Fanfiction based on Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight Series

Rated M for Mature

Molto Bella

By ObsessingOverEdward

Summary: Bella is an up-and-coming chef and Edward is a persnickety restaurant reviewer

with an axe to grind. Watch out! Things get pretty hot in the kitchen

~*~

Chapter One

Edward Masen

I stepped out of my car and took a deep draw of the crisp morning air. I loved the market in the morning.
The bakeries were placing their freshly baked breads and pasties out while the evening fisherman were
bringing in their fresh catch from their early morning trips. I felt a sense of nostalgia as I made my way to
the little coffee shop that I had frequented so often while I was in college.

The bell rang lightly as I pushed open the door and Antonio poked his head out of the back, grinning
widely when he saw me.

"Buon giorno, Edward." He came around the counter, wiping his hands on a towel and then grasped my
hand in a firm handshake.

"Ciao," I said with a smile.

"Where have you been? I used to see you every morning and now…I hear you're some big wig restaurant
reviewer." He walked back around the counter and filled a cup with straight black coffee.

"Yes, I started reviewing for Gourmet magazine about six months ago." He handed me my coffee and I
took a small sip, savoring the perfection that was Tony's coffee.

"What happened with the restaurant?"

"I sold it about a year ago. There was just too much headache. Now I can travel and critique other
restaurants."

"I still remember you just out of high school. You had such a passion for food."

I smiled at his comments as I took another sip of my coffee. The market had been very good to me. I
learned so much while I worked here in the mornings and weekends, making my way through college.
When I finally was accepted into the Culinary Academy, I had to give up working alongside some of the

most interesting characters I had ever met.

"So did you hear about Mike?" I shook my head and gave him a questioning look.

"They took the boat up to Alaska," he began. "The Alaskan salmon catch was in abundance this year.
Anyway, they got caught in some huge swells and it took the boat down. All eight men aboard lost their
lives."

"Wow," I said in stunned disbelief. Mike and I were hardly close. Actually, there was more animosity
then friendship, but we were always cordial with one another. "That's too bad. How is his wife taking it?"
I asked. Mike's wife, Jessica, was an interesting woman. She worked in the fish market and would always
flirt beyond what was appropriate for a married woman. That was mainly the reason why Mike and I
didn't get along. It wasn't that I ever invited her advances, but I also never discouraged them. Tony
laughed and slapped his knee before he pointed to a small table by the window, asking me to sit down.

"Well that is the funny thing," he said with a chuckle. "She played the diligent, grieving widow for about
a week, but then ran off with Mike's partner in the fishing business." I couldn't help but chuckle at the turn
of events.

"You are as bad as a gossipy old woman," I accused.

"So, how long are you in town?" Antonio asked with a wave of his hand, dismissing my jibe.

"I moved back last month. I'm going to hang low and do a few reviews on the local eateries and then I'm
looking to get out and make some investments in the industry. So keep your eye open for restaurants,
looking for a partner." Tony nodded his head.

"Now, whatever happened with that cute blond woman you were seeing?" I groaned inwardly at his
question. Tanya turned into a nightmare, she was demanding and controlling and couldn't cook for shit.
After that disastrous affair, I had sworn off women.

"We broke it off a few months before I moved back. She's still in New York and that's where I'd like her
to stay."

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nope. You are not adding me to your gossip list," I said with a chuckle. "Let's just say that we wanted
different things."

"Hmmm, a nice looking guy like yourself probably doesn't have any problems finding women, but…" he
paused and looked thoughtful out the window. "There is this girl that comes in everyday-" I held up my
hands and shook my head violently back and forth.

"No thank you, Tony," I said, stopping him before he tried to set me up with some unnamed woman. He
chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright, alright. But she's a looker," he said again, trying to persuade me to change my mind. I chuckled
and stood up.

"Thanks, Tony. But I'm good," I began as I pulled out my wallet. He waved my money away.

"It's on the house," he said as if I offended him by attempting to pay for my coffee. I nodded my thanks
and made my way out the front doors with a quick wave. I forgot how much I missed the simplicity of life
in Seattle. I stopped at the bakery and bought some baguettes for dinner later, then made my way back to
my car. I climbed in and closed the door. Setting my coffee down, I ran through the list of ingredients I
needed for dinner and I remembered the produce stand at the end of the market that had the best eggplant.
I debated just picking one up at the grocery store when I stopped there on the way home, but then decided
I wanted it fresh.

I flung my door open and moved to grab my coffee when I heard a loud crash that made my head snap
back to the door. I grabbed the moped just before it crashed into my legs, a small brunette was lying in a
heap on the other side. I glanced at my door and the handle was hanging precariously from the inside and
the door was bent back further than it was supposed to be, pushing it into the fender enough to make a
dent.

"What the hell?" I yelled, as I pushed the moped away and jumped out of the car. It landed with a loud
crash, next to the brunette lying in the street and I had a fleeting moment of concern on whether she was
okay, before I saw the extent of damage done to my car. I stepped over her and her moped and saw that
my door had been pushed back until it had caused a crease in the metal. A low growl began to form in my
chest. Why the hell wasn't she paying attention to where she was going?

I glanced down as she rolled over onto her back with a groan, her hair covering her face. She was wearing
short shorts that showed off her well formed legs, however, the road rash she was now sporting on her
knees was starting to bleed. She had on a little tank top that was filthy from her fall and when she flung
her arm over her face I could see that she had scratched up her hands as well. I glanced at my car again
and let out a long sigh, feeling guilty that I should have been more concerned for her welfare. I knelt
down next to her and held out my hand to help her up.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I tried to drag up some compassion. She laid there for a moment before she
pushed back her hair and I came face-to-face with striking brown eyes. Her look was one of surprise, but
then I watched as her cheeks tinted with the most beautiful shade of pink and she nodded her head. I stood
and pulled her up by her elbow as she hopped on one foot for a moment, trying to make sure all her limbs
were functioning.

She quickly pulled away and looked down at her mangled moped. It was an older model and was already
well worn. The front tire was tweaked completely and one of the mirrors was dangling precariously. She
wouldn't be riding it anytime soon.

"Is this your car?" she asked and I could here the slight disdain in her voice. I narrowed my eyes,
wondering where she was going with that question.

"Yes, and you totally fucked it up by not watching where you were going." Her head snapped to my face
and I watched as her eyes flared with anger.

"Me? You threw your door open without looking to see if anyone was coming," she accused. "You are
totally paying to get my scooter fixed." Her arms crossed over her chest and I saw her wince slightly.
"Plus I lost all of my morning shopping." She pointed at all of the produce lying haphazardly around her
moped. I looked at her in disbelief. Did she honestly think that this was my fault?

"What about my damn door?" I seethed. I took a step towards her but she held her ground as she glared up
at me. I turned around and grabbed the door. As I went to pull it closed, I heard a loud pop as the door
disengaged from the fender. Thankfully, when I closed it, it latched, but I could see where it was slightly

off its hinges. "This was completely your fault and you will be paying to fix my door," I said, turning back
towards her to see her lip turn up in a sneer.

"You are a pompous ass. I can't believe you are pushing this as being my fault," she stepped towards me
and her finger shot out and poked me hard, right in the center of my chest. "You're stepping on my honey
sticks, move your sorry ass out of the way." I lifted my foot and sure enough, there were little straws
filled with honey underneath. I placed my foot back down and ground a few into the concrete before
stepping aside. I heard a small gasp and she glared at me once more before shoving me out of her way.

"That was so immature. Did you take a class in being a dickwad or does it just come naturally?" I
chuckled darkly at her comment while I watched her bend over in front of me. Her shirt rode up her back
slightly as her already low cut shorts dipped even lower to reveal a peak at her sexy-as-hell pink
underwear. Even though she had a mouth on her and the attitude of a shrew, she definitely had a nice ass.

I felt my pants tighten as my body reacted to the beautiful woman in front of me. I cursed myself
internally and quickly adjusted myself while she was still picking up her groceries. I glanced at my door
and another wave of anger shot through me. Her hair cascaded down her back and I thought about my
hand wound tightly in it as my other hand gripped her hips. I shook off the thoughts that were running
through my head and reminding myself that she was a total bitch. Then she leaned over her motor bike
and I caught another glimpse of pink lace.

