FreshSqueezedLemons

Bella "Ice" Swan leads a life of luxury and loneliness. Strong and independent, sexy shoes, avoiding romantic entanglements. What happens when she meets her match in the form of dripping sex on legs, PR hotshot, Edward Cullen? There is something between them, but there is no telling how far back the seed of desire goes. Sometimes, one soul has enough power to open the door formed around a broken heart. All you need is a splinter to make it through.

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Splintered Door

Chapter 1

Louboutin and Lust

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The vast expanse of nothingness, dry desolate desert, spans beneath me now. The beige and brown breadth beneath me passes in a blur, bringing the playground into view with each lapsing moment. Knowing I am approaching the limitless lights and lingering luxuries, brings a passing smile to my lips. I sip my glass of champagne and let the slight bubbles sting my sinful thoughts that seem to be burning through my lips. I come here enough to know the rules, and I am no novice. I love this city!

I always plan ahead. I travel like a pro, one carry-on and one checked bag. If the scheduled trip were a bit shorter, then I could have forgone the checked bag. This is a heavy publicity week and I need the additional supplies—shoes. I may have an affinity for fabulous footwear, or an addiction. It's all semantics. The shoes are not negotiable.

As I exit the gate, I finger my BlackBerry and respond to a few emails pertaining to this week that I missed in flight. Knowing I'll still be checking my messages, I set up an out of office reply, but hopefully this will divert any unnecessary correspondence that can be handled by someone else in my office… I'm in Vegas!

Waiting by the luggage carousel I take a large swallow of my water. Then I apply a generous portion of glossy moisturizer to my lips. Dehydration is an unfortunate effect of air travel, and I usually never have a cocktail, but this is Vegas after all.

Finally the buzzer sounds, and I notice the conveyer belt begin to sputter to life. The endless sea of black and brown begin their assent around the belt. I stand back a bit and observe. You can always distinguish the experienced from the novices. Most of the latter mentioned, bobbing their heads up and down. The novice Vegas traveler always nervously glances from side to side anticipating their luggage. As if it will speed the inefficient process of it all, thus commencing with their festivities immediately; that is the crazy insanity of this city. Most people on their arrival are excited and giddy at the endless possibilities that await them; upon departure those same life sucked souls are barely more than coherent… Amateurs.

That is when I notice him… Actually, I notice many women noticing him. How could they not? I'm momentarily taken back by bronze-brown strands of hair perfectly sculpted in chunky deliberate sections. His piercing grey-green bedroom eyes, tight jaw with a strong chin, very angular. Perfectly sculpted features, in a Marc Jacobs suit, reach out to sweep his expensive looking bag off the belt. Black. His motion is smooth, controlled and effortless as his fingers grasp the handle and sweep the latch to extend the arm. Large, long beautiful fingers… I have a thing for hands. He glances in my direction as he glides on by. Long legs, lithely leading the way he exits the doors into the scorching dry heat of the desert.

I am not staring; I am actually watching the other women that are staring open mouthed and wet from anticipation. I want to let them all in on my secret knowledgethis is one man to stay away from. Besides, you should conserve all natural moisture that your body possesses, no matter where it comes from, because this is the desert and it is harsh on your skin.

I am all too familiar with his kind; he is not your typical player. He is dangerous. He'll make you feel like you are the only woman in the world—in his world, and he'll say all the right things. He wields his words, like weapons that woo you unknowingly. He lures you in and takes what he wants for as long as he wants it. The sex is hot but the onslaught of empty promises sends you down the rabbit hole of despair, longing for him even more. Your weekend becomes the worst and best memory of your life. I learned long ago, the hard way, to avoid his kind at all cost. Even the sex is not worth the emptiness. Well maybe, depends if you enjoy disappointment.

It's my job to know things, people, what people want. In advertising it is all about what people think they want, and I tell them what that is. Unfortunately, that is the kind of man every woman thinks she wants. If I could change that image in their minds, then I would truly be a millionaire, possible billionaire, but even I am not that good. That kind of sex on legs who knows what he has and intentionally uses it, to manipulate the masses, is impenetrable even through mass advertising to the contrary. So I do what every other person in my field does—I sell it. It is the love/hate that stupid women everywhere buy into… And they spend a lot of money doing it.

