Disclaimer: The brilliant Stephenie Meyer is the creator and owner of the Twilight Saga and the phenomenal characterizations within.

No copyright infringement is intended.

All other references to real world names, entities and material goods belong to those respective owners.

The plot is original and it's mine.

xXx

This chapter is dedicated to you, the reader.

Although I have taken an insanely long time to update, you are somehow still here with me. I promise to finish this story. It's complete…in my head at least. I think you'll like how the tangled web -every bit of it - connects in the end.

Special thanks to my friend and beta Kristine, because you rock my world, and you continue to inspire me.

Thanks to my real life lawyer friends, and amazing women, J and M.

J has been my best friend since high school and her shingle hangs in Phoenix, Arizona. M is my friend and neighbor who is a corporate attorney in Fairfax, Virginia. They help me keep Isabella's legal wrangling accurate and intricate.

xXx

Since it's been so long that I have posted, I am including a recap of The Agent and the Esquire. You can skip ahead to the real chapter if you like….

The Agent and the Esquire – Recap:

Edward is a sports lawyer/agent who along with representing his designated-hitter cousin, Emmett McCarty, is one of the most successful sports agents in the country. Isabella Swan is a corporate attorney for the Seattle Mariners. She's brilliant, brazen and beautiful, but keeps most people at a distance. Isabella and her closest friend, Alice, who is a costume designer at 5th Avenue Theatre, attend a charity masquerade ball at The Players Club (TPC), which is co-owned by Edward, Emmett and Jasper.

Isabella attended the ball as a painted Poison Ivy, with air ivy leaves and vines airbrushed in all the right places. Alice was a painted Catwoman.

Edward, who wore a Batman mask, was the successful bidder in an auction, and for $150,000, won a "drink and a dance" with Isabella. Jasper, dressed in his tuxedo as The Penguin, won Alice. The night for both couples began with a dance, led to heated passion, and ended with no names, no numbers…and no regrets.

The antagonist, James, another sports agent, albeit a bottom feeder, wanted Isabella for himself. In his sick and twisted mind, Isabella "is" Poison Ivy. He tried to win her in that auction, but Edward outbid him. James will stop at nothing to make "Ivy" his own. Laurent (James's step brother, a fact which the two of them have successfully kept secret), is the security manager at TPC. He gave the video feed from the TPC cellar and Cigar Bar to James. Angela is a photographer with the Seattle Times, and James broke into her computer and burned a copy of the pictures she took that night. He's been sending images to Isabella, and signing the name "Bruce", in an attempt to make Isabella think that it is "Batman" who is stalking her.

Rosalie is a psychologist, and she and Emmett are dating, but have been keeping their relationship to themselves, because neither wants their friends to interfere. Rose promises she will introduce her mystery man to Isabella and Alice on opening night of the next play opening in just a few weeks at 5th Avenue.

Isabella just returned from a trip to Baltimore, where she successfully won a $75 million dollar out-of-court settlement against the Baltimore Orioles. She brought back not only the cash, but returned seven "training camp" players back to the Mariners. Her efforts earned her a hefty bonus, and buzz throughout the industry.

James is getting more obsessed with Ivy by the minute. One night when he loses track of Ivy, James panics. Laurent remembers what trouble his brother got in when they lived in Canada, and he doesn't want James to go off the deep end and thus "out" them both. Laurent obtains an untraceable cell phone for James, who successfully sends Trojan Horse malware to Isabella's mobile phone. He can now track her Blackberry by GPS, and knows her every move. The external mic on her phone is always "on", and James can hear everything picked up by the "hot mic."

We were introduced to a few new characters, including marine biology students Brett Warner and TPC waitress Renes Me (Rae) Redfox. Rae, a Native American, is single. Brett, the bartender, is romantically involved with Seth Clearwater, who is soon-to-be-signed with the Mariners. No one except Rae is aware of Brett and Seth's relationship.

James's strong hand and thirst for control was evident in front of Edward, Jasper and Emmett when he became belligerent and caused a scene when Rae gave him the "wrong" beer. He'd wanted a Molson (actually an important fact to remember.) Rae accidentally spilled the beer on James's lap, which brought back James's memories of when he was a teenager and he was still wetting the bed. (Yeah, think psychopath right about here.)

Tanya, who works at 5th Avenue Theatre with Alice, is actually a member of a professional roller derby team, the Rat City Rollergirls. With her strawberry blond hair and green eyes, Tanya is bribed by James to play the part of Poison Ivy. Tanya's orders are to dress the part, take Alice with her to TPC, and make her move on Edward Cullen so that Edward will stay far away from Isabella. Alice, who has been aching to reconnect with Jasper, will be indebted because she sees Tanya as her ticket to destiny.

