Stumbling into the kitchen the next morning, I find Rose and Emmett drinking coffee at their kitchen table. "Pot's fresh," Emmett tells me as I manage to grab a mug and pour myself a cup of ambition. Maybe Dolly Parton was right.
"Did you two have a nice evening?" I ask after I sit down and grab a portion of the Sunday paper.
"Thank you for the mac and cheese, even if there aren't any leftovers," Rose tells me with a grin. "And how was your evening?" She bats her eyes at me, daring me to take the bait.
"Fine. Watched some TV, did some job searching. The usual." I shrug as she and Em share a look.
"Anything out of the ordinary happen? Something you want to share with us?" Emmett asks, and I know I'm not getting out of this conversation without giving them something.
"What do you want to know?" I roll my eyes and shove the paper away.
The two of them share a look and sigh, heavily. "All right, fine. I talked to someone last night, and I had a good time. We're meeting for dinner tonight."
After a barrage of twenty questions like "What does he do?" "Where does he live?" "How long did you two talk?" "Did you send dirty pictures?" (Thank you, Emmett.) I tell them the basics about our conversation and how he wants to meet so we can discuss the type of relationship he wants. Then Rose hits me with the big question. "So, how old is he?"
"I already know you're going to freak out, so just promise you won't freak out on me, okay?" I eye her over the table top as her eye twitches and she gulps.
"I promise."
"He's … older." It's a cop out that I know is only buying me mere moments. Rose waves her hand in a "get on with it" gesture. "He's 42." I stand quickly to pour another cup of coffee as Rose quietly excuses herself from the table.
Emmett and I share a look across the kitchen when we hear the distinct sound of muffled screaming. "At least, she's not freaking out on you, just a pillow. So, who is this guy?"
"His name is Edward, and I already told you he's in publishing." I roll my eyes, leaning against the counter.
"Great. What kind of publishing? Books?" Emmett folds the paper, crossing his arms and staring at me.
"Uh no. He owns a magazine." I swiftly move the coffee mug to my lips to avoid the next question, but Emmett has more patience than I give him credit for.
"What magazine? Have I heard of it?" He's looking at me suspiciously, and I shrug.
"Maybe?" I know he has a subscription; he has had for the last four years. "It's, uh, Real Men."
I watch as the realization dawns across his face and jumps up and runs into the living room. He's just sliding back in when Rose shuffles back in with a red face and sits down. "Where were we?" She smiles, and I shake my head.
"This guy? Bella, is this the guy?" Emmett flips to the back of the magazine to the "Letter from the Editor" page. There's a picture of Edward Cullen on a sailboat, dressed like a super-casual, super-rich man, with a glass of champagne in one hand and the sea air tousling his hair.
Rose and Emmett both look up at me, and I nod shyly. "Uh, yeah. I guess so." Emmett sits down, muttering under his breath, and Rose's eyes go wide.
"I don't like it," Emmett says finally. "We'll go with you. This guy could just be using Edward Cullen's name and picture to trick you."
"Which is why I'm picking the place and going by myself and not letting him take me to a secondary location. I'm not an idiot, Em." I huff and look to Rose for backup.
"He doesn't think you're an idiot, Bella. Of course, you can go on your own. But what if it's not him? Or what if he just wants like a fuck buddy or something? Is that something you can really do?" I know Rose is just looking out for me, but it's coming off a little condescending.
"I'm honestly not looking for anything huge right now. Something casual and uncomplicated sounds kind of great. He's admitted he's a workaholic, and I can just imagine the relief of not having to go out after a long day," I explain and even I can hear the rationalization in my tone. The truth is that I don't know how I'll feel until after I meet him.
"Worst case, it isn't him, and I leave or I get stood up at a fancy restaurant where they comp me a glass of wine and dessert because they feel bad for me. Best case, he shows up, we have a wonderful time together and see what happens." I turn my full attention to Rose. "Now, are you going to help me pick out what to wear or are you going to scream into your pillow again?"
Rose is pulling dresses out of her closet while I text Edward. I haven't decided on a place mostly because I'm not really sure if I should go big or modest. When I tell him I don't have anywhere in particular in mind, he asks if I'm comfortable with him choosing the restaurant. I agree and tell him that I'm not used to going out to eat unless it's grabbing fast food or some take out.
Edward: Baby, you better get used to going out more. I like to live, and I love a good meal. Do you have any dietary preferences?
Bella: Maybe I'll cook for you someday soon. I'm actually a pretty adventurous eater, no allergies either.
Edward: I love to hear that you're adventurous.
I tell him to let me know where and what time while I attempt to make myself beautiful enough for tonight. Edward doesn't reply immediately, and I turn to see Rose standing in the doorway with an armful of clothes.
