A/N: Well, this is a terrible idea. I definitely should not be writing, but screw it, right? Have fun with this fluffy, funny (hopefully), cutie patoot of a story.

Disclaimer: I own only my tablet and the song in my heart.

Bella Swan prided herself on being consistently punctual. In the nearly six years she had been working at Cullen's Fine Goods Emporium, she could count the number of times she had been late to work – without an excuse – on one hand. She was always, always, always on time, come hell or high water, with coffee in hand and a spring in her step. She cared about her job, and about the customers, but she especially cared about the people she worked for. And for that reason she was an exceptional employee.

She had been hired at Cullen's Fine Goods when she was just eighteen. It had been her first and only job, and her lack of experience was a hurdle she had been sure she wouldn't clear. She had been in and out of the general manager's office so many times that Rosalie had once joked that Bella saw her more than Emmett – her husband, and CFG's CFO – did. At the time, it had shocked Bella. Rosalie almost never joked. She was cool and collected, and before that comment, Bella could not recall seeing Rosalie smile… ever.

"I'm sorry," she had said, shifting uncomfortably in the chair facing Rosalie's desk. "I know I keep screwing up, and that I'm taking time away from your other duties when you have to correct me." She trapped her lower lip between her teeth, and her eyes focused on the wood grain in her boss's desk. She hated disappointing Rosalie, because Rosalie was scary. She frightened the crap out of Bella. Every time she heard her walkie-talkie crackle she jumped, anticipating the stern voice of her boss. Sometimes the call was just Mike, asking her to do some menial task, and sometimes it was her coworkers, asking pricing questions because Bella had a strangely good memory for the store inventory, but whenever it came alive with static, she had a split-second moment of fear that it would be Rose. And about two minutes ago, she had been right.

"Bella. Please look up," Rosalie instructed. Bella did so, and saw Rosalie staring at her intently. Her hands were folded under her chin and her elbows rested on the desk. There was a small furrow in her brow, but she didn't seem angry (at least Bella knew she didn't look the way she had when Bella had gotten scammed by a customer and had lost one hundred dollars), just concerned, which made Bella jittery. Perhaps this was the condolence meeting where they finally fired her for her apparent incompetence. "You do this thing, where you avoid eye contact when you're upset. It's incredibly distracting. I didn't mean to upset you with my joke."

"But I'm such an idiot! I knew I should have put the date on the hold slip, and I didn't. I was so concerned with making sure I did it myself, that I didn't wonder if I should ask someone for help." Bella had crossed her arms across her torso, holding herself together as she shifted again in the seat, bringing her left leg up to rest underneath the right. She was pretty much positive at this point that she was going to get fired; she was going to miss Esme, and Alice would be so disappointed in her for being unable to make it work. "I don't understand why you guys keep me around."

"Bella. You're a fine employee," she said softly, her tone full of kindness. Rosalie dropped her hands to rest palms down on the desk. "You make small, inconsequential mistakes. Everyone does. Not putting a start date on a hold slip is, in the grand scheme of the store, not hurting anyone. Jeremy did it last week and we didn't even mention it, we just put the date we realized it was missing on the slip." Her lips were twitching at the corners, like she was trying to smother a smile. She lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow at Bella, expectant.

Bella, smart girl that she was, took the bait.

"But… but! Why did I get called in, then?!" Now she was not only confused, but angry. Why should she be treated any differently than the other employees? Should she be fired for a small mistake that hadn't even been discussed with another employee? Was there some sort of wrongful termination case she could make? Bella was pre-law, she should know this. Rosalie just sat there, smiling at her. What was with her? Was she really so pleased to have an excuse to be rid of Bella? She had been so sure that she was an anomaly – doing things incorrectly or unacceptably to earn her boss's scorn, but now she was just upset that she was being unfairly targeted. Did Rosalie hate her that much? Why? She wanted her answers, dammit.

"Simple, really: we like you," Rosalie said bluntly, and allowed herself to smile then, and it illuminated the room. She now looked more like the young newlywed she was than an Icelandic supermodel like she usually did. She was softer, somehow, and her smile made Bella want to smile. Want to, mind you, if she weren't at that very moment confusing the ever-loving daylights out of the poor, disgruntled employee seated across from her, mouth agape in shock. "Don't look so surprised, you must have noticed?"

"No I really cannot say that I did." She had been absolutely positive of three things prior to this meeting: first, that she would never tire of the smell of the old books in the back of the store, second, that Rosalie Cullen nee Hale absolutely hated her, and third, that she was utterly and irrevocably in love with iced lattes. She was so incredibly sure that the woman across from her hated her that it had become an absolute truth, like death, taxes, and Alice's unwavering fashion advice.

