A/N: So, I was meant to post yesterday, but I was bingeing The Witcher and got distracted, Fail. I'll post chapter 5 a day early next week to make up for it.
Thank you for all the love. I really appreciate it. Makes me smile.
These chapters are not edited, but they're pre-read. I am imperfect, what can I say?
Thanks to Kim anyway, and StarryEyedWriter.
Hope you enjoy.
Footprints in the Sand
Chapter 4
During the second before Frowning Daddy reacts to his daughter's greeting, I catch him staring at me with the strangest expression on his face. He appears almost curious, but troubled, and maybe even annoyed, as his heavily furrowed, perfectly groomed brows bridge low over his clear eyes.
It's almost as intimidating as it is confusing, but I don't have time to cower beneath it, because in an instant it passes. As Addie leaps off the couch and runs toward him, his focus switches to her and his entire face lights up into an enormous smile. Then pulling his hands from his pockets, he outstretches his arms and scoops her up.
"I should go," I whisper to Mrs. Cullen, after sinking into the plush, too-white cushions and praying for death. Still, I'm hoping I can sneak past Frowning Daddy unseen while he's distracted.
Esme nods her head, and helping me off the couch, she politely ushers me toward the entrance. "Don't forget your mail, dear."
"Thank you," I murmur, keeping my voice hushed in an effort to draw less attention to myself.
Addie is planting her lips to her father's face repeatedly, and it's the perfect time to escape unnoticed. Unfortunately, she spots me just as I'm about to make a break for freedom.
"Goodbye, Bella!" She stops me dead in my tracks as I fight to prevent my groan from becoming audible. "Daddy, Bella watched Lady and the Tramp with me and Grandma," she announces. She's high in her father's arms, her small hands wrapped around his neck as he holds her close to him, and what's obvious, despite this man being a complete and utter jerk-face, is he adores his daughter.
"Did she..." he appears to contemplate it, and as his eyes capture mine a second time, his forehead again knots deeply.
I'm not sticking around to analyze it, though, and offering him an awkward, please-kill-me kind of smile, I force my gaze to Addie, "Goodbye, Miss Addie."
"See you tomorrow, Bella," she replies in her chirpy, sing-song voice, and before she can offer me her signature high-five, or bring it to Frowning Daddy's attention that my name is now displayed above his on her cast, I hurry out the door, slamming it a little too loudly behind me.
I forget my mail, of course, but all I can focus on are the full-bodied cringes that assault me as I make my way home. I wait until I'm in the foyer of my apartment before I articulate my mortification, though, and after opening my letterbox and grabbing my mail impatiently, I trudge up the stairs to my apartment continuing to mutter and complain loudly to myself as I do.
For some strange reason, I feel like Frowning Daddy caught me stealing from his wallet or something to that extent. It's completely irrational—I've known his mother for twelve months before I had the displeasure of having my mail thrown at me by him—but I can't shake it, and of course, my evening only decides to get worse. As I'm sifting through my mail separating two more letters addressed to Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, I come across a folded note written on lined stationary. I open it curiously, and as my eyes immediately draw to the header Cullen/Hale and Associates P.L.L.C. my heart once again stalls behind my ribs.
"Oh, fuck, what now...?" I moan, but after a moment where I contemplate burning it, I accept the inevitable mind-fuckery Frowning Daddy means to inflict upon me, and read it.
Dear Bella from next door to Grandma's house,
Thank you for your help Saturday evening.
Regards – E.C (Asshole)
It's written in the exact same obnoxiously neat handwriting as Addie's birthday invite, and my reaction to it is near identical. I'm without words.
For a moment, at least.
"I... I... I... What does this mean? Is this man fucking with me?!" I burst out into my empty apartment like a lunatic, before losing the plot, I scrunch the note up into a ball and senselessly toss it at the wall. "Fuck you, jerkoff asshole!"
Almost a month out from New Year, I make a second resolution; no going inside the Dutch Colonial for any reason.
. . .
"Is he...flirting with you?" Is Alice's conclusion the following week during our bi-weekly coffee at La Marzocco Café on 1st Avenue. It's our usual haunt to gossip and discuss all things Alice and Jay's wedding. And it would seem, Frowning Daddy, as well.
After nine painful days of deliberating whether to shove the offending note in the trash and forget about it, or to foster unnecessary conspiracy theories by showing Alice, the latter finally won out. Though I did iron the creases out even as I wished all manner of pain on the obnoxious author and his even more obnoxiously neat handwriting.
