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Timeline note: we're FINALLY past December 13, 2021. Complete story timeline is the Lair.
We're with Bella today.
DREAMS UNWIND – CHAPTER 53
NOW – Bella
Seattle, WA – December 2021
The following morning, Laurie and I regroup for breakfast after the impromptu pizza party at Edward's house. I'm already in the kitchen on my first cup of coffee when she traipses downstairs, still sleep-rumpled.
She mumbles a fairly intelligible, "Good morning," in between full-blown yawns. "Sorry about that. You don't need to see my cavities."
"I think we're at the point in our friendship where we can talk about cavities, Blondie. I didn't hear you come in last night."
Reaching for a clean cup on the drying mat by the sink, Laurie fills it up with coffee and lands on a barstool in a somewhat shapeless pile of blonde, unkempt hair and gray sweatpants.
"You didn't hear me because I came home before you, you little rebel."
Now that's unexpected.
"Oh. I didn't realize I was so late last night."
She waves me off. "You weren't. Vic and I were both exhausted, so we sat here, eating ice cream and feelings for a while. Everything fine with Rock Daddy?"
I want to tell her that everything is fantastic. But she catches my short, small grimace before I can hide it.
"Uh-oh. I know that face. What happened? Is he not treating you right? I'll sic Vic on him."
Her fierce expression and pointy finger are enough to dissolve my tension into giggles.
"He's wonderful. But we hit a snag last night."
She eyes me speculatively from behind her coffee cup. The mist surging from it gives her an aura of mystery, which turns comical when paired with her appearance.
"You're looking like a disheveled Jessica Fletcher in sweatpants, and I can't take you seriously," I protest, giggling some more.
She shrugs. "As long as you're not brooding, I don't care. But what happened with Edward? No chemistry? That'd be a travesty."
I shake my head but waffle on how much I want to tell her. I decide on honesty, light on details. "He hasn't had a relationship since … Tanya." I let her fill in the rest. After all, she was in the room when Edward told us how Harper was conceived.
"Shit." She chokes on her hot coffee a bit, and it takes her a full minute to compose herself. "I don't have a witty comeback to that. I'd probably be a hot mess in his shoes too." With her usual insightfulness, she's hit the nail on the head.
"I can't fault him for that. I never would. I don't know how to help him, though."
Laurie heaves a deep sigh and sets her coffee cup on the counter. "Here's my completely unsolicited two cents."
"I love and welcome your unsolicited change."
"Okay. So, not the same thing by any means … but maybe it helps? When Aunt Mamie died, a lot of people tried to suffocate us with, well—and this is ironic—unsolicited advice. Everyone told us what we should do to process our grief, how we should empty out her house, what charity would take her church hats, and what a shame it was that we wouldn't be moving in, but did we have a realtor to sell the house? Can you see where I'm going with this?"
I nod. I remember that dark, fraught stretch of time very well. "They steamrolled over you without ever asking what you wanted."
"Bingo, sister. I can't pretend to understand what he went through or what he feels right now. But … let him tell you what he needs. Follow his lead."
I reach out for her hand and squeeze it. "Thank you, Blondie. I panicked for a bit there. I guess I needed the validation."
She squeezes back. "We all do from time to time. Your emotional intelligence is way above average. You'll get the hang of this. It's all so new between the two of you; you're still getting the measure of each other."
"Yeah. That's another thing that sends me into one of my overthinking spirals."
Laurie chuckles as she walks around the island to get more coffee. "Jeez, the two of you are meant to be. Two overthinking, detail-oriented bossy pants. Hey, off topic but not really ..."
"What's up?"
She puffs out a breath and resumes her seat right when the oven pings. "Whatcha making?"
I grab an oven mitt and take the muffin tray out of the oven. "Blueberry cream cheese wholewheat muffins."
"Oh, yum. Gimme!" She's so childlike in her eagerness that she reminds me of Harper.
"Careful, they're super-hot."
"Yes, Mom," she retorts with a wink. "I love watching you with Harper. She's totally smitten with you." Then she looks at me. "Wait, you're not worrying about Edward being a single dad, are you?"
"Nah." I point to myself. "Raised by a single dad, remember?"
"Right. Silly me. Coffee's not kicked in yet. So, my off-topic. Tanya and Leah. I have a bad suspicion. I might be grossly off base, though."
