Disclaimer: We own none of Stephenie Meyer's characters.
AN: Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter. I hope it lives up to expectations. Remember, I am co-writing this with the fabulous Bethaboo! She'll be writing the next fabulous chapter! Enjoy, and as always, remember to review!
BPOV
I walked along in a daze. Edward Cullen had just asked me to dinner with him and I was still trying to decide whether I was hallucinating or if I had just been granted one of the greatest opportunities in my life. Not only would I get to spend extra time with the most intriguing man I'd ever met, I also was granted an excuse for asking him questions and finding out more about him. Never mind that I was supposed to be interviewing him--my real intent wasn't quite that noble. Something about him drew me like a moth to a flame and made me cast out all my trepidations about playboy athletes like him. Despite my better judgment, I was going to use this dinner the best I could. I was determined to find out what made him tick, then perhaps I'd figure out a few interesting tidbits to include in the article to satisfy my boss' craving for personal information.
Some part of me was still wondering why it was me that Edward chose to take to dinner. I'd seen the dark haired bombshell of a reporter walk out earlier. She'd had me shaking in my boots from the predatory glances she'd given all males in the vicinity--a succubus searching for her victims. I couldn't imagine how he'd gone through an entire interview with her, come out unscathed, then proceeded to ask an average looking woman like me--a woman had not only humiliated him but nearly broken his toes. I briefly wondered if he was a masochist, then another thought occurred to me. I froze, uncertain for a moment about what this dinner really meant. Was it a date like I so desperately wanted it to be, or was this a business dinner between two acquaintances? I'd have to let him lead, and decide from there.
"Bella? Are you coming?" Edward's voice broke into my endless flood of thoughts. I tried to smile up at him and he flashed that all too famous grin back at me.
Okay, I thought, feeling my knees weaken, that should be illegal. "I'm coming," I answered, quickening my pace to match his stride. "I'm wearing heels, which are difficult enough to walk in, and for some reason I'm even clumsier than usual in your presence, so I'm trying to be careful so I don't end up tripping us both and somehow crippling you." I blushed when I realized I'd admitted how his presence affected me.
"Hmmm...we can't have you tripping and injuring either of your pretty ankles," Edward mused in an almost bored tone, but I could hear something else underneath. Something hotter. "Why don't you hold on to me, and I'll keep you from falling. There are a lot of cracks in these sidewalks." Without waiting for my answer, he took hold of my hand.
Smooth. Except, unfortunately, he had his hand wrapped around mine the way a mother would guide a small child into a street--not at all what I desired from him. Oh well, I sighed. A girl would take what she could get, and I was currently holding hands with Edward Cullen--skin to skin contact. I shivered at the strange pull I felt towards him, only growing stronger each time I saw him. It was perhaps the strangest feeling I'd ever had in my life, and I didn't even like who he was. Everyone had heard he was a stuck up athletic jock. So far I wasn't sure if the rumors were right, but it was a little too early to tell for sure.
"So," I wondered, trying to add some conversation to our silence, "where are we going? I must admit, I don't have any idea about what restaurants are good around here."
"Well, there is this place I've heard about--Mei Fu--I thought maybe we'd go there. They serve traditional Chinese food and I've heard good things about it. The best thing about the place is that it generally serves groups, so the portions are huge." There was reverence in his tone when he talked about the food.
Oh, I remembered, thinking of all the food that he'd had on his trays at the village. Of course he'd take me to a place that would bring out massive amounts of food. I wondered just how long this dinner would last. "Where's it at?" I questioned, wondering how long I'd get to hold his hand before he had to let go.
"It's just a short walk from here. Why?" he questioned curiously.
"No reason, I was just wondering," I answered. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and we continued walking along the sidewalk until a restaurant came into view. It was painted a brilliant red, and small Chinese lanterns lit the path to the door. Larger lanterns adorned the overhang, giving it an almost romantic feel. Great, like I needed a romantic setting while in his company. He already had some sort of magnetic affect on me, I didn't need scenery to encourage my strange attraction. He let go of my hand as we approached the door, and I instantly felt loss.