"Well, Esme adores you. And whom Esme adores, Carlisle adores. They see how you are with the customers. You care. You take extra time to get them the best deal they can get, and you remember them next time they come in. Several of them will wait for you to be available to assist them, and you engage in memorable conversations with them. Esme loves it, and she loves you. She once told me that every time she talks to you her day becomes a little brighter. Your attitude is infectious, and you make people feel noticed and appreciated."

"But, I don't get it then," Bella said, scooting her chair closer to Rosalie's desk, leaning her forearms next to Rose's, and shaking her head. "Why am I always in here?"

"Precisely because we like you. You're a great employee. I need you to be perfect. We have plans for you, and we need to make sure that everyone knows that you're the best customer service rep we've got." Rosalie patted the back of Bella's hand, then tapped it with one finger to regain her attention, ducking her head down to plant herself in Bella's eye line. "We want to start you training the new hires. You've been here for almost a year, and I think it's time. Emmett just sent over a new batch of applications and he specifically requested you to train," she said confidently. The conviction in her voice was very hard to argue with.

"I… am very confused." Bella lowered her head again. Hadn't she been in this office for a reprimand? And instead she was being given more responsibility? Her entire view of Cullen's Fine Goods was crumpling. She couldn't decide if she was elated or apprehensive. Perhaps both? Cautious optimism, she decided, that was what she was feeling. If she was wrong about Rosalie, she was definitely wrong about being fired.

"Don't be. We love having you here, and we want you to stay with us through your schooling. We think adding a few responsibilities as we go – a new title, a raise or two – is the right incentive to make that happen." She turned her hand palm up under Bella's, and lifted their hands together in front of Bella's downcast eyes. "We're a team now, okay? Cullens and the Swan." Bella had finally smiled then, allowing herself to believe that she could be part of such a team.

And a team they had been for the five years since. Under Rosalie and Alice Cullen's tutelage, Bella had sprung out of her shell and learned to be comfortable at work. She joked with customers, allowing her dry sense of humor and blatant sarcasm run rampant. She and Emmett argued about sports, she went shopping with Alice, she had attended Rosalie's baby shower. Esme Cullen invited her to dinner with them at least once a week, and Carlisle was always finding books she'd like in the manuscript section of the store to give to her. She felt like one of the family, accepted and loved by people who more than deserved her love and respect in return. She was such a fixture at Cullen's Fine Goods that she barely even needed her name tag. Bella was the team lead, she made far more than any retail employee in the area, and she was a close, personal friend of the Cullen family. Esme even forced Bella to call her "Mom" once she had moved in with their daughter Alice two years ago.

It had been the natural thing to do: both of their leases were up, Alice hated her roommate, and Bella wanted to have actual walls instead of planting her bed in the center of the room. Most importantly, she loved Alice like her very own sister and from the day she had walked into Cullen's Fine Goods the two women had been inseparable. Something about that tiny woman just drew people in, and Bella had been no exception. Her bubbly spirit and unflappable loyalty had matched Bella's devotion and understated personality. They were like an old classic comedy team: slapstick and the straight man. Or woman, as it were. She had marched up to Bella on her first day to introduce herself, and when Bella told Alice that she loved her Louboutin shoes, Alice had announced: "This is my best friend now! You're all replaced!"

She had stayed true to the sentiment, taking Bella with her on lunch breaks, inviting her to parties, and taking her to Happy Hour the second she turned twenty-one. Alice was Bella's very best friend, and she genuinely loved living with her. She did not, however, love the late nights that they sometimes experienced when Alice felt like "going out and getting dirty." Which is exactly what they had done last night till the wee hour of 2AM.

Which is why Bella slept through her alarm.

When she pried her makeup-crusted eyes open, the clock read 8:20 AM. A full thirty five minutes past the time she should have been awake.

Shit.

She threw off her blue duvet and hurtled pell-mell towards the bathroom, managing to trip only once as she rounded the doorway and fell into the hall. She picked herself up and flung herself into the shower, not bothering with setting temperatures or shower head settings. She ended up with boiling hot water in the massage setting, a combination that should never exist. She hot-footed and yelped and danced through her hygienic process, cursing at God and Alice and dance clubs. Once she was clean, she quickly dried herself and took a peek into the steamy mirror.

Jesus H. Christ! I look like a raccoon. Or the Joker. Or the Winter freaking Soldier.

