It's the Wednesday before Halloween, and I'm set up at Crowley's with one of the bartenders, Jessica, as she tosses bottles in the air and mixes a few cocktails for her video profile for TikTok. In between takes, we're talking about how she learned flair bartending and what her favorite drink to make is when Tyler comes out to join me at the bar.

"Bella, I was thinking," Tyler says as Jessica puts her bottles away and offers us both two of the drinks she made.

I shove mine back to her but Tyler grabs his, drinking it down in one gulp. "Slow down, man. Are you okay?"

I look at Jessica as she shrugs, leaning her forearms on the bar.

Tyler nods. "I'm fine. I was saying I think we should have a big Halloween party this Saturday."

I blink rapidly, trying to register what he just said to me. "This Saturday, as in, three days from now?"

"Yeah, what do you say?" Tyler smiles, and while I admire his eagerness and ambition, he's insane.

"I say I would love to plan a Halloween party in 2024 when I can have three months to plan it, not three days. Are you kidding me?" I can feel the frustration bubbling up inside of me. While the job has been good so far, I've seen this from my boss already; I'll suggest something with plenty of time to accomplish it, and he won't confirm in time. Or he tries to spring something on me at the last minute. I definitely can't work like this.

"So, you're telling me you can't do it?" Tyler asks, rising from his barstool next to me.

"Not only am I saying I can't do it, but I also have plans on Saturday that I had before I started working for you. I'm sorry, Tyler. I have some ideas for Thanksgiving and the Winter holidays, but it's too late for Halloween this year." I reach out to touch his arm, wanting to console him, but he walks away from me with a scoff.

Slowly, I drop my head onto the bartop, groaning.

Jessica laughs as she pokes at my hair. "Don't take it personally. Tyler has always had big ambitions, sometimes without realizing the work that's needed. What's the saying? He puts the cart before the horse."

Picking my head up, I stare at her. "How long have you worked here?"

Her cheeks flush. "A few years, but Tyler and I go way back. Um, it's not a big deal."

"Jessica, are you sleeping with the boss?" I ask, teasingly as she wipes down the bar, avoiding my gaze.

She chucks her towel at me, but I duck. "Seriously, should I be worried? Is he going to be pissed at me?"

"He'll get over it when he realizes that we aren't ready and couldn't be in this short amount of time," Jessica tells me as I climb down from my stool to grab her towel.

"Well, that's a plus because my bag is in the office, and I need to get packed up." I roll my eyes, and we both look at the small tripod and ring light I have set up.

Walking to the back of the bar, I find the office door open, but I still rap my knuckles on the door to alert Tyler to my presence. "Hey, can we talk?"

He waves me in, and I can see the stress on his face. "Come in. Have a seat."

Sitting in one of the chairs opposite his desk, I get the sense I'm about to be fired, and I feel my hackles rise. "Tyler, I love the idea of throwing a big party. It'll help bring in even more business, but if it's not done right, it could hurt the business more."

"No, I get it." He gives me a small smile. "I should have agreed to this when you brought it up in September. It still wouldn't have been enough, but it would have been better. I'm sorry."

Accepting his apology I remind him that I'll be by on Saturday for a couple hours to get some photos of patrons in their costumes. He thanks me, and then asks what my big plans are for Saturday night.

"Oh, big fancy costume party out on Mercer Island." I wave my hand, trying not to make it a big deal. "The guy I'm seeing throws one every year."

Tyler nods. "Well, that sounds fun too. If you get bored, you know where to find us."

Laughing, I grab my bag so I can pack up and head out to the island to meet Dwayne. "I'm not sure that'll happen, but I'll keep it in mind. See you Saturday."

By the time I make it out to Mercer Island and my Uber drops me off in Edward's large, circular driveway, I'm starving and excited to see all that Dwayne has accomplished in the last couple of weeks. The front door is open as delivery people and workers walk in and out, so I slip in behind one of them, looking for my new friend.