My car is waiting for me by the curb. The driver opens my door and loads my things into the car. As I bend over to lean in, my jaw falls… WTF, he is in my car!

"Hi, I am Edward…" He extends his hand to me, his voice fluid and eyes penetrating.

"Edward…" I nod. "What are you doing in my car?" I ignore his offer of a formal introduction.

His laughter resonates deep in the back of his throat. Damn that laugh is sexy.

"I was under the impression that this is Mr. Volturi's car, and I am expected to meet with him in less than an hour. So, if you don't mind... Get in. I detest being late." He's eyes narrow and he flashes a smile that unnerves me to the core. Cocky ass… Sexy or not! I had him pegged in mere minutes.

"I have a meeting with Mr. Volturi in an hour," I state plainly, I'm now a bit confused and irritated. I hate surprises and petty games.

"Isabella is it? Maybe, if you checked your correspondence and were prepared, you wouldn't be pissing me off right now by holding us up. Do you mind?" He gestures for me to enter completely into the car so the driver can shut my door.

I slip in and the driver hurries around to take off. I search my BlackBerry quickly sensing I have missed something rather important…I locate the overlooked email:

'Ms. Swan,

I will have a car waiting as usual. However you will be accompanied to my hotel, by my new PR man, Mr. Edward Cullen. He should be arriving the same time as you. This is a great opportunity for introductions. We will be working closely this week. Oh, enjoy a glass of champagne from the bucket. I insist.

Best,

Mr. Aro Volturi'

Fuck! Just what this predator needs, a leg up. How did I overlook this email? Damn. Think, Bella.

I hear the glasses clink and look over to notice Mr. Sex pouring two from the opened bottle. Crap.

"Isabella." He hands me a glass. "Here's to new accounts and new acquaintances." He smirks, his eyes are piercingly beautiful.

"Accounts and Advertisements." I attempt to gain control, this is all horribly wrong; he is the last man that needs the upper hand. I tip my glass his direction and take a generous sip, maintaining eye contact with him.

"So did you locate your missing email?" He smirks again.

Damn I wish he would stop that. It's making my mind fuzzy, and I am a professional I deal with his kind all the time. Get a grip Bella.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen, you obviously know I have." My eyes narrow as I subconsciously lick my bottom lip.

"Maybe it's your phone… You should look into an upgrade, an iPhone perhaps?"

"My BlackBerry is perfectly equipped, and I like it thank you."

"Then maybe you need to step up your game a little." He takes his last swig of bubbles and places the glass down gently.

Okay, game on Mr. Sex… "Mr. Cullen I can assure you that I am on the top of my game, and I happen to make the rules. You should pay attention and maybe you can learn a little something." He seems distracted, but recovers quickly.

"Edward… please, call me, Edward."

"Well, Edward, we're here. This was pleasant and I am so looking forward to our meeting in forty minutes, but I have to go to my room... So if you will excuse me." I smile and exit the car. He smirks. Ugh.

The gentleman at the counter knows me and has my key card ready. I tote my carry on and leave my other bag to be sent up. I look at my key card and notice this is one of the newly refurbished suites Mr. Volturi is excited about. As I push my way into the suite, I breathe in the fresh scent. "Relax and Respire." Something I came up with for one of the hotel's previous campaigns, if you walk into a fresh room, immediately inhaling a subtle scent, your journey sweeps you away instantly. Scent is a powerful factor in memory association. You typically associate your experiences with individual scents and if it is a pleasant one, you want to continue to engage in things to fill you with that desired scent.

I continue to explore the suite. The expansive floor to ceiling windows overlook the city strip and tonight with the lights that is sure to be an amazing view. It is a simple layout there is a lounge area, large bedroom and an oversized bathroom. The latter commands my attention first; containing a standalone shower, huge sunken tub with a mini waterfall spout, and a wall mounted TV displayed above. That looks inviting. The décor is ultra modern and chic. The use of marble and granite blends with the muted purples, and grays, of the entire suite. Black leather sofa and chairs adorn the lounge. Luxurious, purple linens on the bed and silk panels flank the windows very sleek—sexy. I am not a big fan of purple, but it is tasteful and it works in the room.