The heavy, wood doors opened and a small, Chinese girl welcomed us. She started leading us towards the middle of the room, which I noticed was full of large tables and groups of people. There were piles of rice, vegetables, and other exotic dishes set onto square glass plates on the middle of each table. She started to lead us to the communal table, but Edward stopped her with a light touch of his hand on her arm. "Could we have a private table?" he asked cajolingly.
"Okay," the girl answered in accented english. She looked a little breathless and I smiled in sympathy. He was dazzling her too, of course. She led us to a square table in a secluded corner. There was another lantern hanging directly over us, giving off the feel of candlelight. Edward, who I was beginning to suspect was more of a gentleman than I'd previously thought, held my chair out for me, then seated himself.
I picked up the menu and opened it, only to freeze in shock. The entire menu was written in Chinese characters, and I hadn't a prayer of deciphering it enough to order. I glanced up at Edward, who was looking at me amused. "How am I supposed to order from this?" I whispered to him, leaning over so he could hear me over the cacophony of background noises.
"I'll show you," he replied. "First, though, I want you to come sit closer to me. It's too hard to hear you over the noise, and I'd rather not shout while you conduct the interview." He grasped my chair and pulled it so I was sitting next to him. I let out a small squeak, startled at the abrupt and unexpected movement and how easily he'd hefted me plus the chair.
Just then, the waitress arrived--another tiny Chinese girl--and asked us what we'd like to eat. I glanced hesitantly at Edward, who smirked at me, correctly reading my hesitation. "We'll have one of each entree on the menu. Well anything that doesn't have shrimp in it. I don't like shrimp. Unless--Bella, do you like shrimp?" he questioned. I could only shake my head at him in shock. "No shrimp then," he said, nodding to the waitress. "And rice--lots of rice. Possibly some noodles too--whatever's the tastiest," he added after brief consideration. I could tell that the waitress could hardly believe what she was hearing. Really, neither could I.
"Oh wait," Edward called as she turned to walk away, "you forgot our drinks." She turned around and apologized quickly. "I'll just have water--bottled water," Edward answered than looked expectantly at me.
"Um, Coke?" It came out as more of a question then an answer, but I must have requested something that was on the menu because she nodded and walked away.
"So," Edward said, turning to me, "if I'm going to grant you this interview, I'd like one favor from you."
"What?" I asked curiously. What kind of favor would he need from a nosy journalist like me? Nevermind need. What could he possibly want with me?
"Well, I get tired of being the one to answer all the questions, all the time, so how about we switch off? I've always wondered what it would feel like to question a member of the press. Sort of turning the tables on them," he answered.
"Um, I guess?" Once again I answered with a question inflected in my tone.
Seeing the almost panicked look on my face, Edward reassured me quickly. "No, I don't mean it like that. I'll be nice, I promise! No crazy questions designed to trick you...that is if you promise to do the same."
I sighed in relief, then realized just what he'd suggested. So, we were getting to know one another in the guise of a professional interview. I didn't know whether to be exasperated and ask him straight out if this was a date, or just ignore it and go with the flow.
"So, since I'm paying, I feel like I get the obligatory first question," Edward coaxed, just as the waitress set our drinks on the table in front of us and hastily retreated.
"Okay, shoot," I replied, biting my lip nervously. I hated talking about myself, and I wasn't looking forward to the inquisition I was about to receive, judging from Edward's determined look.
"I'll start off easy. I know your name is Bella and that's it. So, how about a last name...and is Bella short for anything?"
"Isabella, actually. Isabella Marie Swan is my full name," I answered, grateful for the simple question.
"Hmm...very pretty. Now, its your turn," he prompted.
"Well, since I already know your full name, courtesy of every sports magazine and newscast in existence, how about you tell me a little bit of why you decided to get into swimming. Obviously, it's in your blood, but is there a reason you chose the same sport as your dad?" I was in my element, and the question came easily to mind, despite the other parts of my body that rebelled at the mere sight of him.
