AN: Thanks for all your support and reviews! This chapter is written by the FABULOUS Tamelaine, my co-author. Next one by me! Squeeeee!!

EPOV

Bella. Just thinking her name made my heart start beating rapidly and my palms clammy. I eyed the tiny cellphone sitting on the conference table in front of me with trepidation. It was time.

I picked up the phone, and searching through my contacts, settled on Bella's name. She'd programmed her number into my phone the night before and I'd been dying to use it despite my nerves. I glanced down at my shaking hands and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down. I'd called women on the phone before, just none that had really mattered to me. This was Bella, though. Somehow she was becoming more important to me than anyone. Ever.

Finally, I managed to get control over myself using the same breathing method I'd always used before competitions. I glanced down at the phone once again, and hit the send button, waiting anxiously for the call to connect. The phone clicked and I heard her voice on the other end.

"Hello?" she questioned, sounding a bit breathless. While she sounded slightly different on the phone, her voice still held that soft, soothing quality that I'd become so enamored of.

"Bella? This is Edward. Edward Cullen," I said, then paused, waiting for her to say something.

"Edward! How are you doing? That was an amazing race this morning," she exclaimed. She sounded just as happy to be talking to me as I was to be on the phone with her.

"I'm well. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure, whatever you need?" she ended her remark with a question.

"Can you meet up with me and my father for a meeting?" I heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Meeting? I knew it. I'm in trouble for distracting you, aren't I?" she asked frantically.

"Maybe. I guess you'll have to show up to find out, huh?" I teased her, but just a little. She was just too cute in her panic.

"Okay...when?" she questioned.

"Are you free later on this evening?" I was hoping she was. Somehow, I didn't think I could stand it if I had to wait any longer to see her again.

"Yes, I am." I could definitely tell from her voice that she was nervous.

"Can you meet us in Conference Room 12 in the water cube at 7?"

"Um, sure. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Nope, just your beautiful self," I answered, so glad she'd agreed so quickly that smile was probably rivaling a halogen lamp.

I drummed my fingers in anticipation for a moment, before getting up to go to the door. I opened it and gestured to my father and Rob to come inside. They were leaning against the opposite wall, and it looked like they'd been having a hushed conversation. They'd immediately stopped when I opened the door, but I could see the guilt in their faces.

My father was looking at me suspiciously as he walked past me into the room. I decided to let it go. I'd won. I could do a victory dance. We'd had enough acrimony between us for the day and I was going to see Bella any moment.

They sat at the long, wooden table against the far wall. I chose to remain standing. The room was completely silent as we all stared at one another, waiting. Me for the gorgeous reporter that was quickly becoming essential to my existence, Rob--a bit disappointed that I hadn't chosen to use his idea of a reporter was waiting to see the person who'd usurped her, and my father, who kept shooting curious glances in my direction, wondering, I was sure, about the reason I'd suddenly become defiant.

Finally, there was a soft knock at the door. I stood up quickly and walked to it, wanting to yank it open and haul her into my arms. I reigned in my instincts, and calmly opened the door, giving Bella my best smile to welcome her.

BPOV

I walked on shaky legs to the door of the conference room. You're just going to meet the amazing guy that you had dinner with last night, I told myself. No reason to be nervous. And his family, that little voice interjected . I shook it off. Edward hadn't seemed upset, so there was no reason I was going to be worried that Carlisle Cullen wanted to meet me right after I'd kept his son out late the night before his first race. No reason at all.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a moment, I went to open it, only to find the handle yanked out of my hand. Edward stood on the other side, beaming his glorious smile at me, and I could hardly look away. I answered with a grin of my own, and continued to look into his eyes for one long, breathless moment as he reached out to grasp my hand in a handshake that was far from professional due to the way he held on so tightly--like he never wanted to let me go. The loud sound of a throat clearing behind him broke our connection and I hastily withdrew my hand hoping that no one else in the room noticed what had passed between us.

It was not to be. Edward stepped aside and I could see two men sitting at the long conference table against the wall. Carlisle Cullen was looking at me with a mixture of annoyance and something else I couldn't identify--it was almost speculative in nature. The other man I recognized as his manager and it suddenly dawned on me that I was either really in trouble or here for a more professional purpose.

