Here's chapter 2... I have a few chapters already written, just have to make some alterations here and there to make it a Twilight-Fic. A bit of Jasper's PoV at the end here. :)
Chapter 2: Errands and other disasters
As she approached the black SUV, a large man hopped out of the driver's side. He could have been an all American football player. "You must be Isabella," he greeted, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. His hand was ice cold and hard as a rock. What was that about?
"Yes, I am," she replied, "But I prefer Bella. You're Emmett?"
"Yes, ma'am, and it's my job to make sure you get where you need to go today, and get there safely."
"Perfetto." Emmett led her to the passenger side rear door and opened it for her. Oh great, she was to be chauffeured around the city in a darkly tinted SUV. If only her sister could see her now.
"You speak Italian?" he asked.
"Sì, sono nata a Firenze," she replied, answering his question twofold. "But I'm afraid my accent needs a little work. I was raised here in the states for much of my life."
"Your family name?" he asked.
"Swan," she replied. "My father's father was not Italian, and neither is my mother."
"Ah, but you are still Italian, and that's what matters," he said. That was the second time that as much was said to her that day.
They fell into companionable silence while Emmett navigated the streets and finally pulled up outside a fresh market. "They have the best of everything here," Emmett said. "My cousin is one of the vendors. You'll not find better tomatoes in Italy herself."
Bella pulled her canvas shopping bags out of her purse and began to stroll through the market, speaking with various vendors. Emmett kept up with her, offering his perspective on certain vendors and what items to steer clear of. "They buy them from the market in uptown, and then double the price, claiming they grew them organically. Liars," he told her under his breath at one of the booths.
They came upon Emmett's cousin's booth and Bella was floored with the quality of tomatoes he had. Emmett wasn't lying when he said she couldn't find better tomatoes in Italy herself. She immediately wanted to run home and make a tomato sandwich. The big-boys were as red as one could get and looked so juicy. "The name's Carmen," the vendor greeted.
"Bella," she replied. "These look amazing." She exchanged pleasantries with the woman, once again explaining the origin of her name. As soon as the woman learned she was Italian, even only a small part, she gave her half a dozen tomatoes for free. It turned out being Italian in this town would benefit her in more ways than one. She thought of taking on her grandmother's maiden name, Azzarà, and it would probably make things even better. What was weird though was all of the people she'd met, apart from the Whitlock guy had golden eyes. Like birds of prey.
"I just love these bags!" one woman said as she was filling Bella's bag with fresh lettuce, onions, potatoes, strawberries and some beans, effectively pulling Bella out of her thoughts. "Where did you get them?"
"I made them actually," Bella answered. She'd bought canvas fabric to stretch her own for paintings and often used the leftovers to make reusable shopping bags. She'd then mix fabric medium into her paints and paint designs on them, to make them more unique.
"Well, if you ever make enough to sell, I'd love to buy some," the woman replied. "My customers would love them, too." Bella smiled at her and made a mental note to stop by at this booth the next time she shopped as well. Provided her produce was up to snuff as well.
Her assumptions on what New York would be like were very far from her experiences since she arrived. She expected to get ignored by the general populace and treated poorly by almost everyone she encountered. Every stereotype she'd heard indicated that New Yorkers were tough, that they put themselves before anyone else, and that if you weren't one of them, you were completely shunned, almost.
But then again, perhaps she really did watch too much television, or read too many trashy romance novels. This New York was happy and joyful most of the time. And she also knew that she'd only seen a fraction of a percentage of the people here, and they hardly spoke for the millions that inhabited the city.
Emmett helped carry the bags back to the car and took her to a pet store where she procured several large bags of dog food. She didn't know how often Emmett might be at her disposal, and the last thing she wanted to do was carry one of these things on a subway or even in a cab. So she figured it was smart to stock up.
The last stop was at an art supply store, another of Emmett's suggestions when she mentioned she was a painter. She needed canvas, frames, some paints and new brushes. Emmett knew the owner here as well, who ensured she got the new New-Yorker and the Italian discount once again. It only furthered her suspicions that she inadvertently got dropped in the middle of something that she wasn't sure she belonged in. But she couldn't help how friendly and welcoming everyone was being. They all treated her as if she were one of their own, not an outsider, not a stranger, but part of the family. She liked that, having come from a small town, herself.
Finally, Emmett took her back home and helped carry all her purchases into the house. She went to give him a tip, but he put the money back in her purse. "You don't need to tip me, Bella. You're one of us. Whenever you need me again, just call this number," he told her, handing her a business card. "I'm happy to help you shop, or take you wherever you need to go." Wow.