My eyes drift over to the tub as I freshen up my hair and makeup in the mirror. I remove my remaining gloss and line my perfect pout, in Half-Red my, favorite Mac pencil, filling my lips in. I hate to leave lip marks on glasses or anything else, so I only wear a pencil in professional situations. The color provides contrast to my ultra creamy white skin. I sweep a brush over my tiny features and darken the line on the top of my lids in chocolate charcoal, near my lashes. It makes the deep browns of my eyes really pop. Quickly, I run my fingers through my dark brown locks fingering the pieces and adding a touch of movable spray as they fall slightly past my shoulders. A slight spray of perfume and a huge swallow of bottled water. I am definitely ready for this meeting.

I grab my papers as I slip on my Louboutin's, four inch black patent peep-toe-pumps appropriately named Sexy. A knock on the door reminds me my bag is being sent up. I swing the door open quickly as I bend down, removing my finger from the heel of my shoe.

"Wow… Hot shoes." His voice and smile makes my mind fuzzy again. As I look up, I realize I am still bent forward a bit, providing a show for Mr. Sex himself. I straighten up quickly, and send him a WTF glance.

"What are you doing here?" I snap.

"I thought I'd save the man a trip. You only have this one small, pink bag and since I am just across the hall, well I thought I would bring it just in case you needed something from inside." There it is… That freakin' smile.

Don't look at it… Don't focus on him.

"Thank you, but I don't need it. I have everything I need with me and it's only pink because it's easy to spot in the endless sea of black and brown at the airport. That way I don't have to bounce up and down like Girls Gone Wild, looking for my bag, drawing unwanted attention." Maybe that will shut him up.

"Interesting." He seems distracted.

"What?" My eyes narrow.

"You. You look like a woman and you smell like a woman, but you travel like a man, minus the pink." He takes a breath through his nose. "Shall we?" He motions towards the elevator, for me to accompany him.

I grab my phone, the materials I need for the meeting and nod. "Let's go." I meet his gaze as I slide past him. The close proximity of our bodies is unnerving even in passing.

The elevator is rather uncomfortable. I can smell his cologne mixing with my subtle scent and the aroma is intoxicating. His dark suit complements his intentionally messy hair, and I notice he has changed his shirt and tie. A grayish green shirt and dark olive silk tie that highlight the subtle flecks in his eyes. Those eyes are deeply distracting, like looking at an exquisite piece of jewelry located behind a glass case at the Tiffany & Co counter.

I am five-six and with these heels, nearly six foot, yet he still beats me by a few inches. Damn could this elevator go any slower? We have stopped on three floors already, with no one entering. I hear him clear his throat and it makes me look. Crap! I wish I hadn't. He is running his long capable fingers through his hair and meets my gaze. His hand plunges down into his pocket and returns with an offering.

"Mint?"

I shake my head. "I don't care for the minty flavor, thank you."

"It's a cinnamon mint?"

"Oh…umm...Okay thanks." Maybe he prefers non-minty things as well. That's interesting. Why? What am I doing? Stop thinking about him. This is what those girls do, not me. I know what I am looking for. Simple, no complications.

He takes another deep breath in through his nose. "Slow elevator, you should talk to Aro about it. That's more your thing."

"My thing? I handle the advertising, not the maintenance." I raise an eyebrow and glance at the chauvinist dripping sex in his wake.

"Exactly, you could use the speed or lack thereof, of said elevator in a new ad campaign." He adds the mind fuzzing smile.

"Oh right, the slow, excruciating torture of being stuck in an elevator with a chauvinistic PR man. That would definitely sell out rooms. Why didn't I think of that?" I smirk, flashing my pearly whites briefly, hoping he feels the statement dripping with my intended sarcasm and disdain.

"I do not find myself superior to the female persuasion. Actually, I find them... Enticing. I was kind of running a shot of a business man stepping into an elevator with a sexy ad lady. As they're making their descent slowly to the lobby, both of them are debating whether they have enough time to cut the sexual tension right here, right now. You know what happens in Vegas stays…"

"That slogan is used up. You must have a great imagination Mr. Cullen, to have thought that imaginary scenario up. Perhaps you are in the wrong industry. Maybe people aren't really your forte." He produces that deep chuckle again, that registers a twinge of excitement within me.