She grabbed a makeup wipe from Alice's side of the vanity and quickly rid herself of the offending eye paint that her terror of a roommate had insisted she wear last night, and which she had forgotten to remove in her tipsy state before falling soundly, stupidly asleep. Why she ever allowed Alice to put makeup on her was a mystery that even she could not solve. When her roommate pouted and whined, Bella fell in line like she'd been hypnotized. There was no logical explanation for it. When all of the makeup was gone, she snagged her toothbrush and got to work on her oral hygiene. Since she was late, she decided to multitask: she went to the kitchen and popped in her designated late-morning breakfast – toaster waffles. She spit toothpaste into the kitchen sink and continued to brush on the way to her room. She was greeted with the sight of her mountainous pile of clean clothing that she had neglected to put away in their proper places, because Alice had said, "Laundry will be here when you're an old maid! Throw on something hot and move your ass!" Looking now at the massive mess of clothing, Bella was at a loss. What to do, what to do? Search for something good, or grab the first pieces of black clothing she could find? Run the risk of being late, but look good, or roll the metaphorical dice?

Hoping she didn't come up snake eyes, she reached in and grabbed black clothing, shoving it onto her body without any sense of grace or propriety, just speed. Propriety and grace were for suckers anyway. When she opened her closet door to get her CFG navy blazer and a pair of shoes, she spied herself in the mirror. She had ended up in a wrap shirt with a peplum hem and black skinny jeans. Good enough. She threw on her blazer and tugged her damp hair out of the back of it, running her fingers through it to work out any knots. It was going to dry in unmanageable waves, but there was nothing she could do about it at this point, she was far too late as it was. She hopped out on one foot to the kitchen as she tugged on her socks. Grabbing the waffles and a plate, she popped one fluffy Eggo in her mouth and made her way to Alice's room.

She slammed the door open, not very much caring to wake her friend gently after her tequila-soaked night. This was all Alice's fault, after all. Rosie always hated tardiness, and Bella always hated the look on Rosie's face when she was late. So, she hopped over to Alice's bed, one hand struggling with her black Converse low-tops and the other holding Ali's waffle, and flopped down unceremoniously, shaking the entire thing like an earthquake had hit. "Ali!"

"Ungh," came Alice's groggy reply, from underneath a mountain of blankets and decorative pillows. Bella could make out one side of Alice's face from underneath her hiding hole, and was pleased to see that makeup ran down in it streaks. Good. Serves her right for forcing Bella to go out and making her late. Alice would have an absolute cow when she saw the damage done, shrieking about the aging process and the dangers of sleeping in your makeup. Bella was sorely sorry that she would miss it; Alice's rants were consistent entertainment.

"Here's breakfast, you drunk. I left you a glass of water last night, and there's Advil in the medicine cabinet, but I'm late and don't have the time or frankly inclination to get it for you, considering I'm only late because you insisted we go out for literally no reason last night." Bella finished tying on her shoes and stood, leaving the waffle just out of Alice's reach on the gigantic bed. "I'm taking the car, I'll grab you for your shift when I'm on lunch."

"You're the devil," Alice said, her voice almost entirely muffled by the piles upon piles of bedding weighing down on her.

"And you love me," Bella replied. "You Satanist." She strode over to the door, turning back to see her friend helplessly pawing around the covers in search of the waffle. She let out a short laugh. "Make us something good for lunch, okay Ali? I'll be here at eleven thirty." She turned on her heel and slammed the door to Alice's room for good measure.

"Demon!" Alice had shouted at her through the door, meaning that Bella had successfully exacerbated her hangover. Bella, for one, never got a hangover. It was her one advantage on Alice and she flaunted it often. The only downside was that she remembered every stupid thing she had done while drunk, like last night when she had done a tequila shot off of Alice's bare shoulder. Dammit.

Bella just laughed at Alice's pain and finished the last bite of her waffle. She rushed toward the living room and grabbed her keys off the peg by the door and her laptop bag from the entry where she'd dumped it after work yesterday. She stepped out into the crisp morning air and checked her phone for the time.

8:37.

Seventeen minutes?! A new personal best! She still had time for coffee! She quickly switched from her home screen to her Starbucks app, sending off her order. She settled into the driver's seat of the sleek Chevy sedan that she and Alice shared and smiled. She had a good feeling about today, despite its disastrous beginning. It was going to be a good day, she could feel it running through her veins like small electric tingles. Maybe that was caffeine withdrawl, though. Hedging her bets, she drove off in the direction of Starbucks.

*

Twenty minutes, one venti iced hazelnut soy latte with three pumps toffee nut and light ice, and a miraculous streak of all green lights, Bella walked through the doors of Cullen's Fine Goods Emporium, struggling to put her keys back into her laptop bag. Despite being incredibly clumsy, she knew the layout of the store and could probably make it through unscathed in her sleep, so she wasn't too concerned about tripping or stumbling while she wrestled with her keys, coffee, and bag instead of watching where she was going.