"Scommetto che il tuo sedre sarebbe carino con l'impronta della mia mano sopra," I mumbled to myself in
Italian. Her back stiffened and then her head quickly snapped back, catching me ogling her ass. I shifted
my eyes to hers and her eyebrow raised in question.

"What did you say?" I shook my head at her question. There was no way that I was going to tell her that
my handprint would look nice on her ass. When she realized I wasn't going to answer her, she switched
tactics. "Were you staring at my ass?"

"Pshh, please," I denied. She stood up quickly and turned on me and the fire I saw in her eyes set off a
little flame of my own. She slammed all of her produce into one of the paper bags and then took a step
towards me. I instinctively wanted to step away from her, but I held my ground. She was pissed, but she
was utterly beautiful in her rage.

Her hand came up and before I registered what she was doing, she slammed it into my chest and I
watched as red goo leaked out from between her fingers and all over my clean shirt. I looked into her face
and she had a smug smile as her brown eyes met mine.

"You smooshed all of my strawberries and now I can't make strawberry cheesecake," she accused. What
kind of whacked out bitch does something like that? I grabbed her wrist and pulled it quickly off my
chest, but not before I felt a stinging shock move through my hand with the contact. I had a sudden urge
to pull her against my chest and wipe that smug smile off of her face with my mouth.

"You're also paying for my shirt," I growled. She glared at me and snatched her hand away. Bending
down, she picked up her moped and waved her hand at it.

"You're paying for my scooter." I knew at that moment that we were not going to get anywhere. I could
be just as stubborn as she was. I pointed at the dents in my door and then turned on her with the rage I
was feeling.

"You will pay for that, too!" I said. We had definitely come to an impasse. I wasn't going to budge and I

knew from her stance that neither was she. She looked at my door and shook her head.

"Write down your contact information. This is not over," she said in an even tone that couldn't have been
more menacing if she had screamed it.

"If you wanted my phone number sweetheart, all you had to do was ask, not run your piece of shit moped
into my car." I watched as her face turned ten shades of red and her teeth ground together as she
processed the rude comment I had just made. In any other circumstance, I would have been more
agreeable, not such an ass, but I didn't know what it was about this woman, she pushed every button I had
and I didn't like it. She glared at me for a moment before turning on her heel and dragging her mutilated
motor bike up the street.

"Hey, where are you going?" I called after her. Her little hand flew behind her as she flipped me the bird
and continued up the street. I couldn't help a triumphant chuckle, then I contemplated going after her, but
decided that the insurance company could deal with it. Besides, the quicker she was away from me, the
better.

What a bitch.

Bella Swan

As soon as I was several steps away from him, I felt the hot tears fall from my eyes. I couldn't believe
someone that looked like an angel could be such a selfish, no good ass. I was so angry and the pain in my
knees was hurting so badly, that I needed to get out of there before I cried in front of him. I heard him call
after me and it took everything I had just to tell him with my hands what I thought of him. There was no
way I was going to turn around and have him witness my weakness.

I pushed my beat up scooter to the restaurant, thankful it was only a couple of blocks away. I was going to
have to have Jake look at it and see if he could fix it. It was my only mode of transportation until the
restaurant took off. I had poured every ounce of money I inherited from my parent's death into the
restaurant. I bought the moped in hopes that things would look better by the time the rainy months were
upon us. I sighed and swiped at my tears, suddenly feeling angry I had let that jackass get to me.

I reached the restaurant and pulled out the keys to unlock it and felt my lips pull up slightly. This was my
pride and joy. I had worked my way through culinary school and then was a sous chef for a year in Italy
before I came home to start my own restaurant. That prick didn't think I understood every word he
muttered. How dare he? My mind went back to the idiot that ruined my scooter and I groaned as I heaved
it into the restaurant and let it drop onto the tile floor.

I grabbed the first aid kit as I went to the bathroom. Once inside, I propped myself onto the counter and
went to work at patching myself up. All of my scratches were superficial and looked worse than they
actually were, but I was sure I would be sore for the next few days. I was lucky I didn't break anything. I
couldn't afford to close down the restaurant because we didn't have a chef. I knew that Alice could take
over if need be, but lately I had her out waiting tables since I had to lay off three of our wait staff. I sighed
at all of the complications that came from owning your own business.

The big dreams I had of being a restaurant owner were quickly dashed away when I ran into one headache
after the other. I always thought I would be able to just do what I loved…cook. However, the tediousness
of the everyday operations was slowly wearing on me. I had run out of money and was now hoping that
things would pick up, or I was going to be finding myself in the unemployment line. I quickly bandaged
my knees, then made my way back out to the bag of produce I had dumped on a table when I walked in.

Rummaging through it, I found a few things I could use to try the new dish that I wanted to have ready
when Alice and Jake came in. I valued both of their opinions; Alice's because she was currently making
her way through culinary school and Jake's because he was always the one with a hearty appetite. I felt
lucky to have them both as my best friends and even though Jake had hinted at wanting more, I hoped his
obsession with me was finally over now that he found a cute little red head named Rennie that he started
dating last month.

It was a huge relief when he started dating her because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I had never
been interested in him as anything more than a friend. I hadn't had any type of relationship since I left
Italy and I was perfectly happy with it that way. Molto Bella was my life right now and I was happy with
the new challenge and being able to do what I loved, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever done.

"Bells?" I heard Jake's slightly panicky voice as he came into the restaurant. I had just finished pulling out
the homemade noodles from the pot and called him into the kitchen.

"What the hell happened to your moped?" he asked. His eyes scanned my bloodied bandages and he was
quickly at my side. "What happened to you? Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled me away from the
counter and bent down to get a better look at my knees. I rolled my eyes and tugged him back up by his
hair.

"I'm fine. Come taste the new sauce I just made." He stood back up, but looked skeptically at my wrapped
up injuries.

"Are you sure? You look awful and your moped is a mess," he stated. I held out the spoon for him to taste
and he swallowed it down quickly. "Mmmmm, yep, that's really good."

"Good. Now, can you fix my scooter so I can ride it home?" I asked. He glared at me and shook his head.

"Not until you tell me what happened," he said stubbornly. I sighed and wiped my hands on my apron as I
came around the island.

"Some jackass opened his car door and I ran into it." Jake's eyes held concern and I just wanted to hug
him for caring, which was more than the jackass had done.

"Did you get his information?" Jake asked.

"No, I just wanted to get out of there after he said some stupid stuff to me."

"Like what?"

I groaned, not wanting to get into the details. "He was just an ass and more concerned about his car than
me." The words I spoke rang true. I was more upset over his blatant disregard for my welfare than my
scooter. Where did gentlemanly conduct go? I shook my head and dished up a plate of my new
homemade noodles and sauce before handing it to Jake.

"It doesn't matter, he's gone and I won't see him again," I remarked as I started to prep for the evening
dinner rush.


Translation: "

"Scommetto che il tuo sedere sarebbe carino con l'impronta della mia mano sopra"

"Bet that ass of yours would look pretty with my handprint on it,"

~*~

Chapter Two

Edward Masen

I ran my hand over the finished fender of my baby. It had taken six long weeks to get the part in and have
it replaced, along with painting it the proper shade of silver. It was flawless and thankfully, I only had to
pay my deductible, but it was still more than I thought I should have paid. I had made my way to the
market several times over the last few weeks in hope of running into The Shrew again. I was determined
to make her pay for the damages, at least that was what I kept telling myself. I didn't need the money, but
it was the principle of the matter. I found myself on many occasions thinking that I had seen her in the
city, only to pull up to the motor bike rider and find that it wasn't her. She was slowly haunting my drives
and had even invaded a few of my dreams.

