As promised, I've got an early update for you guys!

We've got all sorts of theories on why Aro gave Edward the job of bookkeeping. Some of those questions will be answered in the next few chapters. I love hearing your guesses!

I think Edward has reached the point of no return with Bella, whether he's admitting it to himself or not.

Things are about to get a little citrusy, you ready? ;)

BPOV

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Who's there?"

"Morty?"

"Hello?"

"Oh, dear God, this is never going to stop!" Angela drops her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Hello?"

"Can we move them into actual rooms?" I ask. It's Halloween, so we're using our backup beds separated by curtains, but I'm ready to kick a couple of patients out of their rooms to get these two to shut up.

"Morty?" The ninety-six-year-old in bay two hollers… again.

"You want to write them an order for Ambien?"

"Can't. He's high as a kite on God knows what, and Doctor Greene is about to put her on a morphine pump. Drug interactions," I shrug.

"Freaking Halloween."

I nod and lean back in my chair. Despite the ER being packed, I don't have much to do. We're full of teenagers that made awful decisions and younger kids who overate. I'm waiting on bloodwork before discharging two of my patients, and I'm letting one ride out his high while his parents bicker over who dropped the ball with their delinquent son.

"Hello?"

"Morty?"

"And here we go again," Angela groans.

"Where are your tiger ears, Bella?" Jessica scolds as she plops down next to us.

"They were giving me a headache."

"Party pooper."

I stick my tongue out because, yeah, I'm a grown-up doctor, not a five-year-old.

"Alright, you've got to catch me up on your hot date from yesterday morning," Jessica prods.

"I wouldn't call going to a diner for breakfast a hot date."

"No, but the guy you went with is a hottie."

"It was good."

"Oh, come on, that's all I get? It was good?"

"I don't know, Jess. I mean, we talked. It was fun."

"You like him." Angela grins. "Look at your face. You're blushing!"

"I am not!" Both girls laugh at me. "Fine. I like this guy, okay."

"Awe, Bella's got a boyfriend!" Jessica croons.

"He's not my boyfriend… yet."

"When do you see him again?"

"Friday, at my place."

"Ooo, you going to Netflix and chill?"

"Oh my God, stop it! I don't know. I'm going to make dinner- and we'll see where it goes from there."

"You better ask me to be a bridesmaid at your wedding. I basically introduced you."

"Jesus, Jessica, she's gone out on two dates with him!" Angela laughs.

"I've got a sixth sense about this stuff. They're meant to be." Jessica taps her temples.

"Alright, enough of this. I'm checking my patients before you two make a five-year plan for my life."

"We worry because we care!" Jessica quips.

"Uh hu," I laugh and escape to make my rounds.

Our patient flow dies down after one am, so I spend a couple of hours trying to avoid Jessica and further predictions from her "sixth sense." I volunteer to sit with Mrs. Cope for a while and try to explain to her that her son, Morty, isn't here.

I'm quick to give a shift change report before I clock out and beeline to the parking garage. It's not until I press the button to unlock my car that I notice the figure leaning against the hood.

"No. Absolutely not," I growl, incredulous that he'd accost me at work.

"Bels, I know I have no right to be here, but-"

"This is my place of work, Jacob! What are you thinking?"

"Look, I don't need you to write me a prescription. I just need your advice."

"No."

"See, I banged up my arm pretty good," he explains, ignoring me. "It's cut."

"There's an emergency room right there!" I yell, pointing at the doors to the hospital.

"Bella! I can't have doctors snooping around asking questions!"

"What the hell are you involved in? How did you get hurt?" I step back as it hits me that Jake's erratic behavior may indicate something more sinister than I initially assumed.

"Nothing. I swear. Just an accident. Can you please tell me what to do?"

"Buy some Tylenol and butterfly bandages. There's a CVS on the corner. Goodnight, Jake." I push past him and jump into my car, locking the doors. I avoid looking at him as I back up and peel out of the parking lot.

My skin crawls, and I decide the next time Jacob Black shows up, I'm calling the police.

oOo

Lasagna in the oven, check.

Settings on the table, check.

Wine in the decanter, check.

"Alright. Almost showtime," I mutter as I finish lighting the votives on the dining room table.

I adjust the top of my wrap dress to ensure the girls are displayed appropriately. Enough cleavage to interest a man but not enough to give him a show. Jessica's advice, of course.

I'm scrolling my phone, debating on a playlist, when the doorbell rings. I select the first thing my finger lands on and run over to let Tony in.

"Jason Derulo?" He asks, wrapping his arms around me.

"Oh my God!" I mumble, hiding my face in his shoulder as I realize "Talk Dirty" is blasting from the speakers in my living room. "I didn't mean to put that on!"

"I don't mind. I'm into a little dirty talking now and then," he teases.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, champ."

"Hey, I'm not the one setting the tone here."

I shake my head as I break out of his embrace, running to my phone and selecting a new playlist- one not labeled Chi Omega house party twenty-fourteen. I need to clean up my music apps.

"Hi," I say, starting over.

"You look gorgeous."

"Don't flatter me. It'll get you everywhere."

