Chapter 18:

BPOV

Two weeks later on a Thursday I find myself seated in Mrs. Beagle's living room. We're sitting together polishing the silver tea set her grandmother left her while she talks hard times growing up in the early fifties. The tea set is a family heirloom, brought over from Italy when her grandmother immigrated to America. There are a lot of pieces making for tedious work.

Even after two hours I still haven't broached the subject I've been avoiding for weeks. I'm very nervous to tell Mrs. Beagle I'm moving to Seattle because it means giving her my two weeks notice. I think it will be harder telling Mrs. Beagle than it was telling Charlie. Though, in hindsight that did not go so well either.

My father didn't approve at first, accusing me of giving up my life just to "follow a man". While I admit I am going to Seattle because that's where Edward's new job is, I'm not making this change just for his benefit. A new city is going to be beneficial to me too, and I'm looking forward to it. Charlie had to huff and puff of course, disliking the idea of his only daughter moving another two hours further away. It's his job to worry about me, I realize this. The timing is just bad considering Edward is still not Charlie's favorite person. After hours of being lectured over the phone about the dangerous parts of Seattle, the best ways to hunt for apartments, and the importance of carrying pepper spray Charlie finally gave me his blessing.

Then I told him Edward proposed.

I shake my head while thinking about how loudly Charlie yelled when I dropped that bomb. Edward could hear his voice through the phone from the other side of the room. He shouldn't have been so surprised; I learned from Edward that he asked for Charlie's blessing during our exile in Forks. My father knew this would be coming at some point. Charlie claimed he wasn't expecting the proposal to happen for quite some time. He even had the nerve to ask if I was pregnant.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Mrs. Beagle asks pulling my attention back to the present.

"Oh, I um... was just remembering something my father said the last time we spoke on the phone."

"Would you like to talk about it? I've been going on and on all afternoon, you must be sick of the sound of my voice."

I smile warmly at my dear old friend. She truly is more of a friend to me than a client. Sure, I have to put up with her many doctor appointments and taking her around to all the old lady club meetings, but I can honestly say I have fun hanging out with Mrs. Beagle. She has some great stories about her life; falling in love and marrying three separate times, and all the adventures she had traveling the globe.

"There actually is something I've been meaning to tell you," I hedge trying not to get choked up. "I told you that Edward and I got engaged. We've been talking a lot about where we want to put down roots, since for some rather unfortunate reasons Port Angeles doesn't seem like the best place for us anymore."

"You're moving?" she questions, sadness and surprise in her voice.

"I don't want to leave, Mrs. B, but Edward and I have no future here. We've made mistakes that we can't take back and the consequences have been harder to deal with than we ever expected. I feel terrible for leaving you, but you have no idea the stress we've been under lately because of a stupid... a bad decision we made," I say, so close to just breaking down and telling her the whole truth.

"Bella, don't get yourself all tied up in knots. I know all about the trouble you and Edward have been through. I saw the story on the news."

I physically cringe. Mrs. Beagle is the one person who I'd thought had been spared from my very public indiscretion. "You did, really? Did you watch the video?"

"Yes. I didn't know how to watch a You... Tube, so I just gagled it."

I laugh despite my embarrassment. Mrs. Beagle knows the search engine is pronounced Google, but she still likes to say it wrong because it makes me laugh every time.

"Why didn't you tell me, Mrs. Beagle? I've been sick over here for months thinking you would be disappointed in me," I say hanging my head.

"It was none of my business, Bella. And I'm not disappointed in you in the least. If you ask me, those reporters who hounded you for weeks are the one who should be ashamed of themselves. Yessiree, bob. So, tell me, where are you moving to?"

"Seattle. Edward got a job offer to manage a night club."

Mrs. Beagle raises one penciled eye brow with intrigue. "What kind of club?"

I roll my eyes, relieved that she isn't disgusted with me. Still, I wonder how much she actually understands about the lifestyle of a submissive. Did she gagle that too?

"It's a sister club to the one Edward and I belong to here. We're hoping to fit in better among the big city people. Our personal preferences shouldn't be so shocking and newsworthy there."

"So when do you leave?" she asks somberly, placing her hands together in her lap.

