, and I missed work. You know how dad freaks out when I miss work. It wasn't intentional. It just… happened."

She was so nonchalant about the whole thing, it made me want to strangle her, or at least smack some sense into her. Luckily for me and my spotless record, I managed to refrain myself.

With a glare like only I could deliver, I grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets, pouring water in it. Leaving Alice to her coffee, I exited the kitchen, stomping my way into her bedroom.

My eyes found Isabella immediately. She was lying on her back in the middle of the king-sized bed, clad in a pair of jeans and a white tank top, with her feet bare. Her long dark hair was sprawled all over the pristine white pillow, creating a strong contrast. Her lips were slightly parted as she let out deep, steady breaths.

Approaching the bed, I took a seat on the edge, careful not to startle her. I let my gaze linger on the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, slowly moving upwards to her face. She looked so peaceful; for a moment I almost forgot that I was irritated with her.

Almost.

Reaching out to take hold of her left shoulder, I began shaking her gently.

"Isabella," I murmured, hovering over her silent form. "Wake up."

Two more shakes were all it took for her to come back from dream land. She peeked at me confusedly through narrowed slits.

"Edward?" she croaked, craning her neck to the side questioningly. I nodded, and she smiled, closing her eyes again.

One…

Two…

Three…

"Edward!" she squeaked alarmed, sitting up abruptly. "Ow, ow, ow," she groaned, placing her palms on her temples. "My head."

Yes.

Suddenly, she was very much awake.

"Take it easy," I said, the scowl I was wearing never leaving my face.

She swallowed, her tongue darting out to run over her lips as she eyed the glass in my hand longingly. "What are you doing here?" her soft voice was oozing guilt.

I handed her the water and she accepted it, downing it greedily. Rising to my feet, I crossed my arms over my chest, looking down at her disapprovingly. "You didn't go home last night, and Angela was worried, so she called me."

"Oh my God," she whimpered, burying her face in her palm. "I didn't mean to…"

She was cut off by Alice entering the bedroom. Ignoring me, she went straight to Isabella, handing her a steaming mug of freshly made coffee.

"Here," she said, smiling sympathetically. "This should wake you up."

"Thanks," Isabella murmured, avoiding my gaze.

"You want me to get you a pill for your headache?" Alice offered.

"Yes, please," she answered. Alice scurried off to search for the pill, leaving Isabella and me alone again. Isabella sipped on her coffee quietly while I watched her. Finally, still not meeting my accusatory eyes, she said with a heavy sigh, "Are you mad?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice hard. "And I bet Angela is going to be even madder."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at the mug.

I waved her off dismissively. "Save your apologies for her."

"Edward…"

I knew the repeated apology that was about to fall from her lips was going to make me angry. Sometimes I had a really bad temper. So, before I said something harsh that I would later regret, I turned around to leave. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen," I said over my shoulder, stepping out of the room just as Alice was returning with a couple of Advil caplets.

"Thank you," I heard Isabella say softly, and I remained standing just outside the room for a moment. "He's angry with me."

"He'll get over it," Alice comforted. "That's just his temper speaking. Trust me; I've known Edward my entire life. He's like a big brother to me. An annoying one, that is."

Alice was right. I was going to get over it; just not right now.

I waited in the kitchen five or ten minutes until Isabella made an appearance. I was sipping coffee and gazing out the large window when I heard her light footsteps. Looking in that direction, I saw her standing in the doorway, fully dressed and her hands shoved into her back pockets. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and even though she now looked wide awake, there were still visible traces of a hangover coloring her pale features.

"Ready?" I asked, putting down my mug and walking over to her.

She nodded. "Yeah." I walked past her as she turned to give Alice a hug. "Bye, Alice."

"I'll see you," Alice replied as Isabella grabbed her bag, following me out into the hallway.

I stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the button, waiting for the doors to open. I motioned for her to step in first then took my spot next to her for the short ride.

The tension was so thick between us; you could cut it with the proverbial knife.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out all of the sudden, moving herself in front of me to get my attention. She took a deep breath, looking up at me pleadingly before continuing, "Alice called last night. She said she wanted to get to know me better. She invited me over, and I just… I said yes. I didn't think you'd get mad over it."