We've learned why Isabella is so closed off, and why she so effectively builds walls around her. Isabella's need to protect herself derived from a myriad of reasons: She has a flighty and reckless mother (Renee), who Isabella felt didn't give a damn about her; she has a father who was so far away that he wasn't close enough to play a part in her life; she had a high school boyfriend (Austin) who she was made to believe abandoned her by his manipulative parents; and subsequently an entire high school that blamed her when Austin left, thereby causing them to lose the state championship.

While in Baltimore, Isabella ran into Austin and learned that he never stopped loving her. She convinced him to finally let it go, and told him that what happened in the past was what helped shape her. Austin's tattoo of a swan touched Isabella, and she decided to get a tattoo of her own. She came home with a tattoo of a wilted ivy leaf above her heart. This was an exact replica of what Marcus painted on her breast the night of the ball…the night Isabella was a painted Poison Ivy.

Isabella overcame life's obstacles and became one of the most sought after corporate sports attorneys in Major League Baseball. Her former boyfriend, Jacob Black, is being traded to the Mariners, and Isabella and Edward Cullen got into a sparring match regarding the contract negotiation. Isabella walked out of her dinner meeting with Edward.

In an effort to show good faith that he is going to "do the right thing" by Jacob Black, Edward made changes to Jacob's contract and arranged to bring Isabella lunch in her office the next day. Edward and Isabella felt a connection, but just as Edward was going to ask Isabella out on a sailing date, Isabella received an ominous delivery consisting of a bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries. The ominous note revealed that the strawberries are from "Bruce" (Batman).

The bouquet is the last straw for Isabella, as she is more than annoyed after having received an ivy plant in her office, photographs delivered to her hotel in Baltimore, text images sent to her phone, and then the bouquet of strawberries. She vowed to find out who "Bruce" is and put an end to his threatening ways.

And, now…without further ado….

..xxXxx..

Chapter 9 - Membership and Privilege

With Edward in such close proximity, Isabella hid her anger as she tapped the red button on her Blackberry and closed out the image that Bruce just sent to her. At least it wasn't naked pictures of her this time.

But, a bloody strawberry? What the fuck?

And, Isabella would be tossing that bloody bouquet in the trash, too.

"Something delicious, for someone decadent. – Your Hero, B." read the note.

Someone decadent? Isabella's stomach turned as she remembered that night at the Maskorade Ball. How in the world could Isabella have made such a lapse in judgment? The one man who had penetrated her armor…the one man whom Isabella deemed worthy enough for her - he wasn't worth the time it was going to take her to track him down, and cut him down to size.

Initially, Alice and she were going to throw caution to the wind and try to find the men whom they'd met that night. They had both danced with destiny, or at least that was what Isabella thought. That was before everything that Bruce had put her through. Isabella wouldn't touch "Bruce" with a ten foot pole now, but she didn't want to stand in the way of true love. Alice would still pursue her Penguin. Tanya was going to use her status as a Rat City Rollergirl, and get Alice into TPC that very night.

While Alice was dreaming about her happily ever after, Isabella was devising a plan to put Bruce's cock in a vise. It wouldn't take long for Alice and Jasper to grind to their own beat on the dance floor of The Players Club.

Isabella would do some grinding of her own.

She'd grind her stilettos straight into Bruce's balls.

"Bastard," Isabella thought. God. She hoped that she hadn't said that out loud.

She wanted to explain to Edward that she had no clue who "B" was, but you'd better believe she was going to find out. Maybe she should ask Edward. He would know. He was one of the most successful sports lawyers "slash" sports agents in the industry. Edward Cullen also owned The Players Club, for crying out loud. If he didn't know who Batman was, he could certainly find out.

No.

She wouldn't involve Edward. And, she wouldn't involve Alice, either, although surely her Penguin would know how to find "Bruce."

She'd fight this battle herself. That auction raised money for charity, and there would certainly be a paper trail. Isabella would make that call to the Harborview Hematology department the moment that Edward left her office. Isabella would ask who bid on her. Isabella was far from impressed that "Bruce" had spent $150,000 in order to "win" her. And, once you thought about it, if he had that much to blow on her, he had far more than that to lose.

Yes. Isabella would put an end to this depravity once and for all.

She placed her Blackberry on the corner of her desk, but Isabella must have exerted a little too much emotion behind that action, because the "clunk" was loud enough to pull Edward's attention away as he glared at the bouquet and note that "Hero" sent.

