..::.. Chapter 53 - Blue Collar ..::..

"Yes!" Sue says delightfully. She stands back after adjusting and re-adjusting some more. "Wear it out for the rest of the day," she says about the new outfit she made me try on.

"What? No! Are you crazy?" I turn this way, that way, in front of the mirror anyway. New pant suit from her shop racks. "The clothes from last week were too much. That beige coat was more than enough!" I exclaim. She chuckles, fists under her chin. I pull on the sheer, blush button up underneath.

"Stop it. Nothing will show," she says, swatting at my hands about my boobs. "Barely much there anyway." She murmurs that part. I'm insulted, but really, she's not wrong. The 'girls' stay put beneath the suit jacket.

"Claire, doesn't it look great on her?"

Urgh, that girl. I roll my eyes as Claire rolls hers. Still the same pretentious twat that she is at the front desk.

"Horrible," Claire says. "A shock to fashion."

I smile. "So, it does look great," I say, taking a wide stance. Because if it annoys her, then it's perfect. "Fine. I'll keep it." Sue laughs. "If you insist. How much do I owe ya? And don't say …"

"Zero!" she shouts. I sigh.

Claire slams a cabinet shut and walks off to lunch. As she turns to step out, a slight smirk appears on her lips.

"Bitch," she mouths.

I blow a kiss.

We've settled on common ground. I give her some of my outfits after I've worn them, and she leaves me the fuck alone. We're the same size so it works. But really, I think Edward Cullen Jr. scared her that day months back when he came barging in here looking for me. Claire asked me the other day if I was all right, straight faced, with worry. I knew what she meant and appreciated her concern, woman to woman, animosity aside. There's this understanding now. I told her someday I would be. I'm holding on to that.

"You'll go bankrupt with me," I tell Sue, as I slip on the shoes I came with; nude pumps matching the ivory, crisp suit.

"You need it working for that man. God knows you need it."

"Awesome. Thanks." It means I was dressing horribly before.

"Here's another in emerald green." She hands me a hanger bag. I gasp. "Just use the pointed black shoes when you wear it."

"Well, I never …" I exclaim, as I hang it by my chair. I can't protest much. Everything she makes is gorgeous.

We sit at the sitting area she keeps for clientele, where we have our lunch and chat. All week, I've watched her blissfully speak of her new boutique opening next spring. I smile in all the right places, but there are knives inside me, knowing she's a marionette being held by Cullen's hands. I think of her papers. I think of Stephen and my significant demand.

"Sue, I have to tell you something." Sue rubs her fingers together to rid the crumbs of a pastry I thought I'd treat her with. A linen napkin is folded over her full, tulle skirt, white, crisp button-up pressed perfectly with collars up, framing her sharp jaw under red lips. She chews gracefully and sips from the porcelain tea set she keeps for herself.

"Anything, Darling." She looks up and smiles warmly. Her bangle bracelets pile up with noise between us. "Is it Mr. Cullen? Did he propose yet?"

I laugh. Well, she's not too far off. I bet he'd be willing, at any moment, audaciously.

"Stop it, crazy lady." She chuckles as she pulls a few of the bangles from her wrist and takes mine. She twirls them on and hums satisfied.

"I … don't want you to be unaware. You're not Dad. You grasp things."

"Okay," she says and pushes my bangs behind my ear.

"I don't want to be alone in this anymore."

Her brows knit. The perceptive Sue focuses on my eyes. "Oh, this is bad," she says. She looks around. "Should we …?" She motions for us to step into a more private room. I shake my head and hold her hand.

"That paperwork you signed to expand the shop …"

Sue gasps softly. Her eyes widen. She brings a hand to her throat. "Oh, I knew it. I had a deep aching feeling." I pause, watching her face ashen.

"I'm sorry," I tell her.

She cuts her eyes to me. "What's wrong with the papers? How do you know?"

I breathe. "Well, let's just say, if it were up to Edward, I'd have the rights to your brand by way of marriage." I cringe looking at her reaction.

Her face falls. Sue cries behind her hands.

"Shh. I'm fixing it. Trust me. I'll make it right," I whisper, rubbing her back. She knows what the Cullens do. It's not a mystery in this city. Her breath staggers as she dabs her eyes with the linen. "It's because of me. It's to hurt me. It's not you."

"You honestly think I'm crying for this shop? Bella, you're in danger! They will kill you if you try."

"They will sell your name to the next bidder if I don't."

She's shaking her head. "It's not worth it. It's just a name. Don't you dare intervene. I'll figure something out. I'll .. call my lawyer."

"Sue Clearwater will no longer be Sue Clearwater. You understand?"

"Clearwater is just my mother's family name. They can take it! But they can't take the history and my ideas."

"They can do whatever they want with you, sell whatever they want under your brand. You don't get it."

"I get it!" she whispers a shout. "But I'll lose you."

I don't speak. That takes me. She downs her glass of wine in one go.

"Still want me to marry him? Hah." I chuckle nervously. She's fidgeting but laughs in disbelief, mind elsewhere.

