His Cimmerian View
Disclaimer: All the Twilight stuff belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. TeamAllTwilight, and me WeeKitty are co-writing this story. We would like to say thank you to the BETA's: Jess2002, and MustangMel1968. Big thanks to Sarah, Lovinmybabyz4, and Jessica J., for pre-reading it.
Chapter 1: Through His Eyes
"For your next assignment remember to use correct grammar. I want full sentences, punctuation, and use capital letters where needed. This assignment is a. . ."
Ring. . .Ring
I am interrupted by the class bell telling the students that the class is over. I look to see half the class trying to make a swift exit. Fuck! They just don't learn! They wouldn't be coming to summer school if they would just do their work and use some patience. "Back to your seats," I yell as I switch off the projector. "I have not excused you yet, sit back down, now!"
I ignore all the groans and slam my hand on the table to silence the room. "Now that I have your attention again, I want a five thousand word essay on any story of your choice. Once you choose a story, you will submit to me the title of the book. You will use that story and change something about it. Add or take out something that would change the story if it were yours. Think about which part you would change. It can be anything, but explain to me, in writing, what you're changing, and why. You then have four weeks to fully write out your changes; how they would affect the story, and the outcome of your changes. This will count for fifty percent of your final grade. You could pick Wuthering Heights, making Catherine a nicer person. You could show her as being less spiteful and arrogant or you could change her life by having her marry Heathcliff. Maybe Heathcliff decided to fight for her to have and keep her. Then show how those changes affect the story. By all means, use creativity in your story choice, reaching beyond even the example I showed you today. On your way out hand in your quiz sheet; you are now excused."
I watch them come up and place their sheets on my desk. It's the second week of the summer holiday, and I am already regretting agreeing to teach summer classes. I am teaching the English classes for those who have not received enough credits or are falling too far behind to graduate.
I have gotten to know most of the class, but there is one or two I'm still not familiar with yet; like this girl who is now in front of me. She is one of the youngest students in the class, and according to her records; she still has a year to go in high school. She is quiet and shy, doesn't talk much in class, and likes to stay hidden. She wears that hoodie all the time, and never removes the hood from her head. I think I will speak with her soon to see how she is getting along.
I love books, and have always loved to read. Becoming an English teacher was the best choice of a career for me. I get great enjoyment from teaching, but there are some students who make me regret being a teacher. Where that one girl is quiet, does the work I ask of her and is clearly here to learn, I have some students who have so much money, they assume they can skate by and buy their way into graduation. Then, there are the flirters, who think they can sleep their way to graduation. No one will sleep or pay their way through my class, ever!
The flirting bothers me more than the people who throw money around. If it is not the trampy girls, it is their mothers. Sometimes it is a combination of both the student flirting and Dads throwing money around. I hate when I have to deal with it all, but I bite my tongue and nicely inform them of the way things are, and how they will never be. It only took the first week of classes this summer to show people that my class runs my way only. There are two choices, my way or the highway. I will fail students who deserve it, and have before; I don't care who their parents are.
I rub my hands across my face; it's already six in the evening. I had eight full classes today, and I am so glad to be getting out of here. On Fridays and Mondays, I have eight classes. On the other days, I only have six. Today is Friday; I am just about to leave when I hear the door.
"I'm sorry to bother you teach, but couldya' look at this for me?"
Oh, for the love of God! At least a dozen times already today I have had to deal with flirters; and here is the number one most horrid culprit of the flirts I deal with. I rub my eyes, and look up. Leaning over my desk, with her fake double D's all but hanging out of her shirt, stands Lauren Mallory. Her shirt must be two sizes too small, and she is batting her eyes at me.
"You gave me an I for my grade; I don't even know what the I means. I think you made a mistake. Perhaps we can work it up to an A?" She asks suggestively, as she moves her hand up her body.