"Flirting?" I echo in exasperation as I almost choke on my blueberry muffin. She doesn't disappoint; though, why I'm surprised is anyone's guess. Alice is one of those people who believe that boys who constantly shove you over or stick "loser" signs on your back are secretly in love with you. Point in case: Jacob Black from 8th grade. Because of Alice's romantic delusions, she talked me into asking him to the girl's choice dance after an entire year of being tortured by him, only to have him laugh in my face in front of half our grade. "The man looks at me like I have leprosy. He is not flirting with me—he's mocking me. And he's gay."
"I am not getting that vibe." She's insistent, but shrugging a disinterested shoulder, she quickly changes the subject. "The damn florist screwed up my center pieces..."
With a somewhat inward sigh, I let it go, even as it continues to simmer just below the surface. I have zero clue why I'm letting him get under my skin. I can only attribute it to his obscenely good looks, and my still festering resentment for all things male courtesy of Tyler.
"So, you still coming Friday night?" Alice breaks into my preoccupation after going off into a completely partisan tirade.
"Of course," I assure her.
"You know, Jay has some rather nice-looking family members..." she doesn't elaborate, but she doesn't have to. She's been not so subtly hinting at the same thing for the last several weeks.
"Too soon," I cut her down as I shove Frowning Daddy's note back in my purse. I look up at her just in time to witness her pout. "I'm serious."
"I have a theory..." A mischievous grin twitches at her lips.
"What?" I humor her dryly.
"One month mourning for each year you were together, minus a day for how many asshole points he received during the relationship."
"If that was the case it'd be negative a damn thousand!" I blurt.
"My point exactly. So, shall I introduce you?"
"No." I'm adamant.
"But Riley has beautiful blue eyes like Jay," she says wistfully, and I don't bother to ask who the hell Riley is; it's a trap. One I'm not about to walk into it.
"I'm sure he does, but I'm still not interested." I bring the rim of my cup to my lips, only to almost asphyxiate as my eyes unwittingly meet a pair of clear green ones below a nauseatingly perfectly groomed brow.
He pauses in his tracks as though contemplating his next move, while I futilely attempt to hide myself behind my coffee.
"What are you doing?" Alice notes in confusion, just as he makes his way over to us. "You're turning pale. Are you—"
"Bella-from-next-door-to-Grandma's-house," is how he decides to acknowledge me, complete with barely concealed, arrogant smirk.
"Oh my god!" Is Alice's reaction. I mean, I can't fault her for it, but Jesus Christ...
"Addie's daddy," I reciprocate, failing to match his tenor in... anything; it's beside the point, though, because the handsome, gay asshole is definitely stalking me.
He smiles and it's almost warm, before his attention is inevitably drawn by Alice's lack of tact.
"You look familiar."
"Do I?" he questions, his smirk twitching with the barest hint of amusement.
"You do..." She appears to contemplate it further while he only stands before us, that intense gaze fixing back to me.
"Thank you for your note," I speak up in an attempt to diffuse the awkward silence developing between us. I wish I kept my mouth shut though, because my voice completely fails in volume and finishes with a squeak—something that only makes the bastard's smirk reappear. I clear my throat roughly, "But I told you—"
"I'm Alice, by the way," Alice cuts in, thrusting her hand out to him and almost spilling her coffee over me. "Bella's B-F-F."
He takes it briefly, and I note that his expression is almost normal in comparison to what he usually throws at me. "Edward. Bella..." He again turns back to me.
"From next door to grandma's house," I add, my sarcasm falling short of bitter. He introduced himself to Alice, I note; a courtesy he didn't extend to me.
"Yes, well... Please don't feel the need to humor Addie, in future." His brows raise, giving me the impression he's somehow reprimanding me.
I stare up at him, my mouth opening and closing in silence. Is he outright telling me to stay away from his daughter? In front of Alice? In a public café?
Asshole!
"I don't humor her," I counter in a mutter, my eyes falling to the mug I'm clutching too tightly in my grip. "She's usually playing in the front yard when I'm coming back from my runs. That's how she introduced herself," I feel the need to explain, and I hate myself for it. I'm not some creepy befriender of children, though.
"I'm sorry, you're what?" he asks as though he's confused, or maybe appalled, but then, how silly of me to think people from his gene pool need to do menial exercise to stay in shape.
"My runs. I go jogging on the days I'm not working."
"Bella has ADHD," Alice pipes up, and I'm sure she thinks she's somehow helping.
"Okay..." He's bemused again. At my expense.
"I mean, that's why she runs. It helps with it," she continues on, completely ignoring my warning glare to shut the hell up post haste before I throw my coffee in her eyes.