The name combo is throwing up all sorts of red flags. "Yeah, but considering the potential for a shitstorm, I'd rather we check into whatever's nagging at you only to find out it's off base. If that's the case, we'll take a deep breath and move on."
She props her elbows on the counter, steepling her fingers. "The blind item pointing to 'mommy dearest' raised my hackles because … what if it's more than just Rose unleashing all of her repressed nasty ideas? What if someone tipped her off?"
I sip my coffee and try the idea on for size. Then remember one detail about yesterday's day from hell. "You're not the only one suspecting that. Edward was frantically texting Leah yesterday after we read it, and she wasn't replying."
Laurie nods. "That's exactly what sent me down the rabbit hole. I remember his reaction—he must have put two and two together. What if Tanya is involved?"
"This needs to be ruled out. But tread lightly. I don't know if Edward has already and formally fired Leah. Until that happens, everything we do with her and her company needs to be a collaborative effort."
"Got it. Tanya would have to be stupid or reckless to risk resurfacing after three years, but then—" Raising an eyebrow when I'm still half-caffeinated is an effort, but it's worth it, if only to see Laurie's reaction.
"Yeah, yeah, boss lady. I hear you. Miss Parker could easily be all of the above."
I nod and check the muffins. While I get them out of the tray without burning my fingers, I'm also firing off more questions to Laurie. "Did you do any digging into her? What's she been up to recently?"
"I love it when you anticipate me," she replies with glee. "I did a deep dive on her socials."
"What about press?"
"Dang, nothing escapes you." She steals a muffin and starts blowing on it. "God, these things smell so good. But back to Tanya—not a ton of curated press recently. She hasn't given an interview in months. No big covers either. But she's been working steadily, and that's splashed all over her accounts. A swimsuit photo shoot in Bali, runway shows out the wazoo at the latest Fashion Week events in Paris, Milan, and London."
There's one city missing from that list. "Not in New York?"
"You caught that, didn't you? Seems like she's staying firmly planted on the other side of the Atlantic."
"I wonder if it's a hazard of the job or a deliberate choice. Also, what about tabloids? Anything juicy out there?"
My phone rings with an incoming call, interrupting Laurie's answer. However, before I can even look at the screen, the phone stops ringing, and a FaceTime call pops up instead.
"It's Edward."
"What are you waiting for? Answer it. I'll make myself scarce." She grabs her mug and her muffin and retreats to the couch after patting my shoulder on her way out.
Deep breath. Then, on the fourth "bloop" of the FaceTime tone, I press "Accept."
A smiling, sleep-rumpled, bare-chested Edward appears on my screen, and I nearly lose my cool. "Good morning, you."
Rubbing his free hand over his eyes, he stretches, yawning a little. "Hello, gorgeous. Is this too early? Am I intruding?"
"No, and no. It's breakfast time here if I want to get to the office at a decent hour. Where's Harper?"
He chuckles. "Hard to believe, but she's still sleeping. If that's the effect you have on my daughter's sleep patterns, I'll have to keep you around."
"Good to know. How're you feeling today, after … well, everything?"
He lets out the sexiest little sigh. "God, you're so fucking beautiful. And I feel … wonderful, if a little pissed at myself for freaking out last night."
"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. I haven't been in a relationship in a while either."
His sculpted eyebrows scrunch up in a dubious frown. "Oh. You … haven't? But I thought … Wait, no. Scratch that. None of my fucking business." He ends the sentence with a grumble.
I sit down on the nearest barstool and ponder how to react to his words. Then it dawns on me. "We haven't had a lot of time to ourselves, have we? Time to discuss personal stuff, I mean. So, if there's anything you want to ask, ask away. I'm an open book."
He grimaces again, then closes his eyes. When he opens them again, there's a new sense of determination in the cast of his features. "I don't want to sound like a jealous bastard. But I'm curious," he admits sheepishly.
"Okay. Let's hear it."
"I ran into a dark-haired guy in a suit in your office a while ago. He was in a couple of pics in that awful tabloid spread—"
I nod. It figures he'd be curious about Riley. "That's Riley. We worked together in New York. In fact, he lived with Laurie and me until we moved to Seattle for work three years ago. He's like a brother to me."
"Sounds like there's a good story there," Edward replies. "But you've never …"
I shake my head, smiling when I remember that night in New York outside the Guggenheim. "The spark was never there, you know? Not for lack of trying either."