"Miss Mallory, the only reason you received an I was because you had addressed the assignment to me personally. Your assignment was to write a letter to a soldier. The I stands for "incomplete". In order to give you an F, which it deserved, you would have had to try to do the actual assignment. Instead, you wrote me a note telling me what you would like to personally do to my body. After that inappropriate stunt, there is no way that you will be earning an A; not even if you actually do the assignment. The absolute best you can obtain will be a C. Now, for the last time, get off my desk and go home. Start doing the work I assign to you, or you will fail." I let out a sigh as she looks at me dumbly. "Miss Mallory, you only have two months to get this right. Stop this nonsense and flirting, or you won't be graduating and heading to college. If you come to me pulling one of these stunts again, I will fail you. Do you understand?" I say to her, as if I am talking to a toddler.
"But I could help you with any problem. . ."
Her words are cut short by the opening of the door. I see one of the night cleaning staff coming in. Thank goodness, saved by the janitorial service. Miss Mallory seems to think I will have an affair with her. She is clearly delusional. Don't get me wrong, I know it happens. I personally know of some professors, who give better grades for certain "accommodations," but I will never be one of those teachers. Miss Mallory, or anyone else for that matter, will only pass my class by doing the work, and doing it well.
"I am sorry to interrupt Professor Masen, would you like me to come back later on?" I watch as the cleaning staff girl lingers in the doorway.
Lauren huffs loudly. "Yes, you stupid. . ."
I jump up cutting her off. "No, come in please." I give her a nod as she comes in. "Miss Mallory, she has a job to do, and I have had enough of this. Your grade is now an F. You can just repeat the class again as far as I am concerned. Third time is a charm, or so they say."
"What? Please no, don't, please…I tried hard, but my dad went ape-shit that I failed again. Please, I will stop, and do the work, please?" She tries giving me those sad, puppy eyes. I laugh to myself, they don't work on me. None of the cutesy, girly shit works on me anymore, I am immune.
"Fine, you have an F right now. I guess that means you have to work four times as hard as anyone else in this class to try and pass. Starting now," I say and motion her to leave. She nods, and leaves the classroom.
I look up to see the cleaning person has just about finished the classroom. "Don't touch my board! It has work on it, and I need it for Monday's class," I say. I am looking at her, but she doesn't acknowledge me at all. Fucking women are all the same, either on your ass like white-on-rice or stuck up. I count to ten to get my temper under control, before moving over to her. I touch her arm, making her jump and bang into the table.
I notice the fear she automatically shows. "I am sorry. . .um, sorry, did you want something Professor Masen?" She asks, taking the ear buds out of her ears. I can hear words coming from the ear buds; she must be listening to a book. At least it's not that raunchy music most of these kids are listening to.
I see she is still waiting for me to tell her what I want, so I clear my throat.
"Please don't touch my whiteboards. I need them kept like they are for Monday. The last time I put up a note to not clean them, but they were wiped clean and washed anyway. Just leave them alone if there is writing on them and I will manage it myself, okay?" I ask, as she nods her head. I am struck by the worry in her deep brown eyes, so I smile slightly as I gather my things and leave the room.
I don't know why I do this shit during the summer. I work at the University of Washington and have been a professor there, in the English department, for four years. I am one of the youngest professors at UW; having just turned twenty-eight. Three years ago, I started doing English summer classes for the Seattle school district. I help shape all the rejects, and failing students. I love teaching and I love literature, I suppose that is why I agreed to teach this summer program. At least it is held here on campus. High school buildings are not a favorite of mine, by any means.
Back in high school, I was not the popular choice of the girls. Around my senior year I started getting noticed more and more. I dated a few girls around the end of high school, and there were a few in college. For the most part, those weren't serious relationships, and ended as quickly as they started. I found as I became more desirable to the opposite sex, that they either wanted me for my looks, my money, or both. Sadly, I have met my fair share of the one's that were just after my money. It crushed me when I found out I was being described as boring. I now have no desire for a relationship, as they bring nothing but pain. I am a firm believer that there is no woman out there for me.