I eventually find him in the spacious backyard, with its expansive, well-manicured lawn and carefully designed patio. Dwayne is directing workers to hang up paper mache sharks, fabricated mermaid skeletons, ripped fishing nets, and buoys around the patio covering while others are strewing nets over the hedges and placing a huge treasure chest at the far end of the lawn on an oversized mound of sand. I see someone bringing in a Captain Morgan statue on a handcart, and I start laughing.

Dwayne turns around at the sound of my voice and grins. "Just wait until you see the finished product with the bubbles and lights."

He walks over to squeeze me quickly. "Mrs. Cullen and Carlisle are here." He sighs. "She comes every year to help out, and I appreciate it, but I heard about what happened, and now I'm not too pleased with her."

"I wondered what was with the formalities." I sigh, looking back at the house. "I suppose she's in the kitchen?"

He nods, and I pat his arm. "It looks great. I can't wait to see it on Saturday."

Turning, I head back into the house and straight up the stairs to locate Edward's bedroom so I can drop my bags before seeking out his mother. I follow the mental directions Edward gave me the other day and find myself in the upstairs living room between the bedroom he chose and an office he set up. Since he isn't going to be here tonight, I set my stuff in the office, knowing that none of the workers are allowed on the second floor. I can come up and grab it when I catch a ride with Dwayne back into the city.

Before I head downstairs, I stop in the bedroom to take it in. It's different from his place in town; brighter, lighter. While the office is furnished in light oak and neutral tones, the bedroom is a pale yellow … like whipped butter. The bed frame is wrought iron with a bright white duvet and blue accents scattered across the room. It has a very New England feel about it, making it somehow feel very homey.

"Do you like this room?"

I stiffen slightly when I hear Esme's voice, questioning me from behind. I don't turn, but I bring my arms up, crossing them over my chest to protect myself, my heart. "It's lovely. From what I've seen of this house, it feels very homey. It's a shame Edward doesn't get to spend more time here."

I can feel her step closer to me. "He was in the process of buying this house when he was still married. I think he wanted them to move here and start their family."

My hackles rise a little. "Like I said, it's a shame." Moving to walk past her down the stairs, she walks into the bedroom, unnecessarily fluffing pillows and smoothing the duvet.

Watching her, I see the nervous ticks in her movements; the way the muscles in her jaw tense as if she's trying to say something but can't.

"Mrs. Cullen, I was happy to meet you the other evening, but I didn't appreciate the way you spoke to me. You made me feel inferior to you and to Edward. I don't know what the future holds for the two of us, but I suspect at some point you and I will have to see each other and interact. I'd like for us to be able to do that in a polite fashion."

She stops fussing and looks over at me. "We're back to Mrs. Cullen, I see."

"If Dwayne feels that it's the appropriate response right now, then I trust him." I shrug and stare at her as she sits on the edge of the bed.

"Bella, all I want is for my son to be happy—"

"And you don't think I'm capable of making him happy?"

She shakes her head slowly. "I didn't say that. I'm sorry for my behavior the other night. I was needlessly rude, and I won't be again. Not because my son or husband gave me the what for, but because I know I was out of line."

"But I don't understand why?" Moving into the room, I sit down on the small armchair in the corner across from bed. "You had just met me, and frankly, I was on my best behavior for having no warning you were going to show up."

We both laugh a little, and she nods. "You're lovely, Bella. My worry does lie with the age difference, but it's none of my business."

"Not to point out the obvious, but hello kettle; your husband is older than you by how many years?" The pointed look I give her makes her laugh, hard. "Why don't you try again?"

"Do you bust my son's balls like this?" She scrunches up her face. "Wait, don't answer that. Look, after his divorce, Edward dated some other women who were younger, and they didn't work out. He's free to do what he wishes with his personal life; I just want him safe and happy. I don't think I've seen him happy in a few years."

