8 Council of War
It was like she was trying to prove to him that he'd made the wrong decision.
Since they'd gotten home from the will reading, everything had upset Alice. She'd wanted some grapes, but apparently Edward had done something wrong with them because when he put her in her high chair, she wouldn't eat them. She wanted some juice, but when he gave it to her she threw her sippy cup on the floor. She wanted to watch TV, but he couldn't understand what she was asking for and whatever it was didn't seem to be in her Netflix queue. He couldn't do anything to please her, and every time he spoke to her she answered with an irritable whine.
He was on the verge of taking her next door and apologizing to Carlisle for the mistake. He wasn't cut out for this after all. Alice was more than he could handle and Carlisle should have been the one to take custody. They could sort it all out with the lawyers later.
But he didn't really have time to have a heart-to-heart with Carlisle because Rosalie and Benjamin were coming over to discuss the graphic novel. He was picking through frozen casseroles, trying to find something that would stretch to feed the four of them, but everyone had portioned their meals for two. So he found a few that cooked at the same temperature instead. There was a ham and noodle casserole, chicken and rice, and something that was labeled, hand to God, "Yummy Cheese Potatoes." He wasn't sure whether that was advertising or the actual name of the dish, but whatever. He threw the meals into the oven together.
When he stepped back, he nearly tripped over a frying pan that definitely hadn't been on the floor a minute ago. "What—Alice. What are you doing?"
Alice was behind him, letting out a low, keening cry as she unloaded all of the pans from the lower cabinet. Once she had emptied the cabinet of dishes, she climbed inside and pulled the door closed behind her.
And Edward was pretty sure he was a garbage person because he was just glad that the wooden door muffled the sounds of her crying. Alice was sad and all he wanted was relief from the constant noise. But it wasn't like he hadn't tried to help her. The kid was determined to be pissy.
So, fine. She could sit in the cabinet if she wanted to. He gathered up the pans and stacked them on the counter, then started setting the table for dinner.
He was just finishing when the doorbell rang. He saw Benjamin's face on the monitor when he moved to the door, and he pulled it open.
"Hey, Benjamin, come on in."
Benjamin was just stepping across the threshold when Alice came barrelling up behind them. "NO!" she screamed and threw herself at the door, shoving it into Benjamin and trying to push him back out the door.
"Alice!"
She stamped her foot, her little face set in a scowl. "DOH WAY!"
"Stop that," he snapped, picking her up and moving her out of the way of the door. She shrieked and tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he managed to pull the door open again and let Benjamin in. "Sorry about that. Please have a seat."
"NO!" Alice screamed. "NOOOOOOO!"
"Jesus Christ, kid," Edward muttered, releasing her once he'd closed the door behind Benjamin. "What's wrong with you tonight?"
Her response was to sit down on the floor and start wailing.
Edward scrubbed his hands over his face. "Mother of God, how does Dad not have any alcohol in the house?"
Benjamin chuckled sympathetically from where he'd settled on the couch. "Having a rough night?"
"How binding are those papers we signed today? Can I still change my mind?"
But he didn't mean it and he actually felt kind of terrible joking about it. He was glad when Benjamin just smiled and shook his head.
"They're tough at this age," he said. "Most parents have had a chance to establish a relationship with their kids by the time they reach this point. You're coming in without that advantage."
What was frustrating for Edward was that he wanted his attention to be on something else. This was an exciting meeting for him and he wanted to be focused on the work and not on a crying kid. But he didn't know how he could focus on anything at all with the constant noise. Maybe if he put her back in the cabinet . . .
The doorbell rang again, and he glanced at the screen. There was a blond woman standing on the porch—and goddamn, she was hot. Which he didn't really have time to dwell on because Alice was still making an unholy racket. Anyway, that was probably Rosalie and he wasn't about to get involved with someone he was going to work with, even if she weren't such a pain in the ass.
He pulled the door open, but only part-way because Alice was still a little bit in the way.
"Come on in," he said. "I hope you brought earplugs."
Rosalie raised her eyebrows at Alice. "You're still babysitting?"
"Nope. Now I'm parenting. And clearly doing a bang-up job of it."
She smirked and moved to take a seat on the sofa near Benjamin. "I hope you're the lawyer."
"I am. Are you the troublemaker?"
"Yep. Rosalie."
"Benjamin."
Edward was glad they were handling their own introductions, because he probably couldn't just ignore Alice to make nice with them. It was pretty awkward, actually, standing over her without knowing how to settle her down while two people sat there and watched him be a bad guardian.
"Sorry. We're having a bad night."
"It's fine with me," Rosalie said. "I can wait while you two work this out."
Clearly she got a kick out of watching him struggle.