In college I met a woman, and fell in love with her. I thought she was everything, but I found out that I was nothing more than a meal ticket for her. Things between Tanya and I ended on a bad note, and I haven't allowed myself the freedom of trying again. You know the old saying: "shit on me once, shame on you, shit on me twice, shame on me"? Well I learned my lesson; I was never going to carry that shame. After that, I pretty much gave up dating at all.
However, I am a man and have needs, so I now pay for those needs to be met. So off I go to Il Mio Amore. It's a high-end club that meets the needs of people in certain lifestyles in Seattle. The club is owned by Aro Volturi, and every month I pay him eight thousand dollars. That payment allows me the pleasure of having three hours, twice a week with one of the girls of my choice. Yes, it is prostitution; however, I have no worries of unwanted attachments.
I have been doing this for the past four years. I've been lucky to keep the same girls at my service, not that anyone of them knew it. Aro's club is one of the best, and he keeps his playthings drug and disease free. There are very stringent guidelines for the testing process, not only for the girls, but the clients as well. Every six months as a client, you must see the club doctor, who draws your blood himself. The playthings are tested monthly, and results are shown to me before each visit.
Each of the rooms at the club is set up to meet each of the clients' needs or desires. The girls chosen for each time are aware of what will take place inside the room before it happens. If there is any apprehension, Aro would not allow them to be involved. The girls are well-protected and have many ways of calling for help if needed. No one can see inside the room, however there is a listening device, and if a girl needs help she is able to safe word. If a gag is something a client wants, then the girl is outfitted with a buzzer.
The girls I work with are all on a safe word system with me as well as green, yellow, and red. When I first came to Aro, I was interested in the fact that he could provide me with a submissive-type girl. I have rules, and Aro has made sure each of the four girls I use know them. My rules are in no way out there, but I am clear on the things I do and don't want. The girls must wear a blind fold; I will never allow them to see me. I want to be in total control, hence the domination. No kissing on the mouth or touching me, unless I have told them to do so. As for the sex, it changes depending on what has been happening in my life.
There are times when I am stressed, and need to fuck hard and fast. There are other times when I like to tease and enjoy a lot of foreplay first. But everything I do, has been pre-arranged with the girl. I would never be brutal, or hurt someone. Just because all the women in my personal life have used and abused me, doesn't mean I will abuse anyone else. I am not like them.
When I set this all up, Aro went through pictures of the girls that fit my specifications. Initially I picked eight different women from the portfolio. He met with each of the women and described to them my requirements and desires. He explained that it was extremely important to me to remain anonymous. It took a month of negotiations, mainly because I did not want the girls to see me. I would rather they didn't learn my identity. I wanted no surprises outside of the club. I knew that there would be a decent chance some of the girls could be students on the campus of UW. The last thing I want is to pay for sex from a student, and have her waltz into my classroom.
My list was quickly narrowed down to the four I see now. I like that Aro treats his playthings well, most of them take home sixty-five percent of their earnings. Some of the girls could be richer than me by now. I know that some people wonder why I don't just pick up a random girl. I mean I am good-looking enough and get plenty of offers, but that leads to stalkers, or them coming back wanting more. Also, it isn't like I can take them home, tie them up, fuck them how I like, and toss them out. I know the cops would be at my door before the sun is up. This way I know the girl knows the deal, and is enjoying it as much as me. Most of the time, whoever I am with on a club night, doubles me in orgasms. I have yet to have one of the girls I am with call red.
Mondays and Fridays mean club visits for me, so on those mornings, I call Aro to let him know what I'll need for the evening. In turn, he sends me an email by noon, telling me which girl and the number of the room we'll occupy for the evening. On the first Friday of each month, I drop by his office to pay him. I sometimes like to dabble in role play, and when I have a desire to indulge in that particular activity, I just let them know what I want, and it is set up for me. There is never any negotiating the price; I pay a flat rate no matter what I want from the girls. I like that the girls are always in the room awaiting my arrival. They are always blindfolded before I enter, and I am grateful to the highly-paid security guards that help prep the girls. Everyone knows me by Anthony at the club. It is my hope that by using my middle name, my true identity will be less likely to be discovered. Tonight I will be seeing Sally. Sally is twenty-seven and tall, with naturally red hair, and a very curvy body. She wears about a size sixteen, but her curves are a huge turn-on for me.