"Really? That sounds like another story I wanna hear. But I didn't call at seven-thirty in the morning to have the 'ex' talk." He runs a hand over his face, stifling a yawn. "I actually have a question."
I get lost in him for a second as I watch him scratch his chest with his free hand, and my gaze falls on the baby footprint tattoo on his left pec. "Is that Harper's foot?"
He chuckles, but there's a naughty sparkle in his green eyes. "My eyes are up here, baby. But yeah, that's Harper's. I got this soon after she came to live with me."
"I think it's very sweet." And sexy, and I believe my blush has potentially given me away.
"Back to my original question. This Christmas bash you're throwing on Friday …" I answer with a nod, and he goes on. "Can I bring more than one plus one?"
The question's intriguing. "Sure, I don't see why not. But … may I ask who you're bringing?"
He flashes me one of his full-octane smiles, and my brain goes blank for a second.
"Jasper and … my parents. We can play tag keeping Harper entertained if they come along."
"I'd love to see Jasper. And your parents are more than welcome."
Edward nods, then his expression turns serious. "Will you go out on a date with me, Bella? Just you and me. No friends. No roommates. No siblings. No kids. No interruptions."
I can't stop the smile on my face. Or the blush. "I'd love to, Edward."
"That's … really fucking good, baby. How about this Saturday? Now that my parents are back from my dad's book tour, they can keep Harper overnight." I can't help noticing that Edward's slightly blushing too.
"I bet she loves those sleepovers. Back up the wagon, you said book tour?"
"You caught that, didn't you? Writing historical novels is Dad's side hustle. Not that he needs one," Edward explains, snickering.
Laurie has all but disappeared from the kitchen, so she can't eavesdrop on this vital information.
"Does he write under a pen name?" Please say yes.
"C.E. Masen. It's a mix of his mother's maiden name and his initials."
Holy crap. "Laurie's gonna shit a brick when she meets him. C.E. Masen is only her favorite author ever. Brace yourself for a fangirl moment."
Edward's reaction is a full-on belly laugh. "I'd pay good money to see that."
"And we'll both keep that detail a secret until Friday, how's that?"
Nodding, he chuckles again, but whatever he's about to say falls by the wayside when Harper's voice resonates offscreen. "Daddy!"
"Here she comes. Wildflower, do you want to say good morning to Bella?"
Harper's delighted squeal comes across loud and clear. "Bewwa? Show me!" Her face appears in a corner of the screen when she jumps on the bed next to Edward, nestling her little face in the crook of his neck. "Hi, Bewwa!"
"Hello, Miss Harper. How are you this morning?"
She grimaces. "Hungry. Daddy, breakfast?"
He kisses her temple. "Yes, baby girl. Let's say goodbye to Bella so we can go downstairs and eat."
Harper waves and blows kisses at me. "Bye, Be-Bella." Cute as a button, she stumbles over her words, her face scrunched up in concentration.
I blow her a kiss. "Have a good day, Miss Harper."
"Don't I get a kiss?" Edward asks. Cheeky, sexy, adorable man.
"If you're a good boy maybe you'll get one later."
"Challenge accepted. 'Til later, Bells."
We're still both smiling like loons when the call ends.
Time to get ready for another day in the real world.
~~~DREAMS~~~
Two hours later, give or take, Laurie and I arrive at Swan Sounds, only to find Mick standing outside my office, evidently waiting for me.
At his somber expression, Laurie takes the hint. "Go ahead. I have things to do out here. I'll close your door, so nobody interrupts you."
I nod at her and step inside my domain. "Morning, Mick. What can I do for you today?"
He follows me without a word and takes a seat across from me at my desk while I hang my coat and nudge my laptop out of standby mode.
"Hey, Bells. Thank you for taking the time to see me."
"You've been kinda staking me out, keeping watch for me out here like this. Not like I have much of a choice, do I?"
He clears his throat, and a deep frown forms on his forehead. "No. I'm sorry about that. I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me after the latest events."
I can see his point of view, but at the same, I'm leery of his reasons for wanting to meet me. I don't think I can handle any more full-throated defenses of idiots and scammers who want to get off scot-free from all their wrongdoing.
"You're still a shareholder of this business, and you're still my father's closest friend and business partner. I can separate who you are and what you mean to me and this business from what your son and Rosalie have done. Unlike your wife." I grind out those last few words under my breath, but he catches it.
