Hello, lovelies.
Thanks for reading and reviewing, and for my team who helps make sure these words make some type of sense!
The rain is steady and cold as it lands against the windows of The Lost Key, the thick droplets of water sliding down the glass in slow streams. With seemingly no end in sight to the inclement weather, Edward Cullen slides into a secluded booth in the back of the pub and lets the silence seep into his bones.
It won't be silent for long, as the rain keeps people inside their homes for now but will make them restless later, and he anticipates the pub to be filled to the brim with all the regulars before the evening is over.
But for now, he sips casually on his whisky as Emmett tinkers behind the bar like he always does when the pub is empty like this. Edward always appreciates days like these; the kind that makes the world slow down just long enough for him to gather pieces of himself that are in constant need of refocus. He doesn't like it for too long, the silence. Too long makes his head begin to spin too much, too fast, and he doesn't have the time he'll need to put everything back into place.
Everything in his life has a place. A purpose. Nothing is done in jest or without thought. He is far too busy of a man to have to go back and retrace his steps or fix his mistakes.
That's why he doesn't make any.
He's spent years making sure mistakes wouldn't happen.
He chuckles to himself in the empty booth when he realizes he might have gone ahead and done it anyway. He may have brought the trouble right into his own lap.
Bringing the glass up to his lips, he savors the light hints of vanilla and honey-soaked pear on his tongue, his gaze never leaving the raindrops against the window as he stares. Nothing is in front of him on the table save his drink and a cigarette, and he prefers it that way so he can concentrate on the matter at hand.
As the owner of one of the most popular establishments in Port Angeles, there are always matters at hand. Situations to be dealt with.
But never mistakes.
Everything he does, from the tie around his neck to the shoes on his feet to the bottles on his shelves, is calculated.
Weighed and measured.
But when Isabella Swan had walked into The Lost Key two days ago and almost certainly demanded the barmaid's job be hers, he had made a decision then and there, and it has plagued his mind in the two days since he last saw her.
Hiring her was a mistake. Not because of her brother or the tragic way he died, but because he had inadvertently thrown her to a pack of wolves by allowing her to work here at The Lost Key, with their regulars almost salivating at the sight of her.
The guests of The Lost Key know their place when he's around. They know their place even when he's not because they know nothing happens in Edward Cullen's pub without him knowing about it. If they so much as try to get away with anything outside of the parameters of what is deemed acceptable in his pub, let there be no doubt about it: there would be a consequence to such actions.
So, would something happen to Isabella here at The Lost Key? No.
But word travels fast around here, and it won't be long before new guests, those who aren't familiar with the unwritten rules here, would come to have a look for themselves at Edward's beautiful new barmaid.
"Think what it will do for the pub," Emmett had told him when Edward had once again voiced his concerns. "We'll bring in more on her shifts than we do in a month."
From a business standpoint, it's a win. Her talent behind the bar alone will draw in guests simply for how sufficiently she can pour them the drinks they need to forget a hard day's work.
But her beauty will draw in the crowds and also summon the dark thoughts that run through the minds of dark men.
James Swan's murder outside of his pub was not good for business. He can't afford anything else happening here.
She's a risk, he thinks as he downs the last of his drink and places it back onto the table, the clang of the glass breaking the silence.
"You good?" Emmett calls out from the bar, his eyes never leaving the shelves as he restocks the goods in preparation for the evening rush.
Edward sighs, running a hand over his face as he contemplates. "She's a risk, Em."
Emmett nods, not disagreeing with him in the slightest. He knew Isabella was trouble the minute she walked into the pub, whether she knew it or not. He still can't believe Edward offered her the job, despite proving herself to be more than qualified. "Give it a week. If she causes any trouble, just send her off."
"She comin' today?"
Emmett nods. "Should be. I had Rosie tell her the time."
At this, Edward turns his eyes from the window and looks over at Emmett behind the bar. "She's still there then? At Rosie's?"
"Last I heard, she was. Rosie says she keeps to herself and doesn't come out of her room when anyone is there."
Edward thinks of the men who frequent Rosie's building and clears his throat. "Better off that way, anyway."
"I don't disagree with you," Emmett says sourly.
"Hey," Edward says and stands from the booth, bringing his glass with him. "Rosie's smart. She knows what she's doing over there."
"She wants to stop," Emmett replies, his voice low as he wipes the countertop. "Like Victoria did."
"She brings in too much money. He'll never let her quit," Edward says, bringing another cigarette to his mouth. "But like I said, she's smart. Rose will figure it out."
"Figure what out?"
He didn't hear her come in, but he sees her now, her lips the color of blood red sin and her legs the color of snow. Isabella knows what she's doing - wearing proper clothing but somehow managing to bring to life the allure that her true self is quite indecent. It's a juxtaposition that both Edward and Emmett recognize the moment all three of them meet eyes.
And Edward knows for certain he most definitely has made a mistake.
One look at her has confirmed all of his worries in a single glance.
Will it end up being as bad as Edward thinks?
See you soon!
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