"I'm counting on it. I brought some wine," he says, holding up a bottle.

"You can put it on the counter. I've got some open already. Yours can be our backup. We're having lasagna. I hope that's okay."

"Sounds wonderful. And it smells amazing. How much longer until it's ready?" He's staring at the oven in longing like a puppy hoping for table scraps.

"Hungry?"

"I worked through lunch."

"Well, lucky for you, I made a charcuterie board," I say, taking the foil off the hors d'oeuvres and placing the meat and cheese platter in front of him. "Wine?"

"Yes, please."

I pour a couple of glasses of the cabernet I have decanting and hand one over.

"Thanks for hosting tonight. It's been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal," he says, selecting a piece of salami.

"You mean you don't cook a three-course dinner every night?"

"Surprisingly, no."

"Bachelors." I sip my wine as he chuckles. "When was the last time someone cooked for you?"

"Every once in a while, I go to a- uh, co-worker's house, and his wife makes dinner. But the last time I was there was probably six months ago."

"Well, I don't cook that often anymore if you want the truth. I usually make one large dish on one of my days off and live on it for the rest of the week."

"You used to cook often?"

"When I lived at home. My dad isn't domestically inclined, and when I stayed with my mom, I did everything possible to avoid eating the experiments she tried to pass off as food."

"They're divorced?"

"Yeah. What about your folks?"

"Married thirty-six years."

"Wow, that's amazing!"

"My dad once told me the key to a lasting relationship was good sex and communication. His unsolicited advice can be disturbing."

"He sounds awesome," I laugh.

"Yeah. I really miss him."

"You don't see them often?"

"It's been a while."

The oven dings, so I leave Tony to do more damage on the charcuterie board while I take the casserole pan out of the oven. The cheese is golden and bubbly, exactly how I want it.

"Do you need any help?" He asks.

"Would you mind taking the salad and garlic bread to the table?" I ask, pointing them out on the counter. "We can start on those while we let this cool."

"Can I take the meat plate thing too?"

"Sure. Take 'the meat plate thing,'" I laugh.

We settle at the table, and I serve the caesar salad while Tony places a slice of garlic bread on both our bread plates.

"My God, this is delicious," he says after a few bites. "The salad and bread would have been enough on their own."

I'm properly flattered as he goes back for seconds while I fetch the lasagna.

"It's hot, so be careful," I say, placing a dish in front of him. His helping is twice the size of mine.

"Fucking incredible," he says between enormous bites.

"Slow down. There's plenty more. I promise I won't let it escape."

"Any chance you'll let me take some home?"

"There's not a chance I won't."

"Awesome."

I'm proud of myself as I watch him scrape his plate clean. Taking care of Tony feels natural. I like the domestic role more than I realized.

"So," he finally says, slowing down. "I, uh, sent you a friend request on Facebook the other day."

"I'll check it. I haven't been on lately. I don't have a lot of time for social media."

"Yeah, not a problem." He sweeps a bite of garlic bread through the leftover sauce on his plate. "Funny thing- I noticed we've got a mutual friend."

"Really? Who?"

"You know a guy named Jacob Black?"

I wipe the corners of my mouth and take a drink of wine, weighing how much detail to go into. "He's an acquaintance of mine. We went out several times but weren't a good match."

"You went out with him?" Tony's face scrunches in disgust before he schools his features.

"Not a fan of his, are you?"

"I don't think he's a good fit for you."

"You're right. He's… unpredictable." Tony motions for me to go on. "I don't know- he doesn't have his act together. I think he gets into trouble a lot. Used to get into fights." I decide not to mention that he's still showing up bloody and bruised.

"Did he ever say who else was in the fights?" Tony's stopped eating, and his shoulders are tense. I need to get the night back on track.

"Honestly, I didn't care to know. I don't have much contact with him anymore. I should probably unfriend him on Facebook, but I haven't thought much about it." I smile and try to dismiss the subject.

Tony nods, but he's pensive. I'm grateful when he lets the topic drop.

"Just so you know. I did make dessert," I say as he finishes his wine.

"You should have warned me!" he groans, looking at the empty plates in front of him.

"We can wait a bit," I laugh. "Do you want to hang out in the living room? It's more comfortable."

"Sure." He grabs his plates and follows me to the sink. I rinse off the dishes and shoo him away when he tries to help. I can clean later.

We take our refilled wine glasses with us as we settle on the couch. I sit within arms reach of Tony, hopeful that if I play my cards right, we'll close the distance between us.

"Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" He asks, leaning in.

"You might have, but I won't complain if you want to tell me again."

"Absolutely gorgeous." He lets his hand stroke gently across my knee, and the sensation lights a fire inside me, begging for more. "Is this okay?"

"Beyond okay," I say, scooting closer.

His lip quirks up as he slips his fingers under the hem of my dress and hums. "So soft." Our lips are inches apart, and his warm breath washes over my sensitive skin.

I can't take the teasing, so I make the leap, crashing my mouth against his. He responds with a grunt, and his hand reaches further under my dress to cup my ass.

