See, this is what happens when my obsessions with Michael Phelps and Edward Cullen reaches its breaking point. We get this.

(And, yes, there will be much more EdwardXBella in the next chapters) :

"Alright, that all sounds good. Thank you very much, sir," I said to the middle age balding man sitting across the wooden desk from me. His office was a comfortable size, but the white walls and lack of furnishings made it a place that no one would not want to spend excessive amounts of time. I got up from the hard chair I was sitting in and exited the room out into a long hallway that I had first walked through some twenty minutes ago.

And, let me tell you, I was so glad to be able to come to Mr. Turner's office today. This meant that I now had a job. Granted, it was only for a little under three weeks, but I was desperate for anything at this point. And, plus, they paid very well. I felt like I had a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, knowing that I would have some cash to get me through the next few months.

When I saw the ad in the Washington Post about two weeks ago, I knew that I would have to go seek out this Mr. Turner for an interview. The ad was placed by the International Olympic Committee. They were looking for local D.C. residents to help out during the Games. I would have never imagined it myself. Our nation's capital hosting the Olympic Summer Games. When a friend of mine first told me the news, the first thing I thought was, "Where are they going to build the stadium?" I had no idea how they did it, how they fit it into our small, populous city. Or where all the millions of dollars were coming from that were needed to host such an event.

But, that is beside the point. With the Opening Ceremony just one short week away, thousands upon thousands of people were making there way here to our history filled city. I wasn't sure exactly what my job was going to be until I met with Mr. Turner. But, it seemed to be simple enough. I was simply support staff, a handler of sorts. I had to make sure athletes knew where they were going, got there on time, and make sure no one got lost along the way. With several buildings and stadiums being used for all the events, it can be easy to get lost in an unfamiliar city (or country for that matter).

Tomorrow I was to be contacted and told where to show up on my first day (which would be a few days before the Opening Ceremony). Mr. Turner said I would probably be stationed at one athletic building for the entirety of the competition. Just assisting athletes and the public with anything they might need. I certainly was looking forward to this job, seeing all the famous athletes I had seen so many times on T.V. Yes, I know it is a bit childish, but really, like you wouldn't be doing the same thing.

And, one of the best things about this job was the hotel room I was being provided for the length of the competition. The IOC wanted all of their staff together, and since competition started very early and went late, it was extremely convenient not to have to commute. I still could not believe how lucky I got. A nice hotel room for a few weeks and a great salary! My home town was pulling out all the stops for this; they wanted to look great while the entire world was watching.

Little did I know, my job started the next day. When I was contacted the next morning, I was told that I needed to pack some things and report to the hotel by that afternoon. I was unnaturally excited about starting this job, so I hopped out of bed and grabbed a suitcase. I threw everything I could in there, not that there was much to throw, my wardrobe was fairly limited. Being in college is not the best for one's financial needs (a.k.a. clothing).

When I arrived at the Marriott, the city's largest hotel, I was greeted by a large sign reading: "IOC workers to 5th floor meeting room." As I passed through the lobby to make my way to the elevators, I was struck by the immense scale of the hotel. The lobby was huge, with high ceilings, and a gleaming tile floor that I swear I could see my reflection in. There were numerous little alcoves with chairs and couches and flowers everywhere. I probably looked like an idiot stumbling around the lobby trying to take everything in. But, something suddenly clicked in my mind, I didn't want to be late for my first day.

As I was walking towards the back of the lobby to reach the elevators, that is when I first saw him. He had just gotten off of one of the many elevators and was walking across the lobby. And by him I mean World Champion American swimmer Edward Cullen. I knew him well. Well, I had seem him on T.V. many times, I think the entire world knew who he was. He's tall, well over six feet of pure muscle and perfection. Really, he seemed to be perfect (at least to me). His reddish-brown hair was beautiful, and going in all directions. He had to keep running his fingers through it to keep it out of his face, which drew even more attention to it. Even in his baggy pants and jacket (that looked like they were for running or working out) you could tell how well build he was. They say he was born to be a swimmer, built for it. His broad shoulders and perfectly muscled chest and arms made me wonder why he ever bothered to put a shirt on.

As he walked past me our eyes met for just a second or two. His soft green eyes and my bland brown eyes. Everything about him seemed so tough. That is why I found it so odd that is eyes would be so soft and kind. It threw me off for a second. He had walked past me in a blink of an eye, and I continued toward the elevators. If this job was just going to be hanging around with people like him for a few weeks, I was not complaining.