After paying Aro, I make my way to room thirteen. I love this room; it is set up much like you would see in any standard BDSM playroom. I see that Garrett is awaiting my arrival.
"Anthony, how are you my friend?" He asks, offering his hand to me.
"Very well Garrett. Is Sally ready for me this evening?"
Garrett nods, and I step inside the small changing room that is provided outside of each room. I quickly change into the black, button fly jeans waiting for me, and nothing else. I hang up my clothes, and hand Garrett the usual tip I give him each visit. He opens the door for me, and I step inside.
Everything is perfect. Sally is kneeling on the floor, her knees shoulder-width apart. I can see she is clean-shaven, just the way I like my girls. Her long, red hair is tied back in a French braid down her back. Her leather blindfold is covering her eyes, and I can see it is a snug fit, not allowing any light in. I move over and stand directly in front of her.
"Well Sally, you look very delectable kneeling there waiting for my cock. Would you like to suck my cock? It's hard for your hot, little mouth."
I watch her, knowing she will not mess up. I still love testing her. Sally would be a Dom's dream come true if she were a full-time submissive. I, however, only enjoy this submissive side when I want hard and fast pleasure. I know that I will enjoy the five or six orgasms I will give her. I know how good her mouth feels, and I can't wait to rock my hardness down her throat. I stroke my hand across the top of her head, and grab her long braid.
"You may use your hands to free my cock. I am going to deeply fuck your hot, little mouth. My cock will be down your throat on each and every stroke. What is your color, my little Sally-slave?"
"Green," she replies.
I pull her hair and bring her higher on her knees, so that her mouth is at the perfect angle. Her hands find the buttons on my jeans and she quickly opens them wide. Her hands do not touch my cock yet, just work the jeans open so her hot mouth can find my cock. Once she tugs them a little, my cock springs free and smacks her on the chin. I wrap her long braid around my hand, at the same time her ruby red lips open around the tip of my cock. Without any warning, I thrust deeply into her waiting mouth. I love that she has no gag reflex, and I am able to really thrust in. Pulling her braid taut, I pull her mouth toward me, as I thrust. Every third stroke, I hold her tight against me for a count of three. I have her face so deeply buried against my groin, her nose is flattened down. One thing I really enjoy about Sally is the fact I can outright fuck her face.
For twenty-eight, I have wonderful stamina and I am able to recover quickly. I was seriously in need of a release tonight. After almost fifteen minutes, I finally shoot my wad down her throat. Sally licks me clean and when I pull her away she licks her lips as well. "What a good little cock-sucker you are. I think I will have to have you stand now, my little Sally-slave." I watch her as she moves to her feet. Some people would call her fat, but her curves are kick ass. Sally does have some thickness here and there, but she is proportioned wonderfully. I take her hand and lead her over to the bench across the room. I help direct her onto the bench, and hand her the straps for her to hold onto, they will help hold her in place. Sally knows what I want, and I know she likes it from the smile on her face. I remove my jeans all the way, and move to the end of the bench. I place each of her feet into the leather straps that will help her keep her legs bent at the right angle. I pull her ass down the bed a little so her cheeks are hanging off just the right amount. I spend a little time pinching her rose-colored, peaked nipples. I know how much she enjoys things like nipple clamps and I grab the pair that is sitting out waiting for me to use on her. After I twist her nipples roughly, to help prepare them for the bite of the alligator clamp, I let them grip her pebbled skin. Once I have the clamps on her nipples, I drag the attached chains down and let them drag through her moistness. I lay a chain in the crease between her labia and thigh on each side of her glistening pussy. I know when I start thrusting into her the thrusts will lightly tug on the chains. I can see she is ready for me. I take a hold of my cock and slap it down hard against her clit. Once I have teased her several times, I move the head to her opening.
