Artificial Sweetener
Chapter Six
Edward's hand tightens around Bella's fingers and he pulls her to a stop. Instinctively, Bella looks up at his face, and her stomach drops when she sees that the relaxed expression—one might have even called it an affectionate expression—that's been on his face has now been replaced with sudden anger and irritation. She tries not to panic when he takes a half-step forward and places his shoulder in front of hers, almost like he's pushing her out of the way.
A deep laugh draws Bella's attention away from Edward, and instantly she recognizes the man and woman who are staring back at them: the couple that was eating dinner with Edward the night she met him at the Jazz Bar. The man has traded his suit and tie for a beat-up pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt, and his tanned arms are covered in tattoos, some of them so vulgar that Bella feels a blush creep up her neck. The woman's purple dress is short but still classy, still elegant somehow.
The man pushes away from where he was leaning against the wall and drops a cigarette on the ground, and the woman casually shoots her leg out, using the heel of her black pump to snuff it out for him. "Doesn't your intern know how to relay a message?"
Edward rolls a shoulder. "No, no. Lauren is quite organized. I got them all."
"And the documents we sent?" the woman says.
Edward blinks. "Do you mean the horribly desperate and ridiculously unfair edits that you tried to make to our contract? Yes, I got those, too."
"Desperate?" she snaps, reaching forward to tap the man's shoulder, as if there's anyway he could have misheard what Edward's just said.
"Unfair for who?" the man echoes. "It's my business we're talking about, not yours. I know what I have."
Edward shifts his weight, cutting off Bella's view of this tanned, tattooed, angry man. "You have nothing," he says. Behind his back, where the man can't see, he reaches out a hand to Bella. She slips her fingers into his, and he gives her a quick squeeze in return. He keeps talking, still holding her hand as if to reassure her that he has the situation under control, though Bella isn't so sure. "You have an independent record store that makes a profit during one month and goes into debt in the next. It's inconsistent, and I'm not interested."
"You were pretty damn interested last week," the tattooed man says.
Edward sighs and releases Bella's hand, moving it to rub at his eyes. As he does so, Bella peeks around his arm. The couple has moved forward so that only a few feet separate them from she and Edward, and the others who had been crowding around the bar's entrance are standing stiff and alert, waiting for a fight. Bella feels a flush roll over her body as she realizes that this could come to blows. Will Edward back down before fists start swinging? Is this dispute big enough to be the kind of guns-a-blazing, business-deal-gone-wrong story that she sees on the eleven o'clock news?
Edward clears his throat. "Sam. I thought we settled this at dinner. I thought you understood what my offer is."
Bella fiddles with the hem of her T-shirt, happy to finally have a name to match with the face.
"We're negotiating," Sam answers.
Edward shakes his head. "That's what I'm saying, Sam. I thought you understood that my offer is non-negotiable. All or nothing, how many times do I have to say it?"
"You skip out on this deal," Sam threatens, "and you can kiss your front-and-center shelf space goodbye."
"You realize that I'm a music producer," Edward says. "I don't need indie record stores to sell music for me. I have Amazon. Walmart. Best Buy. Spotify, iHeartRadio, Pandora, iTunes. I can get a CD on the shelves at fucking JC Penny if I want."
"You—"
"I'm still talking," Edward spits. "I don't want your business. I want your building. So either you sell me the whole store, one-hundred percent, or you get the fuck out of my voicemail box every goddamn day. I've told you that I'm not interested in investing in an indie record store. If you want my money—"
"Bullshit," Sam spits.
Edward waits to make sure Sam isn't going to interrupt again. "If you want my money, you'll sell me the whole business. One-hundred percent."
The woman crosses her arms. "Thirty percent, and you're a shareholder."
Edward crosses his arms, too, and Bella wonders if he's doing it subconsciously or if he's trying to make fun of her dramatics. "One hundred percent of the business or none at all," he repeats. "I'm an entrepreneur, Emily. I'm not an investor."
"Since when?" Sam bellows.
Emily tilts her chin up, staring straight at Edward's face, arms still crossed over her chest. "Relax, Sam," she says. "Edward's forgetting what other information we have on him."
Bella watches Edward's shoulders tense as he flexes his fingers at his sides. "What other information?"
Emily smirks. "I think you know. Something you'd rather . . . keep quiet." Bella can't be absolutely sure, but she's almost positive that Emily's eyes flicker in her direction for a brief moment.
"I don't take kindly to threats, Emily," Edward says softly. "Perhaps you'll be hearing from my lawyer."