I made my way down the 5th floor hallway, and I found the meeting room with ease. It was a very large circular room, with about a dozen tables that seemed to be mostly filled at this point. I slowly made my way around to the other side to where there were a few tables that still had a few open seats. I sat down at one and looked around the spacious room. Most of the people seemed to be around my age, maybe a bit older. That comforted me a bit; knowing that I would have people my age to get to know. I only saw a few older people, who seemed to be in their forties and fifties.

We were briefed on our job again, but I had already heard most of this from Mr. Turner. Everyone was given a large packet filled with everything we were to know. I was going to have a ton of fun memorizing all of this information tonight. And, as I was sitting there listening to some old guy go on and on about how we had to set a good example to the world, my thoughts traveled back to Edward Cullen. The elusive Edward. No one really knew much about him; they just knew he was incredibly good looking and could make any girls heart melt (including my own...which had already happened).

He kept his life a total secret; and who can blame him? With photographers and video cameras following him every where he went, he didn't need them butting into his personal life. But, of course, there had to be one right? I mean, with a body like that, I'm sure he was having no trouble in the dating department.

As I was snuggling into my large king bed that night, I wondered if I were going to run into Edward again. The odds were in my favor, we were staying in the same hotel and I would be out and about in the city. Ugh, what am I thinking? Like this god of a man would ever look twice at me. And, as I slept that night, I dreamed of maybe, just maybe seeing Edward again. Little did I know then, I would.

I had no trouble picking out what I would be wearing my first day on the job. The wonderful people at the IOC had provided all of us with a uniform. It really wasn't that bad; they could have done much worse. After I finished getting dressed I studied myself in the mirror. My assigned uniform consisted of comfortable, knee length navy shorts with lots of pockets, and a white polo shirt with the Olympic rings stitched on in the corner. Everyone (athletes, coaches, and staff like me) had been issued I.D.'s that we were to were at all times. They were quite large and there was a horrible picture of me plastered on the front. I swung mine around my neck.

I pulled my long hair up into a ponytail, grabbed my bag and the packet they had given me yesterday and bounded out the door.

I was on my way to the building where all of the swimming and diving competitions were taking place. That is where I would be for the next couple of weeks. Let me tell you, not a bad place to work. Was I being a bit weird about this whole hot swimmers thing? I can't help my self; have you seen these guys? You know how some people swoon over models? Well, I swoon over swimmers (specifically Edward Cullen).

The elevator arrived and I walked on. My room was on one of the very top floors, so I was surprised when I saw that there was already someone in the elevator. And, yes, that's right. It was Edward Cullen. Just him being so close to me made me blush. I felt like I was back in high school with a silly little crush.

He was in jeans today and a dark blue button down shirt. How silly I felt in my uniform next to him. Well, not really next to him. We were on opposite sides of the very large elevator. I saw that he had already pressed the button for the Lobby, which was where I was headed as well. The elevator very slowly (in my opinion at least) started to make its descent. I was suddenly pulled out of my own thoughts when he spoke.

"So, what sport are you?" he said softly. Was he insane? He honestly thought I, Bella Swan, played a sport. At an Olympic level no less. I don't even think they trusted me enough to keep score in high school. I turned to him. His eyebrows were raised, expectant of my answer. He looked extremely at ease, leaning up against the side of the elevator. I would not be surprised at all if a photographer jumped out of no where, snapped his picture, and then slapped it on the cover of GQ or People.

"Ahhh, no sport. I work for the IOC. Just helping out," I managed to get out. He tilted his head up, as if he was coming to grips of what I just said.

"Well, Miss No Sport, I guess you can tell me where the athletes breakfast is," he said with humor in his voice and a smile on his face. I realized that I hadn't seen him smile before. Before competition, everyone was always very serious. His smile was beautiful (of course) as he showed off his perfect white teeth. He was asking me...oh...ummm.

"It's on the fifth floor," I said with confidence in my voice. It looked like all those hours of memorizing information last night paid off! I can't imagine what I would do if I didn't know where the breakfast was...

We had arrived at the lobby and I glanced back at Edward as I got off the elevator. He was grinning at me, which threw me off for a second or two. And, why would he be doing that? I just smiled back.

"Wait! I don't know your name!" I spun around as fast as my body could manage. His whole face had lit up. I gave him a small smile.

"It's Bella. Bella Swan."

"Well, thank you very much for your help, Miss Swan. I hope we run into each other again," he said bowing a bit to me. I laughed at his old fashioned gesture. He gave me one last mind-blowing smile before the elevator doors closed between us.

And, with that, my whole body melted into a pile on shiny tile floor.

Check out my other two stories, Seeing Him Again and Not Like in the Movies!

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