"Bella," She says, looking at me. "Why do you say it's your fault? What's really going on?"

I stare at her. Could I really explain it all? The less she knows the better. She's a target. I shake my head and give her a broken smile. Suddenly, I feel like tears will come. Like a mother, reading a child's expression knowingly, Sue straightens her spine.

"I … I can't," I manage to say. She pulls on a droplet under my eye about to make its way. I take a breath. "Anyway, It's not Edward who wants to ruin you, it's his uncles. They're just using it as collateral, that's all. Safeguarding themselves, him from me. They don't trust anyone. It's just precaution."

She watches me. "No, it isn't." She smiles. I smile with her.

I sigh big. "Oh, Sue. The story is so long, I wouldn't know where to start. How does one begin to explain the connections even before Mom died?" Sue is dumbfounded. "I didn't just meet Edward, Sue. I've known Edward. I grew up with Edward. I was … in love with Edward once." I chuckle, rubbing my neck in discomfort. "He was my first … everything. But I forgot it all."

She grins about the romantic aspect, but she contextualizes the latter. "Your accident?" She guesses. That's the story she knows. I watch her. "Not an accident," she clarifies, shaking her head. "Your mother?" She tries again. Realization drops on her like a bomb. "Your … mother." Her lips tremble. I smile sadly. "And it was them …" She gasps. "Him?"

"No!" I rush to say. "No. Someone else. He doesn't know. Dad doesn't know either. I have to tell him first." She sighs with relief, but is even more stumped. "You think I'd let Edward get this close if it were him?" I laugh. "Who do you think I am?"

"Honey, he's gorgeous. I wouldn't judge." She says with a nod and a shrug. We laugh. We watch one another with this weighing sadness.

"I wish I could tell you everything."

She shakes her head. "I don't think you need to. I'm stitching the pieces up like a hem."

"Just promise me you won't … go looking for me if I don't show up here when I say I will."

"Bella …" she warns.

I wink. "I'll be just fine. I'm .. playing this the best way I can, with help."

Sue zips up her lips like she won't ask. "We'll … talk to your father. You can tell him everything." I nod. I have to face that. She looks up beyond the windows. "But for now, maybe you should be honest with someone else who could possibly help you. He has leverage, after all." She stands and welcomes said person at the door.

My breath is caught when I catch Edward's eyes over her shoulder. She kisses both his cheeks. He smiles down at her, but his eyes flicker back to me; head to shoes on my feet.

"I see you've followed through with our deal," he says to Sue. She stands by him and they both regard me. He catches my hand and pulls me up from the sofa. A kiss on my knuckles.

"A deal?" I ask.

Sue wraps the borrowed coat over my shoulders and hands me my purse. Not borrowed, purchased, apparently.

"She looks divine, doesn't she?" she asks him.

"Exceptionally." My eyes narrow as his trails over me. "From rags to riches. Just for my girl."

"Hm." I scoff. He's been dressing me through Sue. "A raise. Finally," is all I say, accepting. "To what do I owe this visit?" I ask. He presses himself to me, flicking back the hair around my face with fingertips. He trails my neck.

"I could devour you this second." His eyes go a bit brighter. His hair is clean, cut, and back to his natural color. He's been in town so long his cover is now permanent. I can't help but run a few fingers by his ear where the sun touches from the windows.

I nod, inhaling his scent this close. "You could, but you'd still have to answer my question."

He casually opens the lapel of my suit to take a peek through the sheer fabric. I slap his hand away. He wraps it around my waist and pulls me to the door.

"Complications," he says.

I haven't seen him in so long, but just like that, he's here. I look up at him all the way to the car. A hint of a smirk over his lip.

He likes it.

"You're gonna kiss me?" I ask when we're sitting. I know, I surprise myself as I lean an elbow on the arm rest between us, still taking him in; dark coat, dark suit, black tie, veins running up his hands beneath the cufflinks pinned to his shirt …

The car is full of … listeners. He glances at them toward the front, then at me.

"You didn't update me today," is his answer.

I recall my conversation with Sue. I haven't updated him on a lot.

"You came." I shrug.

"You didn't reply." He throws that back.

Ah. His text.

I miss you.

Loud and clear. I dab a finger over my lips and wave it at him. No kiss then. "That's not how texts work. You don't call the lady out," I say with a red cheeked grin.

He's not smiling.

"Right, Boss." I clean that up, sit up straight, and end it there.

After a long, silent drive, an airfield surrounds us. We roll right into the tarmac, cutting through the open space without a path, like one does in an empty parking lot. Such vastness really does make you want to drive in circles and zig-zag around for the ride.

I look over at Edward. He says, "Field trip", when we stop by a private plane. Now my stomach drops, because this morning I didn't expect this.

I'm leaving the city, destination unknown…

He racks his finger over my lips softly like no questions are allowed. Well, I was getting ready to ask away. The car empties, and we're alone for a few seconds. He kisses my lips, slow with greeting, and I pucker mine like they know where home is. And we're suddenly … not there; we go someplace else for a micro-moment, savoring.