Her mistake there was forgetting that human beings sometimes roam the store and cannot be accounted for by knowing the layout. Which is exactly why when her boss, Emmett Cullen, rounded the corner, she ran smack into him. "Whoa there, Edelman. Slow it down, you don't have to make it all the way to the goal in ten seconds." Emmett reached out to steady Bella as she started to fall, placing one hand on her arm and hoisting up her laptop bag with the other. Bella had clung to the coffee in her hand, desperate to save her precious nectar of the cosmos safe from her own two feet. Stupid, large, boss rounding corners at speeds comparable to those of Usain Bolt.

"Oh, shut it Gronk, you're just mad because Brady likes me better." Bella and Emmett both shared a deep abiding love for the New England Patriots. It was what had started their own personal friendship, just as good customer service had started hers and Rose's and fashion (and Bella's total personal lack thereof) had started hers and Alice's. Emmett was fascinated by the team's ability to remain on top of the league despite new team matchups and players entering each year, and he idolized Bill Belichick's management style. Bella just liked Julian Edelman and Rob Gronkowski in their tight football pants. But her taste for the players quickly evolved into a taste for the game, and she and Emmett always watched the Pats together with Rosie and Alice on Sundays. Rose had a small, general understanding of the game, while Alice still called touchdowns "scores". They had even come up with nicknames for each other. Bella was Edelman, because of her obsession for the wide receiver, and Emmett was Gronk, because, well, he was massive and goofy, just like Rob Gronkowski. They also pretty consistently referred to Rosalie as Brady, because she called the shots. They even got her the jersey for game days.

Emmett laughed at Bella's implication that his own wife liked her better than him. "Whatever, Bells. What's the hurry? You're not trying to set the land speed record for coffee-carrying, are ya?" He smiled his wide, bright grin, flashing Bella his dimples. Bella just rolled her eyes and kept pace toward the office. Emmett laughed and darted after her, easily matching her stride with his far longer legs. "Well, hey there's a surprise for you in the office! Just came in this morning."

Bella paused and finally managed to shove her keys into her bag. She turned toward Emmett, cautious but excited. Perhaps there was a new manuscript that Carlisle had gotten her? Maybe Alice had ordered something for the clothing department but thought it would be better suited to Bella? Esme was always going through the inventory to find things her children would like, and she included Bella as well; maybe she had found something? Emmett just stared back, smiling wide, waiting for her curiosity to get the best of her.

It did.

"Well, then, what is it?" she asked, raising one eyebrow up at him. Sometimes Emmett's surprises were good, but sometimes they were horrible. Once he had told Alice he had a surprise for her and the only thing he had done is wrap everything in her office in toilet paper. He had also bought Bella some sort of weird sex toy as a gag gift last Christmas, and when she had jokingly complained to Carlisle that it was unprofessional and gross, he just told her to take it up with H.R. The only problem with that was that Emmett was H.R. at Cullen's Fine Goods, as well as being CFO. Emmett had laughed for a solid five minutes after, while the Cullens either giggled or tried and failed – like Esme – to hide their amusement as Bella pouted and threw the offending "present" in the garbage. The thing about Emmett was that even when he did things like this, he always managed to make up for it. He had also gotten Bella an extremely rare copy of Wuthering Heights that Christmas, but waited until well after the sex toy fiasco to give it to her. And he had cleaned Alice's office for her and gotten her the shipment of vintage Givenchy that she wanted for the store after the toilet paper incident. So while this new surprise may be awful, there was bound to be a silver lining. She took a sip of her latte as they approached the door to the office and Emmett's grin widened.

"You've got a new boss."

Bella groaned. Since her first boss, Mike, had left a year and a half into her time at Cullen's Fine Goods, they had been through six customer service managers. One guy only lasted a month, but to be fair, the team had pretty much scared the crap out of him the entirety of Halloween a week before he resigned. The customer service department was chock full of women, and for some reason, they could never find anyone who could manage that much estrogen. People either got fed up with the in-fighting, tired of angry customers, or felt usurped by Bella, though she tried to be accommodating. She couldn't help it if the team relied on her, she was the only consistent authority figure in customer service. She knew the department backwards and could answer any and all questions. She had free range to authorize discounts, approve checks, and verify returns. In fact, most of the team saw her as their manager, although Bella was adamant that she was not. She couldn't devote that amount of time to the store, she had to finish law school. As a result, most people didn't last in the position very long. The other departments called it cursed, like the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. Often they would refer to customer service managers as Lupin or Moody.