Getting up, I walk to the bed, sitting next to her. "Esme, it's wonderful that you care and worry so much. But don't lump me or the next girl or the girl after that with all the others."

She grabs my hand gently. "We're back to Esme now?"

"I'll inform the peanut gallery." I nudge her shoulder with my own. "Let's go get to work, after I get something to eat. I skipped breakfast, and I'm starving."

She stands up, dragging me with her. "I made some food for everyone. Let's see if there's anything left."

Three hours later after working almost nonstop with Carlisle, Esme, and Dwayne—the taskmaster—the Cullens drop me off at Rose and Em's house, telling me they can't wait to see me on Saturday.

Entering the house, I forget for a moment that my friends are gone this week to celebrate their anniversary. I miss them, but I know they're having a good time, and it's nice to be alone for a bit. After a shower, I change into some sweats and dig in the fridge for some leftovers before trying to decide what to order for dinner while setting up my iPad to do some editing.

As I'm scrolling through a local pizzeria menu, Edward's face lights up my phone, and I answer it happily.

"My mom said you two had a nice day."

"Hello to you too." I laugh, leaning against the counter in the kitchen, looking out the window.

"Sorry, hi. How was your day?"

I fill him in on my day, trying not to sound too stressed about the issues at Crowley's, but it's Edward, and he picks up on it right away.

"Tyler didn't really expect you to be able to throw an entire party together in that short amount of time, did he?" Edward sounds shocked and exasperated; exactly how I was feelling.

"I guess he did, but I set him straight. I still need to be there for a couple hours on Saturday, but your party doesn't start until ten. It'll be fine." I sigh. "How was your day?"

"Well … Irina quit. I told you I wouldn't be surprised when she did, but she did give me a month's notice so she can train her replacement."

I knew Edward was simultaneously dreading this day and waiting for it; Irina was being headhunted by someone willing to offer her a writer's position for a competing magazine. Was she qualified? Maybe not, but it's what she wanted, so she'd be a fool to turn it down.

"I'm sorry. Did she tell you who hired her?"

"She did, and that's sort of why I'm calling. Can I come over for dinner? I want to talk to you." He sounds stressed.

"Of course. I was going to order pizza. Run by your place and grab some clothes to stay over. Mom and Dad are gone, remember?" I laugh, but Edward barely responds.

"Okay, see you soon."

Edward shows up twenty minutes before the food does, but I sent him to change out of his suit while I waited. He pecked me quickly on the lips when he arrived, and as I watch him walk down the hall, I can see the tension set in his shoulders.

I call out for him, but when he doesn't respond, I walk across the house to my room to bring him to the kitchen to eat. "Edward?" I call his name, pushing the door open to find him staring at the corkboard above my dresser. I put pictures all over it, including every picture I have of the two of us.

"I didn't know you did this," he says, gesturing to the board. I smile, walking over to wrap my arm around his waist.

"I wanted to be able to see you, even when we were apart. Maybe it's silly, but I like it." I give him a tug. "Let's go eat."

Edward doesn't move when I pull him with me. "This is sweet, and no one has done something like this before, or if they have, it's been strategic and calculated. This makes my heart beat like crazy in my chest." He raises a fist to his heart and thumps on it lightly, smiling at me.

Walking back over to him, I cup his face in my hands. "You make my heart beat like crazy in my chest, Edward Cullen." Leaning up, I press my lips to his, and he melts into my touch, only pulling away to touch his forehead to mine.

"Let's go eat; I need to tell you about my day." He clasps my hand, and we walk to the kitchen together.

As we eat dinner, Edward tells me about his talk with Irina. He gave her a glowing letter of recommendation, of course, but couldn't in good conscience praise her writing skills. She'd been disappointed and seemed all too happy to inform him who her new boss would be when he'd asked.

"It's Lauren." He waits for my reaction, and admittedly, it takes me more than a moment.

"Lauren?" Shaking my head, suddenly I understand what he's saying. "Wait, your Lauren?"