Someone's pissed her off.

That's more like the Isabella that Edward saw last night - the woman who walked out the door of Poppy when Edward tried some admittedly questionable tactics in an effort to get her to sign Jacob Black's contract.

The "Ice Princess" rears her pretty head…

That wasn't fair. And, not true at all. Lunch with her had been…pleasant; effortless, actually. As a matter of fact, he would have asked her to join him as he took a new sailboat for a test voyage on the Sound if it hadn't been for the fact that she was otherwise…involved.

Yeah. With a hard-on who called himself "Hero."

Edward's and Isabella's eyes met in uncomfortable silence. He shifted his weight. She twirled a lock of hair. Isabella had taken her hair down from its French twist prior to her lunch meeting with Edward. She was certain she'd caught Edward staring.

And, yes, he had noticed.

There was something in the air in that room. They both felt it.

It was confusing for both of them, actually, to feel this way about someone, when, at least for Edward, he was still hoping to find the woman he met at the ball. "Poison Ivy" was unlike any other woman he had been with.

Edward had searched for Ivy and he came up empty handed. She was the first woman in a long time to hold his interest…that is until Isabella Swan came along.

As for Isabella, it was a different kind of struggle. That same "clenching of her stomach" that she was feeling right that very moment, was similar to how she'd felt when she was with Batman that night. She'd thought he was a gentleman. She'd craved his touch. But instead of being the hero, Batman had turned out to be the villain.

How could she have been so wrong about him? Was Isabella's judge in character warped after all those years of being closed off to the possibility of love?

Edward began to walk toward her. Isabella leaned forward as if to lessen the distance.

BUZZ! BUZZZZZZZ!

Their silent musings were interrupted by the annoying sound of Isabella's intercom.

Isabella wasn't amused. Lauren understood very well that she was in a meeting – a meeting with Edward Cullen, no less. She was not to be disturbed. It wasn't surprising, though. Lauren didn't possess a single ounce of respect for Isabella and tried to undermine her at every turn.

Isabella was well aware of that fact.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer….

"Yes, Lauren? Can't this wait?" Isabella's words were clipped and sharp. She wasn't going to afford Lauren any latitude.

Lauren was quick to respond in her typical spiteful tone, "Actually, no, it can't. It's Phil Dwyer. He says it's urgent that you call him."

Isabella rolled her eyes.

Not at Phil, but at the fact that most likely her mother, Renee, had – yet again - gotten herself involved in something she shouldn't have.

Renee had lived life on the edge before she met and married Phil Dwyer, a professional baseball player with the Arizona Diamondbacks. Where she once worked for a pittance as a waitress at a country club, her mother now lived a life of privilege and was a member of that very club.

What had Renee done this time?

"Edward, I am sorry. It'll only take a moment, if you don't mind waiting?" Isabella offered a hopeful look.

Edward took one more glance at that note on the credenza from Isabella's boyfriend, and figured it was time to leave.

"Actually, I really need to get going." Edward walked over to Isabella and looked straight into her alluring brown eyes. The sun was shining through the glass at the perfect angle.

He thought he saw flecks of gold in her eyes. He felt he'd seen those eyes before, not last night, but sometime before, he just couldn't place it. He wanted to stay.

"Thank you, Isabella for having lunch with me. It's been a pleasure, truly.

"I know we need to finalize Jacob Black's contract. The Mariners also intend to sign a new client of mine, Seth Clearwater. I am hoping we can kill two birds with one stone, and take care of both contracts together."

Isabella didn't want to take Phil's phone call because quite frankly she didn't want Edward to leave. Suddenly, she processed what Edward had just said.

Edward signed Seth as a client? The Mariners were bringing another member of Jacob's tribe onto the team?

"Seth? Clearwater?" Isabella paused between the first and last names. "He's a friend of Jacob's."

Edward nodded, "I thought you might know him. Seth called me a couple of days ago. Jacob told him about the Cullen Agency, and I actually just met him this morning to sign his rep contract. He seems like a good kid."

Isabella was dumbfounded. Jacob and Seth would both be on the Mariners? "He's a bit younger, but, yes, from what I remember, Seth's quite the athlete."

And then her intercom buzzed again.

Isabella audibly exhaled. She offered a silent apology for the sudden end to this lunch "non date," which was admittedly wonderful.

Edward chuckled, providing relief from the suddenly tense mood, "I think your assistant is going to forcibly extract me from your office if I don't leave right…about…now."

