Hello again! Thank you so much for being patient. Real life caught up with me and left me spinning for a while. Happy to say things are slowing down for me, which means we'll get back to regular updates! Yay!

Thanks to you for your reviews and your patience, and my team for everything.

We left Isabella catching Edward and a mystery man on the docks. Who could it be?

Much to her dismay, Isabella freezes at the sight of Edward and the tall stranger as they stand to the right of the dock, their view partially obscured by men carrying large sacks of cargo from the ships at the pier. It's the first time she has seen him outside of The Lost Key, the dark hues of the pub casting him in a light much different than how she sees him now.

While the sun is hidden beneath a thick layer of clouds, it still manages to paint him favorably as he speaks to the man Isabella doesn't know. Edward's hair is shorn on the sides with thick, copper hair on the top parted to one side, his hat in his hand as he brings a cigarette up to his mouth with the other. The two men carry on their conversation as if the smoke billowing between them isn't there, and Isabella watches as Edward's eyes discreetly sweep down the street.

She moves behind a cart, hoping he doesn't see her, before daring to look in his direction again. She counts to three before opening her eyes, and when she does, he's gone.

So is the man he was talking to.

Startled by their sudden departure, she resituates her bag of groceries and steps forward to continue on her way home as if she never saw him at all.

Except she only manages to take a few steps before a gruff voice behind her makes her drop her bags to the ground.

"Causing trouble this early in the day, Isabella?"

Edward watches as she turns to face him, her hands clutching her chest in fright. If he wasn't so disturbed at seeing her down by the docks, he might have chuckled in jest at the expression on her face.

"It's not early," she scoffs with a roll of her eyes, "and what trouble am I causing down here?"

He at least has the decency to help her with the bags he made her drop. His eyes meet hers momentarily before he turns to look back at the calm water.

"The fact that you're unaware is the most troubling part of all," he replies, running a hand down his face. His hat is back on his head now, portions of his face shadowed by the brim. "You shouldn't be here."

A confused look crosses her face. "I didn't mean to. I needed to pick up a few things, and I guess my curiosity got the better of me," Isabella explains. "It led me down here."

He looks at the bags in her hand, caving to his own curiosity as he peers inside them. "Miller's?"

Isabella nods. "Just for a few things."

The small grocer had been exactly the kind of place she was looking for. Located perfectly between Rosalie's and The Lost Key, she had spent several minutes wandering the small store before the owner introduced himself to her and showed her exactly where she would find the items she needed.

"Fine choice," Edward murmurs before clearing his throat. "He's a good man, Arthur Miller."

"Seems so, but I'm not sure if everyone around here is as they seem."

"Maybe not," Edward concedes. "I reckon you're one of them."

Isabella cocks her head to the side. "What makes you think that?"

He doesn't answer her and instead starts to walk slowly back towards the city's busier streets. His pace indicates she should follow, and she adjusts her bags and falls in line next to him. They walk silently together; it isn't as awkward as she thought it could be, but she doesn't know exactly what to say. This is the first time they've held a conversation beyond the times they've spoken at the pub, and those are usually quick and related to matters of the pub. While not abrasive, Isabella knows Edward is all business and holds herself accordingly.

Today, his hands rest in his pockets, and his eyes remain on either the ground in front of them or straight ahead. He clears his throat as they walk. "You're too good for here. Or so you seem," he adds with what she thinks is something that resembles a slight smile.

"I don't know," she disagrees amicably. He leads them left at the top of the street, and he holds an arm out to show her where he wants the two of them to go. "After spending the afternoon acquainting myself with some of the shops, it's not as different from home as I had originally thought."

"How so?"

"They're workers," Isabella notes simply. "It reminds me of my family. My father on the farm and my uncle at his pub in the center of town."

Edward nods, remembering her mentioning the pub owner the first day he met her. "He trained you well, your uncle?"

She nods. "It was important to my father that we knew how to do both. Work the farm and the pub."

"You and your brother?" He watches her nod, a soft look ghosting across her face.

"Mother hated it," Isabella laughs softly.

"I bet she knew you'd end up putting your talent to use somewhere," Edward offers.

She pauses, and the two of them stop walking. She looks at him, a laugh of disbelief in her voice. "You think I'm talented?"

He feels the edges of his mouth lift upwards. "You have a gift," he replies. He resumes walking once more.

"Thank you," she breathes, falling in line with his steps again. "I know what I'm asking of you, Mr. Cullen. I'm sure someone without any sort of agenda would have been what you were looking for."

"I did have my doubts," he admits. "Still do. Even before you told me about your brother and your plans to solve it all yourself."

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Frankly, yes. The patrons of my pub all have stories and agendas of their own. Mostly good. Though not all of them." Edward sighs. "No one else in the city has a woman working behind the bar."

"Why so? Is it a bad thing?"

"For me, it's proving not to be, from a business standpoint. But we should have known everyone would want to see a woman working in my pub."

"Not the same way Rosalie and Victoria work."

Edward's head shoots in her direction at the sound of her name. "You've seen Victoria?"

Isabella nods. "Last night. Or early this morning, I suppose." She looks over and sees him lost in thought as they continue to walk away from the docks. "Why?"

"Are you satisfied with your lodgings?"

"Yes," Isabella sighs, aware he has changed the subject. "Rosalie has been more than accommodating. And the earnings I've made at The Lost Key have helped secure me at least another week."

"Good."

When they turn two more corners, she sees The Lost Key at the end of the street. "Who was that man you were talking to earlier?"

"I thought Rosalie told you no questions," Edward says, lighting another cigarette.

"That rule applies to you as well?"

"It's not a bad rule to follow," Edward shrugs and then turns towards her. "That man was Marcus Volturi. And he is exactly as he seems."

See you soon! I promise!