DISCLAIMER: The plot belongs to me but all things Twilight belong to the lovely Stephenie Meyer
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to all of those who reviewed. You all had me laughing with your prank ideas. I'm glad you liked the prank they pulled on Emmett. We have 800reviews! Crazy cool, lovies. Keep it up. They keep me motivated to write. Can we make it to 1,000? I have faith in you. Lol. ANyway, forward. Onward to the story. :P
The Word of the Day is Advice
"So, you don't want your friends to know we went on a date?"
"We didn't go on a date." I insisted, opening the door to the store. The bell above the door jingled a merry tone and I wrinkled my nose at it's joyful view. It was almost mocking.
"I'm starting to think you're ashamed of me, sweetums." he tisked.
I glared at him over my shoulder, letting the door fall closed behind me before he could grab it. He shook his head, rolling his eyes and opened it again, following me in.
I rolled my eyes.
"Don't call me that." I said curtly.
He grinned cheekily.
"What?" he asked innocently. "Sweetums?"
My glare intensified and he chuckled, shaking his head.
"What would you rather me call you, Beautiful Bella?" He asked, his tone dropping a few octaves as he leaned closer to me.
My eyes widened at his close proximity and the sudden change in his tone.
"'Bella' works." I said, managing to keep my breathing in check.
He smirked, putting one hand on either side of me on the wall behind me. When had I backed against the wall.
"Why didn't you want Alice and Jasper to know we were together last night?" He asked. He sounded honestly curious. I took a breath to steady myself. He was just so close. And he smelled so good.
"Because they would think we were dating or something." I mumbled.
He sighed, shaking his head and taking a step back from me.
"And that would just be the end of the world." He said sarcastically.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I'm sure it's at least in the top ten signs of the Apocalypse." I said dryly.
"What are the other nine?" He asked.
I ignored him, catching site of the store owner that Alice always talked to.
"We just have to get through this without killing each other because Alice is counting on us." I said in a stern voice. He couldn't go getting ideas now. "And because she's seriously scary at times and she'd kick my butt."
He snickered but I had a feeling that he knew it was the truth.
"And keep out of my bubble." I said, poking him in the chest.
"Your bubble?" he questioned,
"My personal space."
"Aw." He nodded as if he understood but he was totally mocking me.
I looked over at the store owner.
"Are you here for Miss Brandon's center pieces?"
I took a step even further away from him, steadying myself.
"Yes," I said. "The white Calla Lillie's with the baby breath."
"Yes, of course." He said, smiling kindly. "They're in the back."
I smiled in thanks. He had been so wonderfully patient with this whole process. It takes a saint to put up with Alice in wedding planning mode. Especially when it's hers. If I was him I would have closed the place down and hid in the corner the second I saw that yellow Porsche drive up but he had the patience of a... well, a saint thankfully.
He turned to get the center pieces for me but then he paused, looking over his shoulder- eying Edward curiously.
"Was there something I could get you, sir?" he asked.
Edward shook his head.
"No, thank you." He said. When had he attained manors? So, that stuff was selective huh? Interesting.
He smirked at me as if he could sense my gaze on him and I rolled my eyes.
"I'm just following along with this beautiful young woman today." He continued, turning his attention back to the store owner.
"But not too close." he chuckled. "She doesn't like people in her personal bubble."
I scoffed and the store owner looked at me with amusement, raising one eyebrow.
"That's good to know." He said.
I glared at him. Some saint he was turning out to be.
Edward laughed as the owner disappeared into the back room quickly after the interaction. I turned to him, putting my hands on my hips.
"What was that?" I asked.
He corked an eyebrow at me, that same obnoxious half grin on his face. It was like he was doing this on purpose- showing me that none of it was going to bother him. It was almost a rebellion.
"'Beautiful young woman?'" I quoted.
He nodded once.
"That's what I said."
I rolled my eyes.
"So I heard." I sighed. "Are you going to explain why?"
He cocked his head to the side, looking at me almost calculatingly.
"What part do you need me to explain?" He asked. "The beautiful part? The young?"
He smirked, letting his eyes run down the length of my form.