"Yeah. About that. I'm really fucking sorry Siobhan talked to you that way. I had no idea she'd do something of the sort, but I should've anticipated it. Protecting Emmett from himself has always been her greatest weakness. But that's the last time I let her do it. I'm done."
Those words are ominous and final. Mick's voice sounds weary, defeated, and plain pissed off all at the same time.
"What do you mean, Mick?"
He nods to himself as if he needs reinforcement for what he's about to say. He reaches inside his breast pocket and pushes an envelope toward me. "This is the first installment. Open it, please."
I do as he asks and find a check for forty thousand dollars inside. It's drawn on an account in Emmett's name and bears his signature. "Is this going to bounce?"
"You're absolutely entitled to be skeptical," he replies, sighing. "The check won't bounce. Em sold his car, and he's given me power of attorney to sell his condo. Whatever he clears on the sale will cover the rest of the money he owes the company."
"Not that I don't appreciate this, Mick. Because I do. But once again, you're cleaning up his mess, and he's not even here to own it."
Mick nods along with my words. "He can't be here. Because, as of now, I don't know where he is. I forced him to go to the DA and give up the goods about his friends at the docks. I also forced him to come clean with the DA about the embezzlement."
"Whoa. I didn't expect that."
"I was appalled when you confronted him with proof that he'd been stealing from you. To me, that was the most heinous crime he could commit because it's like he decided to throw the trust, loyalty, and affection Charlie—and you—always had for our family in the crapper. For money. To cover up his gambling. It's not what I've been trying to teach him his entire life. But stealing? And starting when Charlie was diagnosed? Hell, no. I've never understood the resentment Emmett harbored against you, and it's my own fault for believing Siobhan's judgment when the two of you were younger. She downplayed it all, said it was just kids quarreling. I never suspected there could be more to it. I just thought you had outgrown each other."
He's rambling, and I'm letting him because all of these revelations need to be out in the open. Enough with secrets. Enough with snide remarks. Enough with underhanded shit.
"I don't need to revisit why Emmett started thinking I was the enemy halfway through high school. I really don't. I loved him like a big brother, and he discarded me like trash. It hurt. It hurt all the more because Siobhan kept finding excuses for him, but I put that behind me. I got over it. When I took over as CEO here, I didn't expect him to welcome me with open arms and a red carpet. Stealing from me? Tarnishing Charlie's legacy? Not on my watch. Thank you for giving him an ultimatum that he finally had to take. Thank you for holding him accountable. What's happening with the DA?"
Mick nods, then heaves a deep sigh. "The organized crime unit of the Seattle PD had an investigation going. They knew about the illegal gambling ring, so they're welcoming Emmett's testimony. But he'll have to be guarded 24/7 until the trial, and he can't have any contact with his family or with the outside world. He's all but sequestered."
That should cure him of his delusions of grandeur pretty damn quick. "There's one more thing, Mick. Restitution and turning state's evidence may clear his slate with the company, but it won't clear it with Avalanche. He and Rosalie were in cahoots, passing info to the tabloids. We have evidence they're both in gross breach of the NDA they signed. They've both received cease and desist letters from the company and from Avalanche's lawyers, but it's not up to me to decide whether Avalanche sues them or not. If they decide to do so, I won't stop them."
"Shit. I saw how Rosalie treated you at times, but I'd hoped she'd come around."
Yeah, well. So much for hoping. "She's been fired, obviously."
He shakes his head, dejected. "As she should. Jesus. I'm so disappointed in her and Emmett both. I don't know what led them to do this, but I'm on your side one hundred percent. You've been doing wonders for this company, and one of Charlie's best decisions was to leave it in your hands. That's why … look, I won't beat about the bush. Here's what I've been doing lately." He pushes a manila folder across the desk toward me.
When I open it and leaf through it, I find a series of letters of intent, all signed by the acts he manages through his talent management company. "The Tomb Raiders, Brianna, Checkers & Chess, Jewel Jordan, Ladies of the Knight, Tommy D, DJ EY2? What's all this?"
"As a resigning minority shareholder, I can't commit the business to anything. But I can put my people on a path to doing business with the best music company on the West Coast, bar none. Consider this my parting gift."
I've caught those two words—resigning and parting. I wouldn't have forced him out, but it sure will make my life easier. "So, you're leaving? Is it a done deal?"
