*Disclaimer - Sadly, I own nothing of Twilight with the exception of merchandise, bought and paid for. I do, however, own my love for borrowing the characters and playing with them however I choose to. I thank Stephenie Meyer for creating the TwiWorld and for allowing us to have our fun with it. She owns Twilight, the insanity it created in my mind is my own.

Welcome to my newest project. Whilst hibernating, my fingers followed random brainwaves which resulted in a new multi-chaptered tale of Bella and Edward. This is my first time working with a beta reader - sshg316 has pre-read for me in the past and I love her input to bits! Now she's fixing me up entirely - thank you Shug!
Readers who are familiar with my stories know I love the slow burn and this story is no different. I hope you like it anyway. :P

Whatever Works

Prologue

I sat drumming my fingers on the empty table in front of me. It seemed much longer than necessary. There were chairs lined up along the opposite side and only one on my side – the one I was instructed to sit in. The room was cold. They had the air conditioning blasting, unnecessarily. It added to the cold, sterile feeling of the room. Glancing up, I stared at the cold, white fluorescents set in a cold, white panelled ceiling. Cold, white, sterile room – designed for what? I couldn't imagine this room was meant for anything aside from making its visitors feel cold and intimidated.

I stopped the drumming and rubbed furiously at my arms. Damn, it was cold! And what's the delay? I was very prompt for my appointment. I was always prompt. This was one of the reasons I despised job interviews. But it was something I had grown used to over the past year. More and more people were going for private therapy these days, and every time I got situated in a clinic, they closed up. With the last redundancy, I decided to throw my hat in the private sector, and this is where they sent me. Wonderful.

"Ms Swan?" A voice echoed through the hollow room, making me jump.

I turned towards the voice. "Yes?"

"It will only be another few minutes. Can I get you anything? Cappuccino? Perrier?"

"Thank you, no." I took a deep breath and opened my credentials file for the umpteenth time, then closed it again. They already had everything that was in here. I already had a phone interview and we had gone over my referrals and qualifications extensively. Now they wanted to meet me. They didn't seem in too much of a hurry to meet me... I glanced at the standard white clock on the wall. It looked cold too. And it indicated that I had been sitting in this chair for 74 minutes already. I exhaled and rubbed my temples. Was it worth it?

A sudden flurry of activity outside the door alerted me that an end to my wait was imminent. I cleared my throat and straightened my jacket, folded my hands on the table. Then my lap. Then the table again.

The door flew open and a dozen or more people rushed in and the door was promptly slammed behind them. I could hear the shutters of cameras flashing. What the hell? My heart raced and my palms were sticky with sweat despite being ice cubes. Who were these people?

"Ms Swan? I'm William Varner." He slapped a briefcase in front of us and extended a hand. "Directing your attention to the far end – Mrs Cope, steno. Dr Banner, the patient's physician. Mr Crowley, representing Dr Banner, and his lovely assistant, Kate."

I noticed the slightest cringe from the lovely Kate but no other acknowledgement or sign that the others had been introduced. Perhaps the slight of introducing her by first name only was bad enough without the chosen adjective.

Mr Varner continued on. "My assistant, Mr Yorkie, and his assistant, Angela." He adjusted his glasses and glanced at the paper on the top of his folder.

Angela smiled at me. She was lovely; why didn't she get a 'lovely' intro? No respect shown with a title and surname and no adjective. Ass. I smiled at Angela in return.

"And to my right, Mr Stanley from the AMA. Ms Goff, Rehabilitation Providers Association. Mr Newton..." Ah. Ms Goff, like Mrs Cope, wasn't lovely, nor disrespected in the ass' intro… what was his name? Oh right, Varner.

"Mike. Hi." Finally, another voice!

"And of course, Edward. Now..."

The two men beside Edward were left unannounced. Strange. The whole line-up was strange. "Sorry... Excuse me, I think I'm in the wrong place? I was here to meet with a prospective patient?"

Mr Varner nodded tersely. "Right place. You won't meet my client until you're approved here. Now, all parties are present, formal introductions made, let's get the paperwork out of the way so we can all continue on with our day, shall we?"