I kept picturing her wild mahogany hair in a mass of curls that were wrapped around my hands as I
guided her head over my perpetually hard cock. I sighed and shook off the imagery again before I had to
go and pound one out. Even though she drove me completely insane with her stubborn and erratic
behavior, I still pictured her kneeling in front of me, or under me, or riding me. I let out a long sigh. I'd
never had a woman affect me like this. I didn't even know her name and I hated her for making me want
her.

I took the stairs up to the office and quickly slid past Lauren, the receptionist, before she accosted me
again with her flirty ways. I had learned my lesson with women that threw themselves at me. Tanya was
persistent in her pursuit and that turned out to be the most volatile relationship I had ever been in. I
quickly walked down the hall and passed Carlisle's office, only to have him call me back.

"Yes, sir?"

"Edward, please come in and have a seat," he said with a smile, motioning to the chair opposite his desk.
"I haven't had a chance to see how you've been settling in here at Gourmet. Are you enjoying the job?"

"I am, very much so."

"I just looked at your review for Volterra's. You were a bit critical," he commented with a raised eyebrow.
"I've eaten there several times and it has always been top notch. It was the best Italian restaurant in Seattle
in 2007."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have issues with a fine dining establishment that touts fresh ingredients while
their pasta was packaged and their tiramisu was bland. Plus, the wine wasn't the proper temperature and
the waitress was too flirty," I said, defending my position. "I know traditional Tuscan dishes and they did
not live up to my standards."

"Please don't feel like I'm questioning your expertise," Carlisle said. I nodded, accepting his apology. "I

have another assignment. There is a new Italian restaurant that Esme and I tried last week I'd like you to
check out."

"Sure, I can probably hit it this weekend," I replied as I pulled out my BlackBerry and asked what the
name was.

"Molto Bella, down by the outdoor market. The owner came out and spoke with us for a few minutes,
she's a delightful girl and Esme took right to her. I think she is going to be Seattle's newest
up-and-coming chef."

"If it's as good as you say it is, then she won't have any problems after I review," I said. I slipped my
phone back in my pocket and then excused myself to finish some paperwork. As soon as I was out of his
office, I had to keep from rolling my eyes. If anything, I was fair in my reviews, but a restaurant could
only earn good marks from me by going above and beyond the norm. I wasn't going to compromise my
good name by recommending a dive just because my boss' wife took to the new girl on the block.

Bella Swan

"I'll be there in two minutes," I said as I took off from the stop sign. Jake had fixed my moped enough that
I could ride it but it looked awful.

"Are you sure we need to make more fettuccine?" Alice whined. "I think we have enough." I rolled my
eyes as I rode down the hill towards the restaurant.

"One more batch. We have a large party coming in tonight and I don't want to run out." I could hear her
sigh on the other end but then she agreed that it would be better to have more than run out. I flipped my
phone closed and crossed the intersection just as a horn blared at me. I swerved my scooter at being
startled and my head whipped around to see a silver car that looked vaguely familiar. I continued on my
way to the restaurant and jumped off my moped when I was in front of the restaurant. I reached for my
keys and that's when I heard the voice that had been haunting my dreams, or should I say nightmares,
over the last few weeks. I slowly turned around as he was climbing out of the silver car that had honked at
me earlier. My blood immediately began to boil.

"So it was you that almost scared me right off my scooter again?" I accused. He slammed his door and
crossed the street towards me. I glanced at his door and noticed that the damage had been repaired, unlike
my bike. "I see you got your car repaired." He glanced at my motor bike and a smug smile lit up his
devilish features. I wanted to smack him.

"Yes, and I want to talk to you about that." I glared at him, then quickly turned around, shoving my key in
the door and ignoring him. His voice was filled with surprise when I opened the door and walked in,
pushing my moped in first.

"You work here?" he asked. I slammed the door quickly in his face and locked the dead bolt before
stomping my way into the kitchen. Alice was pushing the last of the dough through the pasta roller when I
flung open the door.

"Hey, what's up? You look like someone ran over your kitten."

"I don't have a kitten," I snarked as I stomped over to the walk-in refrigerator.

"Hardy-har-har," Alice quipped. "Seriously, what's got your panties in a twist?" She came over to the

open door and stood there with her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer. I growled before letting out
a string of profanities and launching into an explanation of who I had just talked to. Alice looked
somewhat surprised as she darted towards the kitchen door and peered out to get a look at the jackass.

"Damn, he's already gone," she said as she came back. "What did he want?"

"I don't know. I ran into the restaurant before he could say."

"Bella, why are you so afraid of him?" Alice asked with a raised eyebrow. "I've never seen you run away
from a fight before."

"He's a stubborn mule and thinks it was my fault that I hit his car. I'm sure he still wants me to pay for his
door. I just want him to go away and take his 'I'm too perfect for words' self and jump off the pier."

"I'm too perfect for words?" Alice looked at me with a knowing smile and I was seconds away from firing
her ass. "So is he hot?"

"Get out!" I growled. She rolled her eyes but then looked expectantly at me. "I'm serious, Alice. Don't
even go there."

"I'm totally going there. I've never seen you react this passionately to any man. I don't really care if it's
hate, lust or love…"

"Love? Yeah right. He's a jackass. Hate is more like it." I wasn't even going to go into how attractive he
actually was or she would never let it go. Unfortunately, she gave me that knowing look again and I just
stomped past her and pulled out the heavy pots to start the alfredo sauce for the evening.

"You never answered my question. Is he hot?" I slammed the pot onto the burner and turned around to
look at her.

"What do you want me to say? That he's tall, has the sexiest sex hair I have ever seen, however the bronze
locks make him have this boyish charm that reminds you of the boy next door." I threw up my arms in
defeat. "Or maybe you want to hear that his green eyes are as piercing as emeralds and that his mouth is
so damn appealing that I've thought about kissing him every single day since he hit me with his car."

"Technically you hit his car," she corrected. I ground my teeth to keep back the nasty retort that was
building behind my lips.

"Whatever. The reality is, as soon as he opens his mouth, you realize he's a stuck up, full of himself ass
that doesn't have a gentlemanly bone in his body."

"But you think he's hot?" Alice asked, even though her question was more of a statement. I rolled my eyes
and refused to give her an answer. She chuckled lightly, then dropped the subject.

We worked the rest of the afternoon prepping for dinner that evening. I had gotten a couple of fantastic
reviews from The Seattle Times and Travel and Leisure magazine that had brought in larger crowds. I had
heard through Esme that Gourmet magazine may be stopping in, but with all my inquiries to find out who
it might be, she was tight lipped. I made sure that all of my wait staff had their eyes peeled for anyone that
looked suspicious, however these guys were pros and we probably wouldn't know until after they had left.
I had every faith in the people that worked for me. They were all professional and knew how I expected
everyone to react to any given situation, and there was always something.

"Ugh, this man is driving me crazy," Alice huffed as she brought in the salad she had just made. She had
been working her ass off all evening waiting tables and I gave her an apologetic smile as she dumped the
salad into the trash and reached for a clean plate.

"What's the problem?" I asked. I dipped the clean spoon into the sauce and tasted it before grabbing
another one and offering it to her to taste. She took a taste and nodded her head, letting me know that she
approved.

"There's this totally gorgeous guy out there that is being difficult," she seethed. "He sent back the salad
because he said that it was wilted. I just chopped it not ten minutes ago and it was fine." I shook my head
with a chuckle and gave her a small smile.

"Some people just want something to complain about. Give him dessert on the house and maybe that'll
put him in a better mood. Is he with anyone?"

"No, he's alone."

"Well maybe you could slip him your phone number. Maybe he's acting like a five year old to get your
attention. You know, the equivalent to dipping your pigtails in ink," I said with a small laugh.

"He's not my type," she huffed again as she stormed out of the kitchen. I couldn't contain the laugh as I
added the finishing touches to the plate of eggplant parmesan. I stood back and admired my work just as
Alice came back into the kitchen.

"Grrrr, what a pompous-"

"Now, now," I said as I handed her the plate. "He's not the first complainer we've had, so just smile that
cute little angelic smile and don't spit in his food," I warned as she got a mischievous glint in her eye. We
laughed as she flounced out of the room. In about ten minutes she was back, holding the plate in her hand,
Jake right behind her.