Frustrated, I ran my fingers through my hair. She really didn't get it. "I'm not mad that you came here. I already told you Alice is a nice girl, and I think you two could be great friends. I'm upset that you acted so foolishly. Getting drunk and passing out in a foreign house doesn't exactly qualify as responsible behavior, does it? Angela is worried sick about you. Couldn't you at least let the poor girl know you weren't planning on coming home last night? What if she called the police? You can be so puerile sometimes, Isabella."

By the end of my little speech, I was fuming.

Apparently so was she. Her eyes narrowed menacingly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do I speak in riddles?" I snapped at her. "Do you want me to give you the definition of puerile?"

She inhaled sharply, staring at me incredulously. The familiar ding indicated we had reached the first floor.

"You are such a jerk, you know that?" she gritted before spinning around and rushing out of the elevator.

"Where are you going?" I called, my brow furrowed. "Isabella!"

The doorman followed her with inquisitive eyes as she stormed past him, heading towards the exit. He didn't dare address me again as he quickly went back to the newspaper he had been reading.

"Isabella!" I called again, accelerating my pace.

"I'm going home! Alone!" she yelled over her shoulder, opening the front door and stepping outside.

Cursing under my breath, I began jogging to catch up to her. The freezing cold assaulted me as soon as I set foot on the slippery asphalt. Neither the suit I was wearing nor the dress shoes were under any circumstances able to cope with the low temperatures, and I felt my body start to shiver at the unexpected impact. She was putting considerable distance between us with each determined step she took, and I soon found myself running after her. I couldn't remember a time when I had been chasing after a woman before, so this was quite new to me.

"Isabella, it's fucking freezing!" I yelled through chattering teeth, attracting passersby's attention. In my haste, I slipped on some ice that had formed on the sidewalk and almost lost my footing which caused a few very unorthodox words to come out of my mouth. "Come back here. I'll give you a ride home."

"No, thanks," she replied, her large steps never faltering. "I'd rather walk!"

"Stubborn woman," I muttered, glaring daggers at her back.

I finally reached her and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hey," I said, turning her around to face me. "Let me take you home. Please."

She looked away, refusing to meet my eyes, and I noticed hers were moist. The sight made me feel horrible. I was making her cry without having any intention to.

"Idiot," I scolded myself , pulling her close.

She sniffed quietly, and I kissed her hair, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Please don't do that."

I think that was the crucial moment I realized I was starting to care about Isabella. Even though we had known each other for only a few months, she had already gotten under my skin. I went to bed at night thinking about her and woke up the next morning with her still in mind. She was in my thoughts when I worked, when I ate, or when I drove. I'd said to her I wasn't ready for a relationship yet, but both my body and soul were craving it with an intensity that scared me. I was tired of being alone.

~~ 0 ~~

We reconciled quickly and effortlessly. After dropping her off, I made my way back to the office where Dad was waiting for me to discuss a case. Then, sometime after my one o'clock meeting, I was surprised to receive a call from Isabella.

"She's livid," she said, sounding desolate.

"What did you expect?" I scolded gently, glad to hear her voice. "How would you have reacted if you were in her shoes?"

She sighed sufferingly. "I know… I know…"

"She'll get over it," I assured her, using the same words Alice had earlier that day.

"Do you want to come over this evening?" she asked, and there was so much hope in her voice that I couldn't have said no even if I wanted to. "Angela is working the night shift and I don't feel like being alone."

She couldn't see me, but I smiled nonetheless. "Sure. I'll come straight from work."

"Okay." She was smiling back; I could sense it. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Oh, do you like pork?"

"Yes," I replied. "Why?"

"That's what I'm making for dinner."

"Alright." My smile spread into a grin. "I can't wait to taste your cooking again."

She chuckled. "I'll see you later."

Just as I was putting the cell phone down, there was a short knock at the door. Emmett, wearing his thick-rimmed reading glasses, stepped in, closing the door behind him. He walked over to my desk and stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Mom called," he said, looking down at me. "She wants us all present for dinner tonight."

This was definitely… strange. Mom usually only wanted us over for dinner on Saturday, very rarely on any other day. It must have been important. But I had already promised Isabella I would be having dinner with her, and I didn't want to have to cancel, especially after the small fight we'd had in the morning. I felt like I had to make it up to her somehow.

I shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I can't. I already made dinner plans."

"She insisted. She told me it's important," Emmett said, confirming my previous thought.

"I'm sorry. It'll have to wait."

He was silent for a moment, staring at me suspiciously as if trying to decipher something on my face. "Are you seeing that woman? Bella?"

I sighed in irritation, taking off my glasses and tossing them on a stack of papers. "Does it matter if I'm seeing her or not? I made plans and I'm not going to cancel them. Whatever mother has to say can wait."

"Edward, you haven't attended Saturday dinners in over a month. You owe her this much. Don't be a jerk about it," he replied, his voice hard.

He was starting to annoy me, but I knew he was right. I couldn't keep avoiding my mother forever.

"Fine," I conceded, reining in the urge to roll my eyes at him belligerently. It seemed that Alice wasn't only rubbing off on Isabella, but on me also.

Emmett left my office, seeming pleased with my answer. With a heavy heart, I lifted the phone, dialing Isabella's number.

"I'm not going to be able to make it tonight," I said when she picked up, letting my tone inform her that I wasn't pleased with this new turn of events. I would have chosen her company over the one of my family anytime.

"Oh," she exhaled, clearly disappointed. "Did something happen?"

"No. My mother wants me home for some reason, so I'll be having dinner at my parents'. But I can come by afterwards, if you want." I waited for her answer, afraid that she might say we should leave it for another time, after all.

"Okay," she agreed, and I let out a relieved breath. "I'll be waiting."

~~ 0 ~~

I left work around five. Going home to take a shower and change clothes, I settled on a pair of dark-blue jeans, a white button-down and a gray tweed sports jacket. I tried to fix my hair in the bathroom mirror, but it was having one of those bad days when no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to stay in place. I decided I needed another haircut urgently.

By the time I made it to my parents', it was after six. I parked the car in the driveway behind my father's Bentley, getting out and jogging towards the main entrance. It was cold as hell, the extreme temperatures reminding me of the awful nights I had endured in Russia during a winter vacation. I rang the doorbell and waited, pulling my collar up to fend off the icy wind ambushing my ears from all sides. Seconds later I was looking at Miriam; a tall forty-something woman with pale blond hair and striking blue eyes, who had been working there as a maid for a few years. She was wearing her usual navy blue and white uniform and smiled when she saw me.

"Sir," she greeted, stepping aside so I could come in.

"Hello, Miriam," I said, returning the smile as I shrugged off my coat and with it the cold. "Is everyone here yet?"

"Just your older brother," she said, holding her hand outstretched. "I'll take that."

I handed it to her, and was left with my warm jacket on. "Thanks."

Miriam nodded her head towards the living area, and with a sigh I made my way in that direction. The scene unfolding in front of me seemed the exact copy of one cut from a 50's movie. Emmett, wearing brown patent Salvatore Ferragamo dress boots and a white argyle sweater was sitting in an armchair with a glass of whiskey in his right hand and the other resting on his wife's waist. She was perched up on his lap, one of her milky arms wrapped around his neck as she was laughing heartily at something he'd said. She was looking beautiful in red, a color that suited both her fair skin and her long blonde locks. Dad was standing next to the black marble fireplace, holding a similar glass in hand and taking long drags from a long, thin cigar. Cherry flavored. His favorite. He wasn't that big of a smoker, but from time to time he liked to treat himself with one of those cigars. Now was one of those times. Turning my head to the right, I saw my mother sitting on a sofa, her perfectly manicured hands resting in her lap, one on top of the other. She spotted me and rose to her feet, walking over to welcome me.

"Edward, darling!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly as she kissed my cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Mother," I said, kissing her back. Turning my head in my father's direction I acknowledged him with a nod. "Dad."

He smiled, holding up his glass.

"Look at you," Mom said with twinkling eyes, patting my cheek. She was definitely in an exceptional mood. "You are so handsome."

I chuckled amusedly. "I'm your son. What else could you say?"

She rolled her eyes in return, playfully swatting at me.

Someone cleared their throat to get my attention. Rosalie was staring at me expectantly.