All parties present began shuffling papers and clicking pens with the exception of me and the four men to the far right of Mr Varner. I realized I had no idea who they represented. The man introduced as Mike smiled and winked at me. Edward, the man beside him stared blankly at the table. One of the unnamed men beside him watched me. I don't think he blinked. At all. It was unnerving so I looked on. The other man at the table was turned facing the door. My attention averted there, I noticed a third anonymous man: a big one, guarding the door.

I blinked my eyes rapidly to clear my thoughts. This has to be a joke. Someone from the last clinic job? One of Charlie's old friends pulling a prank?

"Angie, be a doll and pass the forms along the table." Mr Varner didn't look up as he commanded her.

She stood abruptly, grabbing the stack in front of her seat. "Angela!" she muttered under her breath. I offered her an understanding smile.

She walked straight to the end and placed what appeared to be a contract in front of the stenographer. "Please sign here...here...initial here...sign and date here. Thank you."

The scene was repeated for the doctor, his representative, and his assistant. Her heels clicked on the cold ceramic as she strode past her employers to the medical watchdog reps. The four men at the end were not required to sign.

"Angie, Ms Swan's is a touch more complex; you'll have to advise her as well."

"I know! I typed the damned thing up!" she whispered under her breath as she bent over me. "I've marked on each page where you'll sign. I'm sure you'll catch on." Her tone was smooth sarcasm and her smile, sympathetic.

"What is it exactly that I'm signing?" I inquired as Angela handed me a pen and pointed to the first 'X'.

"A simple confidentiality agreement." Mr Varner mumbled as he flipped through more papers.

I stared at the booklet before me. Simple confidentiality agreement? This thing was at least a dozen pages! "I don't discuss my patients!" I insisted.

The shuffling by all halted and pens were slapped down on the table. I, clearly, was a nuisance. I glanced at Angela, and she raised an eyebrow at me before giving me a slight nod. "It's okay. It's standard."

I read through the legal jargon on the first page. My temples began to twinge as I attempted to process the bullshit hidden in widely unused words. I gave up and signed. Then flipped and signed. Flip. Sign. Flip...

I passed Angela her pen.

"Hold onto it, hon. There's more." She stayed standing by my shoulder.

"Now, your referrals all gave their highest regards, and your clinical qualifications are suffice. You have not done home care." His eyes drifted up to me and bore holes into me. "Why do you think you can care for my client?"

At that moment, I didn't. It wasn't the work involved; it was the bullshit that apparently came with it. I was looking for security – not upheaval. I smothered my doubts and focused on my diction. "I cared for my father, at home, for five years while I completed school and training. Spinal cord injury. He's not on my resume because he wasn't a job."

"And he's not an issue now?"

I lowered my eyes. "He's deceased."

Ms Goff took that opportunity to speak out. "Ms Swan has been cleared of any wrong-doing in regard to that case."

I stared back at the silent stares up and down the table and lifted my chin. "Thank you, Ms Goff, for establishing the fact that I didn't kill my own father."

The corner of Edward's mouth twitched, and Mike leaned in to whisper to him. Otherwise, I received more blank stares. I was ready to tear up the papers laid out in front of me, now three separate piles. I wanted to take the lovely Angela's pen and… yes, lovely Angela, because she was lovely! Just because she wasn't a cute, perky blond like Kate didn't mean she wasn't just as attractive. More importantly, she was the only person in the room who displayed any sort of personality. Well, the Mike guy seemed personable... Anyway, Mr Varner wouldn't appreciate what I wanted to do with the pen.

As my head pounded and my blood pressure came to a rolling boil, Mr Varner spoke again. "Right then. You have no other issues in your personal life that would inhibit your full dedication to my client?"

My personal life? What the... I felt Angela's hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She was cold, too. "None. There's no one." I stated. "I have no one."

"That's fantastic. Angie, doll, finish up with the rest of the forms and we can be on our way. We'll be in touch, Ms Swan."