"What happened?"

"Well," Alice spat with her hand on her hip as she not-so-gently tossed the plate of food on the counter. "I
set down his plate and before he even took a bite, he scrunched up his nose and called over Jake, telling
me that he was finished dealing with me."

"He's lucky I didn't break his damn fingers off when he snapped at me to come over," Jake said. "I asked
him if there was something wrong and he said that the dish wasn't traditionally prepared like true eggplant
parmesan in Italy. When I told him that you were a sous chef in Italy and were very much trained on
traditional Italian cooking, he laughed in my face." I rolled my eyes. He was probably a Sicilian that had
different ideas on the differences in Tuscan and traditional. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Ok, so what did he want?"

"He wants the lobster instead." I got to work preparing the lobster and let them deal with the annoyance.
The one thing I hated about being in this business was dealing with people that were unreasonable. No
matter how good a chef you were, you weren't going to be able to please everyone all the time.

Alice came back in several times and told me that he seemed to be happy with the lobster. I nodded and

dished up the tiramisu that he had ordered and handed it to her.

"He's almost out of here," I said with a smile as she shook her head in annoyance and walked out. I pulled
out a plate and dished up a small portion of my favorite dessert for myself. I made the tiramisu fresh
every day and indulged in it whenever we had a moment of peace and quiet. I savored the flavor and
nodded my head to myself at how good it was. There were only a few people in the area that made
tiramisu like I did and none of them served it in a restaurant. Both reviews that I received praised my
dessert as the best they had ever tasted, so I was surprised when Alice came back in with a frown on her
face.

"The jerk sitting at table four would like a word with you," she stated.

"Was something wrong with the dessert?" I asked. I looked down at my plate and took another bite to
make sure it was still good, before looking back up to catch her nodding her head and pointing at the
dining room.

That was it, what in the hell is wrong with this person? My tiramisu had always been the best and there
was no way this creep was going to say otherwise. I walked towards the kitchen door and Jake caught me
just as I entered the dining room.

"Bella, don't make a scene. We all know that yours is the best. You don't need to prove anything," he
pleaded. I stopped for a second and gathered my thoughts. Jake was freaking out because the last time
someone questioned my tiramisu, it turned out to be an idiot parent that ordered it for their kid. "The Big
T", as Jake liked to call it, was not a kids dessert. Most children didn't care for espresso and the bitterness
of the chocolate usually turned them off as well. I took a deep breath and peered over Jake's shoulder at
the man sitting at table four and my jaw almost hit the floor. Sitting in all of his glorious crankiness was
the man that had ruined my scooter and had driven me insane with self doubt and questioning my own
good sense at daydreaming about him whenever I had a free moment. I saw red.

I shoved Jake out of my way and with as much control as I possessed, stalked over to his table. I
composed myself just as he looked up and stared back at me. What caught me by surprise was that he
didn't look at all surprised to see me. The jackass had been taunting my staff and sending his food back to
get back at me. I bit back my sneer and plastered a smile on my face.

"Does there seem to be a problem?" I asked in a sickly sweet voice that surprised me. His eyes narrowed
at me and then he pointed at the tiramisu on his plate that was almost half gone.

"There is German and white chocolate in this," he stated.

"Of course there is. It says plainly on the menu that it is a unique recipe that I myself created. It doesn't
change the traditional flavor, but enhances it a bit from the bitterness that is usually associated with
tiramisu," I stated, defending my recipe.

"But it's not traditional," he argued. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Before I could think about the
ramifications of what I was doing, I stuck my finger in his dessert and scooped up a nice amount on my
finger, then stuck it quickly in my mouth. I closed my eyes for effect and let out a long moan of
satisfaction before looking back into his shocked face.

"Ma é molto gustoso," I stated in perfectly accented Italian. His mouth dropped a little further open and I
stuck my finger back in his tiramisu, then into his mouth before he registered what I was doing. His
mouth instantly closed over my finger and I pulled it out quickly, not really sure if he would bite me. I

grinned like a fool as I turned on my heel and walked away. As I reached the kitchen, Jake grabbed my
arm and pulled me close so he could whisper in my ear without causing a scene.

"What was that all about?" he asked with a chuckle. I turned and smiled up at him with an impish grin.

"That was me getting even," I said quickly. I glanced over my shoulder and he was staring at Jake and I
with a scowl on his face. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him and smiled back up at Jake.
"Can you make sure that our guest doesn't have to pay for his meal?"

Jake laughed a hearty belly laugh and then nodded his head. I glanced over at table four and he was
glaring at Jake with so much malice that I worried maybe I had pushed him too far. I knew if he
confronted Jake, then Jake wouldn't hesitate to take him out back and teach him some manners, and I
really didn't want to deal with the consequences of that kind of altercation.

I slipped back into the kitchen and Alice handed me the spoon to the sauce she had been stirring while I
had been taking care of our problem.

"Well?" she asked, wanting to know the details of how I dealt with him.

"It wasn't the food. That's the jackass I ran into with my scooter." Alice gasped at this new turn of events
and I nodded. "It seems that he doesn't like to be ignored, so he's trying to get my attention by insulting
my cooking."

"Ah," Alice said with a knowing look. "It seems it's not me he's annoying on the playground. Maybe you
need to go out there and give him your phone number."

We both laughed at the stupidity of the situation, but I had a strange feeling that it wasn't the last I was
going to see of him.

"Bella," Jakes voice rang with concern as he walked into my kitchen. "We have a problem." I looked up,
just as he handed me a small business card. I read it carefully three times before it registered in my mind.

Edward Masen

Gourmet Magazine

Damn.

~*~

Translation: "Ma é molto gustoso," "But it tastes amazing,"

~*~

Chapter Three

Edward Masen

I was still steaming mad when I stormed into my office building the next morning. How dare she taunt me
like that? She broke the cardinal rule. Never stick your finger in someone's food. Not only that, but she
stuck it in her mouth and then in mine. In any other setting, I would have thought that was fucking hot.

What in the hell was she thinking? She did it to piss me off. But, why?

Then she spoke Italian. Aside from giving me an instant hard on at the way she fluently put me in my
place, I also realized I had slipped up when I had been ogling her ass at the market. She heard what I said
and knew exactly the effect she had on me. I groaned at the mere thought of her wielding that kind of
power over me. But why didn't she call me on my rude comment, then? I ran my fingers through my hair
for the hundredth time, in agitation.

I stalked past Lauren as she tried to get my attention, but I ignored her. I walked into my office and
slammed my door a little harder than I intended, rattling my degree off the wall, causing it to crash to the
floor. I sighed and bent down to clean up the broken mess.

I felt every one of my nerves on edge as I recounted the evening before. The food was actually quite
good, I admitted begrudgingly to myself. However, there was no way I would admit that to her, not after
her little display of bitchiness. I originally sent back the food out of spite; I recognized that afterwards and
was actually going to compliment her on the interesting spin she had created with the tiramisu, but when
she was standing in front of me again, I felt that familiar stirring of desire and it pissed me off once more.

When I pointed out that she had added different chocolate, she jumped to the defensive, which only
fueled my anger. She was infuriating, and completely and totally dominating my thoughts.

As soon as I got home, I had grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and tried to forget she existed.
However, the more I drank, the more I replayed her stunt when she stuck her finger in my mouth, which
ended with me taking a cold shower.

I stood up with the broken frame and tossed it on my desk. I needed to write the review and keep my own
personal feelings out of it. I knew I was being unreasonable when I started sending food back but I was
hoping she would come out of the kitchen so we could have a chat about what she owed me. When she
did finally emerge and her manager grabbed her arm, I had an irrational thought that he needed to get his
hands off her. I raked my hand through my hair. This has got to stop.

"Knock, knock," Carlisle said as he poked his head in the door. "You got a minute?" I nodded my head
and waved him in. He closed the door and glanced at the broken frame on my desk. His eyebrow quirked
up in question and I just shook my head, letting him know that I didn't want to talk about it. Thankfully,
he let it drop.