"Nice to see you, Rosalie."

The hint of a smirk made its way to her face. "You, too."

"Where's Jess?" I asked her, looking around.

Emmett answered instead, "In Dad's study, playing games on his computer."

"I'm going to say hello," I said and quickly made my exit.

Jessica was sitting in Dad's leather office chair, concentrating on the large screen. From where I stood in the doorway, I could see exactly what game she was playing.

"Solitaire?" I spoke, causing her head to spin in my direction abruptly. "Really? Couldn't you find something more entertaining?"

I stepped into the room, walking over to give her a peck on the forehead.

She shrugged, grinning up at me. "Hey, Uncle Eddie."

"Hi," I said softly, noticing the new piece of jewelry hanging from her wrist. "Nice bracelet."

Her grin widened. "Daddy gave it to me as an early Christmas present." She ran her fingers over the small golden charms, examining them momentarily. Then she got up from the chair, grabbed my hand and led me to the couch. "How's Bella?" she inquired, snuggling into my side.

"How should I know?" I said, feigning ignorance.

She looked up at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm not stupid. I know you're dating her."

At her reply, I let out a low laugh. She was too perceptive for her own good. "Am I now?"

"Duh."

"She's fine," I said with a sigh, rubbing circles on her upper back with my palm. "I was actually supposed to be with her right now."

"Why aren't you?" she murmured lazily, her face now buried into my side.

"Because your grandmother insisted I was here."

She was completely still for a minute then she glanced up with a frown. "What does she want anyway? She never invites us to dinner during the week."

"Who knows what she has in store for us?" I replied sincerely, because when it came to my mother's hidden agenda, I was clueless. "She's full of surprises."

A few minutes later, Jess and I were returning to the living room. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. Shortly after, Jasper and Alice made an appearance. They were holding hands as they stepped into the room, looking like they had just seen a ghost. Alice's panicked gaze found mine, and everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

Behind them, followed the sound of sharp heels hitting the cherry hardwood flooring. One second I was looking at nothing, and the other, a pair of legs came into sight. They were long and tan, wrapped in black pantyhose. A pair of black stiletto shoes connected them to the floor, while the transition towards the rest of the body was made by a blue wool, tight-fitting dress. The shoulder-length hair was even blonder than I remembered while the eyes had remained the same odd shade of gray most men found fascinating.

In two words: Lauren Mallory.

"Bonsoir," she spoke, taking us all in. Her eyes fell on me where they lingered.

I felt my blood starting to boil in anger. So this was all this was about; mom trying to force Lauren on me even though I had clearly told her I wasn't interested. I had half a mind to simply leave, but that would have been exaggerated on my part.

"Lauren, how nice of you to join us this evening," Mom gushed, giving her a hug. "Tu es ravissante, ma cherie."

She smiled almost shyly, returning the hug. "Merci."

"Lauren just came back from Rwanda a couple of days ago," Mom explained, looking at her adoringly. "She was there for over three months getting involved in different noble causes. I thought that deserved a proper welcoming."

Complete silence. The tension was suddenly very thick in the room, and everyone could feel it, except for my mother.

Eventually, Rosalie chimed in, "I didn't know you two were such good friends. But it's nice to see you, Lauren."

"Thank you." She smiled brightly, showing off her cosmetically whitened teeth. "It's good to see you, too. All of you." As she said the last sentence, she looked at me again meaningfully.

I remained impassive, trying to rein in the indignation and disgust that were starting to take over me. I wasn't disgusted with Lauren, per se, because she really was a beautiful woman and no man in his right state of mind could say otherwise. She had her flaws, but overall she was a decent person. At least when she wanted to be. But my mother's scheming and plotting behind my back was really getting to me. What the hell was wrong with her trying to control my life like that? And she even had the gall to complain that I didn't come see her as often.

"You do remember Edward, don't you?" she said, not even having the decency to hide her matchmaking intentions.

"Of course I do," Lauren hurried to answer. "Hello, Edward. Long time no see."

I nodded stiffly. "Lauren."

Mom pretended to be oblivious to the cold greeting I was treating Lauren with. She clasped her hands in front of her in a content manner. "Now we're ready to eat. Everyone please step into the dining room."

