Rated: MA for language and sex.
Irena and I figured we would clear that up for all the 13 year old girls who think M stands for Make believe. When it stands for Mature. So grow up! - Court.

Declaration: All things Twilight do not belong to us.

Author's Note: If you'd like, check out the photos in our profile.

Your Best Kept Secret

Chapter 1: The Idea
By: Crash Hale
POV: Bella

My eyes burned and felt a little swollen as I squinted before my computer screen. I could hear my friend Angela in the cubicle next to mine, talking on her phone, obviously to some guy because she was giggling a lot. Jacob, who was another work friend, was on the other side of me. I could hear him taking a work call. Everyone around me was in some kind of conversation.

I drowned them out and went back to working on the obituaries. I never really saw myself doing this, but it was a start and I knew that for a 25 year old at least I had gotten further than some other people I knew. Besides, I loved working here.

I had been working here at the 'Chicago Tribune' for two years now. I really wanted to write actual articles for the newspaper, but almost all my ideas got shot down and the ones that got picked up never worked out. People had no idea what good stories were. I just needed something that would catch peoples' attention. I hadn't been able to do that... yet.

"Bella... Hey, Esme wants to see you."

I looked up to see Jackson, a temp, standing in front of my cubicle.

"Okay, thanks, Jackson." I quickly saved what I had been doing.

"No problem." He gave me a smile and slowly walked off. I knew he had a little crush on me.

I made my way to Esme's office; everything went through her. She was my boss and she was pretty great. I always looked up to her a little. She was a woman in power and I liked that.

Esme smiled at me once I walked in and told me to take a seat. After a minute of small talk, she went on to tell me why she called me in here.

"Bella, how's life? Your dad doing well?" She asked sincerely. She was the most caring and genuine person I knew. But, she could tear you apart in the next minute if she needed to.

"Great, both great." I said, but she could tell one was not as much as the other. I decided to deflect, "How's Carlisle?" And it worked. She went on to tell me about a charity event at the hospital her husband was chief of staff at.

Now here comes the slaughter.

I had given her a few new ideas last week. I thought the one of dependency on drugs was more prevalent in teens on the 'In crowd' was pretty good. She, however, didn't. Every idea I shot out, she put down.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I know you are trying. But you are going to have to try harder... all of these are just missing... just that one little push that makes them great. You're still not there though." Esme told me.

I bit on my lip to control my outburst. I was there, God damn it!

"It's not me, Esme, it's that the readers don't want to read anything that's actually worth reading... They wouldn't know a good story if it bit them on the ass." I huffed, feeling a little angry at the fact that yet another one of my stories got shot down. I was just so tired of being wrong. In school, I was top of my class, and I worked hard for that. Shit, I busted my balls for it.

"I know Bella, but I also know what the readers want... and this... is not it." She placed the article over her desk, giving it back to me as a reject. "If you want to move up here, Bella, you have to push yourself. I know you have it in you." Esme told me. And just like that, I was denied. My hard work was defined as garbage.

I need a drink.

"Yeah... Okay, thanks... I'll try again."

"That's all I ask, and if it doesn't work, you still have this job." She gestured to my cubicle through the clear glass of her office.

Right, I wanted to stay with obituaries forever... Death; That's what it made me want to do. Kill myself.

Okay, that was harsh.

We finished up our meeting and I grabbed my stuff and headed out into the cold Chicago weather. I loved this city, I had lived here all my life with my father Charlie, who was a police officer for the city and my older brother Jasper, our mother died when I was thirteen and Jasper was sixteen. Charlie married again five years ago. His wife, Sue, was great and Jasper and I were ecstatic he was finally happy again.

I went to meet Jasper for drinks and dinner. I was really close with my brother, he was great. He was like a giant life sized Prozac. Always knowing just what to be for my mood. We had always been there for each other. I was in a rush because I was running a little late to meet him. As soon as I parked, I headed for 'McCarty's'. I spotted Jasper right away and hugged him hello before taking my seat.

"Got you a beer." He said watching me down it. He laughed and then sipped on his own drink. "Hard day?"

"People... just... suck... it's that simple." I explained looking at him more closely now.

He seemed tired, the delicate skin under his eyes was a little darker than usual.

Jasper was an excellent therapist. Dad and I were very proud of him, but it was a high stress career either way... But we worked for what we wanted. That's how we moved forward in life.

"Care to explain?" He asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him; Who did he think I was?

"No... I'm not one of you patients, Jasper. You can't figure me out in an hour... even if I paid you." There was a sarcasm to my tone and Jasper just smiled in return.

I watched Jasper's eyes wondering all around the bar, so, I looked over my shoulder to see what was so interesting.

There was a girl with her back to us, and half her ass was hanging out, leaning over a table full of men. All of them surely getting a clear view of the girl's goods. They were all flirting with her and she was laughing and flirting in return. I shook my head and went on to look at all the other waitresses; All of them in the same skimpy little sports outfits.

Was that meant to be a t-shirt?

And were those shorts or panties?

Why did women feel the need to degrade themselves?