Walking forward, I felt Edward's hand settle at the small of my back, guiding me to a seat across the table from the men. He pulled my chair out for me once again, and waited for me to seat myself, then sat in the chair next to me. I was surprised that he would sit so close to me in the presence of his father. I almost jumped when I felt his large hand pat me reassuringly on the leg before setting both hands once again on the table.

"So, shall we start?" he asked, looking around the table at each of us. He sounded almost giddy, and I could feel him bouncing his legs up and down in excitement due to our close proximity. I looked at him curiously. Despite our short acquaintance, somehow I didn't think he was one to get excited too often.

"This is Isabella Swan. She's the reporter I told you about who works for The Oregonian and does incredible work." He gestured to the two men across the table.

"This is Carlisle--my dad, and my manager Rob Pattinson." We stood up and shook hands across the table before seating ourselves again.

"Bella," he said, turning back to me again, "the reason why we've asked you here, is we would like you to do an exclusive interview. You'd follow me around, spend quite a bit of time with me learning my habits, asking questions, anything you can think of really, for the rest of the Olympics here in Beijing." I'm sure my eyes had widened to epic proportions because he stopped talking and waited for my reaction, which was not long in coming.

"What?" I burst out. "Why? And why me?"

Carlisle answered this time. I wasn't surprised to find his voice just as entrancing as Edward's was to me. Was everything about the men in this family beautiful? "Well you see, Edward hasn't been very good at cooperating with reporters. He doesn't answer their questions fully, doesn't engage them in conversation, or do anything that they need to get a really good interview, so they've retaliated by writing unflattering articles about him. His reputation is going downhill fast as someone who is too good for everyone else, rude, and uncooperative." He looked at me steadily for a moment, and I flushed because, of course that is how I had thought of Edward until I'd gotten to know him. Carlisle continued after a moment. "Of course he's not like that, but he's been too cautious and divulged too little information. What we want from you is damage control. We want an article featuring his human side--not the super human swimmer side. Do you think you can do that?"

"Um, of course I can do that. But, I still don't understand." I turned to Edward to explain. "Why me? I mean, I would love to do this, really. It would be a dream come true in so many ways, but I'm concerned. If this is about your reputation, you really should go to someone who works for a magazine or newspaper with better circulation. The Oregonian is widely read--in Oregon and a small part of Washington, but not the whole country. I couldn't imagine that it would help redeem your reputation any." I mentally cringed at the career suicide I was committing. This was my big break, the one my boss was expecting from me when he agreed to let me come, and here I was throwing it away because I couldn't stand the thought of Edward being criticized unfairly. The whole world deserved to know just how amazing he was, and that was all that mattered in that moment.

"I chose you," Edward explained. "I chose you because I trust you, because you are the only reporter I could stand to be with day after day." His expression changed to one of intensity and he looked at me pleadingly. "Please, Bella? Will you do this for me? We'll have other papers pick up the story later on, so you don't have to worry about the exposure of the story."

I suddenly realized that doing this would mean I could see Edward every single day. How could I say no then? "Yes, Edward, of course I'll do this for you."

His jubilant grin was contagious and I found my smile widening involuntarily. "Okay, so I'll give you a copy of my schedule and we can work out when I have free time outside of the pool and other obligations. I want you to have some free time to go watch your friends' events too, so don't worry about me monopolizing all your time. I think this is going to work out perfectly," he looked from me to his father and manager, who were both looking at us suspiciously.

"Thank you Miss Swan, for doing this for us. I've never seen Edward so excited to do an interview before," Carlisle said dryly and he looked back and forth between us. "We'll get back to you with his exact schedule a bit later, if you don't mind?"

"That sounds fine. I promise you that I'll do my best to reclaim Edward's unblemished reputation with this article," I promised him.

He looked at me measuringly. "Somehow, I think I agree with Edward that you were right choice." I wasn't stupid--I knew exactly why he thought so.

Carlisle re-focused his attention on Edward. "I think its time we get you back to the village for some rest. You have a race tomorrow, and it's been a long day," he instructed.

Sensing my cue to leave, I stood. The men stood too, and after more handshakes and another thank you from Edward, I walked out the door.

I'd made it halfway down the hallway before a voice stopped me. "Hey! Bella, wait up," Edward called to me, walking rapidly to my side.

I looked up at him questioningly and he shuffled his feet, obviously trying to tell me something. "I just wanted to say thank you. It means a lot to me that you'd do this, more than you know," he burst out. Grabbing me around the waist, he pulled me into his large, muscled chest for a warm hug. I expected him to let go quickly, as he had the night before, but he held on to me, pulling me even closer to his body and wrapping his arms more fully around me. I snuggled in, content in a way I'd never felt before. Finally, he released me and I sighed in disappointment. If only I could have stayed in his arms forever.