"Or is it the woman part?"
I crossed my arms over my chest.
"You think I'm bitter? Well I think you're hiding behind that suave exterior." I said, matter of fact. What kind of person can't have a normal conversation without filling it chalk full of practiced lines?
"I think you're scared of opening up to anyone and you hide behind those sexy crocked grins and cocky lines." I said, smirking as I saw his eyes widening. "Do you practice them in front of the mirror every morning or something?"
He was quite for a moment, looking at me with a smile pulling one side of his mouth up. I had just called him out. Why was he looking at me like I'd just stood on my head, singing the national anthem in pig-Latin?
"Not every morning." He said eventually in amusement. "You think I'm sexy?"
My eyes widened. What? I ran over my soap box sermon word for word in my head and cringed when I saw my slip up. Suave and sexy. That's what I had said.
"That's the only part of that you caught?" I sighed, putting my hands on my hips and hoping that he'd let me divert his attention away from my slip up.
He shook his head.
"No." he said. "I heard all of it."
He paused for a minute, seeming to think.
"It's interesting to see how you view me."
I opened my mouth to retort, ask what that was even supposed to mean. But the store owner came back into view, holding three huge center pieces carefully and Edward rushed to grab one from him. The store owner handed me the other one, smiling thankfully.
I just stood there, watching Edward help the older man for a moment before I finally just shook my head. He may be hiding behind those lines but there was something about him. I wasn't sure what it was but something about him had captured my attention and my curiosity. Now I had to decide whether that was going to be enough to keep me from killing the man.
I hope you can suck it up and stop being a pansy? No. Quite your whining. Stop your pining.
That one made me chuckle but I knew I'd be fired before I could say unemployment if I actually sent it in.
I could handle being sympathetic to those who had lost a loved one in death. I could understand that and I could understand people wanting to buy them cards. But really? A break up card? I actually laughed when my boss told me to make one. And I still can't believe it falls into the category of condolences.
If she dumped you she's not going to care you're sitting there crying.
Stop crying. It might be why she dumped you.
"I suck." I said aloud.
I sighed, running my hands over my face. It had been a long day. On the way back to Alice and Jasper's house Alice had called and asked us to do some more wedding errands on the way home. This meant a full day with Edward and now I was going to have to stay up late writing this asinine thing and my boss had insisted it rhymed.
A rhyming, pinning, love struck card. This is what I had become. I glanced over at my unfinished book lying on the coffee table amidst all of my crumbled attempts at being sympathetic. You couldn't really call it a book, not even an unfinished one. It was more just a bunch of loose leaf pages piled together haphazardly. They weren't even in order.
It had been part of reinventing myself when I'd moved back to Forks, giving up my dream job of editor. I thought if I couldn't do that then writing one would be the next best thing. And it was still literature. Soon enough I realized it was a lot harder than that- just write a book. I hadn't even had a thorough idea for the plot. I just started writing. I still don't know what the point of it was. But the money starting running out and Charlie was out of work, retiring early. Writing wasn't going to pay the bills- especially not the way I was going about it. Not writing literature that is.
Which brings us to the wonderfully inspirational things I was writing now.
There's plenty of fishes in the sea. Not moping is the key.
I was seriously considering calling my boss and giving him a piece of my mind, subsequently getting fired no doubt in the process when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and smiled.
"Bella Swan's house of expressionless cards." I said in greeting.
The voice on the other end chuckled.
"Not feeling very sympathetic today?" He asked.
I shrugged, looking at the stacks of abandoned papers.
"Not especially." I replied easily.
"What is it today, hun?" he asked, not hiding the amusement in his tone.
I spun around in my chair. Oh, where to begin?
"Sobbing, heart wrenching break up card." I sighed dramatically, trying for wistful.
He snorted and I narrowed my eyes.
"Hey," I defended. "It's getting there."
"Whatever, girlie." He didn't sound convinced but I let it go since I had been contemplating quiting just moments before.
"Anyway, I haven't heard from you in a while so I thought I'd give you a call." He continued. "How's my favorite chickadee?"