"You really get right to the point, don't you. Haven't you read my answer in all of these magazines in existence where the reporter asked me that same question?"
"That's another question for me, and you haven't answered mine yet. And to be honest, I've read your answer, but it didn't seem entirely truthful," I declared, determined to be honest.
"Hmmm...I'll give you that then, and yeah, you're right, the answer I give isn't entirely truthful. For some reason, though, I don't think I can lie to you, though. Besides, I know I can trust you," he said, his green eyes appraised me for a long, tense moment, then he began to speak. "You know I was was two when my dad competed spectacularly in the Games, right? I was watching, and at the moment that he won his last gold medal, I knew I was going to be just like him someday. I love my father, and he's the world's greatest dad. Besides every boy wants to be like his father some day."
I knew all this. It was the basic answer he'd given to all the reporters before, yet there was slightly more detail. I nodded for him to continue, sensing he had more to disclose. "Well, of course I decided that day I was going to be a swimmer like him, but the reality didn't hit home until much later on--probably when I was about ten. You see, my father is one of the greatest men I've ever known. Not only is he a great athlete, but he's a caring, gracious man. He loves my mother, and he loves me, of course, but what had I done to deserve it? What had I done to merit his pride in me. It was watching him coach a swim practice and work with such dedication to help everyone succeed that I hatched my own plan of Olympic greatness. If I can succeed--if I can possibly match his record, then I will deserve the Cullen name and my father's pride."
"Edward," I began, touched by his honesty, "I'm sure your father is every bit as proud of you as you deserve. Who wouldn't be?" I was tempted to reach out and touch his hand. My previous opinion of him was quickly changing and I was left with the great possibility that this man was quite possibly not just great in the pool, but in every aspect of his life. And this possibility scared me to death.
"So, it's my turn again," Edward asked, shaking off his serious look and grinning at me. My heart stuttered. "Let's see, after that question, I think I deserve a lot more information, so why don't you tell me about your life--your parents, where you grew up, friendships, whatever you think would interest me.
"That's a really long question," I argued, but in the end I capitulated. I told him about growing up in Phoenix after my mom left my dad, and her remarrying and my decision to relocate myself to live with my father in Forks, Washington. I told him about being befriended my first day of school there by none other than Alice Hale. I told him my passion for all books and my desire to become a serious author someday, and when he questioned how I'd managed to become a journalist, I explained that Alice was the culprit. She'd talked me into taking one class in college, and I'd discovered how much I liked it and changed my major that very day. Finally, I broke off, embarrassed for having monopolized the conversation for so long when I spotted our server coming out with a tray of food. Gulping, I stared in awe.
Following her were no less than 5 waiters, all with white aprons and carrying platters of entree upon entree. The waitress deftly lowered her tray and set three plates of steaming food on our table then pulled over another square table next to it. Plate upon plate was loaded on the two tables, until they were so laden I thought they might collapse under the weight. I glanced up at Edward, and he was looking at the food in satisfaction. I was really starting to wonder just how much he could possibly eat. We were going to be here a long time. Inwardly, my heart rejoiced.
He looked up at me and saw me staring. I looked down, and blushed. Why was he always catching me looking at him? His voice interrupted my tangled thoughts. "Aren't you going to eat anything?" I looked up, surprised to see that his plate was still empty.
"Um, sure," I answered. Knowing he was waiting for me to select some food, I picked a few items off some particularly appetizing plates and some rice, then watched Edward go at it. He piled mounds of food on his plate and then began to eat ferociously. Despite the speed of his ingestion, I was quite impressed with his meticulous table manners. Sensing that he wasn't going to come up for air anytime soon, I carefully began to eat my food. I wasn't taking any chances with my clumsiness, and was determined to get through this meal with him unscathed and unstained.
Finally, he pushed his plate away. Startled, I realized that half the food was gone. I'd finished my food long ago and had resorted to watching him. He didn't seem to mind, and I was quite enjoying the view, especially when he'd look up at me with those gorgeous green eyes and wink every so often.