Beaming his crooked grin, he once again swept his finger down my cheek, then stepped back. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." It wasn't a question, but a fact and I wanted to jump for joy.

"Yep. I'll be at your races, for sure. Maybe we can meet after you're cool down routine and medal ceremony and work out a good schedule," I winked at him. Of course it was a given to me that he would win the gold, but I wanted him to know of my confidence.

"Great," he said, starting to turn away. "Oh, and Bella, can I call you if I can't sleep tonight? I've been having trouble lately, and I think talking to you might help."

I nodded, gave him one last smile, and walked on still-shaky legs towards the exit of the Water Cube.

As I neared the door of my hotel room, I noticed a slight person sitting with her back against the door, knees curled into her chest. Alice. I couldn't decide whether to tell all and unleash her scheming matchmaker alter-ego, or keep my very new relationship with Edward a secret. Then again, I had a sneaky suspicion that Alice knew everything and somehow had planned this. There was that little meeting on the plane, and of course the interview the night before. I narrowed my eyes at her as she got to her feet with a knowing grin on her face.

"So, let's hear it," she began, trailing after me as I walked into my room.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, although I knew exactly what she meant. I just couldn't figure out how she knew. Alice always seemed to know everything about her friends and family. I'd once jokingly accused her of hiring a private investigator to track me when she was waiting at my door after a particularly bad date.

"I know you were out last night," she began, "after the time you should have been home from your interview with Edward Cullen. So, what I want to know, since you obviously wouldn't have time to actually meet someone while interviewing, is if you were somewhere with him? I'm assuming you have better taste than his creepy manager." Her chin jutted out stubbornly, and I knew that it was truth-telling time. There was no way Alice was going to accept excuses or let this go. I sighed.

"Fine, Alice. I admit it. I went to dinner with Edward Cullen. Are you happy? Because I certainly am," I broke off in a huff, realizing that I'd said too much, and this would surely cause the matchmaker to insert herself firmly into place in her head. She'd been trying to set me up and find me my own Jasper since they'd met, and unfortunately hadn't succeeded yet. Then again, I was beginning to suspect that I'd managed to find him all on my own, and the thought was enough to send me into panic mode.

Edward was amazing, quite possibly the greatest man I'd met in many aspects, yet his life was entirely different from mine. I had the life of a journalist writing for a small paper, away from fame and camera lights and everything that came with it. And I lived in Oregon. He lived in Southern California. That was usually enough to send me running in the opposite direction, yet I couldn't. I was compelled in ways I'd never been to stick around and learn more, to fall deeper and deeper under his spell.

Alice was beaming at my words, but was watching me with a concerned look on her face. "Bella, if he makes you happy, then all your worries just may be worth it. I get it. You're different from him. You're a reporter. He's quite possibly not too keen on that profession. You live a fairly quiet life. Most of the world probably recognizes him. He's a famous athlete. You can't walk across a flat surface without tripping. All these differences don't matter in the long run if you have finally found someone who's worthy of you. Come here," she said, dragging me by the sleeve of my shirt over to the vanity.

"Look at yourself. Look at the sparkle in your eyes. I've never seen that starry-eyed look on you before and if he's the one who put it there, then I'd say he's worth a shot."

I glanced in the mirror and was surprised at my own reflection. Who was this woman starting back at me? Alice was right. I did have a sparkle in my eyes. I looked...happy and in love. In love? I inwardly cringed, but couldn't deny it. I was falling in love with Edward Cullen, and I didn't think I could do anything to stop the free fall. I thought back to the few memories we had together. The first time he'd caught me ogling him on the plane, his intense stare as I'd retreated from the debacle in first class, the joking flirtation after I'd run over his toe. Then there was last night. The touch of his skin on mine as he'd intertwined our fingers together, that glimpse into his soul that he'd so unselfishly shared with me, and that brief but intense goodbye hug where I'd never wanted him to let me go.

Alice was right. He was worth it. I'd cast my doubts and fears aside for the moment and let it happen. I glanced at my flushed, glowing face once again in the mirror, and smiled.

Turning to Alice, I gave her a quick hug. "Thanks," I said, pulling back. "I needed that."