He wanted so badly to touch her, to run his fingers through that long silky hair of hers, but it was obvious she was deeply entrenched in a relationship.

But Edward was observant, and as he took one final look around her office, he noticed not only what was on that card next to the crystal vase, the one from "B-for-Bastard" no less, but he was also keenly aware of what wasn't in her office. Sure, there were diplomas, bar certificates, awards, but nothing personal. There were no photographs of friends or family - - not even the obligatory 5x7 framed photo of her boyfriend.

He smiled at that fact, reached over, and gently grasped her hand.

She was so warm, so soft, so…familiar.

And, quite possibly…available.

"Thanks again. And, since I behaved myself so well, why don't we sign everything over dinner? Say…on Monday? I'll have my assistant call your assistant?" Edward smiled his crooked smile, cocked one of his eyebrows, and awaited an answer.

Isabella didn't have time to process Edward's words, because just as he opened the door to leave, Lauren was right there in Isabella's face, telling her Phil had called again, and this time he was waiting on line two.

Isabella's words were rushed, "Sure, Edward, that sounds great."

Wait, did he just ask me to dinner? Business. Just business.

xXx

She watched as he walked down the hallway towards the elevators.

Isabella wasn't sure if Edward was still within earshot, so she made the decision to ignore Lauren, rather than put her in her place. Isabella simply gave her pathetic assistant a look to kill, shut her office door, and walked back to her desk.

She caught sight of that bouquet, and decided Phil could wait just a moment more. Isabella dialed 4-1-1 on her Blackberry. "Seattle, Washington. Harborview Hospital, Hematology Department, please."

She waited for the number. She listened as the automated attendant asked if she wanted to receive a text message of the listing.

The red light of her telephone blinked at her.

Phil…

"Text me the number," Isabella said into her phone. She would make that phone call to Hematology the second she hung up with Phil.

Although she was well aware of exactly who was on the line, she answered with her standard greeting, "Isabella Swan speaking."

"Bella? It's uh, Phil. I'm calling about your mother. It's bad, Bella. Really bad. Renee was in an accident. About an hour ago. She's okay…but…." Phil breathed a labored breath that was a mix of relief and fear.

He recounted the events, which Nettie, one of the other player's wives, had relayed to him from the scene. Phil told Isabella that every week, a few of the wives met at Moon Valley Country Club for breakfast. Nettie mentioned that Renee didn't eat much that morning, and "she may have had a few too many mimosas, but Renee said she was all right to drive."

"It's all over the news, Bella. Once it came over the wire that the car was registered to me…well, every station in Phoenix is covering it. The reporters obviously have some inside connections, but the cops aren't telling me a thing. The only information I'm getting now is what they are saying on the television." Fear and panic were palpable in Phil's voice.

Isabella's stomach was in knots and she felt sick. This time her mother was in deep.

"Just tell me what you know. What are the reporters saying?" Isabella knew very well the love-hate relationship that existed between the police and the media.

And, she knew if a story was cleared to air, it was most likely solid.

Phil's voice was noticeably shaken as he told Isabella how Renee had rear-ended a van at a stop light. He told her that Renee wasn't badly injured, but was taken to the hospital to be treated for some minor burns from the airbags.

Isabella tried to offer some sort of consolation. "So, she's okay, right? If she's not hurt, then that's the main thing."

Phil was silent on the other end of the phone.

That's when Isabella realized it wasn't the "main thing" at all.

Isabella's voice went up an octave, but she remained deliberate and calm. "You said mom rear-ended a van. Tell me it was just a little bump. Tell me she didn't injure anyone."

Please.

The silence on the other end of the phone revealed the grim truth.

And then the quiet became deafening reality. "It doesn't look good, Bella. The car that she hit, I mean, in the van, there were kids, six-year-old twins. According to the news reports, one of them, the boy, is okay. He's just in observation in the ER. But the girl, Bella, she apparently suffered severe injuries, whatever that means. She's in surgery right now. There's no information on the driver, um, I guess the kids' mother. Bella, I just don't know…." Phil buckled under the weight of knowledge and fear, and he was noticeably sobbing.

The fact that her mother was in an accident, was at fault, was drinking, that children were involved, that there was so much more that she didn't know – brought Isabella to tears, too.

Except, Isabella's cries were silent, contained, hidden behind that carefully constructed wall that protected her so well.

Then she breathed in a lungful of air, and let instinct take over. Isabella removed her emotions from the certainty of it all. Her mask morphed into that of the esquire that she wore so well, "What do you need me to do?"