"So, did you get a chance to check out Molto Bella?" he asked with a smile. I groaned and nodded my
head slowly. "How did you like it?" he asked. I shrugged my shoulders as I plopped down in my chair.

"It was alright," I conceded. His smile disappeared and a frown etched his brow.

"Esme and I went there and it was fabulous. Did you have her tiramisu?" he asked. I nodded my head,
trying to keep my face neutral. "And?" I gave him a questioning look. Why was he so damn worried about
my trip to Molto Bella.

"It was good," I agreed. His lips started to turn up until I continued. "Until, she stuck her finger in it."

"What? Who?" he asked, confusion etching his features.

"The owner. She walked up to my table and stuck her finger in my dessert, then tasted it. Right in front of
me," I said with disdain. Carlisle immediately started laughing. I wasn't in any mood for his humor at my

expense.

"Are you serious? What did you do to piss her off?" he said between chuckles. I rolled my eyes and
ignored the question. "Edward, what did you do? Bella is a great girl. Esme and she have become friends.
Esme even took her to lunch last week."

Where the hell did the impartial boundaries go? This was seriously bordering favoritism.

"I sent back the Eggplant Parmesan," I said. Carlisle's demeanor instantly changed and he gave me a
disappointed look. If any other person would have given me that look, I would have blown it off, but I
admired Carlisle. He had worked his way up in a demanding industry and was now the Editor in Chief of
one of the most read food magazines in the country. I looked quickly away and fiddled with the broken
glass on my desk.

"Edward," he began. The disappointment was still evident in his voice. I let out a long sigh and looked
back up at him. "Not everyone can make that dish like you can. Cut her some slack. I had it when I was
there and it was perfect."

"Do you not trust my judgment? Did you not hire me to review the way I see fit? We are supposed to be
impartial," I accused, my temper starting to flair. Now this woman was invading my work. Carlisleheld up
his hands in surrender.

"Of course, I trust your judgment. You had one of the most successful restaurants in New York," he said.
"As for impartial…there's nothing wrong with me recommending a restaurant for review."

"No there isn't, but, you need to respect my opinion," I said, trying to keep my voice down.

"And I do, but, why don't you give it another try? Maybe she was just having a bad day. Give her one
more chance-"

"But I left my calling card so she'll know who I am, and that defeats the purpose of anonymity," I pointed
out, cutting him off.

"Well yes, yes it does. Just give it another try, please. Esme and Bella have become fast friends and I
don't want to ruin that by an awful review. If you go in there with an open mind, I'm sure that you'll see
what we saw. If you decide you still don't like it, then I will stand by whatever you write." I let out a long
breath and contemplated his proposal.

I knew that Carlisle was between a rock and a hard place. I also knew he was always professional and
wouldn't have pushed this if he didn't believe every word he said about Bella's cooking. I could see the
gray line and I hated teetering on it. I let out a long sigh and raked my hands through my hair as I
contemplated what going back would mean.

I did not want to see her again. It was better just to forget about her, the way her finger slid into her mouth
and her plump lips wrapped around it. Gah! What the hell is wrong with me? I shook my head, trying to
focus on what Carlisle was proposing. I hated being forced into going back and no matter which way you
looked at it, I was being forced, even if it was under innocent intent. I couldn't see any good coming out
of a revisit. I was still pissed about my car, but deep down I knew that it was partly my fault, so I was
willing to let that go as long as she didn't push any more of my buttons.

I glanced back at Carlisle and knew that I would give him what he wanted. Sighing, I gave a quick nod.

"I'll go back and give it another chance."

"Fantastic. I need your article by next week."

I procrastinated going back and spent most of the evening arguing with myself in my apartment before
deciding just to get it over with. I knew that it was going to be awkward showing up and trying to pretend
the other night hadn't happened, but I manned up and walked in a half an hour before they were set to
close. The little woman that waited on me the first time was standing at the hostess booth chatting quietly
with another waitress. When she saw me, her eyes became as round as saucers, then she whispered
something to her coworker before darting towards the kitchen, probably to tell Bella that I had arrived.

"How many, sir?" the waitress asked me with a flirty smile. I internally groaned at the blatant display.

"Just one," I remarked, trying to keep my disdain out of my voice. Her smile grew a little more and I had
to hold back from rolling my eyes. I had my share of flirty waitresses and it always bothered me. I would
have never allowed that kind of behavior in one of my restaurants. Professionalism was always the
number one priority that I looked for in my staff. I thought about Bella and it shouldn't have surprised me
that she would have employed someone like that. She obviously didn't appreciate professionalism or she
would have never stuck her finger in my dessert. I pushed back the image of her lips wrapping around her
finger again, and followed the waitress back to a secluded spot of the dining room.

I situated myself so that I was facing the kitchen so as not to be surprised if The Shrew decided to come
out and talk with me. The waitress handed me a menu and asked if I wanted something to drink. I thought
about a double shot of Jack, but figured that probably wouldn't be the best idea and instead, just ordered a
glass of water until I figured out what I was going to eat.

Every time the kitchen door swung open, my eyes traveled to see if it was Bella. After several minutes
she came out with the manager I had chewed out right on her heels. She paused at the bar as my eyes
followed her every movement. She really was a stunning beauty. Her hair was pulled up into a tight twist
at the base of her neck. However, several tendrils escaped and framed her face perfectly. Her cheeks were
slightly flushed from the heat in the kitchen and the look on her face was one of a determined woman,
which was by far the sexiest look I had seen on her.

Her manager came up behind her, grasped both of her arms in his massive hands and turned her around. I
watched him closely as he bent down and whispered intimately in her ear. I felt my blood start to boil and
I immediately recognized the jealous emotions coursing through my body. I hadn't felt like this since I
caught Tanya in a compromising position with her boss. My teeth ground together as she pulled away
from him, looked up into his eyes and nodded her head. What were they talking about? Was there
something between these two? The idea made my stomach twist into a painful knot. What is wrong with
you, Masen? Yes, she's attractive, but she's also got a mouth on her that completely turned you off.
Remember that. She grabbed a bottle of wine and nudged her manager aside while she slipped past him
and back out onto the floor.

"Are you ready to order?" I glanced up to find my waitress hovering a little too close, but I gave her a
smile and nodded anyway. My eyes drifted back to Bella and she had stopped in the middle of the dining
room, her eyes fixed completely on my waitress with a slight scowl on her face. I wondered briefly what
her problem was when I heard my waitress ask me again what I wanted. I pulled my eyes off Bella and
gave her my order. As I rattled off what I wanted, she moved slightly closer to me and placed her hand on
my arm.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" she asked. I glanced at her hand on my arm and then out of the
corner of my eye I caught Bella moving quickly towards us.

"Thank you Heidi, I'll take it from here," Bella said quickly. Heidi released my arm and I caught a small
pout as she turned and walked back towards the kitchen. "Mr. Masen, I want to apologize for the way I
acted last night. I'm about ready to send my staff home, so maybe you would like to hold off on dinner
and I can give you a tour of the kitchen?" Her smile was infectious and I found myself agreeing before I
had even thought it out completely.

"Great," she said happily. Her smile was genuine as she offered me the bottle of chardonnay and then told
me that she would be back after she closed everything down. I poured a large glass of wine and gulped it
down before pouring another. The restaurant slowly emptied out; half an hour later and an almost empty
bottle of wine, I was ready to see what made this girl tick.

Bella Swan

"Asshole's back and I refuse to wait on him," Alice said as she stormed into my kitchen.

"Who?" I asked in shocked disbelief. Alice had taken to calling Mr. Masen asshole but there was no way
he had come back. I had been wallowing in my own regret all day. His review was the one that could very
well make or break the restaurant. I spent the whole previous evening in tears, drowning my sorrows in
Guinness and tequila shots with Alice.

"The Gourmet asshole just walked in the door," she clarified. "Heidi is taking care of him." I shot around
the island and made my way to the kitchen door. I peered out carefully until I found his bronze mop
seated in the corner of the restaurant, Heidi hovering shamelessly over him.

"What are you doing?" A gruff voice startled me away from the door. I turned quickly to face Jake and
gave him a scolding reprimand.