"About two weeks. Edward has to run out the end of his contract with the station and then we're free to go."

"I suppose this means you and I won't be spending Thursdays together anymore," she muses sadly.

"I'll make sure the agency that put us together gets you the very best replacement," I promise. "And I'll visit you every time I come to town, if you'd like me too, I mean."

"I would like that very much. So, tell me about the club you and Edward belong to. I've told you all about my adventures over the years. I bet you've had quite a few of your own!"

I place the tea cup I've been polishing down on the coffee table and cover my face in my hands bashfully. Am I really going to tell a seventy four year old woman about my sexcapades? She certainly looks like she wants to hear about them.

"Okay, Mrs. B. I'll tell you the real story of how I met Edward," I begin slowly.

"I felt like something was wrong with me when I couldn't feel satisfied by my first boyfriend. The only time I really enjoyed sex was when I imagined myself submitting to my partner. So I joined the club with hopes of feeling like I might finally fit in somewhere. I knew at the club I'd be surrounded by people like me and it was an exciting idea. I also heard this rumor that Edward was a member. I sort of had a huge crush on him from watching the news. Anyway, I was thrilled to learn that Edward really did frequent the club, and was completely blown away the first time I saw him... perform on stage."

Mrs. Beagle chuckles and my cheeks fill with color. This is one of the most awkward talks we've ever had for sure, even more so than when we debated the advantages of crotchless panties over the regular kind.

"What sorts of things does Edward do on stage?" she asks conspiratorially.

I smile and shift in my chair. "Um, all kinds of D/s stuff... since we've been together he only performs with me. We don't have sex with anyone but each other," I say wanting to make that point very clear. "Edward is partial to handcuffs, floggers, and teasing me with a variety of other toys. Most of all he enjoys being watched and he introduced me to the art of exhibitionism. I'd never had sex in front of anyone until I did it with him."

"What's better about being watched?" she asks honestly intrigued by my story.

"Edward describes it as feeling powerful. I find it freeing, almost like I can fly or something. When we're both naked and in the throes of passion it just adds another level of pleasure to think about those people in the audience. I love that they can see Edward's reactions to me, and how he makes my body respond to his touch. I've never been skydiving, but I imagine the rush you feel falling through the air is how I feel on stage just before I come. It's like the audience is seeing the real me, no walls, no boundaries."

Mrs. Beagle smiles wide and nods in understanding. "You make it sounds so therapeutic."

"It really is, at least for me. I think that's why I've been feeling so out of sorts since the scandal happened."

"What do you mean, dear?"

"We haven't done a public scene since before the video was leaked to the Internet. I told Edward I couldn't perform with him anymore because I can't stop worrying about getting exposed so gruesomely again," I explain sadly.

"You just told me how wonderful you feel on stage where you have nothing to hide. So what if the world sees you that free? You just said it was liberating."

I laugh under my breath. "Well, unfortunately 'the world' includes my father. And my clients, my mother, my future mother and father-in-law... It's different inside the club where the members have an appreciation for what we do on stage. They consider it performance art. Edward's mother on the other hand, nearly dies a thousand deaths if we so much as mention the word exhibitionism."

"I see. Well, you're such a wonderful young woman, Bella, and I want the very best for you. So do what is right for you and Edward. Don't let anyone make you feel badly about yourself, you hear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I reply smiling.

"Good. Now, do you think I could get one of those private shows before you run off with that exquisite hunk o' man of yours?"

"Mrs. Beagle! Absolutely not!" I exclaim with mock horror. "I'm not doing any more private shows! Maybe in Seattle... someday."

"Oh, poo," she retorts, waving her hand at me like I'm a kill joy. "Fine, suit yourself. Just do me one favor before you leave this old woman to her lonesome."

I roll my eyes at her dramatic tone. "What's that," I say humoring her.

"Call me Delores for gosh sake!"

It's just after dusk when I say good night, feeling sad about leaving Delores alone in her big empty mansion. She truly is what I'll miss most about this town once we're gone. I climb into the cab of my old Chevrolet and turn onto the main street that will take me back through the center of town. My mind wanders, thinking about the encouraging words the old woman gave me before I left today. She had placed her hands on my shoulders and stared directly into my eyes, her crystal blue orbs practically hypnotizing me.