"Now, now Bells, no complaints," Emmett said as he opened the office door for them. "You know Rosie wants you, but you're so insistent on this lawyer thing."

"Ah, yes, this whole 'having-a-career-and-stability-and-a-degree' thing is really messing with your store dynamic, isn't it Em?" Bella rolled her eyes yet again as she made her way to the break room to set down her bag. She took another long pull from her latte, letting the caffeine surge through her. She wasn't about to give up on a lifelong dream just so Emmett could have the manager he wanted, no matter how much she loved the Cullens. Besides, Esme would kill her if she quit law school, and Charlie would be devastated. He loved that she was going into justice. "Like father, like daughter," he always said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you want to be Ms. Saves-the-World, I know."

"Well, maybe not the world, but a few people couldn't hurt." Bella couldn't wait to be an attorney. She only had one semester left, and she was excited to get out there and help. Her specialty was in family law, and she knew that although the cases were usually sad, she would try her hardest to make a few happy endings. "So, new guy? New girl? What's the dirt?"

"Well, it's new guy for starters. He's my cousin from Chicago, remember I told you about him?" Emmett stole Bella's coffee from her hand and took a sip. She snatched it back, and made a face at Emmett. She could vaguely recall something about the Cullens' family in Chicago. Esme's sister and her husband lived there, with their son. His name was something that started with an E. Emmett put hi hand on the small of Bella's back and started guiding her toward Rose's office. Edwin? No. They neared the office and Bella could hear voices through the door. There was Rose's soft alto, speaking with affection, and a musical baritone, low and calm. Eric? No, that's not it. She heard the low voice chuckle, and thought to herself that it was nice-sounding. Maybe this guy wouldn't be so bad. Evan? Definitely not. "Knock, knock Rosie," Emmett said, opening the door to her office.

Rosalie sat across the desk, beaming at the chair across from her. She turned her perfect smile on Bella and Emmett, and Bella smiled back automatically. It was reflex. "Bella! Perfect, we were just talking about you!" Rosalie pointed to the new guy, and Bella finally looked down at him in the chair, as he turned to greet her and Emmett. She took a sip of her coffee. "Bella Swan, Edward Masen. Edward Masen, Bella Swan."

Bella choked on her coffee. The man in the chair was by far the most attractive man she had ever seen. He belonged in a Renaissance painting, not Rosalie's office. He was beautiful, with his unique brownish auburn mess of hair, his striking green eyes, straight nose and full lips, his high cheekbones. He was ethereal.

But that wasn't why she choked.

No, Bella choked on coffee because last night, after taking a body shot off of Alice's shoulder, she had spotted a man at the bar and the alcohol had deemed it appropriate for her to approach. The tequila spoke to her, saying a man sitting alone at the bar was obviously in need of some company. So she had ditched Alice, sidled up to the man at the bar, slid onto her own barstool, and talked to him. For about an hour before her phone went off, she sat and talked to the interesting, beautiful man at the bar. When her phone had chimed with Alice's text, asking where she was because it was time to go, Bella had been disappointed to leave the nice, attractive guy with the interesting conversation topics. So disappointed in fact, that the tequila had spoken to her again. It told her to kiss him goodbye, and she had. And it had been wonderful, the kind of kiss that warmed Bella all the way down to her toes. His lips had been still at first, apparently in shock, but he responded a split-second later, kissing her back fervently. His mouth was soft, and he tasted like whiskey. It was intoxicating, that kiss.

Bella hadn't been able to dwell on it like she wanted to when she'd gotten home. She had taken care of Alice and left her a glass of water for the morning and then promptly passed out without setting her alarm. But she did have a slip of paper on her nightstand, a napkin from the bar, hastily shoved into the pocket of her skintight jeans as she hurried to leave the bar before Alice passed out on the sidewalk. A napkin that said, in an elegant handwriting:

Edward Masen – 206 555 6572

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Bella was so intensely screwed, she thought as she watched Edward's eyes widen in recognition. There was no way that anyone could know. Not just because Emmett would never, ever let her live it down. No, she couldn't let anyone at Cullen Fine Goods know about making out with Carlisle and Esme's nephew (Oh God their nephew!!!!!) because employees were strictly prohibited from fraternizing romantically with their superiors. And as of about twenty seconds ago, Edward Masen was her superior, and all she could think about in that moment, as she desperately tried to get air to her lungs to replace the coffee currently flooding them, was fraternization. A whiskey and tequila soaked kiss against the high wooden bar, his lips insistent and her nose filled with his scent. And judging by the look he was giving her, Edward was thinking of the exact same thing.

Fuck.

*