"That's what friends are for, and you know what this means?" Alice asked, then let out an ear splitting squeal. "I get to plan a way to get you another meeting with him!" She was bouncing up and down again, so I cut her off before the scheming could truly begin.

"Um, Alice hold on a minute," I pleaded, trying to get her to focus before she disappeared in dangerous, "planning mode."

"That's actually already taken care of." I explained about Edward and Carlisle asking me to do an exclusive. To my surprise, her face fell.

"You mean, I don't get to plan anything?"

"I'm afraid not. I think I can handle things on my own this time," I answered, giving her a look of sympathy. I knew it would be hard for her not to be involved.

"You'll at least tell me if he kisses you, right? Unless he already has," she said, glaring at me.

"No, he hasn't. And if Edward Cullen kissed me, I definitely wouldn't be able to keep it from my best friend," I assured her.

"Okay! Great! I'm going to go tell Jazzy about this. Call me later," she pulled me into another brief hug, then danced out of the room.

I collapsed onto my bed as soon as the door clicked shut. Wanting to put off the call to my boss a little longer, I indulged in some day dreaming. I remembered Edward as he'd looked today, almost giddy at the thought of spending time with me. The feel of his arms as he'd pulled me in for that intense hug had been intoxicating, and I lingered on that memory. Finally, I rolled over and reached for my phone. Taking a deep breath, I sat up and prepared to talk to my boss.

After dialing, I waited, listening to the harsh tones of the phone ringing in my ear. Finally, there was click on the other end and a scruffy male voice answered. "Laurent speaking."

"It's Bella," I answered.

"Bella," he crowed on the other end. "I hope you have good news for me."

"Actually, I do. I just wanted to let you know that I've been granted an exclusive with Edward Cullen. I'll be following him around, spending as much time with him as possible during the next week in order to write an article featuring not only the Olympic athlete, but also his humanity as well. I guess there's been some bad press, and they want to counteract the negativity."

"Hmmm...Bella, that's brilliant. You've succeeded, far above my expectations. I must say I'm impressed," he gushed. I'd never heard that tone from Laurent before. He sounded practically gleeful. I smiled, excited that I was finally proving myself in the world of journalism. I'd definitely get my own byline after this.

That brief moment of happiness was shattered at his next sentence. "So, how does a reporter from such a small paper get an exclusive with a famous athlete? Tell me, Bella. How did you meet him?"

"Well, actually my friend Alice works for Nike and designed his suits. She managed to get me an initial interview and he decided that he trusts me," I explained.

"You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure he noticed that. So, did he ask you to interview him after a romantic dinner perhaps? Maybe he's more interested in getting to know you than the possible publicity," he mused aloud.

I felt resentment build up immediately inside of me. Of course Laurent would think that the only reason I'd be getting such a huge interview was by using my body instead of wit and skill. He'd always been a chauvinist. I glared at the wall in front of me and tried to keep my temper under control.

"Actually, I think he chose me because he trusts me to get it right. I'll email you some notes and an outline as soon as I can. Oh, and any friendship Edward and I form will be strictly off limits to you." I took a deep breath as I finished my small tirade.

"Okay, I hear you Bella. No need to get snippy with me. I want you to check in often and give me progress reports. Once again, it's impressive what you've accomplished in so short a time there. Make sure it continues." He hung up without even a goodbye and I sighed in relief before clicking the end button.

The reality suddenly hit me. Again. I was going to see Edward the next day . . . and the day after that . . . and even the day after that. I mentally formulated a list of questions to ask him--not for professional reasons of course, but purely personal. I wanted to know everything about him, from the way he slept (back, stomach or side), to the way he ate his eggs. I laughed aloud at my curiosity and decided he probably ate them every way possible, possibly a dozen at a time. I smiled at the mental picture of him sitting at a table surrounded by plates of eggs in every form with a big grin on his face.

My mental picture changed to one of him gazing at me, green eyes smoldering. I imagined what it would feel like to have him lean closer to me, his breath mingling with mine as he brushed our lips together. I, of course, would reach up and run my fingers through that glorious bronze hair like I'd been dreaming of doing since I'd watched on my tiny television with bated breath as he took his first gold medal at the Athens Games. I broke off my fantasy before it could become more detailed. I would need some wits about me if I was going to be in his presence the next day. I was determined not to have anymore clumsy episodes, and that meant I needed all the rest I could get.