Disclaimer to Stephenie Meyer.

This is based of an idea that my sister came up with. Erm, then I whipped this story out from the top of my head.

Rest in peace, Steve Jobs.

This was it. The fateful last interview. If Edward succeeded today, then his job at his dream law firm was sealed and he would be on his way to being a proper paid lawyer, not any of that underdog internship crap he had to put up with. He couldn't wait. He felt the adrenaline pounding through his body, ready to answer any question the panel had for him. He had done his extra reading, he had done mock interviews with Emmett, and everything was going to be perfect. He had been practising for this moment since he was a kid. There was nothing that was going to stop him from getting this job. He had worked his ass off for it.

All he needed was patience. Edward sat, tapping his foot against the floor as his competitors waltzed in the interview room and shuffled out with sad expressions. Although disheartening, Edward was going to stride in with confidence and stride out with more confidence, even if his ego was battered. He knew he had enough charisma to pull it off.

I may not be MC Hammer, but you still can't touch this.

He felt himself grow more agitated. He needed something to distract himself with. He looked around at the other candidates. Competition. He sat up straighter than all of them. Made eye contact. He was Alpha Lawyer and he was going to get the job. He was going to make sure of it. After cockily having a staring contest with a blonde man opposite him, he needed some other distraction. He looked around again. His fingers rapped against a file, his fingers playing out a single-noted tune as he tried to find something that would occupy his mind a little. Edward saw the secretary eye him up every time she received a phone call from the panel and asked someone to go in.

"Eric Yorkie? They would like to see you now," she purred, after slamming down the phone. She pouted and gave Edward the most revolting squint he had ever seen. Good effort on your part, Miss Stanley, but reading Cosmopolitan wasn't going to get you far. Edward had read his fair share of women's monthly magazines, courtesy of his fashion-forward sister Alice and seductive girlfriend Bella, but he didn't understand a word.

First of all, the facts, completely not right. Lawyered. Bella had been lawyered on several occasions by Edward as she read out some outrageous fact that a survey (biased on Cosmo's part) said. The average length of a man's penis is 5 inches when fully erect? Did editors have long rulers and evaluate each penis they came across, muttering things like, 'Hmm… 4 inches when fully erect, I'm sorry but your penis is under the average length'.

Edward snickered. He could imagine Emmett's face if someone said that to him. Better yet, Rosalie.

Secondly, the articles were horrendous. Truly. Surely, not every man's expectation in bed was to have his girlfriend whisper, "I want you right now."

Sure, it was nice to have Bella do that several times, but what happened to a good cuddle in bed? After rounds of animalistic, quickie, fumbling sex, Edward grew weary of Bella truly to seduce him the Cosmo way. Romance wasn't dead. Yet. He wanted to make love, as his father and mother called it.

The thought of his mother and father having sex painted a horrible picture. He pulled a face and tried to concentrate on something else. His job. He was going to get the job. He was sure of it.

Edward knew that when he got the job, the first thing he was going to do was to buy Bella a large bouquet of flowers, the first of many bouquets of flowers. He would finally propose and have a small ceremony, quick weekend away to somewhere urban but close by, like Seattle, before settling into Port Angeles and working in an upscale and developing law firm. Then, when the time was right, Edward would take Bella for a proper honeymoon: backpacking in Europe, walking along the Great Wall, relax on a Hawaiian beach.

"Angela Weber, they would like you in the interview room, please."

The process was taking too long. Eric Yorkie came out looked like he had just stood in dog faeces. His nose was wrinkled as if there was a permanent bad smell, and the look deepened when he looked directly at Edward. Edward was smirked despite himself, which was probably why Eric looked so annoyed. Edward knew that Eric's interview hadn't gone to well and that was pleasing to know. After all, it was one less predator to the prey. The probability of Edward getting the job was far greater than it had been when Eric walked in, and for that, he had a lot to smirk about. Edward was smart enough to not start a confrontation in the middle of a law firm when he was interviewing for a very important job. Edward ignored the look and tried to concentrate past Eric's head. Edward grew bored of looking away and nonchalant and turned to look back at Eric. Eric's look of disgust was really obvious to see now.

"Don't think you'll get it, pretty boy," Eric snarled before storming off.

Talk about sour grapes, Edward thought as the door to the reception swung shut.

"How rude!" Miss Stanley said with an overdramatized exclamation, her bright red heels making an awful sound against the marble floor. "Are you alright?"

Edward knew that this was an excuse for her to talk to him. He just nodded and pulled out his phone, and pretended to text someone. She stood there aimlessly for a moment before clearing her throat. Edward looked up.

"Excuse me?"


"Is that the new iPhone? The 4S?"

Edward appraised the phone and turned it around, and surely it said on the back that it was the model that Miss Stanley had inquired about. She squeaked in adoration and started talking nonsense to him about his phone. He didn't even know that much. Carlisle thought that his phone needed replacing ("It still has an antennae sticking out the top! Even I have a better phone than you do, son!"), and all Edward did was just fidget with his new phone. He didn't quite believe that a phone could play music, play games, watch videos on YouTube (which was an entirely new concept to him, how had he missed out on that?), send emails and texts (which again, was entirely new to Edward. It was like an instant email to the other person!), and had a personal assistant.

Miss Stanley was talking about the personal assistant on his phone when Angela Weber strode out with her chest up high. She had a betraying weak smile, which made her look on the verge of tears.

