A/N: Enjoy! That's all I've got to say for now!
Full Summery: Edward Cullen's a journalist for the Seattle Observer; Isabella Swan is a famous Author who prefers to remain outside of the limelight. Upon moving back to Forks, Isabella Swan grants the Seattle Observer an interview…and just guess who the lucky journalist is?
Disclaimer: You guessed it, none of it's mine…not Edward, not Bella, not…well…not anyone else either.
Warnings: Language, and later lemons, methinks. I'll probably warn you guys if there's anything bad going to happen...
She was beautiful, sleek, bright, curves in all the right places; hard on the outside, squashy and comfortable on the inside. I loved the way she reacted to the slightest touch of my hand, and the way she purred when I pushed her buttons. The sweet sounds she made when I pushed her to her limits. I washed her, dried her, fed her, touched her, and kept her. She'd been my lady since I was eighteen years old. She was the sort of girl I could show off to my friends, but the sort of girl I could take home and proudly show off to my parents. Oh yes, my girl was perfect.
She was a silver Volvo S60R, and I loved her.
"Come on, Tanya baby", I murmured softly to my girl as I put my key in the ignition. The engine purred as she came to life. I pushed down on the clutch and stepped on the gas; pushing down a button to my left, and waiting for the window to open fully. There was no better feeling than the wind whipping though my hair as me and my girl hit the open road.
My brother, Emmett, had jokingly named her after my high maintenance high school sweetheart, whose first comment about my beautiful car had been that it made me look like I was a 'daddy'. Emmett had responded by singing her 'daddy cool', and needless to say, the name had stuck. My silver sweetheart had been my graduation present at eighteen, and had been the only constant in my life since.
I flicked on the radio, switching stations almost immediately as the melodious opening of Nocturne in G Major spilled out of the radio; Chopin wasn't conducive to driving fast. And the only thing Eminem was conducive to was a headache, I thought, flipping past the next station as well. I spun the volume dial from five to eight as the sound of We Are Kings filled the car. Grinning, I put my pedal to the metal, loving the sound of my baby roaring along the highway. The roads were empty so early in the morning, it was seven am, and, for a day in Seattle, it was damned lovely. The summer sun, a rarity even at the height of summer, which is was, was rising behind me, and the mirrors in my car were giving me a spectacular view. Pinks, reds, yellows, and deep blues spilled over the horizon, with the beautiful burning orb in the centre. It was going to be a beautiful day. It was going to be a good day too, I could feel it.
All too soon I reached the town centre, and the sun was lost to the brickwork of houses and shops and offices. The office I was headed for was right in the centre; it's new red brickwork and impressive metre high, metre wide windows reflected the sunlight that managed to make its way through the gaps between buildings. I swung into a parking space close to the door; one of the few perks of being early, and stepped out into the cool morning light, yanking my briefcase behind me. I quickly locked up my baby, and tucked my keys into the pocket of my pants, before making my way towards the concrete steps, which I took two at a time.
"Morning, Kate!" I called, as I made my way though the double, sliding doors, across the foyer, and towards a long, marble desk. A blonde head popped up from behind the desk, and the woman turned to give me a breathtaking smile.
"Edward", she greeted me, "you look far too happy about being here so early". She pouted at me, obviously not exactly ecstatic to be working at such a time.
"How long have you been here?" I quizzed her, reaching for the register and signing in. The register had been introduced shortly after I'd started, as a way for Aro, the 'boss man' as everyone called him, to make sure he was paying people the correct overtime. Kate leant her elbow on the counter, and rested her chin on her fist.
"Since twelve", she replied, rolling her eyes, "Irina's got her big date tonight, so I got the graveyard shift. So now she owes me a big favour."
