A/N: Sigh. I brought my laptop with me to my mother's house and didn't even look at it. Lol. Sorry about that. I was trying so hard to have this all done and uploaded BEFORE Christmas.

In any event. I hope your holiday was enjoyable or passed peacefully as possible. If not, it's over! You survived another year.

Now, let's see if Bella can bring herself to cash in on that rebound.

Edward hummed to himself—a Christmas carol again, but his brother wasn't there to bitch at him today—as he sorted through the slew of online orders. He picked up his glasses, putting them on as he pulled a stack of cards toward him.

Sure, he could have used the printer specifically designed to print messages in a curly type of font on flower-shop cards, but where was the fun in that? He had time, and he happened to think a personal touch gave the flower arrangements just that much more class. That, and he knew he had beautiful penmanship—crisp, clear, and with a bit of a flourish when the occasion called for it.

He liked things gussied up and fanciful. That was one of the reasons he loved the holiday season. And, sure, probably the reason he preferred to celebrate the holiday season from November first to January second with a four-day break for Thanksgiving.

Edward heard the jingle of the bell that signaled the door opening, but he didn't look up immediately. He was concentrating hard on his block lettering, humming "Deck the Halls."

"Season to be jolly, my ass," a voice muttered.

Surprised, Edward lifted his head. He blinked several times. Just like the first time he'd seen this woman—the one wanting the fuck you flowers from two weeks ago—his thoughts scrambled. The pen in his hand skittered off the page, leaving a lopsided line through the unused portion of cardstock.

He stared for a moment, words fleeing out the slight gape in his mouth without sound.

The woman's cheeks flushed scarlet. She crossed her arms over her chest, ducking her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud. You were busy, and I shouldn't have rushed in here in the first place. I was just shocked to see you because you haven't been here all week. I thought you were fired for thinking it was December already or something."

Edward blinked, sure he'd processed that torrent of words wrong. "You've been looking for me?"

"Oh. Oh, hell." She put her hands to her face, shaking her head. "That came out wrong. You're wearing glasses, and that's so unfair. It's distracting. I got all…" She waved a hand helplessly in the air.

"I was writing. They're reading glasses," he said, taking them off.

"Fuck," she hissed under her breath, raking one hand through her hair. "This is… the worst." She blew a breath out, closed her eyes, visibly counted to five, and then tried again. "Sorry. I know all of that sounds so stalkery. And it's not that. I swear I'm not normally this flippin' insane."

"Hey." He reached out, but stopped just short of touching the stranger-customer's shoulder. "Breakups suck. I get it."

She gave a weak smile. "So you do remember me."

"You're hard to forget."

She sighed. "Yeah, hard to forget the lunatic who sends her now-very-ex fiancé flowers for cheating and propositions you in the same breath, eh?"

Edward tilted his head, taking the time to consider his words. "Well…" He kept his tone light. "You're not going to get any judgment from me. If breakups are inevitable, it brings a whole new meaning to the term 'say it with flowers'." He let a beat go by, looking her in the eyes so she could read his sincerity. "To answer your unasked question, I don't actually work here."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and he tried hard not to dwell on how cute her perplexed expression was.

"My parents own the place," he said, gesturing around the shop. "Typically, when I come to town for an extended stay, it's because I need to escape my life for a minute. The flowers—the method of it, the design, and the message—soothe me, so they put me to work."

"What are you escaping from?"

He ducked his head. "A breakup."

"Are you serious?"

Edward scoffed. "Well, that was one of her complaints. I'm not serious…about my career."

"Oh." The woman looked around. "Listen, I'm not one to take sides, but you are currently working in a flower shop where you're not employed."

He grinned and nodded. "She did have a point. I just can't find it in me to take Hollywood seriously."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Hollywood?" Her eyes raked his body, as though trying to place him.

"I'm not an actor. I'm a film editor."

"Oh." She didn't sound disappointed. "Anything I'd know?"

"Probably," he admitted. "Drove Kate crazy that I didn't take any of the nonsense seriously." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Hollywood is a strange place. The big names, the actors and directors, have this double persona. The person they are on camera, even in interviews, isn't their real selves. And even when they're not in front of someone's camera, there's always the chance they will be. It gets ridiculous even for people like me on the sidelines. You get to know someone in the industry, step out for coffee with someone you think might be a friend and end up as a blind item on celebrity gossip."

"That's a… unique problem to have."

"It's all unique. And between the paparazzi jumping out trying to catch the big names living their real lives and people treating them like royalty…" He shrugged. "It kind of creates a surreality, and even grunts like me can get caught up in the little alternate universe they have going on out there. I got a little bit of success. An Oscar nod—"

"You won an Oscar?" she squeaked.

"I was nominated. Along with other people." He waved his hand, not wanting to talk about that. "It's great to get recognition for your work, but Kate wanted me to throw what little weight it gave me around. Make something of myself in that weird world."

He shook his head, his mouth set in a thin line as he stared off into space. "The thing with Kate is…" He huffed, looking for words. "It's like she had lightning bolts in her hands. When she was angry, it was like zap." He clapped his hands together. "She could make you question everything about yourself." He blew out a breath before continuing.

"Christ, I always knew she was the wrong sister. If it had been Tanya… But, Katrina saw me first. That's just the way it was."

"Whoa. Okay, Alexander Hamilton."

Edward blinked, remembering where he was and that he was babbling to a pretty stranger in his parents' flower shop. He blushed.

She quirked an eyebrow. "You were lusting after your girlfriend's sister?"

"No!" He rubbed the back of his neck. "No. Sorry. I was talking out loud. I noticed her sister first, but Kate was the one who approached me. It's just an errant thought—what might have happened. Tanya is just not as big of a dick as Kate. I'm sure it wouldn't have worked out anyway, but I wouldn't be so…" He made a vague motion around his head.

"Breakups make everyone a little crazy," Bella said, matter of fact.

He sighed but smiled at her. "Exactly."

Their gaze lingered.

Something in the air shifted.

She licked her lips, her eyes darting away a moment, then back to his. "I really did come here to apologize for my lunacy..."

The way the last word trailed off made Edward think there was more to what she was trying to say. "But?"

"But…" She bit her lower lip and ducked her head, shy and cute as hell. "But maybe we both could use a rebound date."

His smile spread wide, and he leaned an elbow on the counter. "I believe I already said yes."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They stared for a moment more, and she stuck out her hand. "I'm Bella, by the way. Bella Swan."

He took her hand, brushing his fingers at her wrist. "Edward Cullen. Nice to officially meet you."

A/N: Heh.

So. That happened. And yes, anon, I have every intention of getting back to my WIP. It's just taking me a moment to restart my mojo after a horrible October.