"You scared the hell out of me," I accused.

"What are you looking at?" he asked as he pushed open the kitchen door. I grabbed the handle and pulled
it closed before he gave away my spying.

"The reviewer from Gourmet came back."

"Did he really?" Jake looked unimpressed.

"I need to talk to him," I said wringing my hands. "I messed things up so bad. I don't know what to do."

"Take him out a bottle of wine and then apologize," Jake stated. I knew he was right, but it was easier said
than done. I needed to make this better, but that meant swallowing some pride and admitting that I acted
like a two-year-old.

I took a deep breath and then stepped out into the dining room. I focused on the bar, trying to ignore his
presence until I had to make my move, but I could feel his stare boring into the back of my head. I walked
around and pulled out a bottle of our best chardonnay, then jumped slightly when I felt Jake's hands wrap
around my arms. He turned me quickly, his warm breath blew over my neck as he put my mind at ease,
telling me that there was nothing to be nervous about.

"Don't let him get to you. You are the best damn chef in Seattle," he whispered fiercely. I smiled up at
him. He had always encouraged me to live out my dream and at this moment, I needed to hear his
reassurances more than anything else.

"Thanks, Jake," I whispered, nodding my head. He looked into my eyes until he made sure that I accepted
his statement, then nodded his head and released me. I glanced over at the table Mr. Masen was sitting at
and then quickly walked towards him. I stopped in the middle of the dining room as Heidi practically
shoved her chest in his face. I felt the anger bubbling up from the pit of my stomach that she would be so
blatant in her advances. I felt his eyes on me again and I tried to stem the animosity I was harboring
towards my employee. He turned back to Heidi and spoke softly to her while she was getting her flirt on.

I practically stomped over to his table when Heidi was taking her flirting one step farther than I was
comfortable watching.

"Thank you Heidi. I'll take it from here," I said in a clipped tone. Heidi controlled her disappointment
enough to nod before walking back to the kitchen. I took a deep breath and tried to control my nerves and
the little bit of annoyance that was bugging me before I spoke.

"Mr. Masen, I want to apologize for the way I acted last night. I'm about ready to send my staff home, so
maybe you would like to hold off on dinner and I can give you a tour of the kitchen?" I plastered on a
smile that was not being felt and then waited patiently to figure out if I was going to waste a bottle of my
favorite wine from Sonoma Valley or if it was a moot point and this man would be out of my life for
good. He surprised me when he quickly agreed to wait.

"Great," I said with a sigh of relief. I offered him the bottle of chardonnay and then told him I would be
back after I closed everything down. I quickly excused myself and fled back to my sanctuary. When Alice
saw me enter the kitchen, she pounced on me.

"What happened? What did he say? Did he publish the review?" She rattled off each question before I had
time to answer her.

"I don't know. He ordered dinner and either he's giving us a second chance or he's here to make my life a
living hell some more," I groaned.

Heidi, I needed to speak to Heidi. I saw her standing in the corner of the kitchen talking quietly with one
of the waiters and I wondered briefly why I had hired her in the first place.

"Heidi?" I asked as I broke up her flirting. She turned around and looked at me with a little less
apprehension than I thought that she should have since I had caught her acting inappropriately in front of
a customer, then again in my kitchen. "What exactly did he say?"

"Who?"

"The man at table ten."

"Oh," she said with a knowing smirk. I wanted to slap it off her face. "He ordered the Eggplant Parmesan,
pasta and a Caesar," she said, counting them off on her fingers. Why would he order the same thing? That
doesn't make sense. I looked over at Alice who had the same confused look on her face that I was sure
mine held.

"He didn't order the pasta last time," she pointed out. The Eggplant Parmesan wasn't a specialty of mine,

so I contrived a way to talk him into trying something else. I nervously paced back and forth while my
kitchen staff slowly started shutting down the kitchen. I let them know that there were several things I
would be using and that I would take care of them. Alice kept fluttering by, pointing out little things I
hadn't thought about as we tried to determine exactly why he was here. By the time the last of my staff
was leaving, my nerves were on edge.

"Bella," Alice said as she grabbed her things out of her locker. "He's still sitting in the dining room and
everyone has left. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" she asked. I shook my head, having already
thought my plan through and not wanting to disrupt what I hoped would change his mind.

"No, you go on home. I'll be okay."

"So what's the plan?"

"I'm going to show him the kitchen and maybe some of the remodeling photos, then I'm going to make
him my famous Mahi Mahi and pasta with roasted tomatoes."

"Do you want my opinion?" Not really, I thought, but I knew she was going to give it to me whether I
wanted it or not. I waved my hand at her to continue. "I think you need to sleep with him." I had to pick
my jaw up off the floor after she dropped that bombshell. I shook my head and gave her the 'what the
hell?' look as she quickly jumped into her reasoning. "If he's here for the review, then it wouldn't hurt."

I tried to shake off what she was saying. I had no idea where she came up with this stuff. I couldn't even
stand being in the same room with him, let alone sleeping with him.

"I can't believe you just suggested that," I said with disbelief in my tone. Her small little hands went to her
hips while her eyes narrowed on me.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"Of course I have not thought about it. I would never stoop that low for a good review." I said
vehemently. Alice rolled her eyes, then glared at me.

"I'm not talking about a review. I'm saying that you have thought about what it would feel like to ride that
pony," Alice giggled as she said the last word. "However, you might as well get a good review out of it."

"Shut up," I said stopping her before she went too far.

"What? I'm serious. He looks like he'd be a good lay if you can get past all that arrogance."

"Get out of my kitchen," I seethed. She let out a small chuckle. She always knew that my bark was worse
than my bite, but I wasn't sure that I wouldn't throw her out on her ear.

"Lighten up Bella. A good screw is probably what he needs to be a happy writer and definitely what an
overworked chef that hasn't gotten laid in over a year needs," she quipped. I didn't think before I picked
up the small silver tray and launched it at her. She dodged it easily, laughing the whole while because my
aim was never any good.

"You missed," she laughed as she stuck out her tongue and then disappeared through the kitchen door. I
heard her talking to Mr. Masen, informing him that I'd be out in a minute. I grabbed my backpack and
slipped into my office to change into a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt. I pulled my hair out of the tight bun

and shook it out before throwing it up in a loose ponytail, then headed out to the dining room. He hadn't
moved from where he had been seated. When I approached, he slowly looked up and graced me with a
crooked smile that made my stomach start to churn in nervousness.

"Mr. Masen," I greeted as he slowly stood up.

"Edward," he corrected.

"Well, I guess I should formally introduce myself. I'm Isabella Swan, but I prefer Bella. I'm the owner and
chef here at Molto Bella," I said as I held out my hand. He looked at my hand for a moment before taking
it quickly in a firm shake and then releasing it just as fast. "I feel like I need to apologize again for my
rash behavior the other night." One of his perfect eyebrows quirked up.

"And which incident are you referring to?" I gave him a nervous smile, but then ignored his inquiry, not
wanting to get into the moped verses car incident with him.

"I'd like to show you the kitchen, then maybe we can talk while I make you something to eat," I said as I
motioned for him to follow me to the kitchen. As I walked back, I could feel his stare and I wondered
briefly if he was staring at my ass again. We walked into my domain and I instantly felt relaxed. This was
where I thrived, where I could be myself, and where I belonged. His eyes raked over my kitchen and he
got a thoughtful look before nodding his head in appreciation.

"Nice kitchen. Did you design it?" he asked. I nodded, pointed to the counter and told him to have a seat.

"We're informal around here. Make yourself comfortable and let me grab the pictures," I said. I turned
quickly away and fumbled for the door to my office. Why did this man make me so nervous? It must be
because he held my future in the palm of his hand.

Edward Masen

I was feeling pretty good by the time she came out to get me. After three glasses of wine, I was thinking
that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to have come back. I followed her back into the kitchen and I was
mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips in a pair of sexy-as-hell skinny jeans. Her tight shirt clung to
all the right places and when she reached up to flip the lights off in the dining room, I caught a sliver of
skin with ink on her lower back. I held back a groan at the thought of seeing her tattoo. How had I missed
that when I was checking out her ass in the market?