I laughed, Irina, Kate's elder sister, had been excited about her 'big date' with a guy named Laurent from the Port Angeles Herold since last week. She'd been enamoured with him since they'd met at a journalist's conference last year, and he had finally asked the girl out. The only thorn in her side, she'd told Edward privately, was that Garrett had still not 'grown the balls' (she'd put it so eloquently) to ask Kate out; despite the various obvious flirtation on both sides, and the massive hints that have been dropped, not only by Kate, but by Irina, and most of the staff on the newspaper.
"Don't look so glum, girl!", I told her, grinning, and leaning over to ruffle her far-too-perfect hair. She squealed at me and jumped backwards, hands already attempting to fix what horrors I'd caused. I leaned forwards a bit, beckoning for her to lean forwards too. She scowled, and held her hands up on top of her head. "Don't worry, Garrett will prove he's a man soon enough".
I winked at her, and she blushed, before smiling shyly.
"Thanks, Edward", she said softly.
"No problem", I grinned again, turning away from the desk, and making my way towards the staircase, with a glance at my watch. Seven twenty. I had ten minutes to spare. Aro wanted to meet at his office at Seven thirty. I decided to take the stairs.
Fifteen levels higher, and seven minutes later I was standing outside a mahogany door with a plaque that read 'Aro - Senior Editor' in gold, flowing script. I reached up and knocked.
"Come in!", a deep voice called from within. I straightened my collar, and twisted the golden handle; pushing open the door, I stepped in.
"Edward, my boy!" the man known as Aro called from across the room, grinning at me; his papery skin stretching around his cheekbones, and crinkling around his large eyes. "Come here and sit down", he told me, stepping back behind his desk and sitting down himself, shuffling his papers.
"Of course", I replied, Aro had been my mentor when I'd started out at the Settle Observer; he was a kind old man with a big heart, and an eye for a good story. "What was it you wished to see me about?"
"Well, my boy", Aro started, threading his fingers together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He leant forwards and balanced his chin on his interlinked fingers. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'you know you've hit the big time when you've gotten an interview with Isabella Swan'?"
Isabella Swan, that name rang a bell.
"No?" I said, slightly questioning.
"I didn't think you had", Aro replied, matter of factly.
"Oh?" It was a question again.
"I just made it up", he told me; there was laughter in his eyes. I chuckled at him.
"Is there a reason for this?" I asked him.
"As a matter of fact, there is", he told me, and leant back in his seat. "You see Edward, I've been watching very closely, and I am aware that Isabella Swan very rarely gives interviews. There are several papers that would donate the sexual organs of most of their staff in order to get such an interview." He smiled.
"And, what does this have to do with me?" I had no idea what he was talking about, my brow bent in confusion. She didn't give interviews, so what? I didn't like where this was leading. Next thing he'd be asking me to go knocking on her door and requesting an interview. It had been done before. My good looks, apparently, were a 'valuable asset' to the paper. As much as I hated the fact, I had to admit that they were kind of helpful when interviewing women…
"Well, you see, I did a little bit of research, and it turns out that Ms Swan is actually from just down the road, Forks, to be precise, just like you."
"And it just so happens that Ms Swan has just moved back. And it just so happens that I'm very close friends with her father. And it just so happens that he's arranged an interview for me. Good man that he is."
I simply nodded.
"My problem is that the interview is set up for tomorrow afternoon, and, you see, I'm leaving for Chicago tomorrow morning. Therefore I've had to pick somebody else to conduct the interview…and I thought to myself last night, who'd be the best person to do this interview? I thought about it for a long time, you know; can't take Ms Swan lightly after all. And then it came to me. Ms Swan is a young, successful, attractive woman, and her perfect match would be a young, successful, attractive man. And you just so happen to be a young, successful, attractive man Edward, so I've decided that you should be the person to interview Ms Swan. If all goes well, I might even give you a promotion."
I felt incapable of speech, Aro had just offered me the biggest break of my life; an interview with the un-interview-able. Ms Swan…Isabella Swan was going to be my big break.