"I'm taller, but we're built the same, and we're the same size. Everything should fit; it might just be longer on you. Did you pick a place yet?" Before I can answer her, my phone chimes with a new text.
Edward: The Butcher's Table, 7pm. Bella, you could show up in a paper sack and you'd blow me away with your beauty. I can't wait to meet you.
My heart flutters and when I show Rose the text she sighs. "Damn, either he's good or he's got it bad for you. Did you already give him a sneak peek?" I laugh as she starts pulling dresses from the pile she's made on my bed.
We have a late morning 80s movie montage of me trying on dresses and Rose vetoing all of them until I finally pick up a cobalt blue bodycon with long sleeves, a deep V in the front, and ruching around the waist. My chest doesn't fill it out as amply as Rose's does, but when I turn from the mirror hanging behind the door to see Rose with a huge grin, I know this is the dress.
As she puts her closet back to rights, I pull out my shoes, and I know I'll have to borrow a purse from Rose because I don't own a clutch. She comes back in with a beautiful acrylic purse that's covered in large pieces of blue confetti with a gold chain as the strap. It's the perfect match for an added pop of color and vibrancy.
"How do your feet look?" Rose asks me as I hold up the two show options.
"I mean, they're fine, but maybe not open-toe shoes fine." I grimace and toss the sandals back into the closet.
"We have some time. Take a shower and I'll throw some lunch together for us, and then we'll get you ready." Rose gives a wink before moving to head out into the kitchen.
"Hey, Rose?" I call after her; she turns with a curious smile on her face. "I'm not crazy, right?"
She shrugs. "Do you want my professional opinion?"
I nod, laughing.
"Go and have a good time. If you click, then have some fun. If you don't, you'll be up front about it. He couldn't do any better than you, Bella Swan. You're a treasure." Rose crosses the room to hug me tightly, and I feel tears prick my eyes.
"Thank you for always being my best friend and telling me what I need to hear," I whisper before letting her go.
"I got you girl." She winks and sails out of the room.
Glancing at the time on my phone, I sigh. I have over five hours to panic; better get it all out now.
Sitting in the back of my Uber, I'm seriously wondering what the hell I'm doing. I know virtually nothing about Edward, if it's even him that I'm about to meet. The driver is a nice older man who seems to notice that I'm nervous.
"Going on a date?" He's glancing at me in the rearview mirror, and I chuckle.
"Yeah." I nod. "I met him online. I'm worried he won't be who I think he is."
He nods as he turns onto Westlake Avenue. "You ever meet anyone off the internet before?"
I laugh. "Just Uber drivers and food delivery people." He laughs, and as we pull up in front of the restaurant, he hands me a business card before I climb out.
"I've got kids a little younger than you. I'd want someone to watch out for them. You need a ride, you call me. I'll come pick you up, no questions asked." He smiles kindly, and I read the card.
My name is Jason Jenks, and I'm a safe person. If you ever need a safe ride after a night out, please call me.
"This is by far the kindest thing I've seen in a long time, Mr. Jenks." I pat his shoulder and climb out of his backseat. Leaning down into the door, I smile. "I promise to call if I need a safe ride. Thank you."
"Have a good time, dear. Good luck." He winks as I shut the door and doesn't drive off until I'm safely on the sidewalk. Tucking the card into my purse, I take in the restaurant looming in front of me.
It takes up the entire corner lot, black painted brick and dark oak doors give it the hipster vibe that is so prevalent in Seattle now. A large garage-style door opens up to the street, and I can see groups sitting at communal tables, and I wonder if Edward and I will be sitting at one of those given the last minute nature of our dinner.
When I walk in, I have to wait behind a large group that's trying to get on the waitlist, and I see that the restaurant has an actual butcher counter with all their cuts available. I'm trying to read the menu from my place in line when the host asks how he can help me.
"I'm afraid I'm early," I say. It's a habit of mine, but if I'm going to be stood up, I want to be early. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone here. Edward Cullen?"
I watch as the host's eyes go wide for just a moment, and then he smiles. "Of course, Miss Swan. If you'll follow me upstairs to the Norwegian Room." He leads me up a short flight of stairs, and I'm grateful it isn't any longer because I don't think I could take any more in these heels.
As we walk through the private upstairs, I pass by glass cases on shelves full of antique wine and photos; mementos of a past life. Just as we're approaching what I can tell is a full bar, the host stops on his tracks.
"Mr. Cullen." He clears his throat. "Miss Swan has arrived." He steps to the side, and in the golden light emanating from the bar, I see Edward Cullen leaning against the bar in a perfectly crisp gray suit, hair perfectly in place, and a brilliant smile on his face. I watch as he pushes himself off of the bar and steps forward.