She thanked him by kissing his cheek, which was just as cold and hard as his hands, and sent him on his way with a half-sandwich that she had to nearly beg him to take. After putting away all the groceries, feeding Jasper once again, Bella was exhausted. She kicked off her shoes, threw a blanket down on the bare mattress and passed out within minutes.
By morning, she felt rested and refreshed, but still a little sore from all the moving and the lifting. Even though Emmett and the Misters did much of the heavy-lifting, it still took a toll on her. She decided that after breakfast, she'd take Jasper for a run, and then hit up some clothing stores to expand her measly wardrobe a bit.
After dressing in yoga pants a racer-back top, a hoodie and sneakers, Bella donned her headphones, grabbed Jasper's leash and they headed out into the early morning air. She was still sore from the day before, but Jasper needed the exercise, and she wasn't about to let him suffer because she felt like being lazy.
Once outside, she stretched her legs a bit, cracked her neck, and took off towards the park that Esme had taken Jasper to the day before. As she ran, she passed by none other than Jasper Whitlock, the too-good-looking-for-his-own-good jerk.
"Ms. Swan!" he exclaimed, slowing down to talk with her. "How are you this fine morning?"
Bella made a show of removing her headphones, as if it was a huge bother. And in essence, it was… she didn't like being disturbed while running. But it gave her more time to look him over while she kept up her antics. His hair was wild around his face, but perfect. His porcelain skin was flawless, not even a single freckle. "I'm fine thank you," she replied cordially, repelling her thoughts of him. "And yourself?"
"Much better now," he answered. Bella stifled an eye-roll. "I trust that the Cullen brothers were accommodating yesterday?" Accommodating? What the hell did that mean? She choked down her venomous remarks to that statement by staring at his mouth. Full lips pulled up in a slight smirk, it looked as though there was a scar on his upper lip. She wondered at the origin of it.
"Cullen Brothers?" she asked, confused. "Oh, you mean Esme and Alice's husbands? Yes, they were fine, thank you." Bella realized she never learned their actual names, just called them Misters Esme and Alice. Why was that? "It seems to be quite the rivalry you have with them. Did they steal your lunch money as a kid?" She tried to keep the subject light, as she didn't actually want to know the truth. Or did she?
"Something like that," he replied. "I've known them and their wives a very long time. Tell me, Ms. Swan, what are your plans for the day?" One of his perfectly groomed eyebrows quirked up in curiosity. This man was too much.
"After my run, I need to do some more un-packing and organizing, then go buy some clothes. I didn't bring much with me, figuring I'd just replenish my wardrobe here." Bella wondered why he was so curious about her connection with the Cullen brothers. She didn't even know their name was Cullen; shouldn't that have been answer enough?
"I'll let you get to it then," he replied, nodding his head at her and taking off in the opposite direction. She sighed as she fought staring at him again. It did no good to ogle him; it would only fuel him further. She shook her head to rid herself of his image and continued her run. An interesting move this would be, if he continued to be a presence in her life.
Back at home, she took a quick shower, happy that the water was steadily hot and had a good pressure behind it. Her thoughts went back to the mystery that was Jasper Whitlock. During that run, he was wearing a loose fitting sleeveless t-shirt and basketball shorts. She got her first good look at his arms and definitely liked what she saw. He had sinewy muscles that were chiseled from stone. The kind she liked to squeeze her hands around during… No, Bella… do not go there with him. He's got danger written all over him.
His surname told her that he was not Italian, unlike everyone she'd met the day before. Perhaps that was what their rivalry was about. Whitlock sounded like a southern name. He was a southerner in Yankee country. Surely it couldn't be as archaic as that, right?
She gave Jasper plenty of food and water, patted him on the head and went off to find some clothes fit for a social life in New York City. With not spending as much as she thought she would on furniture and kitchen things, her budget for clothing was quite a bit bigger.
At the first store, Saks on 5th Avenue, Bella was admiring a pair of Jimmy Choo's that would obliterate her entire budget, until she got her commission for the next series anyway. The sucker was going to pay her a million dollars for seven paintings. The sales lady who had helped her try on several pairs of shoes was busy at the counter speaking with some burly man in a pinstripe suit. Apart from a doctor with a time-travelling blue box, who still even wore those anymore?
She went back to perusing the area and decided to splurge on a few things. She could use her credit card and then when the money came in from the buyer, she'd have more than enough to cover it. "I'll take all this," she told the sales agent. She handed the woman her credit card and looked dreamily at all the items she bought. Never in her life had she been able to afford such things. And now, here she was, living in New York, city of dreams, and all of hers were coming true.
"Just sign here, please," the sales lady stated, handing over the sales slip. Bella signed it absentmindedly, and told the sales lady to simply put the receipt in one of the bags. Afterwards, she hit up three more stores, not bothering to have the clerks even tell her the amount she owed. She didn't want to know.