"Don't thank me now, Edward", Aro chuckled, leaning back again. "The interview will be in three parts, the first part will be tomorrow, at 4pm. I've e-mailed the details to you. I expect you to spend the day sorting through the questions that have been sent in by her fans. Chose the best ones carefully. They're on your desk."
"Yes, yes of course Aro. Thank you!" I stood, reached over and shook his hand, before grabbing my briefcase and making my way to my office. Isabella Swan. If only I could work out where I'd heard that name before.
My desk was located seven floors down from Aros; I shared the floor with eight others, and some of their assistants, for those of them lucky enough to have them. The whole floor was open plan, save for the very far West side, which was the floor's toilet block.
Though, in total, there were only about twelve of us that were supposed to be located on the floor, ours always seemed to be the centre of all the action, and filled with people. Somewhere during my chat with Aro, the place had become a hive of activity. I made my way past Mary and Randall, with the food and coffee carts, and greeted them, stopping quickly to pick up a coffee; it was still far too early. On my trek across the floor I waved at those people I knew, and greeted those I knew better. Zafrina and Senna stood discussing an article that was due later that afternoon, and were speaking faster than I could keep up with. Zafrina was the paper's top contract photographer, and Marcus, who sorted out all of the pictures and illustrations for the paper absolutely doted on her. At another desk, Peter and Charlotte argued over whose version of the 'Seattlians Speak' column was better, and which one would make the paper that afternoon. I would never have believed the two were married, had Jasper not shown me the wedding photographs. I grinned and waved at the two, and they halted their bickering for a moment to return the smiles and waves, before picking up their argument again as soon as I'd passed. I chuckled.
I looked up at my desk when I was a couple of metres away, and finally noticed that there was somebody there already. A tall, lean man with honey blonde hair leant back against my desk, his eyes closed as the sunlight fell over him. He wore light jeans, and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows. A large black camera hung from a thick black strap around his neck. I snorted as I noticed several pink, heart shaped charms dangling from the camera.
"Don't even go there Masen", the man warned, opening his eyes. He was the only person I'd ever known with such an odd eye colour. They were the colour of soft butterscotch, though my sister preferred describing them as 'liquid gold'.
"She's got you whipped, Jasper", I told him, walking past him to sit in my squashy black swivel chair. I leant back. "She'll start curling your hair and doing your make up soon, you know". I sniggered.
"And you know this from experience?" he replied, turning round and smirking at me. I kept quiet. Unfortunately, my little sister had indeed put make up on me in the past. Thankfully, my hair had never been long enough to curl. It had, however, been subject to many experiments that were conducted with her hair straighteners. I'd told Carlisle and Esme that getting her hair those electronic torture devices was not a good idea. It wasn't like she had enough hair to use them on in the first place. Of course, I would be the one unlucky enough to become her new doll. Emmett was too strong for her to force, and I was too weak willed. Thank God for Rosalie and her long locks, or I'd most likely still be Alice's lab rat.
"No answer Masen? You surprise me", he grinned, and came to sit down on the other side of my desk, facing me. Even with his arse on the table, his feet still reached the floor; Jasper had always been lanky.
"I live to please", I replied. "Now, get off my desk".
The term 'desk' that was used for the three massive tables we were given was quite ridiculous. But the funny thing was that we always needed all three of them. The longest table was stretched out in front of me; and the other two tables joined it at their ends and were at my sides. My computer was on my left, and my in tray; which was pretty much the whole table, was on my right. The long table in front of me was used for when I needed to sort through everything. It also housed a massive pot full of pens and papers, and the photographs of my family that I liked to keep near me.
Jasper refused to move, popping the 'p' in 'nope'.