"Bella, it's lovely to meet you. I'm Edward." He reaches for my hand, and I offer it to shake, but he surprises me by kissing the inside of my wrist. "Would you like a drink before we sit down?"
I glance over at the bar, surprised to see a bartender standing there ready and waiting. "Sure." I gulp, and suddenly, I have no idea what I like to drink anymore. "I'll have whatever you're having."
He raises an eyebrow good naturedly before asking for a second of whatever he's got. I can barely pay attention to what's going on around me. I'm absolutely captivated by him. He's so effortlessly confident and cool. He looks exactly like the pictures on his profile and the ones I found online.
But I'm still so confused about how I met him on a dating app and why. He's like Uncle Jesse from Full House, cool and sexy. There is no way that he can't find some kind of casual arrangement on his own.
When the bartender sets my glass down in front of me, all I see is amber liquid, and I worry I've set myself up for failure, but as Edward brings his own glass over to clink against mine, I realize I don't care. "To … us," he offers, and I smile.
"To us." I take a sip from my glass and find the smoothest alcohol I've ever tasted. "I'm sorry, is this scotch?"
"It is. Do you like it?" Edward asks with a wry smile as he leads me away from the bar, his hand on the small of my back.
"Apparently, I do." He leads us into the open space, and I can see the appeal of the private area. "It's lovely up here. Where are we eating dinner?" All I see are small cocktail tables.
"We have a private dining room. This is actually a private lounge. I reserved both for us tonight so we wouldn't be bothered by other diners." He points just past my right shoulder, and when I turn to look, I see our dining room.
"Should we go ahead and sit down? Or did you want to talk before dinner?" I'm nervous. Taking a larger sip than I intend of the scotch, Edward chuckles.
"Why don't we sit, and we can discuss everything over dinner. I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me." His hand drifts to the small of my back once again as he leads me into the room before he pulls out my chair for me and helps me to sit.
"That's the first time anyone has done that since my father when I was a kid." I say with a small laugh.
He grins. "Isn't that the point? I take care of you and you take care of me?"
Leaning back in my chair, I study his face. His expression is so open and inviting. He knows I have questions, and he's willing to answer them for me. Just as I'm about to ask my first of many questions, our waiter arrives.
"My name is Maggie, and I'll be your server this evening. Have you both dined with us before?" She hands us menus, and I shake my head as Edward answers in the affirmative.
"Wonderful. If you have any questions about the menu, I'll be happy to answer them. I'll give you a few moments to look it over. Can I get you anything else to drink?" Maggie looks at Edward and me.
"Water for both of us and a bottle of the 2017 Kosta Browne Pinot Noir. Thank you." Maggie leaves us while I focus on the menu and not the fact that Edward just ordered us an almost three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine.
"So, what would you recommend?" I ask, setting the menu aside and looking at Edward.
"What do you like?" His forearms are leaning against the table, his green eyes staring directly into mine.
"Everything. Like I said, I'm pretty adventurous. But, no oysters." I laugh. "I have to draw the line somewhere."
Edward smiles, reaching for his scotch. "Boundaries are always helpful. Would you trust me to order for you?"
I consider it for a moment. It takes away a small amount of my autonomy, but it's one meal. "You won't always try to order for me, will you?"
"Not at all. Unless we're someplace you've never been, or I'm picking up food for you and I know your preferences. I want you to be fully in control of yourself when you're with me."
The way he's phrased it doesn't sit quite right, but I'll be sure to ask about it during the meal. I agree, and when Maggie returns with our water and wine, Edward orders for us both. There's a little bit of everything, and I'm excited and starving. I only had a light lunch with Rose and that was basically just a charcuterie board.
As Maggie disappears once again, Edward leans back in his chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't tell you earlier how lovely you look tonight."
Heat rises in my cheeks. "Well, it's no paper sack, but it'll do."
His laugh is hearty and genuine; I feel like I've won the lottery when I hear it. "I like a witty woman, Bella. That's one thing I'm looking for in the right baby, the right partner."
"Okay, I do have a million questions, but I think my most important one right off the bat is why you keep insisting on calling me 'baby'? I don't get it. I mean, pet names are cute, but this is literally the first time we're meeting. You used it all last night too. What's the deal?" I look at him, expectantly waiting for the answer.
Edward's expression turns to confusion quickly. "I thought it would be obvious based on the app we met on."
"What are you talking about?"
"Bella, you matched with me on Searching. It's an app for Sugar Babies and Sugar Daddies to meet," Edward whispers to me just as Maggie walks in with our appetizers. Suddenly, I'm no longer hungry.