A/N
First, oh my gosh! Your theories about Rose and what Edward's secret might be are so incredibly awesome! I wish I had thought of some of them. You will find out more in this chapter.
Unbeta'd.
S. Meyer owns all things, Twilight.
As always, thanks for coming back.
Chapter 6
BPOV
Running my fingers through Oscar's silky fur, I stretch beside him on the couch. He's snoring softly, and his paws twitch as he chases something in his dreams. An elusive squirrel, perhaps. When I walked through the door earlier this morning, I assaulted him with hugs, kisses, and numerous who's-a-good-boys, before completing the second part of my mea culpa—taking him for a long run. Now, he's burrowed into my side, and all is right in his world again—Mom's home.
My hand skims over his body absently as I stare at the ceiling and replay the events of last night.
Edward looking at me from across the dinner table.
Edward taking charge and not letting me drive in the snow.
Edward leading me to his bedroom, adorably flustered as he offered me a shirt to sleep in.
The way he lingered before saying a quiet "good night" and closing the door.
Edward, standing with me by the car this morning, blindingly handsome with flushed cheeks and a devastating smile.
The hot chocolate.
He made two stops.
Two.
My phone rings and I look at the flashing screen. Alice. I know I need to pick up, or she'll keep calling. When she'd texted last night, and I told her I was staying at Edward's, her reply was swift— a GIF of David from Schitt's Creek —his, Oh, my God expression on an endless loop.
Leaning over, I grab the phone.
"Hey," I say.
"Details," she says, getting right to the point.
"Good morning to you too."
"Good morning," she says. "Where'd you sleep? Couch?"
I smile, remembering how comfortable Edward's bed was.
"His room."
She's quiet.
"What'd it look like?"
When Edward led me up the stairs and opened the door to his room, my first thought was that it was plain. It had no personality, nothing that said Edward. Not a photo or even a piece of art on the wall. There were a few duffel bags of clothes on the floor. It looked like a guest room — temporary.
I give Alice the rundown, filling her in on everything, including the enigma that is Rose Cullen. It wouldn't be accurate to say Rose ran hot and cold yesterday because that would intimate there were signs of warmth in her attitude toward me. Polite and aloof are the closest descriptors I can come up with.
Alice was never one to mince words, and today is no exception.
"She sounds like a total bitch. Think they're sleeping together?"
I don't respond, not wanting to go there.
"I mean, from the way you described how she was acting, she sounds more like a jealous girlfriend than a sister-in-law. They're both grieving. They get closer … the kids bring them together … yada yada. It happens all the time."
I frown and reposition the pillow behind my head.
"I don't think that's it. I don't know how to explain it, but I didn't get that vibe."
"Maybe she wants him as a replacement for her dead husband and sees you as some kind of threat."
I don't like this suggestion either, but it seems more plausible.
"Maybe."
"Or maybe," she says, "they were having an affair behind the brother's back. Maybe one of those kids is Edwards or something."
My heart falls into my stomach.
"Jesus, Alice."
"What? There's always more to these situations than meets the eye. This whole perfect persona thing he's got going on might just be a cover."
As much as I like to think Edward is perfect, I know he's not. No one is. But I know he's a good person. And while Rose is off-putting, I refuse to believe it's due to anything as sordid as Alice is insinuating.
"Did you give the T-shirt back or shove it into your laptop bag?"
I snort.
"Left it."
"You like him."
"Well, duh."
"No. I mean, you like him, like him."
Before I can confirm or deny her statement, I hear my goddaughter in the background.
"Mom, come on!"
"Grab daddy's keys," Alice says. "Bella, I gotta go. Lis has to get to a birthday party. I'll call you later, okay?"
There's a muffled sound, and then Melissa's voice comes through.
"Hey, Aunt B!"
"Hi, Lis," I say. "Have fun at the party. Alice, I'll talk to you later."
"Sounds good," she says. "Bye, girl."