But . . . if there was anything worth struggling for, this was probably it. He took a deep breath and looked down at Alice, attempting to readjust his thinking. He'd been trying to get her to stop crying, but maybe this was one of those times where crying was important. "Through, not around, right?" he said, and sat down in front of her.
Alice didn't stop crying, but the volume of her wailing reduced under his attention.
"This isn't working very well, is it?" he said, trying to sound like he was commiserating with her rather than arguing. "This you-against-me thing. It's no good. We have to figure out how to get on the same side."
This apparently wasn't what she wanted to hear because she started howling louder.
He sighed. "You've had a pretty rough day, haven't you?"
She paused her crying to sniffle. "Uh-huh."
"Yeah, I hear you. You want to come sit with me and tell our friends about it?"
"Uh-huh."
This was progress. She'd stopped crying, and while the snot bubble that kept forming under her nose was a little distracting, he felt like he could get somewhere if they could talk through whatever was making her so fussy. He scooped her up and carried her to the rocking chair.
"I think the biggest problem," he said as he sat, "the one that makes everything rotten all the time, is that we miss Daddy."
"Wan Daddy," she agreed.
"Aw," Rosalie said sympathetically, "where's Daddy?"
"Daddy died."
"Uh-huh," Alice agreed tearfully. "Daddy died."
"Oh." She blinked in surprise. "I'm so sorry."
"It really sucks, huh?" Edward said to Alice.
She nodded, and the snot bubble grew and shrank with her breath. It was very unpleasant, but Edward didn't have a tissue and didn't want to disrupt their momentum by grabbing one.
"And then I think we woke you up too early from your nap."
"No!" She turned to him and shook her head vehemently. "A-nah seepy. No nap."
"You don't have to take another nap," he reassured her. "But I think I woke you up too early, and that was rude."
She seemed appeased and showed it by leaning against him and wiping her nose on his shirt. Awesome. That took care of the snot bubble, at least, but now she had mucus smeared across her cheek. Edward's shirt was a lost cause anyway, so he just stripped it off—careful to avoid the snotty patch—leaving himself in a white tank top. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe Alice's face more thoroughly, which she didn't appreciate, so he tried to distract her with more conversation.
"And then we went to a really boring meeting, huh?"
She scowled. "Yibbuff mean."
"She was mean." He glanced at Rosalie. "Elizabeth is my mom, and she was a nightmare today. I'm pretty sure she scared Alice."
"Say—Awiss bad!"
Edward was a little surprised by her perception. Elizabeth hadn't said exactly that, but that had been her essential message. Alice might not have understood all of her words, but she knew that Elizabeth had a problem with her.
He nodded. "Yeah, she said you were bad, but she was wrong. You're not bad. You're funny and clever, and you're my very favorite kid in the whole world."
"Awiss dood," she said defensively, fresh tears beading on her lower lashes.
"That's right. Alice is so, so good."
"Uh-huh."
"And now Mom is gone, and good riddance."
"A-widdance."
Edward grinned. Someday he was going to have to reconcile with his mom, and maybe then he could get the two of them on better terms with each other. But right now he was happy to throw her under the bus to soothe Alice.
"But we did some good things today, too, right? Remember this morning when we went to the pool?"
"Wimmeen!" Alice said, perking up.
"That's right, we went swimming! And you did a back float all by yourself!"
"Inna soot!"
"Yes, in your very cool swimming suit."
"I'n a moomaid!"
She was actually smiling, and Edward was breathing a sigh of relief. "Do you want to show them the picture?" he asked, very much wanting to spend some time dwelling on the thing that was making Alice happy.
"Oh, yes!"
He was already pulling out his phone and finding the photo he'd snapped. Alice took the phone from him and scrambled off his lap, hurrying over to Rosalie, who had been listening attentively. "See it! A moomaid!"
"Oh my goodness! That's so sweet!" She lifted Alice into her lap to better gush over the picture. "Look how cute your tail is!"
"Potoey!" Alice thrust the phone at Benjamin to allow him to admire it as well.
"What a pretty swimming suit you have! Did you have fun in the water?"
"Uh-huh. Uh-wud wab-a feet!"
"Oh, I see."
Edward suspected Benjamin hadn't understood Alice any better than he himself had, but he was playing along and Edward was grateful. Plus, now that she was happy, maybe he could get her focused on something else so he could get down to business.
"Are you hungry?"
Alice perked up. "Hassum wapes?"
He winced. He'd failed at the grapes earlier, but maybe her good mood would help. "Sure, let's get you some grapes. Come on, small fry."
"Mon, mo-fye." She raised her hands to him and let him pick her up.
"Dinner should be ready soon," Edward said to the other two. "If you want to come on over to the table, I'll get Alice set up and we can start talking about the book.
They rose and followed him, and Rosalie extracted a packet of papers from her messenger bag.
"The nondisclosure agreement," she said, and handed it to Benjamin. "I assume you'll want to look that over."