"I'll finish the rest later," he stated, smiling at my wide eyed response. "I don't want you to get bored with me. Besides, I think it's your question."
"Oh, okay, on to the next question," I stammered. I thought for a moment, then asked, "So, how do you manage all the pressure? I mean, you're considered the best swimmer in the world--the one to beat, yet you seem to handle it so well. I'd be a nervous wreck all the time," I admitted. So much for my professionalism. I'd forgotten long ago that this was an interview. It had a strange ease to it. The interaction between Edward and I was so natural--so normal that it felt entirely like we were on a date trying to get to know one another.
He didn't seem to mind the question. "Well, of course you would. To be honest, you seem too sweet to compete in event after event, hearing the slurs and criticism against you every time. Of course, you are a journalist so you must have some backbone to you." He winked at me, then continued. "To be honest, I thrive on the attention, the negative comments directed towards me. It only makes me want to be better, to win by greater distances." I nodded, understanding the competitive drive that fueled him.
"My turn," he said cheerfully. "You never finished my question before. What about friends? Who are the people that are closest to you in your life?" For some reason I sensed he was alluding to a boyfriend, but I stopped those thoughts in their tracks. I didn't want to go there and get my hopes up.
"Friends? Well, you already know my best friend--Alice Hale. Obviously, we've been friends since college. She recently married Jasper Hale, who takes pictures for the same newspaper I work for. I take full credit for introducing them. His sister Rosalie Hale--I'm quite sure you've heard of her--is a beach volleyball player expected to take the gold here in Beijing. Emmett McCarty is her boyfriend. He's also an Olympian, a weightlifter who may look fearsome on the outside, but is really a giant teddy bear underneath. He's a teaser though, and has taken it upon himself to be my official tormentor. They're all really great."
Wanting to lighten the mood a little on my next question, I smiled deviously. "So Edward, I've heard about these tattoos you got after Athens? Where exactly are they at?" I teased, and to my surprise, he blushed. "Just kidding, really," I told him when he looked like he was trying to decide what to say. "I just wanted to see you flustered for once, and it worked!"
"Very funny," he grinned at me, and I could tell he wasn't upset. I was getting bolder than usual, encouraged by his relaxed body language. "It's my turn now. So, likes and dislikes? Any strange phobias?"
Great, a question that I didn't want to answer. What would he--a swimmer--say when he found out exactly what my greatest fear was? I avoided the last part of his question a bit longer, hoping he'd forget. "I really like books, as I told you before. Pride and Prejudice is possibly my favorite of all time. I like spending time with good friends and now that I'm a world traveler, add traveling to new places on that list. Dislikes--I really hate it when I manage to humiliate myself in front of a crowd due to my clumsiness, I hate hypocrites, oh, and I really, really hate brussel sprouts," I quipped, knowing that it would get another amazing smile out of him.
"You forgot one thing," he reminded me when I didn't continue.
Damn it! Fine, I'd answer then he'd laugh at me. Might as well get it over with. "Well, actually there is a strange fear I have. You see, when I was little, we went on a vacation to California to visit some of my mom's friends. They had a couple little girls, and we all went to the beach together one day. The adults were talking, enjoying each other's company, and not really paying attention to us. We decided to have a contest to see who could get the farthest out. I was only five at the time, and the other little girls were six and seven. None of us could swim very well, particularly against the rip currents so common on those beaches." I shuddered, remembering what was coming next.
"I got a little too brave, and ventured out in chest deep water. The tide was coming in, and the waves were getting stronger. Suddenly a huge swell knocked me off my feet, and I was immediately caught in a rip current. My mom didn't notice, and I couldn't surface, all the while being swept farther out to sea. I don't remember anything after that, but I do know that a very vigilant lifeguard pulled me out and fortunately was able to resuscitate me. I haven't been able to go in the water ever since. I don't even know how to swim anymore," I trailed off at the horrified look on Edward's face. Was it because I didn't know how to swim, or because I'd almost drowned? It woudln't be too shocking if it was the former. He did spend his entire life swimming.