We all headed towards the dining room as requested. Once at the table, I went to my usual seat, holding the chair for Jessica who always sat next to me.

"Jessica darling, that seat is for Lauren," Mom said, motioning for Jess to come to her. "You can sit next to me."

Jessica looked up at me powerlessly. I could tell she didn't want to yield her chair to Lauren, but she didn't want to confront her severe grandmother either. I nodded, silently communicating her to do as she was told. There was no need in starting an argument over table seating arrangements.

Lauren quickly replaced her in the seat which I politely pushed towards the table. I wasn't about to be rude to her because of my mother.

The first dish was served; a bowl of creamy vegetable soup that I'd used to hate as a child. Now in my adulthood years, I found it pretty tasty. No one at the table was speaking, the soup in front of them seeming to have captivated their attention. Emmett, the most gluttonous of us, was digging in with gusto, in contradiction with my father who barely touched his food. Dad wasn't a big fan of soups of any kind. He sipped on his wine, throwing pointed looks towards the other end of the table where my mother sat. She ignored him, focusing back on her favorite person in the room.

"Tell me, Lauren," she started, putting her spoon down. "How was Rwanda? You look so thin and tan and simply gorgeous."

Lauren followed my mom's gesture, excited to answer that particular question. "It was very soliciting but also very rewarding. The food was terrible; not even close to what I'm used to." She paused to scrunch her nose for effect, and I actually refrained from rolling my eyes at her. She'd been to Africa; what did she expect?

"I mostly ate fruits, rice and sweet potatoes, and I lost about eleven pounds, but it was worth the sacrifice. We got to help a lot of people."

"I admire you" Mom said reverently, reaching for her water. "I wouldn't have made it a week there, much less three months."

"It definitely feels good to be back home. I missed Chicago. I even missed the wind. I would take wind over rain any time."

"It gets really rainy on winters there, right?" Emmett asked taking a small break from eating. He seemed genuinely curious.

"Well, Rwanda's relatively high altitude provides it with a tropical highland climate, albeit also with plenty of rain. Rwanda's long rainy season lasts from about March to May, when the rain is heavy and persistent. Then from June to mid-September is the long dry season, and then October to November is a shorter rainy season and it's followed by a short dry season from December to February," Lauren explained patiently.

"So what exactly did you do there?"

"Well, I got enrolled in a United Nations World Food Program that supports school feeding. By giving out free meals, you're giving an incentive to parents and to kids to come to school. So it was actually a double cause. You get to alleviate the poverty those kids have to endure by offering them free, well-balanced meals, and at the same time you make sure they get a proper education."

"Wow, that's really noble. Did you hear that?" Rosalie said, addressing her daughter. "Next time you complain about my salmon and lentils recipe, you'd better think twice about it."

"I hate lentils," Jessica muttered under her breath, frowning down at her bowl of soup.

Mom decided to cut in, using her sweetest voice. "How's your mother, Lauren?"

Lauren chuckled, wiping at the corner of her mouth delicately. "She's still in France. Last I heard from her she was having a cocktail on a beach in Côte d'Azur."

Mom sighed exaggeratedly. "I miss her terribly. Tell her to come home already."

"She found herself a new French boyfriend, so I don't think she plans on returning too soon."

Everyone at the table seemed amused to some degree by her answer. Conversation flew smoothly after that. The only persons who didn't find Lauren's adventures in Africa that interesting were Jessica, Alice and me. When she began recalling the time when she broke one nail and had to cut off all of them, I zoned out. All I wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately for me, there were two more courses plus dessert, and I couldn't just get up and leave without a solid reason.

Sometime around the third course, Lauren turned to me. Mom was deep in conversation with Emmett, Jasper was talking to Dad, while Alice was showing Rosalie something on her phone.

"How have you been doing?" she inquired solemnly, leaning a bit closer. "I was really sad to hear about Tanya. I wish I could have made it to the funeral, but I was out of the country when it happened."

Lauren and I didn't know each other that well, but our mothers had been close friends for years. I think Tanya had actually known her a little better than I did.

"I'm fine," I replied with a forced smile. "Life must go on with or without my wife."