"I plan to fuck your pussy for the next two hours and seventeen minutes. You may orgasm at will. I want to hear you while I fuck you. It will be hard and rough, and I will not stop until I get my fill. What is your color?"
"Green," she moans out as I pound into her as hard as I can.
I wake with a jolt, as my alarm blares out at six in the morning. I head down to my gym to work out. It's Saturday, so no school today. On the days I don't go to Aro's, I work at my restaurant. I have a decent work crew, and I enjoy the fact that I can trust my key employees. I bought the place because it held happy memories for me.
My childhood was very jaded; but when I had some good times and happy memories with my mother, they seemed to happen here. My parents and I would come here twice a week to eat. After my father passed away, my mother and I would come here every once in a while. My mother didn't have many good days, so going anywhere was something that didn't happen often.
I opened up my restaurant, Midnight Sun, about two years ago. When I found out that the previous owner was closing down, I knew I had to buy it. I don't know if it was to keep a hold of the happy memories that I had here, or the hope that one day my mom would come back and eat here. My chest hurts just thinking about it. Arriving at the restaurant and seeing the place that I have kept the same as it has always been, makes me feel better.
I head to my office to check on the paper work. I've been here for about two hours, when I hear the staff start to come in. Everyone who knows me, knows when the office door is shut, I am to be left alone. So, I am surprised as the door opens and a young woman walks in.
"Hi, sorry to interrupt you, but I think I left my phone in here yesterday. You're Mr. Masen, the owner, right?" I raise my head and nod at her. She is just like every other woman out there. As she stands here eye-fucking me, I clear my throat. Her eyes snap back to my face, and she puts on what I am sure she thinks is a seductive smile. When I don't feed into her attempt to look appealing, she reaches her hand forward to shake mine. "Katie, I'm Katie. It's so good to meet you Mr. Masen."
I grind my teeth together to try to restrain myself from shouting at her. "Katie what is your cell number?" I say in a rather harsh-sounding voice. She blushes, grabs my pen from my hand and writes it on a piece of paper on my desk. She stands there watching me, as I grab the office phone and dial her number. I sigh as the ringing sounds come from inside her pocket. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
"One, do not come in to my office without knocking or without being invited in. Two, if the door is closed that means that even if the world is ending, and aliens have invaded the earth do not fu…" I swallow the swear word back, "bother me. The only person who I allow to do that is Taylor; if you have any issues take them to him. Third, and most importantly, I don't date and I am far from interested in playing flirting games. I will also never date you, or any other girl who works for me. Now, you clearly have your phone, and I am busy. If this happens again you will be out of a job. Get to work; you can start by completely scrubbing the bathrooms clean. Get busy, and close the door on your way out!"
I hate when we have to hire new staff. It doesn't take long for people to learn the rules, and most are smart enough to listen to the warnings that I know they are given when they are hired by Taylor. I usually have more males working here than females, because there tends to be less drama with men. Out of my staff of twenty-five, only six of them are female at the moment. I find that most of the women I have working for me are loyal, though. I think it helps that most of them are married and have families of their own. I am really glad that situations like the one with Katie don't happen often.
I call Taylor and Eric into my office, using the intercom system. Taylor was the acting manager, when the previous owner sold the business to me. I kept him on, and he acts as my general manager. He is also the maître d, during the evening shifts. Eric is the head chef and also a valued employee who came with the purchase of the business. When they enter, we run though this week's specials. Eric finishes his side of the meeting first to return to the kitchen. Once he is gone, Taylor and I go through schedules and job duties for the week. After we finish, I head off to stock the bar and take inventory. Taylor leaves the office to deal with the wait staff, and I know Eric already has his kitchen staff in shape for the coming week before our meeting.