"Indeed." The two of them took seats at the table while Edward strapped Alice into her high chair. Then he fetched the abandoned plate of grapes and placed them in front of her.
"No! No!" She shook her head. "Inna bo!"
"In a . . . bowl?"
"Uh-huh."
And seriously? Was that why she'd refused to eat them earlier? They hadn't been in a bowl? But whatever. He took them to the kitchen and transferred them into a bowl, then took them back to Alice.
She looked at the bowl and grimaced. "Diss yuh-tee."
"What?" I thought you liked grapes.
"Diss," She said, poking at a stem.
"Oh. You want me to take them off the stem for you?"
"Uh-huh."
"You know how easy they are to pull off, right?" But he didn't want her to start crying again, so he plucked the grapes off of the little bunch he had given her. "How's that?"
"Deenchoo!" she said brightly and poked a grape into her mouth.
"Weird kid," he muttered to himself. He sat down at the table across from Rosalie and accepted the packet of papers she handed him. "What do you think, Benjamin?"
"I think we need to have a talk about the limitations of an NDA," Benjamin said. "Rosalie, are you aware that they don't cover criminal behavior? If there's a crime being committed here, Edward may have to report it."
"What if he doesn't see anything about the crime itself?" she asked. What if he reads about evidence of a crime that may have been committed, but doesn't have any first-hand knowledge?"
Benjamin frowned. "I'm not crazy about the fact that we're splitting hairs. Edward, the safest advice I can give you is not to get involved in anything that could even hint that you were complicit in something."
"But what if we're exposing it?" Rosalie pressed. "This graphic novel is a tell-all. This has been done before, right?"
He nodded slowly. "It's been done, but not without consequences. Are you prepared for a civil suit?"
"Are you?" she asked, one eyebrow raising in challenge.
He shook his head, chuckling. "I'm just the property guy. Edward, I think we need to bring Vlad in on this one."
He nearly recoiled just at the name. He'd met Vladimir Gheata once when he, at 15 years old, had been pulled over for driving drunk. Vlad had performed his job excellently and had gotten Edward off with a small fine and community service. Edward's father had been a lot less interested in letting Edward off the hook. He'd helped keep Edward out of serious legal trouble, but there'd been actual hell to pay at home. Edward had never been punished so severely, and he'd been pretty fucking careful about avoiding that kind of situation afterward.
But, hell, the man was good at his job, even if Edward now associated him with a grim memory. "Yeah. I know Dad had the firm on retainer, but maybe I'd better go ahead and set something up specifically for Rosalie and me."
"And anyone else associated with the book?" Benjamin asked. "Your agent? Publisher?"
That would be more expensive, but Edward figured he'd better pony up. He needed the protection. "Let's do it."
"I'll send over a contract tomorrow."
With a bill, Edward knew, but that was fine. He was still getting used to it, but he had an astonishing amount of money now and legal fees were part of the package. Besides, if this book was anywhere near as good as Rosalie was implying, this project was going to be fun.
"This looks fine," Benjamin said, setting his copy of the nondisclosure agreement on the table. "I think you can go ahead and sign."
Edward gave it a quick read-through and then scribbled his name on the bottom. Benjamin scanned the documents with his phone and then handed them over to Rosalie.
"Excellent," she said. "Now we can get to the fun part. I have a collection of journals, ledger sheets, calendars, and handwritten notes from my uncle, Caius Christopher. We all know he was a shady mother—" she glanced at Alice. "A shady character, but he also had really good lawyers and a knack for keeping any charges from sticking. We're going to make them stick."
"Is it worth it, though?" Benjamin asked. "I understand that you've got an ax to grind with your uncle, but the man is dead and the family has a reputation for being litigious. Is it worth upsetting them to sell some books?"
Rosalie's eyes flashed with anger. "Even if it were just about punishing my dad's family for what they put us through, yes, it would be worth it. But it's not. These papers also implicate at least two dozen people who are still alive and active in state and federal politics."
"Oh, shit." Edward muttered.
Rosalie produced another pair of papers from her bag and handed one to each of them. "A brief summary of the crimes committed and who was involved."
Edward scanned down the page, taking in an impressive list of felonies seasoned with a handful of misdemeanors. And the names on the page were essentially a who's-who of Washington state politics, including figures from both major parties.
"Jesus," he muttered as his eyes swept down the page. "Harassment, solicitation, embezzlement, extortion, electioneering"—he stopped, his eyes widening. He looked up at Rosalie and she nodded.
"Yes, that says murder."
"That says murder twice."
"Yep."
"Holy shit."
"Yep."
"We're definitely going to need Vlad," Benjamin muttered.
"Hang on," Edward said. "What kind of responsibility do we have to turn this over to the police?"
"Out of the question." Rosalie folded her arms over her chest.