"Her death's first year anniversary is coming soon," she pointed out.

"Yes…" I trailed off, not getting where she was going with this.

"If there's anything I can do for you…"

"I'll let you know," I cut her off, going back to cutting my meat.

"Good," she went on, not put off by my unfriendly tone. "You look good, by the way. We should have coffee together sometime. We haven't spoken in years."

"This is a very busy period for me," I said, not wanting to lead her on.

She was quiet for a minute. I could feel her intense stare fixed on my profile. When she spoke again, it was low and very close to my ear.

"I don't want to be intrusive, but are you seeing someone? You seem like you're blowing me off," she murmured, her hot breath fanning over my skin.

"I'm not seeing anyone," I lied, because I knew for sure she was going to be gossiping to my mother as soon as I mentioned another's woman name. "I just don't feel like dating at the moment."

She chuckled, reaching over to pat my left knee. "Who said anything about dating? I just want to have coffee with you."

~~ 0 ~~

I made it to Isabella's apartment well after ten. It was late and we were both working the next morning, but after more than three hours in Lauren's presence I was almost desperate to see her.

She opened the door, and I inhaled sharply at the sight of her. She had on a light green camisole and drawstring short pajama set matched with a pair of very comfortable looking indoor flip flops. I took her in, from her French pedicure, to her silky, creamy legs, the cleavage that showed no sign of a bra, her pouty, slightly reddish lips, and to her long chocolate-brown hair hanging loose across her left shoulder. She looked amazing. So casual, yet so sexy.

"Hey." She smiled, stepping aside to let me in.

I acted on impulse. Taking one large step towards her, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pushing the door close with my foot. She yelped, not expecting the sudden contact, and I brought my mouth to hers fervently. I didn't waste any time in pushing my tongue past her lips and deepening the kiss. It was intense; bordering on frenzy. But most importantly, it was marked by the newly developed sense of urgency burning inside of me. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly, it was downright painful.

Usually, I was very good at controlling myself; refusing to let my urges take over me.

But not tonight.

I let my hands slid down her back until they reached her ass. I squeezed her, probably firmer than I had intended to, pulling her to me until our bodies were flush against each other. It was a bold move on my part, but to my relief she didn't protest against it. On the contrary. She let out a weak, barely heard moan, bringing her arms around my neck. Knowing she was enjoying it as much as I was spurred me on. I kissed her and massaged her backside until I was so hard, I was having problems forming coherent thoughts. The feel of her breasts rubbing against my chest was driving me insane with want. I needed the physical contact like a dehydrated man needs water. I needed to be with her. But I couldn't. Not yet. There was something at the back of my mind keeping me from taking that final step.

Breaking the kiss, I looked down at her through a lustful haze. She had her eyes closed while her parted lips were deliciously swollen.

"Wow," she breathed in awe, and I began peppering soft kisses down her neck.

"Hi," I murmured against her skin, reaching her collarbone and nipping on it with my teeth. "I missed you."

She chuckled, running her fingers through my hair. "You just saw me this morning."

"I still missed you."

"How was dinner at your parents'?"

I huffed. "Torture."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I have dessert," she offered. "You want some?"

Oh, I wanted some, but not the kind of dessert she had in mind.

"Later," I replied, pulling back. I took of my coat, jacket and shoes, taking her hand in mine and guiding her towards the living room. I lay down on the couch, bringing her on top of me. She rested her head on my chest and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of her so close to me.

"What happened?" she asked, touching my shirt where I knew the recent stain was.

"Lauren managed to…" I started saying, realizing only too late I had mentioned Lauren, "… spill wine on me."

"Who's Lauren?" she asked, and there was something in her tone akin to anger.

I opened my eyes and saw that she was watching me with a deep frown. I really had no desire to tell her how my mother was trying to set me up with another woman. I wasn't interested in Lauren, but Isabella didn't know that and I didn't want to worry her for nothing. So, my answer, even though it was the absolute truth, was a bit evasive.

"She's some family friend."

A/N Oh but Bella already knows who Lauren is, doesn't she?

Thanks for reading!

~ Andreea ~

P.S. Also, the lovely Jen created a FB group for TPB. I'll post the link on my profile, so make sure to check it out.