A/N: Brand new story. Please review if you like it so far. I plan on it being a little more fluffy that previous stories. Hope you Enjoy!
Alice was dead. Literally. I was tired of her trying to set me up on dates with random women who couldn't carry a half way decent conversation. Tonight had been the last straw. Tonight's catastrophe was named Jessica. She was a 23 year old model that had worked for Alice, my sister, and up and coming fashion designer. It was sheer torture from the moment I sat down at the table to the time I managed to fake an urgent phone call from my boss. During dinner, she talked about the most asinine things imaginable. How she had just got out of a serious relationship, how much she liked Jimmy Choo (I have no idea who the fuck he is), how she thought Legally Blonde was a comic masterpiece. I was done. I wanted to go find my loving sister and strangle her. But first, I wanted a stiff drink.
So here I sat at the bar down the road from my apartment, sipping on my Glenfiddich Single Malt Whiskey, like it was a lifeline. For some reason I kept glancing around the bar, probably out of sheer terror that Jessica may have followed me when I finally left the restaurant. I looked around at my unassuming surroundings and was glad to be so close to home. I could drink myself into forgetting the last three hours before I stumbled home. It was the perfect plan. Until she walked in.
I was doing another sweep of the bar, making sure the vapid model hadn't found me and saw the picture of perfection walk in, and sit down a few stools from me at the bar. She quickly ordered a gin and tonic from the bartender, who was looking at her in a very similar way to me. She had long brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She was dressed in a knee length black skirt and light blue top that hung nicely on her small frame. She was very attractive. I was tempted to buy her a drink, but luckily for me, she was a talkative woman and struck up conversation with me.
"Do all men suck?" she asked, with an angry inflection to her voice.
"Um... were you talking to me?" I asked, still a bit shocked that this adorable woman was talking to me.
"Yeah, I'm doing an informal survey. So… do all men suck?" she asked again as she took a sip of her drink.
"Depends on your definition of suck, I suppose," I answered bluntly. She laughed carelessly and smiled one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen. I would have to remind myself later to thank Alice for setting me up on the worst date of my entire life, because I had met this lovely creature instead.
"Are all men evil, stupid, vile?"
"Yes. It's something that was drilled into us shortly after childbirth," I nodded and she laughed again.
"So where are all the good guys?" she asked curiously.
"Well, there's one right here, and the rest are somewhere in the gay section of town. Isn't it a common misnomer that all the good ones are either married or gay?" I asked, gaining a bit of confidence in talking to her. What I wouldn't give to know her name, get her phone number, spread her onto this counter and make love to her.
"Yeah, I've heard that somewhere. So, you are neither married nor gay, yet you claim to be one of the good guys?"
"I am one of the good guys. Ask my sister," I laughed at this remark most of all, knowing full well that Alice would say anything to put me in a positive light. I could be the Unabomber and she would chat happily about the 'adorable little cottage I had in the woods.'
"Ok, give me her number," she said as she moved to the seat right next to me. I dialed Alice on my cell phone and waited impatiently for her to answer.
"Voicemail," I said to her, a little upset that Alice didn't answer.
"Ok, let me leave a message," she said as she grabbed my phone and waited for a moment, clearly awaiting Alice's long drawn out message to finish. "Hi Alice, this is Bella. I just met your brother tonight and he insists to me that he is one of the 'good guys' so call me back at 548-8795 and confirm this for me, alright? Thanks!" Bella handed me the phone back and gave me a small smile.
"Bella, that's a beautiful name," I was practically blushing as the words fell from my mouth.
"It's Isabella actually, but I prefer Bella. And you are?"
"Edward Cullen, pleased to meet you," I stammered lightly as I extended my hand out to her. She took it gently.
"Bella Swan. Wait, if you are Edward Cullen, does that mean I just left a message for Alice Cullen, THE Alice Cullen," she squeaked with a hint of excitement.
"Uh, yeah. Is that okay?" I asked curiously.
"More than okay. I love her stuff. She has some of the most interesting and sexy designs out there," sighed Bella happily.
"Well, I'm sure she would love to hear that. You can mention it to her when she calls you back to confirm my identity as one of the rare 'good guys'" I joked as I ordered myself another drink. "Need a refill?" I asked Bella tentatively. She shook her head and I ordered her another drink.
We spent the next hour talking about the most random, yet interesting things. She was a photographer, and had just been out on the worst date of her life. She laughed the story of my date from hell, and we exchanged witty comments about our dates.