He shrugs. "Yes and no. I think my time here is over. Charlie and I created Swan Sounds for other musicians, so they wouldn't be screwed over like he was when he started out. But you're ushering in the next chapter, and you don't need me here holding your hand. I'll be around, helping you get those contracts signed. By the CEO, as they should. Then, when I find—or you find—someone willing to take over my share, I'll sell it and be out of your hair."
More endings. More beginnings. I can't help but appreciate his self-awareness and honesty. While his wife and eldest son failed me, he's been a rock. He couldn't stop his son's maneuvering, but he's human. I can't fault him for trusting that Emmett would finally turn over a new leaf. I can't lay Siobhan's actions at his door either. She has agency and free will and decided to use it to throw me under the bus—again.
"This feels very … final, Mick."
He gives me a wry smile. "That's not the only final thing, Bells."
Now I'm perplexed—and curious. "Oh?"
He sighs. "When I said I'm done, I meant it. Siobhan refuses to see how shitty and wrong it is of her to always defend Emmett, even in the face of bulletproof evidence. She also refused to see why we can't just sweep Emmett's latest stunt under the rug and pay to 'make it go away.' I've asked her for a trial separation, and I've moved out."
"Shit, Mick. Are you okay with that?"
He props his elbows on the desk, leaning toward me. "I will be. I'd rather stand up for what's right than keep fighting windmills for the rest of my life. Siobhan and Emmett are free to stick their heads in the sand, but they'll be doing that without me."
"Do Jon and Alec know?" Those two have always played second fiddle to Emmett's hijinks, but they've also always loved their parents fiercely.
"I took them out for dinner a few days ago and explained things. They're taking it …" Words fail him, and he tosses up his hands. "They're taking it."
"For what it's worth, I've never, nor will I ever, hold Emmett's shit against you. There's only so much you can do to keep someone on the straight and narrow. He's an adult—he decided to go out there and crime his way through life. Time to pay the piper."
"My philosophy exactly."
Mick nods to himself, then stands. I follow suit and circle around my desk to hug him.
"I'm sorry it's come to this, Mick. Don't be a stranger."
"I won't. I'll help you get those deals signed."
An awkward, uneasy silence descends between us, but it doesn't last. Clipped, angry voices intrude from outside, and the door slams open, revealing Laurie as she tries to block Rosalie from forcing her way into my office.
"Let me go in! I need to talk to her!" Rosalie yells.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Mick murmurs. He's still standing close to me. "Rosalie, you're no longer an employee of Swan Sounds. What the hell are you doing here?"
She's incensed and looks a little unkempt, as if the stick up her ass has been forcibly dislodged.
In the background, I spy Edward standing in the lobby, a concerned frown on his face. He points to me and mouths, "Are you okay?"
I nod at him but also wave him in. If Rosalie's on the warpath, there's a chance Avalanche's lawyers may be involved.
Eyes blazing, hands balled into tight fists, mouth pressed into a thin line—Rosalie is seething. Too bad she has zero right or reason to feel this way. Whatever avalanche of shit is headed her way is completely self-inflicted.
"You're suing me now! Why? I didn't do anything wrong!"
The banes of my existence are both drowning in a huge dose of karma today, and while I do have other things to do, reveling in these new developments doesn't exactly suck. On the contrary.
I cross my arms and turn toward Rosalie. Because I also have zero fucks left to give, my response is far less polished than normal. "Are you really that stupid?"
She hisses at me. She's throwing a full tantrum at this point. "You're pathetic. You had to resort to suing me to get rid of me?"
Edward clears his throat and steps beside me. "Did you even read that cease and desist?" he asks.
"Rosalie, I didn't sue anyone. Yet. But you're getting on my nerves, and you've been fired, so you have no legitimate reason to be here. Your complaints are perfectly useless."
"But I didn't do anything wrong! Emmett said it was okay to give him pictures," she admits in a lower voice.
Jesus. "I really don't know what Charlie saw in you when he mentored you because my father wasn't in the habit of employing idiots. Did you even understand the NDA you signed? It meant you can't pass to any outside people any information about the band. And of course, Emmett duped you into doing his bidding."
Mick shakes his head, grumbling loudly. "And if my moron of a son asks you to jump, will you ask how high, Rosalie? Really?"