Phil sensed it in her voice. The emotionally detached Isabella was back. "Renee is going to need a really good lawyer this time. The reporters are saying that Arizona has some of the most severe laws in the nation regarding DUI. Because there were serious injuries, Renee's going to be charged with something called 'extreme DUI'.. They are also talking about aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The reports are saying she is facing mandatory jail time…."

Isabella went to law school in Arizona, passed her first bar in Arizona, and she was well aware of the tactics prosecutors used in DUI cases. Isabella knew that her mother would face no fewer than three criminal charges. The most serious charge would be a class III felony, with the vehicle being the deadly weapon that Renee used to hit that van.

And then it hit Isabella.

"This time! What do you mean, this time? So, you are saying there have been other times?"

Because this was the first time Isabella had heard of Renee getting arrested for driving while intoxicated.

Phil needed Isabella's help. He knew he'd have to come clean. He told her about how Renee had been pulled over twice for drinking and driving, but that no other cars were involved. Apparently, those other times, Renee had dropped Phil's name, and since the arresting officers were D-backs fans, she wasn't charged with DUI.

The first time she was given a ticket for "failure to yield", and the other time, because there were so many witnesses, she was charged with reckless. Renee had to pay a fine, but that was the end of it.

"Bella, please. I don't want her to go to jail." Phil was pleading, hoping for some way to get his wife out of this mess she had created for herself.

Isabella knew very well that this was going to trial. She knew that her mother didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of getting out of it this time by simply paying a fine and having her saint of a husband springing for a few tickets to a Diamondbacks game.

Not with the injuries, anyway. There would be mandatory jail time.

If she is convicted, that is….

Maybe this was the wake-up call that her mother needed to finally grow the hell up.

But, in as much as Isabella wanted her mother to learn her lesson the hard way, Phil's pleading request, "I don't want her to go to jail," was enough to make Isabella act.

She wouldn't do it for Renee, but she would do it for Phil. "You said Renee was drinking. Have the reporters mentioned anything about a breathalyzer, a field sobriety test, or blood alcohol? Anything to that effect?"

Phil thought about it for a moment. "The reporter said the sheriff's office was waiting for her to be cleared by the ER before they could do a blood draw."

Isabella replied in her methodic tone, "Has she been arrested yet? For DUI, for anything at all associated with this accident?"

"No. The paramedics insisted she go by ambulance directly to the hospital," Phil wasn't emotional anymore. He sensed a plan in motion, and he was suddenly in action mode as well.

"Where are you now, Phil?" Isabella had her pen in hand, and was jotting down every idea she could think of about how she might get her mom out of this godforsaken mess.

"I'm here at Paradise Valley Hospital. They've got a television on in the lobby. Right now, ABC news is showing an aerial view of a Maricopa County sheriff's vehicle parked out front of the hospital….She can't handle jail, Bella." Once again, Phil began to falter.

Isabella spoke in her calm, calculated voice, "Listen carefully, and do everything I say."

Isabella proceeded to instruct Phil on exactly what to do to delay Renee's blood draw.

The longer the delay, the lower the blood alcohol level.

It began with Phil's phone call to the hospital administrator promising a major lawsuit should his wife be discharged prematurely. He promised that there would be a media frenzy questioning malpractice if Renee were turned over to the sheriff's office prior to receiving proper medical and diagnostic care for the burns on her hands and forearms, and any other "potential injuries" that she may have suffered during the "accident."

The operative word was "accident," because that's all it was. This was an accident until a court of law proved otherwise.

Isabella had connections and would find the best defense attorney in Phoenix. Even though it wasn't her field of expertise, Isabella wanted to be there during the criminal trial…maybe she'd even look over the case beforehand to make sure that no stone was left unturned. If her mom lost this case, there was pretty much a guarantee that a civil case was on the horizon.

Renee's stupidity could cause Phil to lose everything.

Isabella would have to take a leave of absence, but with that pile of cash that she'd gotten that very morning, money certainly wasn't an issue. And then it hit her. Isabella had yet to take a single vacation or sick day, since she started working for the Mariners nearly a year ago.

It was a rude awakening to her that she'd be using her vacation days defending her mother. Isabella remembered all those times that Alice and Rosalie had begged her to join them for a week, or even for a long weekend. She remembered making excuse after excuse about why she couldn't take a day off.

It was ironic. Isabella was too busy with work to have any free time, and now she'd have to take off work to save her mother's freedom.

x X x

Isabella knew she had to find an attorney for her mother, and the second she hung up with Phil, she called Demetri Skyros. He had recently been named head of the Diamondbacks legal team. He had been so helpful when she interned with the Arizona Diamondbacks while in law school. In all actuality, he was not only her mentor, but had become a personal friend.