At the end of the day, she returned home with more purchases than sense, and wondered what the hell she was thinking. "I'd better look at the receipts, at least prepare myself for the damage that is sure to appear on my credit card receipt," she said aloud. Jasper arfed at her, as the sole indicator that she could at least say she was talking to him and not to herself.
She fished the receipts out of each bag and set them on the table. Heaving a worried sigh, she sat down, pulled out her calculator and tallied up the totals. "Two hundred grand! Oh my god. Two Hundred grand?!" She knew then and there that she'd have to return more than half of what she bought. Even with her new commission coming in, she couldn't afford that much of a splurge. Or I could claim credit card fraud, she thought. No, that would only end up badly for her, she added.
Glancing at the receipts, she noticed that something was off. All of them stated "amex" as the charge type, and the last four digits of the card number did not match her card. Every single one of them had the same card number, but she knew it wasn't her card.
"Well, what on earth?" she asked aloud. Not wanting to get caught up in some identity theft scandal, she called the first store she visited. "Yes, hello. I made a rather large purchase at your shop today, and I was just looking at the receipt. The card number does not match my information. I'm thinking that the wrong card got charged by mistake?"
"Just let me look into that ma'am," the sales clerk replied. Bella couldn't tell if it was the same person who had helped her earlier. "Oh yes, is this Miss Swan?"
"Yes," Bella answered.
"Yes, I was not supposed to inform you, but seeing as you figured it out on your own, I suppose there's no harm in you knowing now. Your purchases were paid for by an anonymous benefactor."
"What?!" Bella bellowed.
"I wasn't given a name, only payment information," the lady replied. "And as far as I know, said anonymous benefactor was paying for all of your purchases today."
"Yes, the same information is on all of my receipts," Bella stated.
"Well, lucky you! I hope you figure out who it was. I'd be interested to know!" Bella ignored her gossipy tone, thanked her, and ended the call. Who on earth could be paying for all her things? She checked her slips from the day before and noticed that it was her own information on the receipts. So whoever decided to pay for her things did not do so the day before.
"What do you think, Jazz?" she asked the golden retriever, who was lying at her feet, panting happily. She thought about her day and scanned her memory for any indication of who was behind the generous gift. Then she remembered the burly man in the pin-stripe suit at Saks. Thinking it over, she saw him cock his head in her direction as he spoke to the sales woman. She nodded and smiled while she listened and took a black Amex card from him.
Okay, who the hell was he and why did he pay for her purchases? As she thought about the rest of the day, she had seen him at least two more times at other stores. And if he was the man behind this, then he was likely lurking about at all the places she went to.
"Jazz, let's go for a walk," she said to her dog, who immediately hopped up off the floor and was prancing about excitedly. She quickly changed into her workout gear and led the dog outside, hoping that Mr. Burly Pinstripes would still be nearby. As she walked through the neighborhood, sure enough, she saw him sitting on a park bench.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," he said, removing his stereotypical fedora. "Have we met?"
"No we haven't, and that's precisely my point. Why did you pay for all my purchases today?" She glared at him, crossed her arms and tapped her foot, expectantly. He didn't reply right away, instead took his time giving her the once over, in a very lewd manner. Bella rolled her eyes at him. She did notice that his eyes were burgundy. Just like… just like Jasper Whitlock. Oh that little shit! Bella thought.
"I'm sure I've no idea what you're talking about," he replied, his eyes glistening. He was smirking at her, daring her to continue.
"Yes you do. Either you or someone you work for paid for my things today, and I demand to know who. And trust me buster, you do not want to cross me."
The man regarded her as if deciding whether or not she was even worth the effort. "Jasper Whitlock," he whispered. "He's my boss. He's the one that wanted to buy your shit today."
"Mm hmm, thank you for your cooperation, Sir," she replied, bowing to him and returning home.
"I want you to find out as much about her as you can," Jasper Whitlock told his second-in-command Peter Whitlock. "Her name is Bella Swan, she just moved here. She shopped at the Cullens' shops, man. I need to know if she's an associate of theirs or if it really was a coincidence. Does she work for the Volturi?" When he ran into her that morning, jogging with her dog, she seemed so genuinely innocent, but then again, some people were very good actors.
"Got it, Major," Peter replied, hanging up the phone. Jasper had never had a woman affect him the way Bella had in just a short time. Even when he first laid eyes on her when she got out of the cab, he knew she was something special. And then when she so clearly put him in his place, calling him out on his "dick measuring contest" with the Cullen brothers, he just knew she had to be his. One way or another. But first, he had to make sure that she was truly an innocent. And then he'd make sure she remained innocent. He'd do his damnedest to never let her see the evil that lurked behind those Italian scum.