"Why? We can still write the book. We won't be breaking the story, but a criminal case would still generate enough interest to help us sell copies."
"Evidence of Uncle Caius's crimes has a tendency to disappear when it's been turned over to law enforcement. Someone helped him cover it up. But if we make this a public sensation, we may be able to pressure police into acting on the information. Besides, did you notice this?" She tapped her finger on a name on the page, someone who she had noted wasn't explicitly named in an extortion case but his participation was implied. It took a moment for Edward to place the name, but then it clicked.
"State Attorney General."
She nodded.
"Christ. We can't sit on this." He ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. We have to get this book out as fast as possible."
"How long will it take?"
"A year, maybe? That's how long I worked on Chimerae with Neil." It had actually been nine months, but Neil was a ball-buster and had wanted everything to move way faster than Edward had.
Rosalie, apparently, had that in common with Neil. She was shaking her head irritably. "How do we make it go faster?"
"We bring on more people."
From her expression, he deduced that she didn't care for that idea.
"Hear me out. I worked with a woman on The Hall of Dreadful Presidents who did my backgrounds and lettering, and she cut my production time almost in half. And I can write the script, but it's not really my strength. I know a script writer or two who might be able to help."
"I'm writing the script."
Edward shook his head.
"It's not negotiable. I'm writing the script."
"Look. I'm sure you're a perfectly good writer—"
"As evidenced by my previous publishing credentials."
"Scholarly papers. Amicus briefs. Tanya sent me some of your work and you're good at what you do. But graphic novels are a whole different animal. You have to know what's being told in text and what's being told in the image. They have to work together."
"Sweetie, I learned to read with graphic novels. Don't tell me I don't know how this is done."
"But have you written one? It's not as easy as you think. Your images have to be more than just illustrations."
"Yeah, I get how this works."
"But have you done it?"
She pursed her lips. "No. I can learn, and I'm hoping you'll work with me on this."
"Or you could be less of a control freak and hire it out."
"Or you could be less of a condescending prick and accept the fact that I'm going to write the damn script."
"I'm not convinced that you're able to take feedback on what you're screwing up."
Rosalie turned a sweet smile on Alice. "Sweetie, will you tell Edward that he's being a doofus?"
Alice looked over at Edward. "You a doofus."
"Me? She's the doofus."
"No, you," Alice said with a shake of her head.
"I don't believe this. You turned my own kid against me."
The oven timer went off then, which was fortuitous. Edward and Rosalie probably both needed a minute to calm down. Edward tried not to notice Benjamin's amused smile as he dished a little of each casserole onto plates and carried them back to the table.
"No, a bo!" Alice insisted.
"Right. Sorry. Let me put it in a bowl." He fixed Alice's food and took it back to her, placing it in front of her with a spoon. "It's hot," he warned her. "Give it some time to cool."
She didn't seem worried. She was still working on her grapes and Edward wasn't sure she'd be eating anything else. But he figured he should at least give her the chance.
"Habba bib?"
"Right. Bib. Gotta protect that dress."
"Uh-huh."
He got Alice all settled and sat down to eat, very much wishing he had wine to offer with the meal instead of just water.
Or whisky. He really wouldn't mind a little whisky.
"Okay, listen," he said, jabbing at his potatoes with a fork. "How about this? I'll commit to doing twenty pages with you as the scriptwriter. If, after twenty pages, we've found our rhythm and avoided bloodshed, we'll keep going. Otherwise, you have to promise to hire someone who knows how to do this."
"I accept."
Edward was a little surprised that she had agreed so readily. She must be pretty confident in her abilities. It remained to be seen whether that confidence was justified.
"But about the background artist . . ."
Rosalie didn't look happy. "You trust her?"
"Sure. I mean, we never worked with top secret documents, but I imagine she'd play by the rules."
"Who is she?"
"Her name is Esme Platt. She works with a graphic design studio in Boston, but she did Hall of Dreadful Presidents on the side. I imagine she'd do the same with this one."
"Boston." She definitely wasn't happy now.
"Yeah. I'd send her my files and we used Zoom when we had to meet. It worked pretty well."
"I don't like the idea of digital files. If even the slightest bit of information about this book leaks out, they'll find a way to shut us down."
"Look, we can put this together on paper, but eventually it has to make its way into a digital medium. There's always going to be risk; there's no such thing as an unhackable computer. The best thing we can do is encrypt the hell out of everything and then make sure we don't give anyone an excuse to look in our direction. So I gotta ask . . . who in your family knows what you have?"
"No one. They think I took a chest full of blankets. They don't know what I found in the bottom."
"You didn't tell anyone? Your mom, your sister, your best friend, your priest?"
"Your agent," she said. "She's the first person I talked to, and only after she signed the NDA."
He nodded. "Well. Bringing Esme on increases our risk of hacking but significantly shortens the timeline. I'm good either way, so it's up to you."