"I see." He clears his throat softly and glances toward the entrance; he wants to escape. "Well..."
"We were just leaving." I pull myself to my feet hastily, and spill my half-full coffee over the rim of the mug and down my fingers.
"No, we weren't—we're still talking about my center-pieces," Alice contradicts me, giving me an odd look, because the girl simply cannot read facial cues. Or cues in general.
He's smirking again, his head bowed this time as he pulls up his sleeve to check his watch. "I have to get back," he murmurs. "Bella." He nods at me with some weird, anti-social formality, before his eyes turn toward Alice. "Pleased to meet you, Alice."
"Pleasure," she replies with way too much cheer behind her voice, as he turns his back on us and leaves. Without ordering anything.
I can only stare after him, my heart hammering behind my temples in what I'm sure is abject humiliation, when he does something that almost surprises me. Reaching up, he drags a set of stiff fingers through his hair; much like he did when I ran into him at the door to Emergency.
"Wow..." Alice offers, blowing out a long-winded breath.
"Could that have gone any worse!?" I direct at her in accusation through clenched teeth.
"What?" she asks blankly. "Holy shit is he fiiiiiiiine. I mean, Jay is hotter, but goddamn, girl, he is—"
"Please shut up," I plead with her, flopping back beside her in defeat.
"And, girl, he is most definitely, one-hundred-percent straight." She feels the need to twist the knife.
"Of course he is," I mumble bitterly.
"He is totally crushing on you, though. You know that, right?" Alice decides to insert that delusional logic of hers, and this time I do choke.
"You have got to be kidding me!" I half-manage to articulate in complete and utter disbelief after I somewhat compose myself.
"A guy has a certain vulnerability in his eyes when he likes a girl. I recognized it immediately. I think that's why he looked so familiar." She tilts her head and smiles wistfully to herself. "I wish Jay still had it, but now he only looks at me with come-fuck-me eyes." There's a wicked, rueful gleam in her eyes before she starts giggling.
"Alice..." I sigh.
"Now every time you bitch about him, I have a face to go with the handwriting."
"I do not bitch about him!" I demand, affronted by the assertion, and of course Alice only raises a completely contradictory brow.
"Bitch, whine, complain—potatoes, po-tah-toes. So, are lilies too funeral, you think?"
. . .
My tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Berty—whom Alice referred to as the Grammar Gestapo—would often remark how you always see a word everywhere once you learn it. I never found that to be true; however, I quickly realize that it does apply to Frowning Daddy.
After the last disastrous run-in with him he appears to be everywhere. I'm sure it's just to torture me.
Our carts collided the following Wednesday afternoon at Safeway. The bastard eats tofu; leaving my suspicions re: his sexuality well and truly up in the air. Though, to be fair, my cart consisted of ramen, canned tuna and Oreos; pathetic in itself.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I quickly apologized, before looking up to that grotesquely handsome face while being simultaneously assaulted by a full-bodied flush. "Erm...I mean..." All words left me while my mouth fell completely open, and I'm pretty sure I blinked repeatedly á la deer caught in the headlights.
"I have right of way," he said, his smirk only moderately lording it over my sort-of-okay looks. He was dressed in the three piece suit I'm fast becoming familiar with, only his tie was loose and his hair was disheveled. He looked like he'd either had a rough day, or just had mind-numbing sex, and it was way more attractive than I'm still willing to admit.
I quickly shuffled off to the safety of the women's health aisle, and inadvertently browsed vaginal creams until it was safe to emerge.
The next was at the Shell gas station in lower Queen Anne Friday night. I'd just come off my final shift and was on my way home. I was called in that morning at 6am after four hours sleep to fill a seven-to-seven, and to say I was shattered was an understatement. I was still in my scrubs, breaking hospital protocol, but I was literally too wiped out to even notice.
There I was, practically swaying where I stood as I filled my gas tank, when a soft, albeit deliberate, clearing of a throat drew my attention. He was mirroring me the next car over, smirk intact. I almost forgot to breathe, and only stared at him for a good ten seconds before I could come to any coherent thought. That's when he pulled his hand from his pocket and held it up in an openly patronizing greeting. All I could think was who the hell pumps gas with their hand in their pocket? I mean, other than James Dean, that is. Then I realized it was more than likely due to the weather; it was freezing, but in my exhaustion, I was barely registering it.
In response, I tilted my head in awkward acknowledgement, and then promptly stared down at the damp concrete even after my gas tank was full. The truth of the matter was, I was vomited over again at work, and was wearing a pair of hospital supplied Crocs. Which I didn't want Frowning Daddy to see.