"No, I know people. I read people like an open book, and I know how to sell people to other people, especially women." He enunciates the last word.

I return the laugh with te^te-a-te^te. "See, there is that chauvinistic innuendo again. You just can't seem to escape it. You don't know women, you devour them. You give them what you want to give them, while taking whatever it is you desire. Many stupid, naïve, young women may fall for your antics, but trust me once they encounter a tempting, venomous creature such as yourself they learn. Never to be fooled again. I can assure you, you do not know what women want."

"Ms. Swan, are you suggesting you find me tempting?" His lips form a slight pucker as he manipulates my surname with them. He smiles now, showing all of his perfect white teeth. My mind fuzzes, fucking traitorous mind.

Thankfully the doors rush open at that exact moment, and I ignore his last comment entirely. I step out first and find my way to the conference room we are to be meeting in. Mr. Sex keeps stride with me reaching out for the door before I can object. He opens it, allowing me to enter first.

"Ahhh... Ms. Swan. I trust you have had a comfortable trip, thus far?" Mr. Volturi reaches out and kisses the air on both sides of my cheeks, then diverts his glance to Mr. Sex himself. "Mr. Cullen so nice to finally meet you in person, have you had the pleasure of getting acquainted with Ms. Swan?" He holds out a hand for formality.

"Yes, the pleasure indeed." Mr. Sex smiles a quick side glance my direction with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, well, come in sit." Mr. Volturi motions to the sofa and two chairs on either side of a high top coffee table. He is very expressive with his hands, but they are thin and small—almost effeminate. He stands shorter than I, especially in my heels, and he wears his black hair a bit longer than a traditional American business man. Aro is Italian and surprisingly sincere, very professional, with impeccable manners. A tad strange, but he has never given me any reason to mistrust him so we get on well.

The furnishings mimic the décor of the hotel's modern chic flair, no purples here though; the colors are black and gray with accents of red. I choose a leather chair quickly and set my bag upon the table, flipping open my laptop and organizing papers. I watch through my peripheral as Mr. Sex consciously chooses the long, black leather sofa directly opposite me. Mr. Volturi nestles himself in the other chair aside me, a very professional distance away, ready to conduct business. I have worked with him on his hotel campaigns for a couple years.

"Please pardon me, would either of you care for anything, coffee, water, or something a bit stronger perhaps?" Mr. Volturi offers with impeccable manor and grace. His voice has a certain pitchy quality to it, almost overly formal as he fondles the words he forms.

"Water would be great, Thank you," I speak up first.

"If it isn't too much trouble, coffee would be excellent. It's four o'clock already and after the flight, I am feeling a bit sluggish." Mr. Sex is an afternoon coffee drinker? I am doing it again, stop!

Mr. Volturi buzzes someone to bring us coffee and waters. Then he begins explaining he and his hotel are looking to expand their image and presence with a night club here in Vegas. He continues that this would be similar to the clientele he currently draws, high end, but that he is hoping to add some appeal to lure some bigger names, endorsements for more publicity. We cover some basics as we each contribute our initial feelings and respective input.

The meeting goes smoothly and my ideas are well received by both gentlemen. As we wrap the meeting, I glance at my BlackBerry noticing it is almost six. We agree to meet again in the morning at ten. I appreciate the chosen hour so I can unwind tonight and not have to rush in the morning. Since tomorrow is Saturday, it seems reasonable. We say our goodbyes, and I rush out the door hoping to lose my trail.

Crap the ridiculously slow elevator. I forgot.

I wait. And wait.

"That went well, wouldn't you agree Ms. Swan?"

Damn!

I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling, trying to force his velvet voice from behind my ear. Actually, annoyingly close behind my ear. Why is he so close to me?

I step forward slightly and turn on my toes. Our faces are mere inches apart. It takes me by surprise, as I teeter back slightly and his arm reaches out to right me by my waist. I clear my throat slightly and try to swallow, my breath hitches. I release myself from his grasp quickly, as the doors finally open, stepping in gingerly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He follows me into the elevator.