When we entered the kitchen, I was surprised at the modern conveniences that it held. The kitchen was
immaculate and everything was stainless steel. The way she had it set up, made it functional and logical.
It was definitely different from the front of the restaurant, which had an old world feel to it, almost as if
you just stepped off a gondola in the heart of Venice. The kitchen was exactly as I would have designed
my own, if given the option. Everything was at your fingertips without being crowded. I wasn't surprised
when she said that she had designed it. Smart girl.

I turned towards the counter and looked at the stool resting against it, but hopped up onto the counter
instead. She came back a few minutes later with a handful of pictures and handed them to me. There was
a calm silence as she rummaged through her pots and pans, producing several items and then walking
back into the refrigerator.

I glanced through the pictures and saw the before and after of the kitchen. The difference was shocking.
The restaurant was literally a warehouse in its setup and had no interior walls or flooring. It gave me a

new appreciation for what she had done when I came across a picture of her and her manager on their
hands and knees laying tile.

"You fixed this place up?" I asked in stunned disbelief. She walked out of the refrigerator with an arm full
of items and dumped them on the counter next to me. She peered over my hands, her stomach brushing up
against my knees as she looked at the photos.

"Yep, that's Jake, my manager and best friend. He knows a lot about construction, so together we did all
the work ourselves. I just had to call in an electrician because voltage scares the hell out of him," she said
with a chuckle. I took note of the best friend comment before I marveled at each picture and how they had
accomplished such a magnificent feat.

"That's pretty impressive," I muttered. Bella shrugged her shoulders and started chopping tomatoes.

"What are you making? I ordered the Eggplant Parmesan."

"I know, but I'm making you the Mahi Mahi and my famous pasta and roasted tomatoes." I felt a little
perturbed that she would take it upon herself to change my order.

"But I ordered the Eggplant." She stopped chopping and looked up at me. I could tell she was battling to
keep her comments in check as she bit her lower lip and glared at me. My eyes darted between hers and
the lip she had planted firmly between her teeth and I had a sudden urge to pull it gently away from the
brutality of her teeth.

"I know what you ordered, and I also know that you ordered it the last time you were here and didn't like
it, so I figured I'd save you the torture of trying it again." She immediately went back to chopping the
tomatoes as an uneasy silence grew between us. Had I really been that much of an ass? She had a grace
about her as she deftly cut up her ingredients and threw them in a sauté pan. When the ingredients were
tender, she placed the fish in a pan and added the items she had been sautéing, then popped it in the oven.

She tossed more tomatoes in a small pan and added several spices before flipping the ingredients around
with a touch of olive oil. Her back was to me as she worked and I let my eyes wander down her body. She
was petite, maybe 5'4" give or take an inch, but what had me completely enraptured was her neck. Her
hair was swept up off her slender neck, swaying back and forth in the ponytail as she tossed the items in
the pan. I always thought the neck was sexy and it was definitely one of my hot buttons. I loved a woman
with her hair pulled back, showing off the slender and smooth lines of one of the most intimate spots on
the body to touch and caress. I found myself wanting to brush her hair aside and nip at the soft flesh
where her neck met her shoulder.

"Mr. Masen?" her voice brought me out of my little daydream and I quickly shook off the arousal I was
feeling. It must be the wine.

"I'm sorry, what was it you were saying?" I asked, trying to cover up my now throbbing erection by
crossing my legs.

"I was asking if you liked oysters?" she asked over her shoulder. "Some people don't care for them.
Honestly, it took me awhile to like them. There's just something about those slimy little guys sliding
down your throat that was really hard for me to get over." I held in the groan that her words were
conjuring up in my mind.

"Yes, I like them." I surprised myself when my voice came out even.

"Good, I prepped a few about an hour ago." She disappeared back into the walk-in refrigerator and I
quickly adjusted myself, trying to find a comfortable position for my now aching cock. I took a few deep
breaths and hopped off the counter, making my way to the sink. I splashed water on my face, then brought
the cool water around the back of my neck hoping it would ebb my overheated body. This is the last time
I will be drinking this much in front of this woman. I stopped what I was doing as that thought ran through
my head. Once my review is over, I won't be seeing her again, so it doesn't matter, I told myself. Why
was I imagining that I would be seeing her again? I was here to give this one more chance and then get
out of here. The nagging voice in my head asked what exactly was I giving one more chance, too. I
cupped another cool handful of water and ran it over my face.

"Are you feeling okay?" her soothing voice asked from directly behind me and then her hand touched my
back and I about jumped out of my skin from the contact. She handed me a clean towel and I took it with
a thanks, trying to not feel the burning sensation that her hand was causing through my shirt. I quickly
stepped away as I dried my face and tried to put some distance between us. Her hand dropped limply to
her side as she continued to look questioningly at me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I may have had one too many glasses of chardonnay," I admitted. She chuckled
lightly and pointed towards the stool as she took the one on the other side of the counter. I slid onto the
stool and sitting on the surface between us was a small tray of ice with several oysters on the half shell.

"I wasn't sure what you liked with yours so there's lemon, horseradish, cocktail sauce or my tart onion
vinaigrette, which is to die for," she said. I glanced up to catch her close her eyes for a moment as if she
were in heaven, her pink tongue slid out of her mouth and licked her bottom lip before she opened her
eyes and caught me staring at her. I blinked several times and then quickly looked back down at the
appetizer before she read in my eyes the strong attraction I was feeling for her.

"Lemon is fine." I grabbed two of the half shells and placed them on the plate she provided. Staring down
at the little shellfish, I was struck with how erotic it looked. Before my slightly intoxicated brain could
register what my mouth was doing the words were already out.

"Do you know the history of why people think that oysters are an aphrodisiac?" I asked as I picked it up
and slipped the fork underneath to loosen it from its shell. I glanced up to see she had a slight blush
creeping up her cheeks as she looked down at her plate. I had a small feeling of accomplishment at
making her blush and wondered if I could do it again. I held the small shell in my hand and waited
patiently for her to answer.

It was amazing to watch the determination cross her features and within moments she had pushed down
whatever discomfort she felt at my questions and met my stare.

"The word 'aphrodisiac' comes from Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. As the myth goes, she was
born when Ouranos was castrated by his son, Cronus. Cronus threw his severed genitals into the sea, and
then she came forth from the sea on an oyster shell. Because she was born of the sea, many types of
seafood have the reputation of being an aphrodisiac." I was instantly impressed that she not only knew the
legend, but that she didn't balk at the current topic. Now, let's see if I can get that beautiful blush to
return. That same nagging voice in the back of my mind warned me that this was a path that I didn't want
to travel, but I ignored it.

"There isn't any scientific proof that it has minerals or chemicals that increase heightened sexual desire." I
squeezed the lemon onto the oyster and held it up for her to get a better look. I made the mistake of
looking at her and she was biting that damn lip again.

"The oyster's erotic reputation may only be because its soft, moist texture and appearance reminds one of
the female genitalia." And with that, I brought the shell up to my lips and tipped it until it slid into my
mouth. I chewed it for a second as I watched her eyes grow wider, then I let it slide down my throat. Bella
cleared her throat before picking up her oyster and spooning a small amount of vinaigrette onto it.

"The law of similarity," she said as she picked it up and brought it to her lips. "I just wonder if it has the
same affect…or maybe it has more of an affect," she said thoughtfully, "when a female enjoys one." She
popped it in her mouth and swallowed it right down. Bella wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb
and I had to resist the urge to grab it and lick it clean. This was getting to be dangerous territory.
Everything about her screamed sensuality and I was struggling to maintain an air of professionalism.

We both avoided one another's gaze as we swallowed down a few more. She stood up quickly and made
her way to the stove. She pulled off the lid to her sauce and the smells wafted towards me, as my stomach
growled in anticipation. I was pleasantly surprised to see her pull out homemade angel hair pasta and
throw it into a pot of boiling water. I stood up and walked over to get a better look at what she was
making.