I finally noticed we were in a sports bar. It was actually pretty nice, minus the almost naked girls. I had been so deep in thought over my meeting with Esme that I hadn't even realized when I first walked in.

"Oh, God, Jasper. Stop being a typical guy... Seriously, I wish these women would have some self respect. How could this possibly be something someone would want to do for a living? And these men... you're obviously one of them, only encourage it." I felt sick to my stomach.

"Jesus, Bella. Get laid already. Maybe the ice bitch routine would simmer down."

He was right. I felt my cheeks flush with heat and looked down into my beer glass, feeling a little embarrassed because he was right.

He noticed my reaction and I heard him chuckle.

"Seriously, when was the last time? Like four months?" He asked.

Was four months meant to be a long time?

Needless to say Jasper and I were close. He wasn't one of those brothers that pretended like I was a 25 year old virgin.

"Edward." I quickly said before downing the rest of my beer.

I heard Jasper slam his glass into the table and almost choke on his beer.

"Edward!?"

"Shhh." I shushed him.

"Two years? Shit, no wonder why you're a professional bitch." He joked.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Edward was my first and only serious relationship. We clicked, but once the initial fire burnt out, it wasn't the same.

He finally dropped it when the waitress he had been eyeing made it over to our table.

"Hey, guys, how are we doing?" She asked cheerfully, eyeing Jasper the whole time.

Jasper gave her his smile, that seemed to drive the ladies wild. I could tell he was a good looking guy of course, but I obviously didn't get it... I didn't want to get it, he was my brother, I wasn't meant to get it.

She moved even closer to him as she took our orders. His eyes dropped many times to where her shirt slid down, no doubt exposing herself on purpose.

"I think my little sister here needs another drink... and we'll both have the chicken cutlet BLT. Right, sis?" Jasper ordered, but wasn't really asking. She picked up on the over usage of the word sister. He winked at her before she set off to place our orders.

The waitress flirted with him over the next hour we were there. It was ridiculous, but at the same time it gave me an idea.

I had asked these questions over and over tonight.

Why did these girls work here?

Why did they wear these "clothes"?

What drove them to put themselves down this way?

Did they like it?

Why did men encourage it so much? Why were men pigs?

Who the hell owns this place and thinks it a fine establishment?

A man, a typical man. Bet my 401 K on it.

Before we left, I asked our waitress if they were hiring; Just incase my idea played out. She went and got me a flyer.; They actually where.

"I won't dare ask why you want to know if they're hiring." Jasper gave me a look like I was acting extremely strange. Which I was.

"Then don't." I simply replied and he backed off.

Jasper and I finished dinner and went our separate ways home. I was so excited over my idea, that I stayed up late writing out the proposal. The next morning Esme agreed to meet with me.

"What have you got for me, Bella?" She said as she sat behind her huge mahogany desk with stacks of papers and an up to date computer.

"A human interest piece." I opened with. She quirked an eyebrow at me. "Do you ever wonder why some women choose to set us back decades when we have already jumped leaps and bounds? Why do some degrade themselves and give the rest of us a bad name?"

"Go on." She said, already intrigued.

"I was at this bar with my brother for drinks the last night, and the place was an all female staff. They wore uniforms that barely covered the necessities and flirted shamelessly with anything that moved. I want to know what goes on in these places. What makes them thrive? How do they attract such attention? Why do these "women" subject themselves to the humiliation of being in barely there outfits? I want to go undercover and answer all these questions from the inside." I said, knowing I had sold the idea. She was on the edge of her seat.

"Okay, but I want a weekly progress report. And make sure that you call me if you need anything." She said with authority in her voice.

"Of course. Thank you. So so much." I said and left her office.

I'd hopefully get hired at one of these kind of bars, if not 'McCarty's' than any other sports bar to get all my questions answered.

This was going to work. I knew it. I'd move ahead here with this story. I had to make this work.

Angela agreed to help me dress for the interview. I didn't have a lot of experience dressing like a slut.

She did my make up; It was a little darker than usual, more smokey and sexy. She curled my long dark hair into big loose curls and I let them fall down my back and shoulders.

It was cold outside so we chose the most revealing thing possible while not freezing to death. Angela was about the same size as me so she let me borrow her extremely tight black skinny leg jeans and high heeled black boots. I wore one of my push up bras that didn't get used a whole lot and a gray long sleeved tight top, it came pretty low on my chest and showed a good amount of cleavage.

"Wow, you look hot. Hell, I'd fuck you!" Angela said.

I had to admit; I did look hotter than I had in awhile. I was pretty boring. Angela had pointed out that I needed some more girly clothes a few times already and maybe she was right. I felt almost powerful in these clothes. I needed to make a note of that; Something to explore for the article.

"Yeah, but would you hire me?"

"Yes, I'd hire you so I could fuck you." She joked, making me laugh.

"Okay, I think I'm ready."

Angela headed home and I went to 'McCarty's' again. Today were the open interviews for waitresses. Hopefully I'd stand out to the owner.

Here goes.

I took a deep breath and pushed the front door open while taking my jacket off.