"And why, may I ask, are you gracing me with your presence, Mr Freelance?" Jasper was a freelance photographer. He'd had a camera longer than anyone could remember, and liked to photograph anything and everything. His favourite model being his fiancé, my little sister, Alice. He'd first gotten into the business, however, through his twin sister, Rosalie, who'd broken into the modelling industry before she'd even managed to graduate. Jasper, of course, was her personal photographer. Rosalie was the sort of girl every guy wanted his best friend to have as a sister. She was the original 'girl next door'. Golden locks that fell to just past her arse, great assets, big blue eyes, and legs that went on forever. She was absolutely stunning. As of the last seven years or so, other ways to describe her would have been 'absolutely off limits', or 'absolutely Emmett's'. She and my elder brother had been together since high school, and it didn't look as though that was ever going to change. She was the gorgeous blonde, and he was the bear-like jock, with a goofy grin and a heart the size of Saturn. It's just a shame he didn't have the brains to match.
"Alice loves Isabella Swan", he replied, "the woman you're interviewing tomorrow. So I told Aro I wanted to shoot it, and he said okay. I've got to take some of Alice's clothes along for her, and a book for signing, of course." I nodded. Jasper would do just about anything when it came to Alice. Even if Aro had said no, I had no doubt that Jasper would have come along anyway. As I said, completely whipped. No doubt Alice was interested in making Ms Swan a future customer at her Boutique. 'Mary Alice' was my sister's brand. She was still a new kid on the block, designer wise, but we had no doubt she'd make it big in the future. After all, she had Rosalie Hale (she'd changed her surname when she'd gotten famous), as a model, and Jasper Whitlock as a photographer. You couldn't go far wrong. Not to mention that Alice had the natural talent for the job.
'I love you baby, and if if's quite alright, I need you baby…'
Jasper's phone brought me out of my musings,
"Honey, is it really necessary to change my ring tone every time you see my phone?"
He was speaking to Alice; I debated whether or not to remind him of the time she changed his ring tone to the Divinyls. There are few things I've found funnier than the words 'when I think about you, I touch myself', loudly interrupting graduation. It was the first and only time I'd ever seen Jasper blush. Not to mention I'd been standing next to Alice in line to get our diplomas; I'd been positive that she was going to spontaneously combust. I wasn't sure whether I was happy or sad to realise that she hadn't.
"…Okay, love, I'll tell him…no, I promise, I'll do it now, as soon as I get off the phone…Yes love, I'm sure. Okay, I love you too Alice, bye."
"Sure you don't want to make kissy noises down the phone too?" I teased as he flipped his phone shut. Jasper rolled his eyes.
"She asked me to remind you that we're having dinner with Carlisle and Esme next weekend". This time it was my turn to roll my eyes.
"You know how many times she's reminded me already?"
"Thirteen. This makes fourteen. I bet with Emmett that she'll have reminded me twenty times by next weekend." Jasper just grinned, amused at his fiancé's antics. He thought she was cute.
"How many times has she called Emmett?" He asked.
"Once, but she's trusting Rosalie to remember", I smirked. Jasper snorted.
"Maybe you should get a girl", he suggested, "then Alice might trust her to remember, and stop running up our phone bill by reminding you of things?" He quirked an eyebrow. I just shrugged. There was nobody around that I was interested in.
"We'll see", I told him.
"Sure will", Jasper replied, "Alice says she's giving you a month, then the blind dates are starting again."
I groaned, loudly, and hung my head, reaching up and running a hand through my hair. That brought back unwanted memories of high school, and several years after high school.
"Just thought I'd give you the heads up, man", I looked up at Jasper and saw his shit-eating grin. Oh yes, he was thoroughly enjoying this.
"Get out of here", I told him, "some of us have work to do".
"Sure thing", he grinned, "pick me up at three tomorrow, okay?" he yelled over his shoulder as he made his way out.
"Will do", I told him, "maybe", I muttered under my breath. Then I turned around to my 'in tray', or desk, and started shifting through the questions Aro had sent down. It was going to be a long day.
A/n: Hope you guys enjoyed it! If anyone is actually reading my story of course…
If you want to check out any of the songs mentioned, I'll make a list of them all later and paste it all to my profile…sometime…when I can be bothered…promise!