She was still wavering. "Do you trust her, though? Like, would you let her babysit Alice?"
That question caught him off guard. The fact was, he'd only actually been in the same room with Esme a couple of times, and the awareness of the potential for kidnapping was practically encoded into his DNA. But he'd built a relationship with her across the miles, even if most of it had been filtered through a computer screen, and yeah. He was pretty sure he trusted her.
Still . . .
"I'd give her a code to get into my house."
"Uh huh." She fixed him with a steady gaze, waiting for him to continue.
"I once left my wallet on the table with her when I went to the restroom."
"Uh huh."
She was waiting for him to say yes, but he just couldn't. "It's not her fault. I don't trust anyone with Alice. I don't even trust me with Alice. Maybe I'll get there eventually, but I've been her legal guardian for about three hours and I'm pretty sure that paranoia is the first stage of parenting. When I get past that stage, yeah, Esme would probably be on the very short list of people I'd be cool leaving Alice with."
Rosalie broke out into a grin. "I'll take it. Will you see if she's interested? But don't give her any details until she signs an NDA and sends it to me. I'll email you a copy."
"Fair enough." Edward glanced down at the list in front of him again and froze. His eyes had found a name that he'd missed before. James Spaight II was implicated in an embezzlement scheme and a solicitation event, according to Rosalie's notes. "Shit."
"What?"
"This guy." He tapped the paper. "I might have a conflict of interest?"
Her eyes went hard as steel. "You might?"
"It's just . . . I know his grandson."
Her expression made him wonder briefly if he should fear for his life, and that made him defensive. "Look," he snapped, "you picked me because I run in these circles, right? You didn't consider the possibility that I might have a connection or two to the people you want to put in jail?"
Her voice came out terse and clipped. "Is this going to be a problem?"
"I don't know. Hang on a minute."
"Why?"
"I need to check the alignment of my moral code."
But his thoughts were a jumble and he needed to say them out loud, so he turned to Alice. She had a smear of something creamy on her cheek, so it seemed like she'd actually eaten some casserole while he'd been otherwise occupied.
"Hey, kid, you remember when we went to Olympia?"
"Uh-huh. Yimpia. Pity jwess inna dobij."
"Right. I'm very, very sorry that I threw your dress away. But do you remember when we went to my apartment and we met James? The one who yelled a lot?" He'd actually kind of forgotten about James being an obnoxious little fuck until he was trying to explain who he was to Alice.
"James mean."
"Yeah. I mean, he's not usually, but . . ." But he'd been planning to try to trap some unsuspecting woman into a naked dinner at his apartment, and Edward very much didn't like the picture that he'd be painting of James if he said that out loud. "Okay, sometimes he's mean. But sometimes he's nice, too, and he buys me really good wine."
Yeah, Rosalie wasn't impressed. Whatever. This wasn't about her.
But Edward himself was less and less impressed the more he talked about it. How much did loyalty matter to him? It had seemed so important in high school. No self-respecting teenager would rat out a friend who sold Ritalin and Oxy in the bathroom, and at any given time at least a third of his classmates had had weed stashed in their lockers. You didn't say anything about that shit. There was a code.
Which was excellent training for a future in dirty politics. It was exactly that kind of silence that allowed corruption to fester in government, to the detriment of the general population. If Edward kept silent out of his loyalty to James, was he any better than Caius Christopher's shady-ass cronies?
It was almost beside the point that James was really only Edward's friend because they were neighbors. He'd never set out to befriend the man. He'd just sort of accepted it when James had latched onto him.
So. Well. That was that.
"I'm in," he told Rosalie.
"You're not fucking telling him about this," she said with a growl.
"No. In fact . . ." He swallowed hard. This was a serious fucking concession and he wasn't excited to make it, but it was probably necessary. "In fact, I'd better not go back to Olympia until this book is done. I wouldn't want him dropping by and seeing something he shouldn't."
"You're close enough that he drops by?" she asked, still clearly not convinced that Edward was on board.
"He lives next door and he barely knows how to tie his own shoes. He comes over a lot."
"And this is your friend?"
"I mean . . . not after this book. But don't sweat it; there's not a lot of love lost there. He's just . . . this guy who's always around and who might just burn down my apartment when we publish."
Her eyebrows drifted slowly upward.
"It's fine. I have insurance."
"I may have made a mistake. Let's just call the whole thing off."
"After all the time you've invested here?" Benjamin asked, speaking up for the first time in a while. He'd been typing furiously on the phone, and Edward suspected he'd been taking notes on their meeting. "Rosalie, you don't have anything to worry about. Edward isn't going to break your agreement. Can't you see that gleam he gets in his eyes when he looks at your notes?"