Rosalie turns up her nose, undaunted, and spits some more scathing words at Mick and Edward. "All of you circling the wagons, protecting the stuck-up princess. She's ruining this company. Emmett showed me all the money she stole. All for those designer frocks she wears. Like that!" She points at my outfit of the day—which is ironic because I'm wearing a pair of thrifted vintage jeans.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, stop it! You're ridiculous, and you're not doing yourself any favors. Sit down, Rosalie Hale, and hear the goddamn truth once and for all," Mick yells.
Relieving me of the burden of telling Rosalie in how many ways she's fucked things up—first by being a total bitch to her boss, then by believing the crap Emmett's been feeding her—Mick relays a barebones version of Emmett's house of cards. The more Mick details the depth of Emmett's scheming and cheating, the more Rosalie blanches.
"But … but … but …"
"But you believed him, and this will be your downfall." I shut her up when she starts protesting. I'm not interested in her excuses. "There's one thing I'd like to know. What did you think you'd get out of this?"
She looks down, visibly chastised, and murmurs something.
"Louder, Rosalie. We can't hear you," Edward prompts. He's been only listening so far, and these words are his first major contribution to the conversation with his usual brand of sarcasm thrown in for good measure.
"He said you'd go away, and the company would be mine."
I can't help but laugh in her face—the depth of her delusion is unfathomable. "Jesus Christ, woman. Have you had a personality transplant since Charlie died? Because he wouldn't have hired a toxic, delusional, arrogant schemer like you. He trusted you, or he wouldn't have mentored you for years."
"I wanted to manage the studio. But Charlie said it wasn't the job for me. When you came here, I was furious. What did you have that I didn't?"
Mick clicks his tongue. "I have no words, Rosalie. This is childish. Charlie and I were always very clear with you—you don't have the chops to manage the business. You're a good sound engineer, but you have no business skills."
"And her people skills fucking suck," Edward adds. "Do you realize how intrusive your little tabloid game has been? How harmful? Your little leaks could've ruined reputations. Or endangered my daughter's safety. But you don't care, do you?"
She falls into a chair. She's close to crying, but I'll be damned if I even pass her a Kleenex. Self-inflicted—she gets zero empathy for me. She doesn't deserve any of it.
"See, Rosalie. I could have handled you not liking me. Being the boss isn't a popularity contest. I don't need you to like me. What I do need, however, is for you to respect me. And I need to be able to trust you. You've been disrespectful and untrustworthy from day one. The fact that you let yourself be snowed so completely by Emmett's lies and deceptions doesn't help you one bit. In fact, you could still be sued for millions for all those NDA violations."
"Millions?" She blanches at my words.
Yes, Rosalie. Be afraid. Be very afraid because Avalanche's lawyers don't play around.
"You fucked around against the wrong people. Now you're about to find out." Surprisingly, it's Edward spitting those words back in her face.
"You're always defending her. Of course," Rosalie grinds out.
Edward stands beside me, his feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed on his chest—he's taking no shit. "Why wouldn't I? You're the one who insists on siding with a man who embezzled money from your mentor's company. If that's your thing, be my guest. But you won't be my friend."
"You're done here, Rosalie. Go home."
Defeated and isolated, Rosalie nods. "Will I ever find another job? Have you blacklisted me?"
I shake my head. "I didn't blacklist anyone. You did it all yourself with your disgusting behavior. You blacklisted yourself."
Mick stares her down, his face a mask of hard lines. "In this industry, you reap what you sow, Rosalie. I've always told you that. Now leave." He points to the door.
"What about the lawsuit?" she asks, looking at Edward.
"That sounds like a 'you' problem," he answers, caustic to the end.
Meanwhile, Mick walks out, gesturing to me that he'll call me later. Done with Rosalie and this conversation, I tell her to leave again, but she insists on speaking with Edward alone.
I'm about to protest, but he stops me. "She can't hurt me. If she has more vitriol to spew, let her. I'll give her what for. Can we use your office, love?"
Rosalie doesn't miss the endearment, and she pales, her face contorted in a frustrated grimace.
"Sure. Just let me know later if it needs sanitizing," I quip.
Before leaving, I make a point to kiss Edward's temple, and he leans into the kiss, almost purring in my ear. I walk out of my own office, leaving Rosalie in Edward's capable hands. Now that I've taken out the trash, it's time for some peace and quiet in the break room.
Fuck it, adulting is overrated.
More trash collection going on!
See you in the Lair on Monday for the #AfterChapterParty.
Love,
Momo