I grinned, shaking my head. I had been friends with Jacob Black since we were both in diapers. Our fathers were best friends and they threw us together right away, both being single parents of course. Jake's mom died during childbirth with him and my mom ran away with a pro baller when I was one. So Charlie and Billy started a type of club. They called it the help us remain sane outreach. It consisted of play dates for me and Jake while they drank beer and grumbled about what stunt they had to put up with that week. Dad had even tried to play match maker a time or two but that had proven highly disappointing to him. Let's just say that I wasn't his type. But he and his boyfriend, Sam are very happy together and we've all remained good friends.
"Oh, good." I said. "Busy having my truck stolen by an amazingly sexy bronze haired God. Then I-"
"What a minute there." He interrupted. "Who's a sexy God?"
There was silence for a moment.
"Okay." He said eventually. "And he stole your truck?"
"Yup." I said, popping the 'p'
"Okay." I chuckled. "I'll start from the beginning."
An hour later I had told him the entire story starting with shopping with Alice and coming back to no truck all the way to the evening when I had to get center pieces with him.
The first thing he said when I was finished was, "Emmett is gay?"
I rolled my eyes.
"No. It was just a prank the truck-napper and I pulled."
He was silent again- contemplating.
"Alright." I scoffed. "Fantasies on your own time, Jake. Rose would take you down."
"To China Town." He agreed.
"So why are you fighting this 'bronze haired God?'" He turned the tables again. You could hear the mocking quotations in his voice.
"Were you not listening to the story?" I demanded. "He stole my truck. I hate him."
"Isabella Marie Swan." He chided. "I know you and you do not hate him."
"Jake." I whined.
"Tell the truth, chickadee."
I wrinkled my nose, stubborn. But this was Jacob Black, one of the only people more stubborn than I was. I sighed.
"He's okay." I admitted, defeated. Would I tell him that? I think not!
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, obviously proud of himself.
I glowered at the wall, hoping that he'd be able to feel the burn of my eyes from where ever he was.
"But he's really irritating!" I added. And boy, was that an understatement.
"Well, so are you Bellie Bird." He said between laughs. "But I still love you."
"How thoughtful." I sneered.
"Stop pouting." he chided teasingly. "You know I love you. But I gotta run, girlie. Sam just got home."
"Love you too." I sniffed, only mildly offended. "Tell Sam hi from me."
He called a loud hi to Sam without pulling the phone away and I cringed.
"He says hi back." He informed me.
"I'm telling Sam about the God-like bronze haired stud." he informed me.
I grimaced. That's just what I needed- being ganged up on by a couple of gay Indians.
"You added the stud part your own self." I reminded him firmly. "The word stud never exited my mouth."
He ignored me.
"Whatever." He dismissed. "You need to stop being the irritable, illogical, stubborn Bella that growing up without a Mommy has made you and give the stud a chance. Let yourself be happy for once please."
"Okay, Dr. Philina." I snorted. "Thanks for the advice. Now stop saying stud. I think it just made me puke a little in my mouth."
And again he ignored me. He was almost as bad as Alice! Man, I needed to find some new friends.
"And I know Sam will agree with me." he stated proudly.
I rolled my eyes.
"What does Sam know?" I asked rhetorically. "He is with you after all."
"Please." he exaggerated. "Like you wouldn't date me if you could. You think I'm beautiful."
Tell your gay friend that he's beautiful once when you're drunk and he'll hold it over your head for the rest of eternity.
"I'm sorry, Jake." I sighed dramatically. "But you're just not my type."
He laughed and I grinned despite myself.
"Okay, I'm going now chickadee." He continued to laugh. "Give the stud a chance."
"Bye, Jake." I cut him off, hanging up before he could talk me into anything seriously stupid.
I set the phone back on the stand beside my chair and looked at the abandoned papers for the myriad time today. Nope, not going to happen today. The boss could wait one day without blowing a fuse.
Give Edward a chance? Hmm, well. I don't think.
I sighed, frustrated. Give Edward a chance?
I twirled around in my chair again. I guess I could see where it goes...
Maybe I should make a pro and con list.
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