Zero idea why.
"Bella!" A muffled voice broke into my distraction, and I looked up to see Addie, nose and mouth squashed to the window in the back seat, waving frantically at me.
The smile immediately warmed my face, and I waved back, only to then find myself gazing into her father's eyes not five seconds later. This time there was an odd, almost-responsive smile on his lips. Again, I blinked, broke his gaze, removed the pump from my gas tank, accidentally spilled it all over my crocs and scrubs, and then left in a fluster without paying.
Then came Friday night...
That day Alice and I went shopping at Westlake Mall where my entirely-too-persuasive bestie hamstringed me into buying something that was wholly and completely out of my comfort zone. It was black, tight-fitting, had spaghetti straps, and made my bust a hell of a lot bustier than it really is.
To be fair, it was the only dress Alice picked out that didn't scream Sluts R Us. Plus, I secretly liked the idea of being single in front of Jay's beautiful-blue-eyed family members, and was warming up to the prospect of meeting someone new.
"Tell me more about Riley?" I relented as we headed to the parking lot to go home.
"Huh?" Alice uttered, turning to me in confusion. "Oh," she waved her hand dismissively, "he has a girlfriend."
"What?" I asked blankly. "Last week..." I gave up. It was pointless trying to keep up with Alice, let alone argue with her.
"Shall I come over and do your hair?" she proposed as I was loading my bags into the trunk of my car.
"Alice," I turned to her and arched a cynical brow, "it's a housewarming for your apartment, not prom."
"Still..." She shrugged a contradictory shoulder.
"I should be fine," I assured her with a quick grin. "Thanks."
"No probs. Don't be late."
"I won't."
. . .
Jasper and Alice's soon-to-be marital abode is in a five story industrial loft in Pioneer Square. I arrive a few minutes before seven, clad in the said tight black dress beneath a coat and scarf.
"Hey, Jay," I greet him after he opens the door and throws me a welcoming grin.
"Hey, Bella." Pulling the door wider, he stands aside for me to enter. "Alice is in the kitchen."
The apartment is larger than mine and modern, but in keeping with the architecture of the block, with exposed brick and overhead beams. To the right of the entry is the dining and kitchen, while to the left is the living room where roughly a half dozen people are standing around chatting; a couple of them turn to gaze at me curiously.
After shrugging out of my coat and hanging it on the hook just inside, I immediately make my way toward the kitchen where Alice is busy preparing something in a large metal bowl. That's when a familiar chirpy voice choruses my name.
My head turns automatically and I find myself staring at Addie waving at me enthusiastically from across the living room in the doorway off what looks to be a hall, while standing beside her is her as equally surprised grandmother. Addie makes a beeline for me then before wrapping her unbroken arm around my leg in greeting. "Is Jasper your cousin too?"
Cousin?
"Hey, Addie—what...?" The question dies on my lips, but it's not exactly something I can grill her on.
Cousin? That means Frowning Daddy—
"Grandma! Bella is here!" Addie turns and announces to the room, heading off my audible groan, while I whip my head in every direction looking for an escape route.
"This way." Alice suddenly grabs my arm and yanks me through the living room into the same hall Addie and Mrs. Cullen just emerged from. We stop before a hallstand sitting between two doors where Alice picks up a small framed photo and holds it out to me. "Remember when I said he looked familiar?" she reminds me with more than an obvious edge of sheepishness behind her voice.
I take the photo from her hands and stare down at it. It's three, bare-chested teenage boys on a pier over a waterway, clutching fishing poles and each holding up their catch. Jay is on the right, cheesy grin in tow, while in the middle, with his brother undoubtedly to the left of him, is Frowning Daddy.
"Mother of god!" I mutter to myself, handing her back the photo before dropping my head into my palm. Naturally, the bastard was just as hideously good-looking as a kid; though, his hair was definitely on the plane of red back then, and that makes no sense. Gingers are not supposed to be this handsome.
"Edward and Emmett are Jay's cousins on Mrs. Cullen's side," Alice hastily explains. "They don't often see each other anymore, though, but..." Her voice fades and she curves her arm around my waist. "Good thing you're wearing this outfit though, right?"
"What?" I turn to her, eyeing her suspiciously as she winks with a suspicious amount of innuendo. "Is that what this dress was all about today?" I demand, grabbing both my scantily-clad breasts in emphasis.
"Well..." She has the decency to look guilty.
"You knew." I come to the obvious conclusion before expelling my breath. "Alice..." I complain.
"Oh come on, this major hottie is crushing on you. It's my civic duty to help." She giggles.