Edward smirked. "Who doesn't like stirring shit up every now and then? You're going to make a full-blown muckraker out of me, and that's kind of exciting."
"Twenty pages," she said through tight lips. "And if I'm uncomfortable with how friendly you are with the enemy, I'm pulling the plug."
"I accept. I'll see if we can get Esme on board while you start outlining the narrative."
"That part's done," she said, and pulled a folder out of her bag.
"Oh, hell yes. We're going to hit the ground running. Let me see."
Benjamin excused himself shortly after that. The negotiations were finished and their conversation turned to art and story development, so he figured he was no longer needed. At some point the sketch pads came out and some very rough doodles got started, which Alice insisted on being a part of. Edward got her some paper and crayons, and the three of them sat at the table and created pretty pictures together. Edward was glad to find that Rosalie was really good about taking time here and there to talk to Alice about her drawings. Alice loved feeling included, and even though she was mostly just scribbling on a paper, Rosalie talked to her very seriously about her color choices and line angles.
By the time they called it a night, Alice was starting to droop in her high chair and Edward was feeling really optimistic about the project. He and Rosalie tended to bicker a lot, but it was the kind of bickering he could manage. It wasn't like working with Neil, where he was hyper-aware of the fact that he was the less-talented person in the room and every criticism cut deep enough to bleed. He and Rosalie could snipe at each other without doing any real damage, and he found the whole thing highly entertaining.
Alice liked her, too. She gave "Wose" one of her pictures and hugged her goodbye when she left. Edward was glad about that. Rosalie would probably be around a lot over the next few months, so it was good that Alice was getting comfortable with her.
"Months," he muttered to himself as he packed up Alice's crayons. "Did you hear that? I committed to staying in the armpit of Washington for months."
"Munce?"
"Yeah. What was I thinking?"
"Feen-teen?"
"You're right. I wasn't thinking. I opened my mouth and these words just came out, but I didn't even mean them. And now I'm trapped."
"Chwapped?"
He grinned down at her and carried her over to the rocking chair. "Well, we'd better make the best of it. You want to help me call Esme?"
"Muzmay?"
"Close enough." He was scrolling through his contacts list for her number, but his phone started ringing before he could find it. He smiled when Tori's name popped up and he brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, baby."
"I guess you're not mad at me, then."
He frowned. "Mad at you?" He dodged Alice's grabbing hand and leaned away so she couldn't reach the phone. "Why would I be?"
"I couldn't think of a reason. And yet, you left my birthday dinner before we even ordered, you didn't send me the present you promised me, and then the podcast episode dropped yesterday and I never saw a comment from you. So I went to your place to see if you were okay and my code didn't let me in."
"Alice, stop it," Edward muttered. She was trying to wriggle out of his grasp to reach his phone.
"Who's Alice?" She sounded like she was losing patience, and Edward knew better than to let that happen.
"Um. Look. I'm sorry, Tori, I'm a horrible friend. But you're going to forgive me when you find out why, I promise."
"Am I?" Edward was relieved to hear that her tone was lightening. "Okay, then. Convince me."
"Mind if I turn on video?"
"Sure."
"Okay, Alice, chill." She was still trying to get at the phone, so he turned the screen toward her. "Touch this button right here."
Appeased by being offered what she wanted, Alice tapped the screen where he pointed and turned on the video. Victoria came into view, all sleek red hair and apple cheeks, and just seeing her made Edward smile. But when she saw Alice on her screen, she cocked her head in confusion.
"Tori, this is Alice," Edward said.
"Diss Awiss," she parroted. "Diss Uh-wud."
"Awww, what a cute baby!"
"No! A-notta beebee! Diss yun yaidy."
"Right. She's a young lady, and she's my sister."
"A-sissoo," Alice agreed.
"Um. How did I not know you had a sister?"
"More to the point, how did I not know I had a sister?"
She blinked in surprise. "You didn't know"
"I didn't. But now I do, because my dad died and I'm raising her."
"Whoa. Edward, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah. It's a lot. And I'm sorry I kind of forgot about you for a few days, but I've been doing this, so I hope you can understand."
"Hassum chwans," Alice said. "A-jwah."
"What's she saying?"
"I haven't a clue," Edward said. "That's true most of the time, actually."
"Huh. Hey, would this have something to do with why James sent me a text saying that you were going to make the apartment building unlivable?"
"Yeah. I took Alice back there to pick up some clothes and now he thinks I'm moving her in."
"Excuse me," she said, suddenly all business. "Excuse me. You told Jimmy about her before you told me?"
"I didn't tell him. He showed up, and I failed to push him out a window."
She snickered. "Are you mad at him?"
"A little. He was mean to Alice."
"James mean," Alice agreed, and Edward was once again surprised that she was following the conversation.
"Awww, did he upset you?" Victoria asked.
"Uh-huh. Uss yo-ween."