He wondered if she was Italian, whether her parents named her Bella because they just liked the name, or if they were from that area of Italy. Or perhaps she chose the name herself. More and more people were changing their names, simply because they could. She certainly looked like she could be Italian. Long auburn hair with hints of dark mahogany in it, big brown eyes that sliced right through his soul, and beautiful skin the color of honey cream. Just enough color in her skin to give away that she was not simply Caucasian, but there was something else in her roots.
Even beneath the baggy t-shirt and jeans she wore, he could tell she had a hell of a figure. Curves in all the right places, tight muscles in others. When she folded her arms across her chest before berating him, he could see hints of definition in her upper arms. The woman took care of herself, and from her demeanor, he could tell she was a force to be reckoned with. The kind of woman that wouldn't put up with any shit from anyone, including him. And that was exactly the kind of woman he needed.
As he thought about the mahogany haired beauty, he gazed upon the new paintings that had arrived earlier that week that now had a home on the walls of his office. He'd visited a gallery in Chicago while on a business trip and found this series of paintings. They were bold and colorful, full of meaning and emotion. Whoever painted them truly had a gift. The artist had chosen to remain anonymous and only dealt with him through an agent, who was excellent at confidentiality. The woman didn't even give away whether the artist was a man or woman. Though the paintings had a certain feminine quality to them, making him think they were done at the hands of a woman. A woman scorned.
Each canvas was signed and dated, but the artist used a pseudonym of the word Destiny. No one at the gallery knew Destiny's true identity as the work was only ever delivered by the agent Destiny worked with. Jasper knew the agent wasn't the artist in disguise, as Miss Weber didn't have an artistic bone in her body, according to Jared, the art student he sent to Sheboygan to check out the gallery.
He'd even tried to track the payment of the paintings to find out the name on the bank account, but rather than banking the check, it was cashed. Someone was walking around with five hundred thousand dollars in cash, or was smart about it and didn't deposit it all in one other bank account. Whoever this Destiny was went a long way to hide his or her identity for reasons unknown. Miss Weber said to him on the phone that it was because he or she wanted to remain anonymous. He or she didn't paint for the money, but for the love of the art.
Jasper had already made arrangements for Destiny to be commissioned for another series of paintings. One that would adorn the walls of his restaurant. After seeing this artist's work, he knew that the style would be perfect for Whitlock's, which would be opening in a few months. The artist had promised to have them done by then, especially when Jasper put a price of a million dollars on them.
He found that money, depending on the amount, could get any deadline moved up. Destiny apparently didn't do commissions, but when he threw out the dollar amount; his or her mind was changed almost immediately. Yeah, money truly did make the world go 'round.
"I've emailed you the file, Major," Peter said when Jasper answered his call.
"Good work," Jasper replied and hung up. He went to his computer and called up the email program. He read through the file provided on Bella Swan and was very pleased with what he found.
"Isabella Marie Swan, date of birth February 19, 1988. Daughter of Renee and Charles Swan," he read aloud. He went on to read that she was born in Florence, and lived in Italy for two years before her father was reassigned to a post in the states. Sheboygan, Wisconsin, wherever that was. Peter knew his boss well, and knew that he'd want information on the girl's parents as well. Renee was born to an Argentine pastor and an American southern debutant. Charles was only half Italian, Sicilian at that, though. His Italian ancestors were from the Azzarà family. Not a name Jasper was familiar with, but it helped knowing that her roots were truly in Italy. How much did she know about her heritage though?
She graduated from the University of Wisconsin in Madison with a degree in Art History at the age of nineteen. Clearly an over-achiever. He thought about that and figured that was one of those degrees that one really couldn't do much with. There was little information as to the motivation behind her move to the big city, nor any connections with the Cullen family. He was relieved at that last part. If she was only friends with them, and not associated in any other way, he was free to pursue her without their backlash.
"Peter," he stated when his associate picked up the phone. "Find out where she's shopping today. Follow her around casually, and make sure all her purchases are paid for."
Three hours later, he learned his credit card had been charged a total of twenty-seven times, each purchase amounting to at least five thousand dollars if not thrice that. Damn, the woman could spend money. "Major," Peter croaked as he stepped into Jasper's office. The look on his face told him something bad had happened.
"What the fuck did you do?"
"Somehow your girl figured out that her credit card wasn't being charged at any of the stores. She demanded to know who was paying for all her shit, and when I wouldn't tell her, she gave me a look that told me if I were human she'd have beat the shit outta me She's a hell of a woman boss, don't let go of her." She was a feisty fire-cracker, Bella Swan. And it made him want her all the more.
So, what do you think Jasper is a part of? And are the Cullens really part of the Volturi? Or are they just innocents that were pulled into a grander scheme?