I was insistent on letting Taylor in on the situation that took place with Katie earlier. He is stationing her far from any area I will be working tonight. I have decided that I will be in charge of the bar this evening and therefore Taylor put Katie as a table busser; they never have any reason to come near the bar. I want to keep her far away from me as I can.
The night goes well, and I am able to keep away from Katie. I catch her looking at me now and again, but she keeps her thoughts and hands to herself. All of the tips I receive when I work a shift goes into a big jar that I split among the staff each Sunday. The wait staff has to give twenty-five percent of their tips to the kitchen staff. There is never any arguments about the tips. I decided that since it's all of us working as a team that everyone should be treated fairly. This makes the employees happy and it seems to work well. All of my staff is paid extremely well. In restaurants, most wait staff earn just a few measly dollars each hour. My wait staff make between eight and fifteen dollars an hour, plus tips. The three people who do not receive any form of tips are Taylor, Eric, and myself. I give Taylor and Eric a large monthly bonus from the profits; it is their form of tips.
It's late when I finally get to bed; I am not looking forward to tomorrow. I hate the first Sunday of the month, that's when I make myself go to family dinner at the Cullen's. My father passed away when I was eight. My parents had no other family, so it was just me and mom after that. When I was ten, my mom started working for Esme Cullen at her interior design company.
Fuck my chest hurts, I miss her so much! I knew growing up she was not like other Moms. She had good days where she was really happy; she'd be bouncing, her excitement and joy obvious to anyone who saw her. Then there were days that were bad. When she had bad days, they were just that, bad. She wouldn't get out of bed, and would shut me out. Sometimes she would eat, but always forgot about me, as if I didn't exist. Most days she was kind of in-between neither happy nor sad.
Just a few months before my sixteenth birthday, she got really bad. Her bad day turned into more of a bad month, and before I knew it she had to be hospitalized. Since I had no family, the state put me into a temporary foster care home. I was there for about two months before I was told I was being moved to a permanent home with a real family. I was surprised to find that was Esme's home. A few days after the move, Esme and Carlisle told me that my mom gave them guardianship of me. I was heartbroken, and ran away to try and find my mom. When I found her, I begged her to let me come back home. I told her that I would look after her. She called Esme to come and get me, as I cried for her to let me stay. I will never forget the parting words she said to me that day. "I am leaving, Edward. I need a fresh start; I need to get away from this place and its memories." Before I could tell her I would go with her, and that I loved her, she carried on. "I am leaving you with Esme and Carlisle. They will be good for you, where I am not. I will only bring you pain and hardship, I'm no good for you. I promised to always do what was best for you, and it is best that I leave. Please promise me to always think of Esme and Carlisle as your family, they are all you have now. I will promise you something as well; I promise you will never see me again. Goodbye Edward." With that, she turned and walked away. I haven't seen her since.
Esme and Carlisle were very welcoming, but they already had a family and it was difficult for me to feel like I was a part of it. Esme couldn't have children, but they had adopted Esme's niece and nephew after the death of their parents. Jasper was nice to me and we got along well, but Rose did not like me at all. I never felt welcomed by Rose; as a matter of fact, she went out of her way to treat me like an outsider.
I started going to their school, where I met and befriended Alice and Emmett. Alice started dating Jasper the following spring and they have now been married for seven years. Alice owns her own dress shop, and Jasper is a Psychologist. Emmett started dating Rose when we all went to the same college, and they have been married for five years now. Surprisingly enough, Emmett became a lawyer. It's definitely not what you would think of when you see him or listen to his childish behavior. Rose became a mechanic and owns her own auto repair shop.
I have been a part of the Cullen Family for almost twelve years now. I am more comfortable with the guys than I am the women. Each year I seem to pull away more and more from them all. I really just wish they would let me go, and leave me alone. I know they won't, so I try and keep the peace by coming to dinner once a month.