Victoria looked as puzzled as Edward was, so he changed the subject.
"Anyway, it looks like I'm going to be here for a few months."
"Months? Why?"
"Estate stuff," he said, because he had to keep mum about the graphic novel. "Plus, Alice's therapist says we should make changes gradually, so I want her to get used to me before we move to a whole new city."
"City?" Alice asked.
"Yep. We're going to move to Olympia."
"A-yimpia? See Uh-wud?"
Well. That was a strike against her perception. Here he thought she had figured out who he was.
"I'm Edward. Remember?"
"Uh-huh."
He shrugged and shook his head at Victoria. "I have no idea how much she understands."
"Right. But you're going to listen to my podcast eventually, right?"
"Tomorrow, I promise. I'll have time to listen while Alice is at day care."
She pouted. "Not tonight after she goes to bed?"
"No!" Alice said. "I nah seepy!"
"I'm afraid not. The kid gets up before dawn. When she goes to bed, I go to bed."
"Wow." She laughed. "That's a little sad."
"It's true. Over the last four days I've turned into an adult."
"Tragic. I, however, have not. So I'm going to go out, get wasted, and find me a little snack. Shame you can't come along."
He laughed and shook his head. "Have fun. And don't get so drunk that you won't remember the details later. I have to live vicariously through you now."
Victoria said goodbye and Alice returned her farewell with an energetic wave. Edward disconnected and then checked the time. Add three hours for time zone shifts and . . . yeah, it was pretty late in Boston. Still, he thought he'd test the waters. He tapped out a quick "U up?" with a winky emoji and sent it off to Esme.
A moment later he got a reply: "I'm up, but the booty call is going to have to wait until after I've finished plotting the murders of everyone I work with."
He grinned. "She's feeling feisty tonight," he told Alice. "Here, push that button."
Alice pushed the call button and Esme picked up the phone. Without even saying hello, she launched into a string of profanity that, truth be told, impressed the hell out of Edward.
"Hi, Esme," he said when she ran out of steam. "By the way, my two-year-old sister is on the phone with us."
There was a moment of silence before she replied, "Oh, crap!"
"Hi!" Alice said. "Diss Awiss."
"Hi, Alice . . ." The dry, throaty voice that Edward had become so fond of sounded uncertain now.
Edward laughed out loud to show her that he wasn't upset. "Sorry to blindside you. Alice doesn't like it when I talk on the phone without including her."
"That's adorable," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
"Hassum wapes?" Alice asked her.
"I don't think Esme has any grapes," Edward said, but Esme laughed.
"No whole grapes, but I'm halfway through a bottle of grown-up grape juice."
"You want to tell me what's going on?" Edward asked. "I'm happy to listen if you need to vent."
She took him up on his offer and spent the next few minutes raging about the misogyny that she dealt with at work on a daily basis and how the award-winning work she'd done on her latest project had somehow gotten a colleague promoted over her.
"I have to quit," she told him. "I have to quit before these people drive me to violence."
"Why haven't you?"
She sighed. "I'm scared. I don't want to lose my income before I've got something lined up, and I'm afraid to move to a place where I don't know anybody, and I'm feeling paranoid and helpless and stuck, and I need more wine."
"You know what?" Edward said. "I might be able to help you with this."
"Seriously? Do you have a thing?"
"I have a thing. Or someone has a thing that I'm doing, and I'd love to bring you on board. I probably can't match what you're making at Bros and Co., but if you're serious about moving, I could give you a place to crash until you've lined up a new job."
She let out a harsh laugh. "You're going to want to be careful about offering that stuff to me right now. I'm feeling crazy enough to actually say yes."
"I'm serious," he said. "My place in Olympia is going to be empty for a few months. If you're really thinking about giving up your apartment, do it. Camp out at my place rent free, work with me on this graphic novel we're putting together, and let me be your safety net while you apply for new jobs."
"And just to reiterate, you're planning to pay me? This isn't just a royalties gig?"
"Sure. Let's figure the same as last time plus twenty percent for inflation and bullshit. We still need to have the royalties conversation with Rose, but I think you can probably figure on getting some eventually." It was maybe overly generous of him to pay her a salary when he wasn't making one, but that was one of the perks of suddenly being a billionaire, wasn't it? Anyway, he really liked Esme. He didn't want to see her poisoned by a toxic work environment.
"I'm damn close to a yes. What are we doing?"
"Um. I can't tell you."
There was a long pause. "This feels like where I should hang up on you."
Edward chuckled. "I hear you. Hang on, I'm forwarding you a nondisclosure agreement. If you sign that and send it back to the person who sent it to me, I can tell you more."
"Yeah . . . this feels weird. Is this something I want to be involved in?"
Alice had leaned her head against Edward's chest and he shifted her up higher so she could lay on his shoulder. "It's not without some risk, but I'm excited about it."