Delores made me promise that I wouldn't let anyone else in this world try to tell me what was right for me or my life. She was adamant about me understanding that Edward and I shouldn't be expected to adhere to anyone else's social expectations, and instead do what makes us happy. I left her doorstep with tears in my eyes at her kind motherly concern for me. Having someone give me that kind of advice does not happen with any real frequency.

I turn down S. Peabody Street and happen to glance in the rear view mirror, noticing a tan Toyota that was behind me at the red light when I first turned off Mrs. Bea.. Delores' street. It seems to be hanging back, almost like the driver is purposely keeping a safe distance. It continues following me as I make the next left and a nervous feeling begins to wash over me. There aren't many main roads in PA, it's quite possible this person is headed the same direction as me but something just feels wrong about the distance he or she is keeping between our vehicles. I make a last minute decision to turn right onto S Laurel St and then an immediate right onto Vashon Ave. I drive a few blocks before braving a glance in my rear view mirror. The tan Toyota is still behind me. I've basically just driven in a loop, headed back to Peabody St. Shit. Did someone recognize me from the news? I rack my brain thinking if I know anyone with a tan Toyota but come up with nothing. I definitely don't know this person, but they sure seem to know who I am.

Making the next left I head down Peabody until it leads me to Hwy 101 which runs through the center of town. The Toyota is in hot pursuit now that I'm driving faster. My blood pressure is spiking and I consider calling Charlie. Knowing that he's an hour away and there's nothing he can do but freak out I pick up the phone to dial Edward instead. Looking up from my cell to the road I see the traffic light in front of me turning from yellow to red. I slam on the breaks and the tires screech to a halt. My stalker doesn't seem to have noticed the changing light any sooner than me, hitting the breaks and leaving very little space between their car and mine. I look in the mirror and get a closer glimpse of the person driving. It's a blonde woman with large dark sunglasses. What the fuck...

When the light turns green I pull into Toga's Soup House and Deli's parking lot. The deli is open for business so hopefully I'm not in any danger confronting my stalker in this manner. Still, I look around the floor of the car for a weapon to defend myself if the need arises. Purse? Umbrella? Ah ha, ice scraper! The tan Toyota pulls into the parking lot behind me and parks a few spaces away. I'm holding the ice scraper out like a sword as I take a few steps around the back of my car as the Toyota's driver door slowly opens. The blonde woman steps out and turns towards me, removing her sunglasses.

Catie!

"What the fuck are you doing?" I yell the adrenaline and fear making me uncharacteristically confrontational.

Catherine Bennett, aka Kinky Catie, puts her hands up and has the nerve to smirk at me. Perhaps I do look ridiculous cursing this woman out and pointing an ice scraper in her face.

"Hello, Bella," she says calmly.

"I said what the flying fuck are you doing following me around town? I'm going to get a restraining order you psychotic bitch!" I'm fuming now, all the hurt and pain this woman has caused me erupting like a volcano. Has she any idea what her actions have cost me? What she's put me through?

Catie closes her car door and leans against it in a casual pose. Glancing around she checks to make sure there are no witnesses to our exchange. No one from the deli has come out to see what's transpiring in the parking lot. I almost wish we did have an audience. Maybe some of these uber critical town folk would get an honest look at the big heap of crazy stalker I've been dealing with for months and finally grant me a little sympathy.

"I only want to apologize to you, Bella. To you and Edward," she says matter-of-factly.

"Bull shit," I spit back, keeping my defensive pose.

"It's true. You would know that if you read my last letter. Has Edward opened any of my letters?"

She sounds hurt; in thinking Edward might not have opened her letters since she got no response from him. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing he did indeed read her words, see her photos, and watch her video. Her video... In the whirlwind of events that have taken place in recent months I completely forgot that Catie sent us her own sex video along with one of her letters.

"I'm sorry about what happened, about what I did, I mean. I was so angry for being ignored that I sort of lost my mind. I was trying to make Edward talk to me. We could have been so good together if he had only given me a real chance."