Ending the call, I roll over. Alice is right. I do, like him, like him, and the thought of that makes me giddy. There's a wet warmth on my hand, and I look down to see Oscar's pink tongue lapping against it. His paws are crossed over my arm, and he looks at me with soulful brown eyes. I smile and cup his face.
"Two stops, Os," I whisper. "Two fucking stops."
~!~
Hitching my bag over my shoulder, I lean around Newton and push the button for my floor. He looks down at me.
"Mondays. Am I right?"
I swear, there's something about his voice that sounds like a used car salesman. Giving him an awkward smile, I quickly shift my focus to the lighted numbers above our heads. Why do I always get stuck in here with him?
"Come on," I mutter as I tap my toe impatiently. I'm early today. I woke up this morning in a fantastic mood, ready to come in and start working on the last remaining items before we present to Mr. Volturi on Friday. I'm also anxious to see Edward. The last time we communicated was through text message on Saturday morning.
Get home, all right? Any problems?
I couldn't hold back my smile.
All good. Thanks for letting me stay last night, Edward. And please, thank Rose again for me too.
I didn't hear from him after that. It wasn't unusual. We'd never texted on the weekends before, but I still felt a sense of disappointment. This is what makes my feelings for Edward so complicated. It's gone beyond having a silly crush on the hot guy at the office. The more we've gotten to know each other, combined with watching him interact with his nephews in his home environment, makes it harder to consider him just a co-worker. We've discussed everything from my overbearing mother to the fraternity Edward belonged to in college during our numerous lunches and occasional happy hours with the team. I know him as a person now, and you can't go back from that.
And yet, there's one subject neither of us has brought up — our romantic history. I can't be sure of his reasons for avoiding it, but I wonder if I'm subconsciously staying away from the subject because I don't want to know. But I felt something from him on Saturday morning as we stood in that driveway. Standing by my car, I wanted to kiss him as the sun glinted off the beautiful white wonderland around us. And I think Edward wanted to kiss me too.
Stepping off the elevator, I walk down the hall and murmur a good morning to everyone I pass. Stopping by Bree's office, we catch up for a few minutes, and I lean over her shoulder as she shows me the website for her wedding venue. It's a beautiful vineyard in Napa Valley. When her phone rings, I slip out quietly, promising we'll have lunch soon so she can tell me all about it. Arriving at my office, I drop my bag, roll up my sleeves, and pile my hair on top of my head. Opening my laptop, I position my other two monitors and pull up all the charts for our internal presentation on Friday. Putting my phone on silent, I review every detail to ensure it's perfect.
When there's a knock on my open office door two hours later, I look up with a pen between my teeth and my reading glasses perched on the end of my nose. Smiling at my visitor, I lean back in my chair and welcome Mr. Volturi into the room.
"Hi," I say as I close the laptop. "What's up?"
He sits in the chair in front of my desk.
"How was the weekend?"
A sudden image of a smiling Edward wiping snow from my car flashes in front of my eyes.
"Um, good," I say. "It was good. How about yours?"
"Heidi and I went sledding."
"Stop it. You did not."
"We did." His smile is infectious. "One of those old flexible flyer sleds. You know, the wooden ones people put on their porches as decorations during the Holidays? Well, I'm old. Those were the actual sleds I used as a kid."
I laugh and cross my arms over my chest as I lean back further and consider him. He always lives his best life. No fear.
"I just thought I'd check in," he says. "Need to go over anything before we meet on Friday?"
I shake my head. He really is the best boss. He's involved but doesn't micromanage. He trusts Edward and me to do things on our own but always makes sure we know he's available if we need him.
"No. I think we're set. Carmen green-lit the graphics late last week, and the team has the entire storyboard almost ready. I think you're going to be impressed."
"I'm sure I will be," he says before standing.
As he heads to the door, he gives me a backward wave without turning around, along with his famous departing words – the ones he's left me with ever since I started working for him.
"Don't take any shit, Miss Swan."
"I won't," I whisper before pushing up my glasses and diving back in.