"You mean to tell me that...that you almost drowned just because some adults were having too much of a good time to keep an eye on you?" His voice was livid, and I was somewhat surprised by his anger.
"Well, I think it can happen to anyone, really. I was an adventurous child, and Mom probably just lost sight of me for a moment." I'd long ago realized that my mom, though loving, was not the most responsible person, yet I didn't want to admit that to Edward.
"I'm very grateful for that lifeguard," he responded, still serious. Before I could decipher just what he meant by that, he continued. "Besides, I think it might be fate that we met. Who better to help you overcome your fear of water than someone who built his life on it? I could teach you how to swim, Bella," he said pleadingly, looking into my eyes.
"Um, I don't know about that. Really Edward, it's a nice offer and very kind of you, but you haven't seen how panicked I get. I really wouldn't want to subject you to that," I stammered.
"I promise you that I'll keep you safe," he responded, a very earnest note in his voice. "Don't you trust me?"
I considered for a moment, and decided that somehow I did trust him--despite the plethora of reasons that existed otherwise. Though still unsure about his request, I was finding it difficult to deny him anything. "Okay, you can give me a swim lesson. Just promise that you won't let go of me," I implored, already almost desperate at the thought of willingly entering a swimming pool.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll hold you very closely," Edward responded huskily. I looked up to see that his eyes had darkened minutely and I couldn't help leaning closer to him.
I tried to hold back the disappointment as he sat back in his chair and began dishing a little more food on his plate. The intimate moment between us had ended before it even started. "So, what else do you want to know?" he asked conversationally. The complete shift in mood threw me off a little, and I had trouble thinking of another question, so I copied one of his. "Likes, Dislikes, fears?" I prodded.
"Well, I obviously love to swim. I like to eat--though that much is probably pretty obvious to you at this point, huh?" He stroked his chin and I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands over his chiselled face. "I've recently discovered a great liking of dark brown eyes and hair," he answered, staring intensely at me, "and I also enjoy a good book once in awhile when I'm travelling and not in the water. Dislikes--well, I can't stand poor losers, men who treat women poorly, and . . .oh, I hate brussel sprouts too." He smiled at me.
"Imagine that. There's a food that Edward Cullen doesn't eat," I taunted. He grinned at my sarcasm. "Fears?" I prompted.
"I fear failure above all else. I'm afraid I'll let those closest to me down," he whispered, after a long pause.
"Edward, we all can't be perfect all the time, you know?" I responded after trying urgently to come up with a reassuring response. "People who truly love you will be proud of you no matter what! I know I'll be," I said vehemently, then realized that I'd just admitted that I truly cared about him. I shook off my horror, he was the one who really mattered at the moment. Did he really see himself as someone who was only worthwhile as long as he was winning? Someone needed to really talk some sense in him. I wondered if his father realized what Edward was afraid of.
Suddenly I realized something else as I caught sight of the watch on my wrist. "Edward! The opening ceremonies. Aren't you supposed to be there? I mean, I didn't make you miss anything did I?" I asked, horrified.
"No, Bella," Edward comforted me. "I wasn't planning on going. In fact, as of right now, I'm supposed to be in my room sleeping." His voice was bleak.
"But, why?" I asked. "Why would you miss one of the greatest opportunities of your life?"
"To be honest, I really wanted to go. My father told me no. He knows what it takes to achieve greatness, and of course I listened to him, like I always do," Edward said bitterly.
"Edward, I know that you look up to your father, but you're a grown man. You can make decisions for yourself," I whispered.