He took her call right away. "Congratulations, Isabella! I hear you're the $75 million dollar woman. I hope you're not calling to tell me we're next on your hit list?"

She offered a forced laugh. "Thanks, Demetri, and, no, the Diamondbacks are safe - for now at least. I'm actually calling regarding a personal matter involving my mother, Renee Dwyer. She is married to Phil Dwyer."

"I know them both," Demetri offered.

Isabella cut right to the chase, "She was involved in an accident this morning, and is suspected of driving under the influence. She hasn't been arrested yet, and we are delaying her blood draw for as long as possible, but I expect she will be charged later this afternoon."

Demetri admitted that he was well aware of the situation. He told Isabella that he had watched the events unfold ever since Phil's name was bantered about on the news shows. "As a matter of fact, one of our new staff attorneys left a few minutes ago to catch Phil at the hospital. We want to make sure he doesn't say something he shouldn't to the sheriff or a reporter."

Isabella was relieved that she had a friend who could help. But, she needed more than a friend. She needed help in finding a Johnny Cochran for her mother's defense.

She reiterated to Demetri what he'd already seen on the news. "As you've heard, there were injuries. Apparently, a child is in surgery as we speak. But, what you don't know is that Renee has a history of driving under the influence. She was fortunate enough both times to be arrested by officers who were D-backs fans. She was charged with misdemeanor traffic violations both times."

Demetri interrupted her, "But that won't happen this time. Renee is going to need the best lawyer in Phoenix, and I know just the person. Jason Jenks is a personal friend of mine. Hold the line for a moment while I call him. For what it's worth, I'm really sorry about all of this."

Isabella offered her sincere thanks for his help. She told him that she was grateful that with her mother's history, that Renee hadn't already killed herself or someone else, "Maybe this is the shake up she needs, I don't know. But, we're going to need his help right away with a bail hearing, otherwise Renee will be spending the night in jail."

Demetri was attuned to that very fact. He texted his friend, and asked him to represent Renee Dwyer. He received an immediate response.

Jenks: Will take case. Still in court. Out in apprx 45 mins.

Skyros: Can u get bail hearing for tonight?

Jenks: No problem. Judge owes me one.

Skyros: I owe you one.

Jenks: Yes, you do. Tell the lovely Isabella Swan that we will get bail. No stripes on her mom tonight.

And, Demetri relayed that exact message, verbatim. Both he and Isabella knew all too well the reputation of the Maricopa County sheriff. He was known for his radical ideas for his "prisoners". Of all the places for Renee to face incarceration, the Maricopa County jail was one of the bleakest in the entire nation.

His rules included having the inmates wear traditional jailhouse black and white striped coveralls - not exactly the privileged Prada that her mother was used to as of late.

But, with a child's life in the balance at that very moment due to her mother's habitual drunk driving, Isabella knew that stripes were exactly what Renee deserved.

xXx

So…Ivy's mother was a drunk? Shame….

James sat in the dim light of his den, swallowed by his outdated, oversized, naugahydechair. It was such a habit for him, sitting in that chair that is, that he was unaware of how uncomfortable it really was. The springs were broken, the padding was matted down, and, whenever he sat on that chair wearing only his briefs, his legs stuck to the vinyl, and he had to peel them off like a Band-Aid from bare skin.

On this muggy April afternoon…it was one of those days.

And, things would only get stickier.

There he sat, wearing nothing but his tighty whities and a tee shirt. He'd been listening and watching Ivy all morning long on his Droid. James watched as the red blip moved along the google map on his screen as Isabella drove to work. He watched as she walked from her car to her office. He zoomed in and could even tell when she walked from one room to another in the offices of Safeco Field.

And, of course, because of that hot mic, he'd heard every word.

He knew about the bonus money. He knew about Edward's visit. He knew that Edward Cullen had signed a new player named Seth Clearwater.

And, he knew for a fact that Edward Cullen wanted to get into Ivy's panties.

Again.

Over Edward's dead body.

Or hers.

James would make sure Edward fucking Cullen never laid another hand on Ivy. He gripped the arm of the chair, his fingernails dug in so hard, that they made permanent indentations in the vinyl.

James shoved another slice of cold pepperoni pizza into his mouth, as he thought of his plan.

Part one was already in motion. Tanya was on target to take Alice to TPC that night. She had a near replica of the lace dress that Ivy wore the night of the ball. She would be wearing the exact iridescent shoes that his Ivy wore.