This time, Edward tried not to smirk. He felt bad for Angela. She was a friend from a rival college to his, and if they had cracked her, Edward knew that little could be salvaged for him. The shrill ring of the office phone dragged Miss Stanley away. She answered it by reaching over the counter and picking up. She mouthed something at Edward before putting the phone down.

"Edward Cullen, they would like to see you now."

Edward stood up, having pressed a random button on his phone to preoccupy himself but slide his phone in a pocket, any pocket would do, and strode in, with a little strut - just a little to prove that he really was going to get the job to the other three candidates left waiting in the waiting room. He saluted Miss Stanley as he walked in and pushed open the door as if he was at home. He was at home. This was all he ever wanted.

He didn't feel intimidated at all by the five partners sitting on a row in front of him. The oldest sat in the middle, and from him, the people grew younger-looking until both ends where both looked as if they had just finished high school.

"Mr Cullen, please take a seat."

"Thank you."

Edward took the seat, which was under a dim spotlight, where he was ready for attack by the entire panel in front of him. It had been harder when he was interviewing for college at Cambridge. Although he never got in, the thing itself was nerve-wracking. More so, than this. He hadn't gotten into Cambridge being scared of the interview. He learnt from his mistakes. He was going to get this job by being confident.

"So - …"

"New Message Notification from Bella Swan: Come home in your suit. I like a man in uniform."

Edward's face flushed. His hands went for his pockets but suddenly his phone was nowhere to be found. He fingers tried to reach every pocket simultaneously even if it was impossible.

"I'm so sorry, um, - …"

He felt a buzz. A feeling of dread.

"New Message Notification from Bella Swan: I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen, ready to be judged, bad boy."

"New Message Notification from Bella Swan: Then you can take me to the room and do me anyway you want."

"New Message Notification from Bella Swan: I don't care how, but I like it how you whisper my rights every time you thrust."

Edward was trying desperately to find his phone. The situation was growing more and more mortifying. Why was his phone speaking? Or worse, reading his texts? Should he pass it off as if it wasn't his own? He could see some amused looked as he reached in his pockets on the inside of his suit jacket.

"New Message Notification from Bella Swan: I bet you are so horny that you're hiding your erection from the rejects who aren't going to get the job. Reply, baby, I want to - ..."

Edward found his phone and promptly turned it off. He knew how to do that with his phone. He dropped his phone back into his pocket and looked at the floor. Edward knew how to spell embarrassment since his first grade spelling bee but he had never felt it as strongly as he had now. He felt sick, and he knew that for the rest of his life, if he ever had an erection, thinking of this moment would make him go flaccid in zero to sixty.

He didn't blame Bella. She didn't know. God, she didn't know. Edward felt like killing her, but he didn't blame her. It was his stupid fault for letting Carlisle replace his trusty phone with a blabbermouth. He would never live this down. If Emmett ever knew, God forbid. Emmett could never know.

There was a painful silence where Edward knew that everyone on the interview panel was judging him. He knew that he had lost every chance he had for the job, all because of some dirty texts that his girlfriend had sent him innocently. Oh, the irony.

"So, you know a person's rights?" someone asked, with humour in their tone. "All of it?"

Edward recited it, and answered his interviews questions beautifully with his charismatic flair. They nodded with some sort of impressiveness that they couldn't place a flaw on. They argued back, as lawyers did, but Edward knew his responses. He had been practising his whole life for this job. He was supposed to get the job today, but nothing was all it seemed. Edward didn't seem to feel the pressure of being rejected for the job anymore and relaxed. He knew that he was going to be turned down, so what was the point with being nervous? It wasn't going to take back the first two minutes of the interview where he couldn't get to his phone quick enough and all of his dirty secrets (quite literally) came out.

Edward didn't walk out, with his neck coiled in, like the people before him who realised that they had a grilling. He walked out, despite his humiliation, with his head held high. His chest was slightly puffed out, and he looked smart. As soon as he was in his car, though, he wanted to cry regardless of who saw him and how manly he wanted to be. His dream was sliding through his hands, along with the bouquet for Bella, the proposal, wedding and honeymoon.

Edward never told Bella about what happened because it would have made her cry.

With laughter.

And say something like, "Oh, Edward! If only you were more technologically aware!"

At which point, Edward would have strangled her and ran away. Edward didn't want to particularly go to prison for twenty-five to life, so he just kept it a secret. He told Emmett, even though he knew Emmett would laugh. He didn't. He was devastated for Edward too.

Edward ended up getting the job, though. In a week's time, he received a phone call from Miss Stanley informing him that he had gotten the job. Out of shock, he asked her why.

She snickered down the phone, "They were really impressed with how you handled the situation, like despite your girlfriend sexting you, you were able to remain cool and collected and answer questions. They like that kind of level-head."

"Oh." Edward replied, "Well, -…"

"Bye, bad boy." The line went dead.

Edward tried to laugh it off. He tried to. But he couldn't. He just hid under his bedcovers until an angry Bella ripped them off and told him to get up.

To this day, Bella still doesn't know and Jessica Stanley still calls Edward 'bad boy' every day at work.

I know the iPhone 4S is not out yet, and this idea is based from an ad by Apple, but the principle of it is hilarious. Siri is basically your personal assistant on your phone and you get to ask it questions, and it will read out your texts (according to the end of this advert) so, I just used that principle to write this. I realise that this "text message" thing is available on other phones, but it was the iPhone 4S (which is due to come out) that really inspired this story.

Would be funny if it happened in real life. Not for Edward, but like for the interview panel.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this.

Becky x.