I lift my ass long enough to dump it in another plush chair. The inside of the plane is light and leather, like silk and vanilla ice cream. Gold details to drill into your head that this life isn't ordinary.

"Well, well," I say. I sit across from him. His polished, red-soled shoe taps mine where he crosses his legs. "Life as Edward Cullen Jr. is lavish. I wonder where that boy I'd watch from my bedroom went. How he is. What he does."

He smirks, looking out the window. An early dinner or a late lunch is laid out in front of us the moment we're in the air.

"Still in his room, pining for a girl he must resist. Aimless, fatherless, and motherless, hoping to find home."

Like my lips to his, I guess.

I look up. That broke my heart. No joke in his words.

"Resist," I scoff. "You've never done such a thing."

He smirks, looks at me from under his lashes. "You don't know a thing."

"You must tell me, then," I insist.

"I would, but I think you would protest if I ordered the plane to make its course toward somewhere new, where no one could find us. I could tell you then."

Those feelings in me again.

"How's Alice? The boys are so big." I change the subject, my cheeks red. "I never thought she'd be a mother of four," I say before a bite of salad. He chuckles in disbelief at my blatant dismissal.

I swallow. "Not sisterless," I point out.

He gives me a look. "She's fine. Living her own life. Refusing any of the perks from her brother. Her husband accepts without her knowing. It makes them comfortable. Lots of mouths to feed."

"Yikes." About the betrayal.

"They're my nephews. I refuse to have them scrum by. He's a good guy, a carpenter, and he refuses help most of the time, anyway. But things get hard."

"How would your life have turned out if you were blue collar?" I smirk, a fun game. He matches my energy at least. I gobble it up. "Those hands of yours have never done hard labor in their life."

"Define hard labor." His brows knit in challenge.

I snort. "Fine. Nothing of the criminal type." My brows jump.

"Again. I can show you," he says, but this gleam in his eyes. Sex. That hard labor. He stares at me as he cuts a sliver of chicken and slips it through his lips. The swallow is slow, so is his thumb over his lips to get the sauce.

I roll my eyes. "Jesus. A writer, an athlete, a lawyer would have sufficed."

He waves a hand. "I was made for nothing else."

I cut my eyes to him. "No, you weren't. Your father, your grandfather made you this way." I lean in, baffled. "You're an experiment. They created a monster."

He stares. He wipes his mouth with a napkin from his lap, which lands over his plate, done.

They take the dishes away because the master is finished, even though I'm not. I hold onto mine when the blonde in a bun tries to take it. I stare her down until she backs away.

He's pouting. He's literally pouting when I look at him. I stab at my plate. I say nothing. It was honest and it was true. The skies are orange with evening looming in the distance, purple at the edges. We just watch it all pass by, like the sting of words.

"I would've built my own boat. I would've traveled through glaciers, taken photos, those gigs journalists do? I would've built a cabin in the middle of nowhere and I would have chased after our five kids. That's what I would've been—a father."

My stomach folds into knots. The lights in the plane were turned down, a glow of dim warmth is over us. The twinkle of crystal glass and the sharp scent of wine in the air, and he says those things.

"But you forgot," he adds. "And you moved on. I should've listened when you begged me to leave with you and your mother for a new life."

The wine glass at my lips is suspended there, I put it down. There's no one in sight, the help disbursed, so I chance it. I slip off this silk chair and slip onto his lap.

We both watch the skies, the light making us squint, and let our breathing even. Chest to chest.

"Even though I don't remember, I'm sure I was right, and you should have come with me and my mother."

"You were desperate, in a hospital room recovering from wounds, ready to leave me. It was like yesterday for me."

I nod. His nose dips into my chest and he closes his eyes.

"Five kids, huh?" I say watching the clouds beneath us after a long moment of quiet. Light pours in over us.

He lets out a breath slowly, like he might just laugh. All he does is creep inside my suit lapel again where he lays his cheek. I let him peek now that he's close … and melancholy. His thumb rolls over my breast through the fabric.

"It's my dream, not yours," he says.

I smile.

He touches leisurely, quietly. Then button after button of my blouse are unclasped. His lips soon on my bare breast. He pushes the sheer fabric open with knuckles and starts on the clasp of my slacks.

My eyes flutter closed, his hand delves into this immaculate suit. Bare skin down my front, free for him to wander. His cufflinks cold against my navel, fingers curling inside me. My hips agree wholeheartedly.

I let out a sigh by his ear. "You're going to make me ruin this suit. Sue will kill me."

He's determined as he lifts my leg and wedges my heel on an armrest to help him. I burst into laughter when he stuffs my dinner napkin down my pants. He looks up at me, impish, and continues ambitiously.

Here goes nothing.

I'm not laughing anymore with my head falling back. I writhe on his lap, my clothes barely on.

"I missed you, too," I whisper in his ear when I'm watching what he does, my knuckles white around his tie and I'm trying to keep quiet.

He pins those dark eyes on me, and his lip tugs at the corner.

He kisses me.

….