The dress. The shoes. The green eyes, the red hair… all of that would lure Edward right into Tanya's arms.

Edward wouldn't know what hit him.

Tanya was well versed on what to say if Alice started asking questions. And, if Edward opened his mouth in protest, she'd stick her tongue down his throat and shut him up.

Part one of the mission was nearly accomplished.

But, part two, now that was more of a challenge.

James knew he had to find a way to throw Ivy off course. He knew that Ivy had the phone number for Harborview Hematology. James was confident that Harborview would protect their benefactor's identities with the same fervor they guarded patient records. The auction was for charity…and every organization that is dependent on the good will of others, knows they must respect their donor's discretion.

But, it was only a matter of time until Ivy used some of her bonus money and hired a private investigator.

James knew he had to act soon. He'd have to find a way to make Ivy believe she'd discovered who the evil Bruce really was.

James would step in and be the knight…the Black Knight in shining armor that would come to her rescue. When Ivy came face to face with the devil himself…James would be there to save her. She would run straight to him.

But, first, James needed to find a way to get up close and personal with Ivy. He'd first be a business associate, then he would become her friend, and then…her savior. She'd never suspect a thing.

Yes, that's it…a friend.

And, Seth Clearwater was key.

As a professional baseball player, Seth would be presented membership into The Players Club that very evening. James would be there with open arms and an offer Seth couldn't refuse.

Edward had just signed Seth Clearwater's rep contract that morning. In their industry, it was standard for such a contract to include a three day right of rescission.

Money talks, and James would offer to cut the agent's percent in half. It would save Seth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Seth would cancel his rep agreement with Cullen. James would become Seth's sport agent, and Ivy would handle the contract negotiation.

Perfect.

James heard the familiar buzz of Isabella's intercom; he took another bite of that stale pizza.

And he listened.

xXx

Isabella had barely hung up the phone with Demetri when Lauren buzzed through again. "Tyler wants to see you in his office right away. Says to bring your notes on those players you got from Baltimore."

She gathered the files, scooped up her purse and Blackberry, and headed down the hall to Tyler's cushy corner office. She found Tyler in the midst of an animated discussion with Mariners General Manager, Kevin Clapp.

Coach Clapp was free comedy. Made you laugh without costing you money. Only problem, you laughed at him, and not necessarily with him. He had a beer gut, and the man jingled. Yes, jingled. He had a bad habit of playing with the coins in his pockets. But, the best part was that he sported one of the most pathetic comb overs she'd ever seen, with his hair slicked over and then swirled on top of his head. It was saturated with so much spray that even a hurricane couldn't blow a single hair astray.

Did he actually think he fooled anyone? It doesn't work for The Donald, and it certainly doesn't work for you.

Coach Combover wasted no time with niceties. "Isabella, as you are aware, the Mariners are making final cuts after tonight's pre-season games. Tyler here tells me I have to clear the boys through legal before I can offer them a spot on the team. I need to have my roster posted by midnight tonight, so I will need you to clear everyone by..."

He looked at his watch, "Nine o'clock."

She donned an agreeable smile, "No problem, Kevin. As we clear the names, we'll text you, so you can get those offers out. I will hand deliver the official clearance list by nine."

Combover got up, reached his right hand in his pocket, and jingled right out the door.

Isabella brought the files and placed them on Tyler's desk.

Tyler handed Isabella the list of names that Coach Clapp needed cleared.

Nahuel Cămara.

Seth Clearwater.

Alonzo Calderas Wallace.

The list continued, but the name, "Nahuel Cămara" gave her pause. "Give me just a moment, Tyler, I need to check something," and Isabella pulled one of the Oriole's files from the stack.

NAME - Nahuel Cămara,

DOB January 22, 1980, home town, Florianōpolis, Brazil. Single. One child, male, born December 22, 2009, living with birth mother in Towson, Maryland.

Criminal:

* Domestic battery, September 2009, charges dropped.

* Restraining order, issued February, 2009, lifted April 2009, issued by…."

Isabella didn't need to read any further. "Tyler, my recommendation would be that the Mariners pass on Mister Cămara. He's another Connor Johnson, and we don't need to go there again."

Isabella and Tyler proceeded to talk about the "Johnson Case." Tyler spoke about how Johnson blamed it all on Ivy when he got himself fired. He rolled his eyes when he talked about how Conner Johnson actually had to be escorted out of the building, cursing Isabella's name under his breath.

They knew the politics of it all, and agreed that since Nahuel Cămara was number one on Clapp's list, they'd have to present a pretty solid case as to why legal was vetoing him.