I shake my head, disgusted by her absurdity. "Catie, you don't know anything about Edward or me, who we are inside or outside the theater."

"I know more than you think," she responds softly. "I subbed for him once, did you know that? When Jessica was sick. It was the most amazing experience of my life. You and I are similar, Bella, in that I came to realize I was different, submissive, as a teenager the same way you did. Only I never felt like it was right until I was with Edward. I'd doubted my instincts towards D/s until that night we shared the stage, and I knew I was where I was meant to be. I've never felt the same satisfaction with any other Dom but Edward."

I feel sick to my stomach to learn that Catie had, in fact, submitted to Edward. He swears he can't recall ever being with her, and I have been denying the possibility that he actually did and simply can't remember. I want to know if their shared experience included sex, but I'll never give Catie the satisfaction of seeing my jealousy.

"I just wanted to feel that again, the energy, the feeling of being exactly where I belong." Catie rubs her hand over her face, and I continue to stare, soaking in her words. "I was next in line," she whispers hoarsely. "Then Master Edward scened with you and the list on the wall came down. I thought maybe it was temporary, I mean, Edward Cullen had never had a girlfriend before. Everyone knew his passion was the theater. But the list never went back up; Edward no longer took subs at all. I was robbed of my destiny. Your name wasn't next on the list. It wasn't on there at all when it came down."

I know this part of the story, of course. Once Rosalie figured out who Kinky Catie was we realized she had been the next sub on Edward's signup sheet. I didn't know what to say. I can sympathize, but in no way regret letting Edward bump me to the front of the line. I feel like Edward is my destiny too.

My arm relaxes and I pull back the ice scraper weapon. Catie offers a small smile, then takes it back with a gasp as she notices the diamond ring on my left hand.

"What is that?" she asks.

"You knew we were dating, Catie. It's the reason Edward hasn't needed a fill-in submissive for over a year. Edward isn't the same Dominant he was when you scened with him. We fell in love. We moved in together. Now we're getting married."

"I wish Edward had just explained that to me. When I approached him at Channel 6. He should have told me."

I ignore her attempt to turn this around on Edward. "Why did Gabe and Sandra help you?" I demand.

Catie lets out a sigh and wipes a tear from her eye. I'm not deterred by the water works. "Well?"

"Sandra is my coworker. We both work for a small publishing house here in Port Angeles. I threatened to expose her and Gabe if they didn't help me get Edward back."

"He was never actually yours, Catherine," I say coldly. I can't help it; I'm so over this fucking woman.

"I can see that you belong to him. And I'm sorry for ruining your lives," she says through tears. "Can't you explain to him how I feel? I don't want to replace you, Bella. I just want you to share a little. Edward is too wonderful to keep to yourself," she replies indignantly.

I laugh out loud at the absurdity of her request. "Edward doesn't share and neither do I."

"He used to enjoy many women," she says fondly. "Including the time with me."

That jealous feeling roils my stomach again and I am ready to bid Catie goodbye. "It's too late for you to have any kind of relationship with Edward, do you understand me? And I never want to see or hear from you again or I'll get a restraining order. What you did... blackmailing Sandra to take that video of us, and then posting it on the Internet was so cruel, Catherine. You have no idea how much pain you put Edward through. You don't do that to someone you supposedly respect and care about."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I won't do anything like that ever again."

"I know you won't. Because you sent a rather damning video of yourself to my home. And if you ever bother me or my fiancé again I'll not only post that video to the Internet I'll send a copy to your boss at that publishing house you so kindly mentioned. And if you think I'm bluffing, just try me," I say my voice so dark and gravely it scares even me.

"I promise to leave you alone. Please just do one thing for me?" she whispers, sounding defeated and intimidated by my threat. I stare at her blankly, waiting to hear what favor she thinks I owe her.

"Tell Master Cullen that I will always treasure our time together. Make him happy, Bella. He deserves to be happy," she says before turning and getting back in her vehicle.

I stand there, frozen in place, as she backs out of the deli parking lot and drives away.

A/N: Okay this was the last chapter in Port Angeles. Next week E&B are off to Seattle. And I promise they're bringing lemons. ;-)