A loud grumbling from my stomach startles me a little while later, and looking up at the clock, I'm surprised to see it's almost one-thirty. Edward usually shows up at my door by now or at least texts about lunch. Checking my phone, my brow furrows when I don't see any messages. Maybe he got tied up with something. I type a quick message to him.
Where are we going?
While I wait for a response, I open up my emails and reply to the most urgent ones. A few minutes later, my phone chimes.
Can't today.
That's it. No segway for witty banter, no cute emoji. Nothing.
Come on. I'll even let you pay.
Leaning back, I stare at the screen. Five minutes go by before he answers.
I can't today, Bella.
Carmen pops her head in.
"Any chance you haven't eaten yet? Wanna go to lunch?"
I look up quickly and then glance down at the phone again. Three little bubbles are ghosting across the screen as Edward types, but then they stop. No additional message appears. I look up at Carmen.
"Um, sure. Yeah."
Grabbing my purse, I follow her out of my office, telling myself that Edward's text isn't a big deal. He just can't make lunch today. But deep down, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to it than that.
~!~
I don't see Edward for the next three days. By Wednesday, I stop asking about lunch. He's not ignoring me, but his texts and emails are only related to the project. I have no idea what happened or why he's acting so differently. But I'm confused and angry. He can't avoid me forever, though. Today is our presentation to Volturi, so he has no choice but to see me. Smoothing my skirt, I make my way to the conference room and push open the door. I see Carmen first. She looks up and smiles at me. I don't see Edward. The rest of the team is settling in, getting coffee, and chatting. Placing my belongings on the large conference table, I wander over to the credenza, where some refreshments are laid out. Two large carafes of coffee and some fruit and bagels sit on one side.
No hot chocolate.
I'm reaching for a bottle of water and some grapes when I feel his presence. His subtle but intoxicating scent swirls around me, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I know he's right next to me, but I don't look at him.
"Hello, Bella."
His voice is soft, almost sad, and it tempers a bit of my anger. Turning to face him, I'm shocked at what I see. There are shadows underneath his eyes as if he hasn't slept well, and it doesn't look like he shaved this morning, either.
"How are you?" he asks, and his eyes roam over my face.
"I'm good," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. It's the first time we've spoken since Saturday.
He runs his hand through his hair, and my brow furrows in concern.
"Are you all right, Edward?"
He looks to the side and then back to my face.
"I'm fine. I've just been dealing with some … things."
Fear grips me.
"Are the boys -"
"The boys are fine," he says before sighing.
I have a sudden thought about Edward's health. I've never even asked him. What if something is physically wrong with Edward? Just like his brother. Jesus, what if he's sick too?
"Are you," I say and place my hand on his arm. "Physically. Are you all right, Edward?"
His eyes get wide, and he shakes his head.
"No, no, I'm fine." He looks around the room before turning back to me.
"Maybe … can we talk after the meeting?"
There's something in his eyes, a vulnerability, and I resist the urge to reach out and put my arms around him. We both turn our heads when Mr. Volturi walks into the room and greets everyone in his usual boisterous manner.
"All right, kids. This is it. I've received some teasers from you over the last few weeks, but this is the real deal. Show me what you've got."
Whatever moment Edward and I are having is broken, and I move around him to take my seat. He shuffles to a chair across the table and sits. There's obviously something going on with him, and no matter how hurt I might be, Edward and I are still friends, and I resolve to hear him out after the meeting. Mr. Volturi looks over at Edward and me, and I push back from the table. It's go-time. Edward stands as well, and we meet at the front of the room. I give him a small smile before starting the PowerPoint presentation. Pulling up the first slide, the Anderson logo flashes on the screen. Edward clears his throat and looks out over the team.
"So, Anderson Athletic Wear has gone through quite a growth in the last ten years …."