"Fuck, Bella! A thong?" He groans before his tongue begs for entrance, sliding against my bottom lip. I'm happy to oblige, opening and giving him what he wants.

He moves, positioning himself over me so that I'm sprawled across the cushions of my couch. One elbow props him up while his other hand continues to explore my body, running from my bottom to my breasts and back again.

"God, you have no idea how bad I want you," he says, nibbling against my jaw in just the right spot.

"I want you too!" I admit, grinding myself against the hard bulge pushing against my hip. He growls and repositions himself, so he's lined up with my center, just where I need him. "Do you have a condom?" I ask, my words coming out in a breathy pant.

"Jesus, yes!" He fumbles with his pocket, producing his wallet and pulling out the aforementioned contraceptive. "Are you sure?" His eyes bore into mine, and I hope he sees the fire of arousal that consumes me.

We're moving too fast, but not a single inch of me cares. He's warm and heavy on top of me, pinning me down. I'm drowning in every sensation, my body begging for more. It's been months- longer- since a man has touched me, and even then, nothing has ever compared to this. My attraction to Tony is all-consuming, and I need him inside me now.

"Yes!" he hisses, reaching down and tugging on the hem of my dress. I sit up so he can slide it over my head. Once my dress hits the floor, I'm quick to get to work on the buttons of his shirt. I pop them open in record time, not caring if they rip off. I'm desperate to feel his skin against mine.

"So perfect," he murmurs, pausing while he drinks me in. I'm covered by only a bit of sheer lace masquerading as a bra and panty set. My fingernails trail down his chest, causing his stomach to clench. I lick my lips at the defined muscles of his abdomen and the sharp V that leads to an erection, begging for my attention.

"Your pants need to come off," I say, grasping his belt and unfastening the buckle. My fingers are working the button on his slacks when I feel a buzzing in his pocket.

Tony freezes and groans, dropping his head to my shoulder.

"Ignore it." I nip at his neck and go to pull down his zipper, but he grabs my hands, stopping me.

"I'm so sorry," he chokes out, standing. He buttons his pants and pulls his phone from his pocket. "Masen."

He paces as he listens to the voice on the other side of the line. I can't hear what's said, even when I sit up and inch closer.

"Alright. Give me thirty minutes." He hangs up and drags a hand through his disheveled hair. "Bella-"

"Who was that?" I ask with a pit in my stomach. I imagine the worst. A wife at home, with a baby on her hip and a toddler nearby. Is she calling to find out where he is, telling him what she needs from the store on his way home? Why else would a man answer a phone call seconds before getting laid?

"My boss."

"You answered your phone for your boss?" I ask in disbelief.

"I'm so fucking sorry. I'm up for this promotion- it's huge, and I've been working toward it for years. If I don't jump through hoops, I won't get it, and my life will never be my own. I don't know how to explain this, but you've got to believe me. I don't want to leave you right now. Fuck!" His eyes roam over my half-naked form, and he looks like he might cry.

"Are you married?" I ask, crossing my arms to cover my exposed body.

"What?" He's wide-eyed and shaking his head. "Of course not! You think I'd- no!"

"You swear there's not another woman?"

"Bella. No. I'm not that guy." His phone buzzes with a text as he snatches his shirt off the floor. "At some point, I'll explain all of this, but I have to go right now."

"Sure. Do what you have to do." I throw my dress over my head, utterly humiliated by his rejection.

"Bella, please," he begs, coming toward me. "I like you- a lot, and I want to see where this thing between us will go. You understand what it's like to have a demanding job."

I sigh because he's right. If the hospital called and they were desperate, I would probably do the same thing he is.

"I guess I don't understand the world of construction that well."

"Construction," he snorts. "Someday, I'll explain it better, I promise." He checks his phone as it buzzes again. "Shit. Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Okay," I mumble. I just want to be alone, so I can lick my wounds.

"I swear to God. First thing in the morning, I'll call you so we can reschedule."

I search his eyes for any hint of a lie, but all I find is a man begging for forgiveness.

"Go. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He nods once, then rushes out the door, buttoning his shirt as he goes.

I run my hands through the tangled mess of my hair and blow out a deep breath. I want to believe what he's saying. The man has never given me a reason to think he's lying to me, but he left me half naked and wanting. In my, albeit limited, experience, men don't do that.

I reach for my wine because God knows I'll need it tonight. As I sit back against the couch, something solid pushes against my hip. I shift to the side and dig between the cushions until my finger comes into contact with leather. I gasp when I realize what I've found- Tony's wallet.

I bite my lip, considering my options. I know I should chase after him and give it back, but what if there's some clue inside as to who Tony Masen is? What if I find pictures of his kids or a frequent flyer card to a strip club? Okay, maybe I'm stretching a bit. I run my thumb along the corner, tempted. Just a quick peek won't hurt, will it?

"God, Bella. No," I scold myself and jump up to chase after him.

A/N: Well, damn, cockblocked by Aro! Any guesses as to what Bella might find in the wallet if she opens it up? We'll find out what "Tony" is hiding in there in chapter 8!

Favs, follows, and reviews are the best holiday gift a girl can ask for!

Thank you for reading! :)