It's the only time I am in the girl's company, most of the time I can avoid them. I only answer phone calls from them once a week, and even then I grit my teeth. Esme always tells me how tired I sound, and how worried she is about me working so much. Esme is a loving and kind soul and I know she only wants what she thinks is best for me, but I want to be left alone. Yet I can't break her heart, and she is always telling me it makes her sad to only see me occasionally. When Alice calls, it is usually to critique me on what I wear, and to try to hook me up with one of her friends. She gets very angry when I refuse to date anyone she attempts to set me up with. She reminds me that I should be a better friend to her, and remove the stick from my ass. It really pisses me off! I have told her several times over the last five years that I am happy with my life, and I don't want her setting me up. She went as far as assuming that I was gay, and actually tried to set me up with some male friend of hers from the design world who was clearly out of the closet. Now she invites one of her single friends to dinner each time and tries to play match maker. It is all very stupid and childish, and if it doesn't stop, I will stop showing up. Today, of course, will be the same thing.
I see the guys once a week at the restaurant; they come in and eat dinner with me. I take their calls all the time and speak to them about three times a week on average. Like I said, I'm much closer to them. I just don't trust girls, not even the ones in my family, aside from Esme. Rose and Alice both used me to get closer to the men they wanted, and as a result, I don't trust them at all. The guys give me the space I need, and they all know not to bring up the same load of shit that the girls bring up. I know they are worried about me too, I can see it in their eyes, but they don't hound me like the girls do.
I arrived at the door precisely at six with three bouquets of flowers, one each for the three witches, a bottle of wine, and bottle of whiskey. I say a prayer that nine will come fast, so I can leave, and then I knock on the door.
"Edward dear, how are you?" Esme asks, pulling me into her arms and hugging me. I hand her bouquet of Red Amaryllis, and the bottle of wine, but say nothing. "Edward you look so tired you really need to take better care of yourself. Do you need me to come and clean your apartment. . ."
"Esme dear, let the boy come in and have a seat." Thank God Carlisle cut her off, the nagging was about to start already. I smile handing him the bottle of whiskey, and head to the family room to find the other two witches.
There sits Rose and Alice talking, or gossiping is more accurate, I am sure. I hand Alice the Kiwi flowers.
"Oh Edward, these are so beautiful! Thank you."
I cut her off by turning my back to her and looking at Rose. I hand Rose the white roses. "Yeah, thanks Edward," Rose says in a bored tone.
I stand up and take a step back. "If you ladies will excuse me, I am going to join the guys."
"Edward, I want to talk to you about something before you leave tonight."
I rub my hands over my face, and take a deep breath. "Sure Alice, as long as it does not include the words, 'I have this friend, or I want you to meet a friend of mine'."
I arch my brow at her. "But come on Edward, you'll really like her, she's just right. . ." I walk away before she can finish what she is saying.
"Alice, I don't understand why you even try with that asshole, he is so not worth it. Why would you want to hook anyone you consider a friend up with him anyway? He is a jerk and I'm sure a lousy fuck to boot. Who would really want him?" Rose barks out, making sure she is loud enough to be heard. Fuck, it's going to be a long night.
We set down at the table for dinner, the conversion flows as we talk about different things. Conversation flows well until Alice brings up the Autumn Dance. "So Edward, are you coming to the dance this year? Do you already have a date in mind?"
I groan looking at her like she is clearly out of her mind. "For fu. . ." I quickly put my fist in my mouth to stop the swear word from coming out. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I clear my throat, take a drink and set my glass back down. "Alice, it has only just turned July. That dance is not until the end of October. I don't even know if I am going at this point."
"Oh, Edward, you have to go! You've been working far too much these last few years. You're going to burn yourself out. I am so worried about your health. Have you even been looking after yourself? I think I should come by your place and give it a cleaning, and make you some dinner."
I turn to face Esme as she is talking. "Esme, I really don't want you to do that. My place is clean, and I eat at the restaurant." She gives me a despairing look.