"You're delusional," I say with a sigh. "Are you sure he's coming?"
"He's going to be late, apparently."
It's something at least. Maybe I can stage a sudden onset virus and leave before he arrives.
Naturally, Addie sticks to my side like glue, despite her grandmother's attempts to dissuade her.
"Addie, leave Bella be!" she scolds her for the umpteenth time before offering me an apologetic smile. "I'm terribly sorry, Bella."
Alice has kept me busy in the kitchen making hors d'oeuvres with her, while Addie, eye level with the bench, offers her services.
"It's fine, really," I assure.
"I'm helping Bella and Alice, Grandma," Addie pipes up, holding up a small tub of store-bought pâté with her pink-plastered arm.
"She is," Alice immediately backs her up, because she's already as in love with her as I am.
"Okay," Mrs. Cullen relents with a sigh, "but send her on her way if she gets under foot."
"I will," I promise.
"Bella's going to braid my hair soon," Addie announces.
Esme smiles, it's tight around the edges, before her focus again turns to me. "How do you know Jasper, Bella?"
"Through Alice," I admit.
"We've been friends since nursery school," Alice adds. "Bella's my Maid of Honor."
"How nice," Esme notes, before Alice hands her a glass of punch and sends her back to the living room.
Frowning Daddy has yet to arrive, and Alice, knowing how on edge it's making me, keeps attempting to shove a glass of red wine in my hands.
"I'm fine, Alice," I insist, motioning subtly in Addie's direction in emphasis. With her ever curious gaze constantly fixed to us, it doesn't feel right drinking in front of her.
And why Frowning Daddy allowed her to be present at an adult gathering is anyone's guess.
Of course he walks in the room just as I'm doing Addie's hair. Without a hairbrush on hand, I decided to braid the front to keep it out of her eyes. Her long hair is often loose around her shoulders like a wildflower, but I know how annoying that can be. While my hair isn't as long as Addie's, it still falls to midway down my back. Alice found her a stool; she's sitting on it facing me, her little hands clutching the material of my dress.
She spots him immediately.
"Hi, Daddy!" she announces his arrival the same way she did mine.
His eyes immediately zero in on her, and then to me and my fingers tangled around his daughter's hair, mid-braid. He frowns, only he doesn't look pissed off as much as he does troubled, and maybe a tad contemplative. He's wearing a navy suit, and looks as catastrophically handsome as he usually does. Though his hair's a mess again, as if he's just had a busty female gripping it.
He makes his way into the kitchen as I break into a sweat.
"Hey, Tiger," he says, his voice softening and his expression instantly reversing as a broad grin tugs on his lips. He places his palm to the top of Addie's head, his fingers momentarily coming into contact with mine. I freeze, but all I can think is that he calls Addie Tiger, and how adorable it is.
Not to mention how amazingly sexy he smells up close.
"Bella's braiding my hair," she points out what I'm still in the midst of even as my hands begin to shake.
"I can see that. Bella..." Is how he acknowledges me, placing his first two fingers to his forehead in some kind of salute.
I open my mouth to reciprocate, when I realize I have no idea what to call him. "Addie's daddy" is too petty, and he's never introduced himself, so referring to him by name seems forward. "H-hello," I stammer like an idiot, and immediately focus my attention back to Addie.
I'm beginning to sway, and I have no idea whether it's because of his intimidating presence or if I really am coming down with a virus.
"I knew you looked familiar," Is how Alice greets him while rescuing me in the process.
Frowning Daddy smirks and takes a cracker with cheese from the platter Alice holds out in offer. "Is she getting in the way?" His head tilts in reference to Addie, but who he put that question to, I have no idea.
I refuse to make eye contact with him
Alice answers, regardless. "Of course she isn't. She's helping. Aren't you, Addie?"
Addie nods enthusiastically, making a mess of her braid and causing me to back track on it.
"Okay, well..." His voice trails, and as the frown reappears on his face again, he turns and leaves the room.
"Girl, o-m-g," Alice murmurs impressed against my earlobe, with more than a deliberate amount of innuendo. "He is crushing on you bad."
"Jacob Black?" I remind her of the time her delusions humiliated me, but my cool façade is a complete cover. I'm such a wreck I've had to restart Addie's hair three times over.
Alice scoffs and shrugs an indifferent shoulder. "I still maintain he was into you."
"Well, take my word on it this time. He's not crushing on me, he hates me!"
Addie heard the latter part, and glancing up at me, she flashes me a sweet smile. "Daddy doesn't hate you, Bella. I heard him tell Uncle Emmett that you're pretty."
A/N: Thanks for reading.