Edward chuckles humorlessly. "She hasn't been mine for years, but yes. Remember I told you that she was pissed that I wouldn't just give her a job at Real Men so she went out and worked her way up at some competitor? Well …"

"Well what?"

"Lauren is the new Features Editor. She works hand in hand with the editor of the magazine." He sets his plate aside to focus on what he's saying. "I did some digging today, spoke with some people who used to work for the magazine and have left in the time that Lauren has been there."

Snorting, I take a bite of my slice. "What is she doing? Blackmailing them until they quit and she moves into their roles?"

I watch as Edward swallows, hard. "Nobody said anything that direct, but it seems that way. She's now dating the owner of her magazine, and he's the one who's been sniffing around about trying to buy Real Men from under me."

I start to choke a little, and Edward reaches out to pat my back. "Irina will have told her about us, and Lauren knows how you operate." Sighing deeply, I grab his hand. "We have to end this now."

Flipping his hand over, he links our fingers. "I thought the same. But, Bella, I don't want that. I like being with you, and I don't want to lose what we've just started. You're different, and frankly, you make me different."

Feeling my breath hitch in my throat, I ask the only thing I can. "What are you saying? I need you to be clear."

"You're more than just a baby to me. You're someone I want to talk about my problems with and share my victories with. I don't just want you available for fancy dinners or when I need a physical release … I want you for all of it." He scoots his chair closer to me, staring into my eyes.

"What happens when the age difference gets to be too much? What happens when I fall in love with you because I see that happening a lot sooner than either of us being upset by fifteen years." Tears are falling from my eyes, but I can't stop them even if I wanted to.

Edward wipes at my cheeks with his free hand. "I haven't wanted to try a relationship so much since I was married. I told you that I believed in love; I just wasn't ready for it. Maybe it's high time I was. I'd be a fool not to fall in love with you, Bella."

Dammit. I was super prepared to guard my heart for as long as I could, but when a man like this charming, kind, and forthcoming bastard puts it all out on the line, what am I supposed to do?

"Okay, let's do it."

His eyes widen in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Leaning forward, I kiss him quickly. "But as the publicist for this relationship, we need to do some damage control as soon as possible."

Edward laughs. "Can we have dessert first?" He wiggles his eyebrows, and I shove him away.

"First, we clean up, then we photo dump." I smirk. "Then dessert."

I execute a step-by-step plan to create our story online. Luckily, when you know how enough works, you figure out how to backdate things. Like when I took a picture inside the lounge on our first date and I uploaded it to my Instagram, and it ended up buried with a date from almost eight weeks ago. Same thing with all my pictures from Milan; adding them with a backdate and turning off the comments makes it easy. It's like I'm hacking my own and Edward's accounts but with less finesse.

Edward still has a Facebook page, so we update that, and then I upload some photos of us. I add a few candids to my Instagram stories before I call it a night. We can't dump everything all at once; besides, there will be plenty of opportunities coming up at the party.

"Hey, did you decide on your costume for Saturday?" I ask as Edward pulls me to his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders on the couch.

"I'm going to be the Dread Pirate Roberts." He turns back to the TV where he has ESPN on.

"Edward, babe? That's not ocean or sea themed," I tell him, trying desperately to hide my smirk.

"What do you mean? He's a pirate!"

"He's a specific character from The Princess Bride, which is not about the ocean or the sea. You can be a pirate, just not that one!" I'm laughing, almost snorting at his expression of shock and disgust. He's so mad; he's been telling me that the strip of hair he's been growing above his lip was for his costume.

"As you wish." He settles me back against his body. "What's your great costume?"

"I'm going to be a zombie mermaid." I look up at him. "Why don't you be my dashing zombie prince?"

"Will you help me?" He leans down to kiss my lips gently.

"What else is a girlfriend for?" I smile before turning the TV off and dragging him to bed for dessert.