Just the two of us again. Weren't there any other fucking people staying at this hotel?

"You didn't startle me, but thanks."

"Perhaps your heels are a little too high then?" He starts the game once again.

"My shoes are perfect. I have no problems I can assure you… I know exactly how to maneuver in my fucktastic heels." I try a different tactic, perhaps more directness will shut him down.

He looks stunned, slightly, but clears his throat, adjusts himself briefly and recovers quickly. "Perhaps it's just my tempting nature then, which knocks you unsteady."

"Look we obviously are going to have to work together on this project. We are here for a week, and then it will be many more months until this project sees completion. So can we quit the games? I am not interested in your sexual expertise, and I would like to just remain professional. Do you think that would be possible Mr. Se… Cullen?" Damn, he has my mind fuzzy again and I almost slipped up.

"Professional. Absolutely. How about dinner?"

"I don't think that is a good idea."

"Why? Would it tempt you too much? Curious about my sexual expertise are you?" He wields the dangerous smile again.

"Okay… That is exactly what I am talking about. Just forget it. I'm tired. Thank you for your offer, but I am going to turn in early." I need to get away from him, he smells amazing, his smile is too distracting, and I can't stop looking into his eyes.

"In Vegas?"

"Yes."

"Really… You're going to sleep?" He flashes his look again.

Ugh.

"Good evening Mr. Cullen. Enjoy your night."

"Oh I will. Enjoy your rest." His voice is thick and warm. I want to wrap myself inside and bathe in it. Fuck.

"Thank you." It's the only response I can muster without my voice betraying me.

I enter my suite and immediately rush to the luxurious bath calling my name. I run the water, slip off my suit skirt and jacket, then my camisole, thigh high stockings, and panties. I plug in my iPod and turn up the music as I pour myself a glass of red wine, courtesy of Mr. Volturi—a Barbaresco—thoughtful. As music fills my ears and the wine my mouth, I ease into the steaming hot bath and lie back. "Ahhh…" My music mix starts off slow and moody, perfectly fitting, echoing my given mood.

Hugh… Like he thinks I would go out with him. Like that heavy breath of velvet behind my ear would work on me, or his strong grip could make me melt. Did he really see me as one of those easy targets? Ugh… Please. I never intended on staying in my room tonight. I also never intend on going out with him.

I get out of the tub, pour myself another glass of wine, and order something from room service. Suddenly, I'm starving. I follow up some email correspondence and make a few business calls while I wait. My food arrives around eight, just as I finish the last of some work details. I enjoy my filet and asparagus tips... Alone.

By eight thirty, I change the genre on my iPod to some club music, crank it up, and begin to blow out my hair and apply my makeup. I select a short black dress that fits my body's every curve. It has a draping, flowy neck line and it's fitted through the thighs. It's a hot dress but not trampy—Seductive. I finish it off with a pair of hot pink, strappy stilettos that have an ankle cuff with a crystal clasp. I put a few essentials in a small crystal clutch and look for final approval in the refection in front of me. While I wasn't a twenty something anymore, I looked good. I have the money now to buy the things that complement my assets, and I am great with hair and makeup thanks to Alice. I know what I want and how to get it, also courtesy of Alice. Maybe I should give her a quick call. I glance down at my phone and decide I'll do it later as I let the door click shut behind me.

I head for the elevator, praying for the speed it seems completely incapable of. The doors finally open and to my relief Mr. Sex is nowhere to be seen. The doors close and a few passengers join for the slow decent this time, figures. I glance at my phone again and notice it's almost nine, perfect. I hail a cab and give the name of my favorite club. As I slide out and up to the front of the velvet rope the bouncer smiles and waves me in, I know a few people. After ten years of working my way to the top, there are some benefits other than just money.

The heavy bass and shaking speakers fill the entire club. I decide to head to the bar for a little fun. As I ease up and score a seat, I notice a few men taking a look which I ignore.

I didn't have to say anything. As Emmett notices me, he winks and I nod with a smile. Before I know it, I have a shot of Patron with a lime and a San Pellegrino in a glass.