After a few minutes of walking, and a few seconds of awkward hand-brushing as they wait for the crosswalk signs to let them through the heavy New-York-City traffic, Bella and Edward finally duck into a random building, both eager to fill the silence between them with a menu discussion and a, for Bella, a martini.
Edward holds the door open for Bella as they enter, and the hostess turns at the sound of the jingling bell above them. She grins at Bella and then quickly settles her gaze on Edward, blinking too much and showing way too many teeth.
For a split second, the nerves in her stomach tell Bella to flee.
You can have him, she imagines herself yelling to this girl as she runs back out the door. He's surrounded by giant tattooed men who want his money.
She glances up at Edward's face to find him completely ignoring the hostess, though, even when she asks him how many menus he'll need this evening.
"Just two, please," Bella answers for him, feeling a familiar warmth settle in her stomach as he looks at her. She makes her decision then. "It's our first date."
The hostess's shoulders fall, but she leads them to a quiet booth in the back of the restaurant anyways.
Edward takes the seat that faces the door and presses his back against the booth cushion. "I thought tomorrow was meant to be our first date," he says, raising his eyebrows.
Bella shrugs. "We keep saying we're not going on dates, but really we've been on, like, ten dates. We may as well just get the first one over with."
"Over with?" Edward frowns. "Not exactly the enthusiasm I like to hear from a woman I'm supposedly going on ten first dates with."
"Ten was a hyperbole." She grins, watching him fidget his hands and roll his shoulders nervously. "And I just meant that the term 'first date' has so much stress behind it, and this doesn't even feel like a first date anymore."
"What number date does it feel like?"
"Three."
"I would have said four," Edward says.
Instead of being grateful that Edward is playing along with her terrible flirting game, though, Bella's mouth speaks without her brain's permission: "Date number four is the sex date."
Edward's mouth twitches as he holds back a laugh, and Bella leans forward to rest her forehead in her hands.
The waitress saves her, much to Bella's relief. They order drinks and an appetizer because Bella never gets to eat dinner during a dinner work shift, but as soon as the waitress leaves again, the silence settles back in.
They let their eyes wander around the room awkwardly, and Bella wonders if perhaps Edward is hoping she won't ask, won't even mention the Sam-Emily-sidewalk incident.
But then, to Bella's surprise, Edward speaks: "Sam and Emily Uley don't have a lot of money. But they certainly have a lot of loyal . . . clients."
Bella tilts her head. "I don't follow you."
Edward bites his lip. "Think 'Italian mafia,'" he says. "But, like, modernized."
"The mafia with iPhones?"
Edward grins. "I'm glad you're making jokes. I was worried there for a minute."
"What do you mean?"
"I figured you'd get spooked or something." He shrugs. "I thought I'd turn around and you'd be gone."
"I don't scare that easy," she says, but deep down she knows the pit in her stomach is leftover fear from that sidewalk encounter. Then she remembers something that Emily said, and her mouth strikes again: "What did that woman mean?"
Edward stares at her, and Bella bites down on the inside of her cheek as she rethinks her very vague question.
"I mean," she adds, "the part about . . . you know, them knowing a secret about you."
Edward leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I'll tell you sometime," he says. "I promise. If you stick around, I'll tell you."
"You're being very cryptic," Bella says. "This might be our hundredth date, but you're still mostly a stranger to me. Secrecy isn't the best way to keep me close, Mr. Mason, CEO."
Edward's eyes squint with his smile. "I don't want to be a stranger to you anymore, Bella," he says, "but there's a lot to learn about me. If you're willing to take the time to learn it all."
Bella bites her lip. "Can I ask questions, though? During the getting-to-know-you part?"
"Of course."
The waitress pops back, sitting their glasses down so roughly that the ice jingles. "A few more minutes on the appetizer," she says, already walking away.
Edward locks his fingers together and rests his chin on his hands, waiting. His posture is patient, but his hands aren't; he's nervous, Bella realizes, that she'll just get up and leave right now.
Bella picks up her martini and bites the olive off of the toothpick. Staring at Edward over the rim of her drink, she takes a small sip. "Okay," she says. "First question. What made you notice me?"
Hello, everyone! I've been gone for quite a while; the weeks have not been kind to me, free-time wise. I was working ahead to plan for vacation, and then I went on vacation, and then I had to catch up from being on vacation.
I know this chapter is a little shorter than I usually post, but I really just wanted to get something up here for you guys.
Coming up in future chapters: Edward and Bella get to know each other, Edward's family enters, and Renee and Phil take a trip to Seattle.
As always, leave me a review if you'd like.
See you in Chapter Seven!