"You and that stupid restaurant, I swear. Edward, you really don't need to work there, you own it. The place is not even in a good part of town, you should just sell it and be done with it," Rose says in a bored tone.
I place the fork down on the table; clearly I am done eating now. "Because it is important to me, and you know damn well exactly why it is!" Rose glares at me.
"Wait 'till I tell you what happened at work yesterday, you're never going to believe it," Emmett quickly says, trying to change the topic.
"Anyway, as I was saying. I have this friend, Siobhan," Alice says not even to stopping to let Emmett talk.
"Oh, Siobhan, yes she is such a lovely woman. She is so sweet and nice, how is she doing?" Oh great, Esme is helping Alice out, yay me!
"She is doing really well. She mentioned to me that she really wants to attend the Autumn Dance, but doesn't have a date. I thought Edward could take her, they have so much in common. Siobhan thinks it a great idea, she remembers him form the Spring Dance." Alice has a shit-eating grin on her face as Esme claps her hands.
"She's too good for the likes of that asshole. Let her find someone else; she can do so much better," Rose says while she continues to eat.
"ROSE," Esme says curtly. "I think this is great. She's really nice and just right for Edward. I love it; they'll have a great time."
I try not to start banging my head on the table; I am so frustrated. "I just don't think this a good idea. . ." Jasper can't even finish what he is saying before Alice cuts him off.
"Of course it's a great idea. I will call her in the morning and let her know that you want her to accompany you to the dance. I will also set up a time for you to take her to dinner tomorrow night. You can ask her properly then to be your date for the dance. It will be so romantic and wonderful. . ."
I have to put a stop to this, so raise my voice. "Alice! Firstly as I said, I do not know if I am going. Secondly, if, and I mean if, I go, I will be going alone like I do every year. Thirdly, ... I have told you this time and time again, back the hell off!"
She rolls her eyes at me. "Edward we're best friends." Like hell you are, if you're my best friend then thank fuck I don't have any enemies! "I know what kind of girl you would like. Goodness, I just want to see you happy."
I slam my hand down hard on the table, and everything shakes. I can see she is angry and I hear her huff as she crosses her arms over her chest.
"JUST FUCKING STOP ALICE! Just stop, I don't want your help, and we are not best friends. Alice, shit! All of you need to hear this and know that it's true. I will not be coming here again for dinner if you can't stop this. I have not accepted or asked for your help in finding a date or a significant other. In five years of Alice trying, when have I said yes? I don't want your help, and I am telling you to stop, or you will lose me completely. I don't want your help!" I look around the table at each of them.
"Yeah Edward, it's been five years, isn't it about time you got over it and moved on?" Rose asks, looking right at me. I know what she is about to bring up, and I don't want to go through this again.
"Fuck this, I'm going. I really do not need this," I say jumping up, and heading out. As I open the door, Carlisle grabs my arm. "I am sorry about that. Please forgive my language, I never speak like that. I am very sorry. . ." he holds up his hand cutting me off.
"I am sorry son, really I am. I don't know why they keep at this, but you've been more than patient with them. I'll have a word with them, yet again, about this. I will talk to you on Wednesday." I nod my head a walk out. I really wish I could get over what happened five years ago, but I can't, it's there in the back of my mind all the time.
It's almost nine by the time I get to the restaurant. I have bad heartburn. I head to the kitchen to grab some Prilosec. I've been getting a lot of heartburn these last few weeks, so keep Prilosec everywhere I can. I head out to the main area and start waiting tables. I hope that the medicine will kick in soon.
A/N: We want to say thank you for joining us on this journey into the troubled mind of a man with a dark view on women, and life in general. We fully intend to update every other week, however you may get the chapters faster than that. There is a very wonderful banner made for this story, by the talented SoapyMayhem on our profile.
What do you think of Edwards's tainted view on women? There is much more to learn about how jaded his view is. Can anyone guess what character Bella is? We would love to hear your thoughts. All Reviews will be emailed a teaser for the next chapter.