"Hey beautiful." Emmett's grin is wide. He is a large guy well built dark hair and clear blue eyes.

"Hey Em, how have you been?" I return his smile. Emmett and I have hooked up a few times, but we remain just friends. He's hot but younger, working his way through college still. No strings, a fun plaything. Perfect.

"Good, you beautiful? It's been awhile."

"Great… Just busy that's all. It's all good." I take the shot and slide my glass towards him.

"I'll keep my eye on you; let me know when you're ready for another… It's gonna be busy tonight, several conferences in town this weekend. Bick International, North American Bride, Global Apps and a Belly Dancing convention all opened today"

"Bick? I don't know that one."

"Oh coin, currency, stamps…" Emmet rattles it off.

"Fantastic—nerdy geeks, techno freaks, wanna-be brides, and half-naked women who know how to move their bodies illegally, fun times."

"Yep it is a great combo." He winks again and walks off to help some other patrons.

I feel a little better and let the bass fill my bones. There are so many hot songs right now it makes me want to get up and dance. I decide to sit and people watch instead, for a while.

"Well hellooo."

The voice annoys me instantly and I swivel around to meet this encounter head on.

"Were you attempting to address me?" I look him up and down and decide instantly he is not what I want. He is nice looking but arrogant. I detest arrogant.

"I… Was… Just..."

"Hey beat it. Beautiful here isn't interested." Emmett walks up with another shot, and smiles.

I smile. As the dejected guy moves on down to seek an easier target. "Thanks Em." I take the shot and send the glass back. "But you can't chase them all away. Besides, I know how to take care of myself."

"Trust me Bella, I know too well… But he is as ass. You don't want any of that."

I laugh. "No. Not interested in that, but I wouldn't mind dancing tonight so could you not scare them all away?"

"Sure beautiful, but I'll have my eye on you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way. Thanks Em."

I watch as the hilariously interesting dance begins all around me. You could film this entire display, the interaction between male and female in a nightclub, and put it on animal planet; we're no different from any other creatures out there… in heat. We simply wear clothing.

"Hi, my name is Jake."

Now this sounds promising. I turn to see a dark haired, dark eyed, tall and extremely buff man. He's not really my type, my type is more the fuckhot Mr. Sex whom I am desperately trying to avoid, but I can appreciate his beautiful qualities and I would like to dance.

"Bella." I shake the offer of his hand.

"So Bella, are you waiting for someone this evening?"

"Just you Jake." I almost feel bad as he chokes slightly on what I assume is a Jack and Coke.

"Guess it's my lucky night. What are you drinking, may I get you something?" His eyes are kind, dark, like delicious chocolate.

"I'm good right now, thank you."

"You don't drink?" He glances at my sparkling water.

"I do. I'm drinking right now." I hold my water glass and smile.

"That's not quite what I meant."

It usually is fun, making them sweat a bit, but I should ease up a tad. This one is kind of sweet.

"I've had some tequila, and I'm simply hydrating right now." I smile.

"Shots?"

"Umm… Yeah." I squish my lips to the side like a question.

"Wow."

"Jake… Is it?" I lean in to him a bit.

"Yes?"

"Is there something wrong with shots…Jake?"

"No. I ugh… It's just you look like more of a wine kind of gal. I wouldn't have pegged you for shots of tequila."

"Hmm… Well is that a good thing that you can't read me or a disappointment?"

"It's a nice surprise." Jake smiles with a bit of trepidation.

"Really how?" Here I go again, sometimes I can't help myself.

"Umm… It just reveals a side that says you aren't afraid to let your hair down…"

"Well Jake, my hair is literally already down, I've had two tequila shots and two glasses of wine in my hotel room prior. So what does that say about me?"

Okay maybe that was a tad evil. I just couldn't resist he has the freakin' cutest dimples and they pop out every time he blushes a bit.

He almost chokes on his drink again but recovers—smoothly—as he sets down his empty glass and motions for the bartender.

"Hey man—a shot of tequila." Jake glances at me quickly as I answer.

"Patron." I smile

"Patron, another Pellegrino for the lady, and I'll take another Jack and Coke, thanks," he continues.

Emmett smiles at me and brings the drinks back with a lime.