"Seriously Edward, if this guy was any shorter, he would have carried a battleaxe and required a huge beard. I mean, I'm only like 5'4" but I towered over this guy. I felt like I was babysitting him, not dating him," she threw her head back and laughed heartily. I just wanted to lick her neck.
"You know you are on a bad date when she spends the first hour quoting the movie, 'Legally Blonde'" I teased, as we made a new game for ourselves.
"You know you are on a bad date, when you are with Gimli from Lord of the Rings."
"You know you are on a bad date, when she thinks a la carte means it comes to you on a cart." I joked, and she elbowed me, laughing happily.
"You know you are on a bad date when he's got a fanny pack," she started. "Ok, so I stole that from the 40 Year Old Virgin, but it still works." Aww… a woman after my own heart. She likes Steve Carrell and gin and tonic.
It was almost two perfect hours of conversation later when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked at it and almost didn't answer, but it was Alice.
"Hi Alice," I said pleasantly into the phone, loud enough so that Bella could hear me. She turned her head and listened intently.
"So big brother, I have a very weird message on my phone from someone named Bella wanting to confirm you aren't a serial killer or something. What the fuck?" she asked comically.
"Why don't you talk to her about it," I said as I handed my phone to Bella.
"Hi Alice, it's a pleasure to talk to you," started Bella. I listened carefully as they had their little conversation. I was dying to know what my sister was sharing with the angel who sat next to me. "Yeah, bodies in the basement. Uh huh, sick sexual fetishes. Ok, married. Gotcha, thanks Alice," she said as I was practically crapping my pants. I reached for the phone from her and wanted to talk to Alice to find out why she would lie like that to Bella. "She hung up a few seconds before I said that shit," she laughed to herself. Oh, she's got jokes.
"Very funny. I trust my sister spoke of me in a good light?" I asked, still extremely curious about their conversation.
"Completely. She was a little too positive about you," she laughed again. Oh how I loved that laugh. I stared down at my watch and it was already past 1 in the morning. I was dreading saying good bye to this woman. Luckily, there was another hour until the bar closed, so I still had time. "So, Edward, what do you do anyways?"
"I'm a writer. Part time journalist, which pays the bills and part time author, which doesn't pay for anything right now." She just cocked her eye brow as though she found this interesting. I had found everything about her tonight interesting. The way she circled her glass with her finger, whenever she was thinking about something seriously. The way she ran her fingers through her soft hair when she was nervous. The way she talked about photography as though it was the only thing in the world. She was positively endearing. Before I knew it, the bartender was giving us the evil eye, signaling it was time to leave.
"Time to go, I guess," I said as I motioned to the bartender, who was cleaning up a bit. I looked around the bar again, no sign of the stalker, or anyone else for that matter. Apparently Bella and I had closed the place down. "It's kind of a shame this has to end. This has been by far the most interesting part of my month."
"Who says it has to end?" she said slyly as she winked at me. Jackpot.
He was gorgeous. He was smart. He was sexy. His sister was an awesome fashion designer. What wasn't to like. Oh that's right. After my most recent disaster of a relationship I had sworn off men. But did I have to swear off this man? My best friend Rosalie had been trying to get me back out into the dating scene for weeks, but each date turned into a worse failure than the last. From the date with the dentist (sheer boring torture) to the one with the artist (arrogant prick) I was almost certain that she was trying to kill me through these dates.
Edward seemed different though. His sister certainly seemed to like him, which was a good sign. If a guy treated his sister decently, he would most definitely treat his girlfriend just as nice. I didn't want to be his girlfriend though. I had enough stress in my life thanks to my demanding job. All these dates I had gone on were basically to placate Rosalie. Perhaps I would mention meeting Edward to her so that she could get off my back.
I was pretty bummed when Edward said that they were closing the bar. I really wanted to continue talking to him some more. He was very funny, and humor was something that was sorely missing in my life these days. I was shocked though when I practically propositioned him before we left the bar.
"Who says it has to end?" That was definitely something I wouldn't say unless I was seven Gin and Tonics in. He nodded his head in agreement, apparently not ready to part from me either.
"I live just down the street, if you are interested in a nightcap?" he offered sweetly.
"That sounds… perfect," I said as I stood from stool and he led the way from the bar.
"You know you are on a bad date when she starts telling you the names of her 13 cats," he said happily as we wandered down the street, with me beside him, a little too eager for my own good.