"Bella, you don't understand. Let me tell you what my life has been like. I never went to high school like a normal kid. I home schooled and swam . . .every single day for hours every day, I swam. Once I was done with my studies, that's all I had time for. So, I didn't go to a senior prom--or even a junior prom. Homecoming games and dances--they never happened. College was more of the same. Hours upon hours in the pool, the easiest classes I could find, and competition after competition. I had no time for a social life. My mom cleaned my apartment for me and cooked my meals. She still does, in fact. I've never had the opportunity to form friendships such as the one you share with Alice. I wasn't understood by most people around me, but I had my parents. They understood, and they stood by me and helped me. My father, also my coach, worked full time to make sure that I could achieve my dream. I went to Athens and I did well, all because of him. Of course, I'm going to listen to him when he tells me what's best. I've never done anything else." By this point, I couldn't prevent the tears from coming to my eyes at his impassioned pleas for understanding. And of course I understood him. Edward Cullen, possibly the most famous athlete in the world at the moment, was also the most alone.
I reached out and covered his hand with mine, wrapping my fingers around his and turning his hand over to cradle it within mine. He had closed his eyes, and I could see him fighting for control. "Edward," I said softly. "Look at me." He opened his eyes and looked defiantly into mine. I knew that sharing his pain was hard for him, and I was touched by his trust in me. "I want you to know that I'm here for you..whenver you need someone to talk to. I also think that while you may be one step away from reaching your life long dream, it will hold no meaning for you if you don't enjoy any of the steps along the way. I know it's too late to go to the Opening Ceremonies now, but I think that you need to do more of what you want to do. It is your life, and life is meant to be lived. I can promise you that a little enjoyment in your life won't rob you of victory as long as it's in moderation." I smiled when I realized he was considering my words.
Finally, he smiled back at me. "Thank you for that, Bella. You truly are more wonderful that I'd imagined. Besides, I'm already breaking the rules by being here with you. See, you have a good influence on me. For the first time I can remember, I'm breaking the rules and not feeling guilty for it."
I suddenly realized I was still holding tightly to his hand. Blushing, I let go. "Sorry, I didn't mean . .."
He cut me off with a shake of his head.
"Bella, please don't take your hand from mine. In fact, let me show you how you should have been holding on to me." He deliberately picked up my hand and fitted our palms together, rubbing his palm across mine a few times. Finally, he deliberately separated each of my fingers, and slid his in between, linking our hands together. He brushed a kiss to the top of one of my knuckes, before lowering our hands to the table once again.
I was speechless. No man had ever been so tender with me. All I could do was gape at him.
"So, Miss Swan. What's on your agenda for the Olympics next?" he asked after a long moment.
I waited for my heart to slow it's frantic pace, then managed to calmly answer him. "Actually, I'm going to be covering mostly events at the Water Cube. Alice managed to get me tickets to all the events, so I guess I'll get to see you swim live," I mentioned nonchalantly, but secretly wondering what he would think.
"That's great, Bella! I'm really glad that you will be there. I mean, at least I'll get to see you again soon, and who knows . . .maybe your presence will help me swim faster."
I was relieved at his enthusiasm. He wasn't going to think I was a stalker.
We finally realized how late it was getting and both stood at the same time. As we walked outside into the damp, Beijing air, Edward grabbed my hand once more, linking our fingers as he'd done before. He insisted on walking with me to my hotel "for safety reasons" and I was incredibly grateful for more time alone with him. We continued to find out more about each other as we walked. Edward seemed particularly interested in getting to know even the most nitpicky details about me--what color I liked, what car I drove--anything that he could think of.
When we reached the front of my hotel, we stopped in unison. I let go of his hand, and again felt that great loss, only this time more pronounced now that I knew him--the man behind the famous face. I smiled up at him, unsure how to act. "Thanks, Edward. Thanks for dinner, and well, thanks for trusting me."
"No, thanks for trusting me!" Edward replied, then pulled me into a brief intense hug. He released me and ran his finger down my cheek before stepping back. "I guess I'll see you later?" he questioned and I mentally did a tap dance at the fact that he wanted to see me again.
"Sure, I'll be at the meet tomorrow. I'll be cheering as loudly as I can," I promised.
As he turned to walk away, I went through the double doors of my hotel on shaky legs, praying that I'd manage to get a little bit of sleep, although I knew it was a very faint possibility.