"Could we get some salt too? Thanks man," Jake addresses Emmett.

"Beautiful here doesn't do salt. If you want some though..." Emmett replies, glances at me and smiles.

"Na Man, thanks." Jake hands Emmett some cash.

"So Jake, it's nice to meet you." I raise my glass and tip it to him before I swallow it back. They are going down a bit too easy now. I really need to lay off for a few and consume all of my water before another round of shots.

"Bella… Want to dance?"

"Love to." I used to be clumsy and hated to dance but that changed when I met… Anyhow I actually enjoy the freedom of the music taking over my body, and I like to dance when I'm at a club. Since I do a fair amount of advertising for this industry, I enjoy dancing now.

He towers over me he must be at least six-four, super buff. He has on a tight black t-shirt that fits snug against his huge arms, and a pair of khaki pants. This place has a dress code, no jeans. Upstairs you need a jacket to enter. We dance for several songs until he finally announces he is parched and needs a break.

"Would you like something else to drink, Bella?"

I drink my water. "No I'm good right now. Thank you."

Jake goes to order a drink and I move further down the bar where there are two seats together. I smile as I see him approach.

"The bartender told me you needed another water." Jake shrugs his shoulders and hands me a Pellegrino in a glass with a lime.

"Thank you, Jake." I smirk.

"So Umm… You are not with him are you?"

I have been many times. I laugh. "No he just looks out for me, a big brother type." Even though he is much younger. I smile.

"You're a great dancer Bella." Jake sips his drink.

"Thanks, you aren't so bad yourself." I sip my water. "So Jake, what do you do?" Seems like the right thing to say.

"Oh I build houses. We have a small company and there is enough business here still, so I am taking advantage of it."

"Yeah the market took a huge hit in LA." I detest small talk, but I may want to dance again, so I play along.

"In San Diego too, that's where I am from originally. You?" He is very sweet and does have cute dimples.

"LA is home right now."

"What about you Bella, what do you do?" His dimples pop.

"I'm in advertising."

"Wow… That's cool." He seems young, and the dimples aren't helping.

"Yeah I love it. It fills my pragmatic and creative sides equally."

We talk comfortably for several minutes and enjoy the pounding bass from the dance floor.

"You're really interesting Bella." He finishes his drink. "If you'll excuse me for just a minute I have to use the restroom—don't leave—I'll be back." He smiles.

"I'll be here Jake." I almost have to laugh he is like a little lost puppy.

I finish my water and start on the next one. I feel the energy shift behind me and get a whiff of the beachy warmth. I hear him clear his throat, as I exhale a huge breath of his amazingly intoxicating scent.

"Ms. Swan, why I thought you were staying in tonight?" Mr. Sex was right in front of me.

Now I am the one almost choking. "Who let you in here?" I recover quickly.

"Well it's nice to see you too, Ms. Swan. Not drinking tonight?"

"Not with you!" I watch as two young blondes begin to descend, their radar set on Mr. Sex, like flies to honey. I smile as I turn.

Mr. Sex now has occupied the stool on my other side flanked by two young, fake blonds standing and leaning in close to him. He orders them another round of fruity shit and a scotch neat for himself. Fuck. He smells good and he has on a collared light blue shirt, top unbuttoned, dark jacket and pants.

Stop. Why are you thinking things about him? Get a grip. I sell this shit… Can't I differentiate between reality and fiction.

The blondes, dumb and dumber, are pretending they are wasted, which I believe is actually impossible considering they are consuming what it is really like a fruit smoothie, practically a meal for them. They are throwing themselves on Mr. Sex and I can hear him chuckle and say, "Slow down ladies the night is young."

I roll my eyes. Then look back as I hear Jake's voice

"Hey Bella, sorry that took so long this place is huge."

"I'm ready for another round if you are?" I offer.

"Absolutely."

"Emmett, man two more, and a Pellegrino." He flags Emmett down to this end now.

"So you're on a first name basis with the bartender now are you?" I tease.

Jake just smiles.

"How you doing beautiful?" Emmett winks at me waits for an answer.

"Great, Em. Thanks." I return his smile, like a secret code.

He walks away as he smiles at Jake.