I signed away what felt like my life and passed Angela her pen. She smiled warmly at me and whispered, "Well done" when she bent to gather the forms.

The others prepared to leave, and it was then that I noticed the man named Edward's gaze. It was intense. His eyes flashed away as soon as I caught his eye, and he looked down, morbidly sullen once more. What role did he play in this? I was still frozen to my seat when the flurry of activity started up again. The man at the door gave a nod, and he opened it, allowing the team of my adjudicators to exit swiftly. He, Mike, and the two nameless men from the table formed a protective circle around Edward, and they disappeared into the flashes and frenzy.

What the hell had just happened? I rubbed at my temples and took some deep breaths. All of this for an in-home care position? No one had ever told me a thing about this kind of hassle. I rubbed a little harder. This couldn't be worth it.

And yet, it was, I convinced myself as I sat with a hot cup of tea in my barren apartment. I was chilled to the bone from the icy room and the sterile atmosphere of my 'interview'. My home didn't offer much more warmth. Its walls were lined with cardboard boxes that I'd yet to unpack since my last move. What was the point? This was my third apartment in a year – since moving out of the house my father had died in. Nowhere felt like home.

I wanted this job more than I needed it, truthfully. The sale of the house, Charlie's insurance and his pension provided more than enough to keep me on my feet, but I was tired of moving around aimlessly. When the agency advised me of this position, I'd thought it was the perfect opportunity for me to really start over. The work itself would keep me occupied, and truthfully, I'd enjoy the company. The patient, a middle-aged woman, from what I initially understood, was also alone. It would be how it was when it was just me and my dad.

Dad...

I set my mug down and headed wearily for bed. I hadn't shed a tear for Charlie or myself in almost a year. I wasn't about to start that again now.

~ 0 ~

It was two long days before anyone was in touch with me. When Angela called, I was relieved to hear her voice on the other end. She asked if I could make another meeting at 2:15 and told me a car would pick me up at my residence at 1:30.

"And don't worry, hon, this won't be like the last one. I'll see you there!"

Dressed in casual business attire, I stepped out of the chauffeured car and gaped at the sprawling house in front of me. Jesus... Whoever this woman was, she had money. And as we entered, I realized this wouldn't be the same intimate in-home care I was used to with Charlie. This house was fully staffed, and I would merely be another employee.

Angela greeted me first when the maid took me through. With a warm smile, she pulled me to the side. "Some place, huh? Don't worry though. It's not nearly as stuffy as it appears. Mrs Cullen's quarters are at the back, by the garden, and it's very... unlike this." We both gazed up at the 20' ceiling that reflected light off the polished marble floor. "And she's such a sweetheart. You'll love her."

Entering Mrs Cullen's private quarters was like walking into an entirely different house. This was a home. The doors opened onto a quaint sitting room, one wall entirely glass overlooking the elaborate garden. Another had a fireplace with inviting-looking chairs in front of it. There were modest flower arrangements and loads of what appeared to be hand-stitched cushions and quilts. It was not cold and sterile here.

Neither was the woman who was wheeled out briefly after my arrival. She was a petite woman with beautiful caramel-coloured hair. It framed her flawless face perfectly. Her eyes were a soft, warm brown, and her smile was even warmer.

"Isabella? May I call you Isabella? I don't like formality. I'm Esme."

"Bella, please." I rushed over to accept the extended hand she held out to me. Warm.

"Please have a seat... or would you prefer to go outside?"

I returned her warm smile. "Whichever you'd like best, Esme. Both are lovely."

"In that case, would you mind if we walked the garden?"

"Absolutely!" I took her wheelchair and guided it through the double doors held open for us.

"We'll see you in a little while! I'm in Bella's capable hands." Esme firmly dismissed everyone else in the most polite manner. "I'll take over, dear. Walk beside me so we can have a good chat. Now, tell me all about Bella!"

The grounds were obviously amended to accommodate her chair, the smooth, paved path was wide enough for us both as we wove our way through the garden. I found it soothing, and this frail woman had a remarkable way of putting me further at ease.

Within an hour of leaving her side, I missed her already and desperately wanted the job.