For the next half hour, I watch Edward as he works the room, and I marvel at his level of expertise. He's charismatic. Something about him draws you in, and it's more than his good looks. It's the effortless way he has with people. It's a genuineness that seeps out of every pore in his body. And watching him bring forth this idea we've all been nurturing for the past eight weeks -the final fruition of our combined hard work, I'm in awe. When he's in front of the client, he's going to kill it.
He turns to me after the fourth slide, and the room is quiet. Oh, shit. This is my part. I step in front of the screen, and even though I have the presentation memorized and my brain knows exactly what to say, I barely hear the words coming out of my mouth. Because when my eyes land on Edward and I see the way he's staring at me, I have a revelation. I've known it all along, but it's not until this exact moment, watching his haunted green eyes, that I admit it.
I'm falling in love with Edward. I have been for weeks.
~!~
By all accounts, we do a phenomenal job. Mr. Volturi is pleased, and with only a few minor adjustments he suggested, I think we're ready for the real pitch in a few weeks. Some members of the team have trickled out, leaving only a handful in the room. Carmen calls Edward and me over while a few others have broken off into smaller groups to have private discussions. Carmen flips through some pages, and Edward and I lean forward to take a closer look.
"Great job, you two," Mr. Volturi says.
Edward and I look up. He's standing by the door, getting ready to leave. I smile at him and can't help but feel a surge of pride from his praise. Before he walks out, he turns back.
"Oh, by the way, I wanted to give you a heads-up. I'm planning a dinner for the team – for all your hard work. It's my way of thanking you for the long hours and late nights away from your families. The goal is to have fun. Spouses, significant others. I want them all there."
He looks at me.
"Bella, bring the new guy along if you want."
My eyes get wide.
What the?
Edward's head whips in my direction, and my face gets hot.
"W-h-h-at?" I stutter.
Volturi's brow furrows.
"I could have sworn Amy said you were dating someone."
Oh my God. I went on one date with a guy six months ago. One. That's the last time I tell her anything. I turn to Edward, but his head is down, and he doesn't look at me.
Volturi shakes his head.
"I should know better than to listen to office gossip. If you'd like to bring anyone, please feel free."
He looks at Edward, and my heart starts to race because I have a sickening feeling about what he's going to say.
"How about Kate, Edward? Think she can swing it? You guys are still doing every other weekend, right?"
Edward doesn't raise his head.
My blood pounds in my ears, and I can't hear anything over the roar. I place a hand on the back of Carmen's chair to steady myself. She's pointing to something on the page, but I don't see any of it.
"Has she decided on a firm yet? " Volturi asks Edward. "It's down to two, right? I know WJP will be sorry to lose their best attorney, but their loss is Chicago's gain. Oh, and if she's still interested, Heidi said she can get her an appointment with that designer. The one who made the dress she liked."
I want to die. I want to crawl under the table and die right here on the carpeted floor of this conference room on the fourteenth floor. I keep my grip on the back of Carmen's chair as the other people in the room go about their business. As if my world didn't just get pulled entirely out from underneath me. Edward finally lifts his head but doesn't look at me.
"I'll ask her," he says, and his voice is hoarse. "Her schedule is pretty hectic."
"I understand," Volturi says, turning back to me.
"Bella, have you met Edward's fiancé yet?"
I think I might be sick. But I plaster a smile on my face.
"No, not yet. I look forward to meeting her, though."
I look at Edward, but he won't meet my gaze. There's no emotion on his face. Not a flicker. Tears threaten to spill over. I need to get out of this room. I need to leave. Now. I walk around the table and gather my laptop and bag.
"You know what?" I say, and I hope they don't hear the waver in my voice. "I completely forgot. I've got a virtual meeting in ten minutes. I really have to run."
Edward's voice is soft, almost pleading.
"Bella."
I don't acknowledge him.
"Great job, everyone," I say, smiling at Carmen.
I can feel Edward staring at me intently, but I still don't look at him. Brushing past Mr. Volturi, I open the glass door and rush into the hallway. Holding back tears, I attempt to keep a normal pace as I try to get as far away from that room and Edward as I can.
A/N
Don't burn him at the stake yet.
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