"I'm still not sure I like how he says beautiful to you, it doesn't sound too brotherly." Jake slides a shot to me.

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow down my shot and feel Mr. Sex's back straighten up behind me.

"Yeah, I mean Emmett has the right idea, sort of. Look I am just going to apologize up front but… You are seriously gorgeous Bella." He downs his shot and motions for me to take his hand out to the dance floor again.

I happily oblige and notice Mr. Sex himself choking a bit now. With a huge smile across my face, I follow Jake to the dance floor. We dance again for several songs and he touches my waist and hands with his own. It feels good and I'm finally relaxed and enjoying myself immensely. After a few songs I glance around and suddenly catch Mr. Sex himself staring directly at me, I shift my glance and turn back around to face Jake once again.

"You ready for another break yet?" Jake yell-whispers in my ear. I think the music has gotten even louder now.

"Yeah."

"You know that guy at the bar is seriously staring you down, you don't know him also, do ya?" Jake motions with a nod to Mr. Sex.

"Umm… Actually we kind of met today and started a work project together."

"Oh…" Jake seems satisfied with that answer.

We head back to the bar.

"Ms. Swan, having a good time are you?" Mr. Sex stares at Jake and then back to me as he plasters on one of those sexy smiles.

"Yes and you?" I shoot him a look that clearly says back off.

"Hi, I'm Edward." Mr. Sex introduces himself to Jake.

"Jake, nice to meet you Edward. So you are going to be working with Bella, are you in advertising also?" Jake is really too nice as he offers his hand to shake.

"No. Public relations, but we work for the same client currently." Mr. Sex is smooth, but staring at me oddly.

"Hey baby… We're empty again; you ready to get out of here?" One of the bimbos practically purrs in Mr. Sex's ear. Ugh, I think I vomit in my mouth a little.

"How about one more round." He motions for Emmett and orders drinks for all of us now. At least he has manners.

"Edward thanks man." Jake nods and is now buddy-buddy with not only my fuck buddy bartender, but also Mr. Sex himself, who I am desperately trying to avoid. I roll my eyes in Mr. Sex's direction, hoping he notices. My new buddies now chat, it up for a few minutes. At least Em is busy and can't betray me at the moment.

"Jake, have you met…my friends?" Mr. Sex asks.

Dumb and dumber, simper and giggle as they introduce themselves as Candy and, ironically, Cherry. Only in Vegas. I add another eye roll as I contemplate the shot Mr. Sex cockily ordered for me. He continues to wield his magic, letting Jake know that the fruit twins are a package deal and are not discerning in any way. Jake glances at me briefly before he is being dragged on to the dance floor with the Fruit and Confection concoction by his side.

Mr. Sex turns and smiles as if he's won this round. "You didn't drink the shot that I ordered for you?"

"I thought I made myself very clear, that I wasn't having drinks with you, I'll pass thanks."

"It's better than drinking alone." His sex laced voice is distracting.

Well fuck. Who could blame Jake really? The poor guy is probably drunk already and the two bimbos are kind of a given. Plus, he probably doesn't have to think to make conversation with them.

I cave, defeated and down the shot.

"Why Ms. Swan I thought you weren't having drinks with me?"

"I'm not. I'm downing a shot that is sitting in front of me. You are drinking over there and we are not speaking to each other."

"Actually you were just speaking to me, Ms. Swan."

"Okay you can drop the fucking charade asshole. You know my name is Bella, and I happen to hate you referring to me as Ms. Swan constantly. Good night Edward."

---

A/N Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! For now Splintered Door is all going to be from BPOV if you are wondering what is going on in Edwards head you can check out my O/S Saved In The City Of Sin, It is the first few parts of this story but entirely from EPOV.

Now on to the Important stuff first a huge Thanks to lilmssomething who is fabulous, shares my addictions, and is my lovely prereader. Also a huge shout out to my newest ff soul sister maxipoo1024 she is amazing. I have her to Thanks for pushing me on this and she is my fantastic beta. Both these lovelies are on tiwitter along with me branchirps come find us.

I will be posting some photos and goodies on my profile page check it out soon. If you liked anything reviews are great, and if you want to just lurk I hope you come back often.