"With the Johnson ordeal still on Clapp's radar from last season, I think we should make a connection to Nahuel Cămara," Isabella said, as she opened the file folder they would be hand delivering to Coach Combover. Isabella then inserted a copy of the newspaper article published the day after Connor Johnson was fired.

Connor Johnson was released from the Seattle Mariners yesterday, following his conviction of solicitation, lewd and lascivious behavior, and public nudity. He was arrested earlier this year when the local police witnessed him receiving fellatio in the backseat of his '69 Chevy El Camino, by an alleged prostitute, who was never charged in the case.

Isabella Swan, Esquire, attorney with the Mariners organization, confirmed that Mister Johnson is no longer a member of the Seattle Mariners baseball team. As Johnson was released under the Mariners "morals clause," it is expected he will forfeit the ten million dollars remaining in his contract.

Isabella mused about how she had no clue why Johnson had zeroed in on her, when instead he should have blamed his not-so-stellar lawyer, Felix Rinker, who couldn't get him cleared of a simple "John" misdemeanor charge in court.

They talked about how Isabella had actually represented Connor Johnson once before. Isabella worked as an attorney for the Mariners. Because Johnson was a player on the team, Isabella was tapped to defend him during a case in which a woman accused Johnson of groping her during Mariners Fan Day. It wasn't long after Isabella's opening remarks, that the judge dismissed the case.

Tyler spoke about how he still couldn't believe that the prosecution never "uncovered that restraining order."

Isabella remembered it like it happened yesterday. "When I first took on the case, I asked Connor if there were any skeletons. He told me that when he was seventeen, still in high school…and working at WalMart developing film, that he asked out a cute cashier a few too many times. She accused him of stalking her and claimed he grabbed her in the break room. He followed her home a few times, took some pictures of her, but he said he never touched her."

Isabella continued, "That restraining order was issued when Johnson was a minor. By the time he turned eighteen, he was a thousand miles away playing ball for Florida. The restraining order wasn't renewed, and his father paid a fortune to have it expunged from his record."

It's why the Mariners never knew about the restraining order in the first place, otherwise Johnson wouldn't have made the team either.

Expunged, invisible, non existent.

Isabella finished writing her notes that she would later type and hand deliver to the coach, "In summary, we are aware of a restraining order against Mister Cămara, as well as past assault charges. We therefore make the recommendation that, as an organization, the Seattle Mariners do not extend a contract to Nahuel Cămara."

Of course, in the official report Isabella handed the coach, she couldn't mention anything about Johnson or that restraining order, because it was protected under attorney-client privilege.

But, she would absolutely include that newspaper article about Johnson and let Coach Clapp draw his own conclusions.

xXx

James sat in his sticky chair and he smiled like the Cheshire Cat.

Connor Johnson.

Of course.

Johnson would be the patsy. James knew that Connor Johnson would be happy to play his part and watch Ivy squirm. He'd think she deserved it.

It was a most ingenious way to elicit revenge.

And, it would get Ivy off of Edward's trail. She'd no longer have a reason to snoop around in search of "Batman." She wouldn't be making that call to Harborview. She wouldn't be hiring any private investigators looking for the elusive Bruce Wayne.

Ivy would be made to believe that Connor Johnson was Bruce. She'd have no need to look any further.

Johnson had motive. He loathed Isabella Swan and she knew it.

Johnson had money - - six million dollars to be exact. It was a far cry from that original sixteen million dollar contract that Isabella stole right out from under him when she fired him for that unfortunate blow job incident, but still, a hefty sum.

And, from Ivy's point of view, it was more than enough for Connor to afford to invest $150,000 to bid on her, and then seduce her, at the Maskorade Ball. Ivy would think she was screwed by the same man she'd fucked out of $10 million.

And, because of attorney-client privilege, there would be nothing she could do about it.

xxXxx

END NOTES:

Thanks again, from the bottom of my heart, for reading this story. I am so very sorry for the long delay in posting, but promise that this story will continue, and will be completed.

If you are so inclined, please leave a review. I'd love to hear from you, your ideas, what you like…even what you might like to change (such as the posting schedule….)

As always, I'll send out review replies that include an insanely long teaser, an inside look into TAATE, and… this time, I've got a few more epic photos to share. One of them is from the Twilight movie, and includes a publicity shot of the original love triangle Edward – Isabella – James. Yeah, it'll be quite fitting for what's coming up in The Agent and the Esquire.

Expect Chapter 10 to post in April. And, that's no joke.