"What kind of risk?"
"I mean. I'm not going to stop buying green bananas."
"Will I end up cursing your name and wishing I were back here at Misogyny Central?"
"That seems unlikely."
"I just got the email. Who's Rosalie Hale?"
"A pain in the ass, but I think you'll like her. Takes no shit, offers no mercy."
"Give me a minute."
Edward did. He whistled the Jeopardy theme, eliciting a laugh, but let her mull things over.
"Okay, listen," she finally said. "I've got some vacation coming up and I don't think anyone's going to mind if I take it right now, while I'm in the mood to set the place on fire. I'll come out to see you, we'll discuss the project, and if it looks good I might just let you talk me into taking advantage of you."
"Excellent. I'll make up the guest room for you." Except he was sleeping in the guest room, and that meant he would have to clean out his father's room and take up residence there. That felt . . . big. Too big. Like a violation and a declaration and a whole mess of expectation. Edward wasn't exactly eager to step into a pair of dead man's boots, and moving into Ted's bedroom felt like doing exactly that.
But it was just a room. There was a bed and a closet and even a master bathroom. It was nicer than this room and it was impractical not to use it. He'd give it to Esme if that didn't feel weird, but it did. Like he was working too hard to avoid the thing that he, yes, was avoiding.
But that was a problem for tomorrow. Esme was agreeing and promising to sign the NDA, so he said an affectionate goodbye and hung up the phone.
Alice was warm and limp against him, and when he craned his neck to get a look at her face, he was pleased to see that she had fallen asleep. He rocked her for a few minutes more, just to make sure she wouldn't wake up, then he carried her to her bed and tucked her in with a soft kiss to her smooth baby cheek.
He headed for the guest room and stripped out of his clothes, looking forward to getting some rest. As he prepared himself for bed, though, he did a little shopping on his phone. He ordered an emerald necklace for Tori, and then his fingers wandered toward office equipment. If he was going to do an entire graphic novel from this house, he was going to need the right furniture. He gave a moment's thought to returning to Olympia to collect his drawing table, but the prospect made him shudder. A certain diaper situation may have crossed his mind, and anyway, the room needed more of an overhaul than just a new desk. He wandered, pajama-clad, out to the office to look things over, and before he knew it he was measuring walls and placing orders.
He was going big. This office was going to be a treat to work in. He ordered two drafting desks, just in case Esme wanted to work on one, and then requested a custom job on a desk that would line the entire back wall of the room. There he would put two computers at each end, one for Rosalie, one for Esme. He preferred to use his tablet for what digital work he did, but his fingers were itching for the tactile pleasure of creating with non-photo blue pencils and bold brush pens.
Speaking of which, he hadn't brought even close to all of the art supplies he would need. He loaded up his digital cart with the tools he would want, and then added a cabinet to store them. The current file cabinets would have to be moved to the master bedroom and Alice's desk could relocate to her bedroom, but his father's desk wasn't going to fit anywhere else. He jumped on another website and hired a service to come haul the desk away the following afternoon.
It wasn't until he had finished ordering all the new furniture that he wondered what Alice would think. It was a significant change, but it was just one room. Still . . . maybe he needed to do something to smooth the transition. If she had something to make her feel like a part of things . . . He smiled when he searched for toddler drafting tables and found an adorable little blue one that would fit neatly next to his. He added a bunch of new art supplies for her as well, and remembering the incident with his charcoal pencils, he made sure to select ones that were non-toxic and washable. He also got her a cabinet, a little plastic one with rounded edges and big drawers, so that she would have some storage space of her own
He'd spent a lot of money before he was done, on a room that he would only be using for a few months. It was worth it to him, though. He was going to spend many long hours in this space in the coming months, so he needed it to be comfortable and efficient.
But for now, it was time to sleep. He returned to the bedroom and crawled into bed, pulling the blanket up over himself. He was feeling happy and optimistic, so it was jarring when, just as he was letting his mind drift, a pair of judgy-ass eyes floated across his memory.
"Bella," he muttered. He'd manage to forget about her for a few hours, but now she was back again, accusing him of being a useless trust fund kid. He rolled over and pulled the blankets up higher, as though they could protect him from her low opinion of him. He didn't know why it bothered him so much that she didn't like him, but something about her really got under his skin.
He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of anything else when a high-pitched wail sounded from the room next door.
He heaved a long sigh. "Fuck."
For a few seconds he hoped that Alice would stop crying and fall asleep again, but her fussing seemed to be getting more energetic, not less. He hauled himself out of bed and went to her, picking her up when she raised her arms to him.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"Wan Daddy," she moaned.
"I hear ya. You want to come sleep with me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay. Come on."
Someday he was really going to have to break her of this habit, but . . . not tonight. It seemed like too much effort for tonight.