"Just a few more minutes and it'll be done." She picked up a spoon and dipped it into the sauce, bringing
it to her lips. She blew on it before wrapping her mouth around the spoon. I licked my own lips and
watched carefully as she pulled it out and let out a long moan of satisfaction. My already hard dick
stiffened to an unbearable hardness. I was starting to get agitated that my body was reacting like a
teenager with a copy of Playboy.

Bella opened her eyes and a surprised look came over her at my close proximity. I watched as her cheeks
flushed and her eyes lowered before she spun around to check on the fish. I looked over her shoulder as
she flipped the pieces over and spooned more sauce onto them.

"They're going to get dry if you leave them in there much longer," I commented. Her hand instantly stilled
and her back stiffened before she pulled back enough to close the oven door. When she turned around to
face me, her eyes were blazing with hostility and I took a step back, slightly frightened of what she might
do. I knew better than to criticize a chef in their own kitchen, but my filter was obviously gone with the
help of the alcohol running through my system. I'd seen chefs flip out at a lesser infractions than I had
made. She glared at me for a moment and I had an image of a kitten with its claws out flitter across my
mind. I braced myself for the tongue lashing that was sure to come.

She completely surprised me when she grabbed a large spoon off the counter and went back to stirring her
sauce, muttering under her breath. I took a deep breath, thinking I had dodged that bullet when she turned
on me so quickly I didn't have time to react.

The spoon was still in her hands and her anger still showed in her eyes while her face was flushed with
agitation. I took another step back, but she followed with one of her own. She pointed her spoon at me
and then launched into a string of profanities in Italian that would make a sailor blush. Her spoon punched
out every syllable as she inched closer to me. She was utterly beautiful in her tirade. My eyes quickly
focused on the spoon in her hand, knowing that if she was so inclined, it could be used as a weapon.
Every time she swung the spoon as she spoke, small bits of red sauce splattered against my shirt. I
grabbed her arm just as the spoon was making its descent onto my now ruined shirt. She immediately
stopped yelling at me and our eyes locked. Like some kind of magnetic force, we leaned toward each
other. A part of my brain was screaming to stop before things went any further, but the hormonal teenager
was urging me forward.

I felt the spoon slap against my chest in the instant her lips met mine. With a hunger that I didn't realize I
had been holding back, I grasped onto the back of her neck and pulled her more fully into me. A small
moan slipped out from between her lips and into my mouth. My free hand traveled up the back of her
neck until it reached her ponytail and I tugged the rubber band out of her hair, letting it cascade around
my hands.

I let my fingers thread in her hair as I pushed her awaiting mouth open with my lips and attacked her
tongue with vigor. She responded with a hungry growl and opened herself up to me. The passion she
exuded was almost unbearable as she let the spoon clatter to the floor and she thrust her hands in my hair.
I pushed her backwards until her back was pressed against the counter and then wedged one of my legs
between hers. I could feel the warmth radiating off of her as my thigh pushed against her sex. Another
small moan emitted from her as she tugged my hair harder.

"Bella, I didn't think you'd still be-," I heard a voice say just before Bella shoved my chest hard, pushing
me away from her. We stood against the counters, directly across from each other, completely breathless
by our encounter. Bella's chest was heaving slightly as she stood before me with wide eyes. I brought my
hand up to my lip and wiped the corner as we maintained eye contact. There was a feminine clearing of a
throat behind me and Bella's eyes darted over my shoulder.

"A-Alice. What are you doing back?" Bella asked as she stepped around me and walked towards Alice. I
continued to stare at the spot that she was previously standing in, not wanting to face that we had been
caught. I heard Bella walk into her office, her friend following after her. I pushed myself off the counter
and looked down at my shirt. There was a huge tomato stain on the shoulder with small splatters across
the rest of it. I turned for the door, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible; unfortunately, I
wasn't quick enough.

"Um…Mr. Masen? Did you enjoy Bella's Mahi Mahi?" I stopped in my escape and slowly turned to face
the little waitress that had waited on me the first time I had come in. Her eyes traveled across the tomato
stains on my shirt until her eyes met mine again. Her face lit up in a wide grin.

"Uh," I stammered. Bella came out of her office and gave me a look between pleading and anger, before
pushing past Alice and stopping in front of me.

"No, Mr. Masen was just leaving," she said as she gave me a gentle shove towards the door. I looked
down at her and her jaw was set with determination. What the hell? One minute she's practically jumping
on my junk and the next she's the ice queen again. I looked up at Alice and gave her a shrug.

"Yeah, I was just leaving," I said, loud enough for Alice to hear me. "There's nothing here worth writing
about." Bella narrowed her eyes and for a moment I thought that she was going to slap me. Instead, she
turned on her heel, stalking back into her office and leaving me to find my own way out.

"Jackass," I heard Alice mutter as I pushed open the kitchen door and made my way to the front door.
When I finally slid into the seat of my car, I felt the weight of what happened. She was infuriating, but my
body still wanted her. I also found out, from our brief encounter, that she was smart, sassy and sexy as
hell. I leaned back in my seat and let my head flop onto the headrest, trying to forget that this night had
even happened.

I started my car and put it in drive when my phone started ringing. I looked at the clock on the dash and
realized it was eleven in the evening. Who would be calling me this late? I flipped open my phone to see
Carlisle's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Edward?"

"Yeah, what's up Carlisle?"

"I just received a phone call from the printers," he said with an exasperated sigh. "They're moving our
print date up so I need your review in two days."

"Can they do that?"

"Doesn't matter, they did. Did you go to Molto Bella tonight?"

"Yes," I said cautiously.

"And?" I could hear the impatience in his voice.

"And, I didn't really eat anything,"

"What? Why not?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, you'll have to go tomorrow because I need your review on my desk the following morning."

"I'll just review what I already experienced."

"Edward," Carlisle's voice was stern. "Go back tomorrow." He left it so that it felt like I didn't have a
choice. I bit the inside of my cheek as I contemplated how I could get out of going back. I knew that with
Bella's connections with Esme, I was sure that our little exchange would be mentioned, then when I wrote
the scathing review I had originally planned, it would backfire on me. Damn, I had to go back.

"Okay, I'll try again tomorrow," I relented, yet again. I snapped my phone shut and gripped the steering
wheel tighter.

How in the hell was I going to do this again?

~*~

Chapter Four

Bella Swan

I rolled over and stared at my alarm clock. Four fifteen in the morning was too early to get up and go into
work. Wasn't it? I punched my pillow and buried my face into it, trying to drown out the memories of his
lips on mine.

I had never met a man that made my blood boil like he did. Everything about his over confident, cocky
attitude usually made me run the other way in other men, but with him, I was throwing myself in his

arms. I let out a long sigh and flipped onto my back, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling.

I started making the list in my head of the reasons I should just forget that Edward ever walked into my
life. He's cocky. He's to self absorbed. He's not a gentleman. He cares more about personal possessions
than someone's feelings or well being. He's got a God complex. He's beautiful. That must be a flaw, right?
Along with, how his smile makes me melt, even if it is sideways and usually was followed by a rude
remark. See. I told myself. He's a completely gorgeous jackass with no redeeming qualities.

However, I knew that wasn't true. On my way home after our disastrous evening, Esme called me and I
almost felt like it was a conversation to prove to me how wonderful Edward actually was. She obviously
wanted to smooth things over when I told her that I was sure the review was going to be awful due to Mr.
Jackass. She just sighed, then launched into how he had a love of music and that he played the piano and
the guitar. Like any of it mattered to the dilemma I was facing. However, I found myself wanting to know
more about him, so as I made my way home, she filled me in on the qualities of Edward Masen.

According to Esme, Edward spent his days off in the pediatric wing of the hospital playing music for the
sick kids and he even gave guitar lessons to a few that probably wouldn't make it through the year. She
told me he was loyal, compassionate, hard working and great with kids. If I didn't know better, I'd have
thought she was talking about a fricken saint. Why did he only show me the shithead side? Even though
he was a total jackass, I felt that pull towards him. It was so strong that it scared me. I had never felt like
that towards anyone and with my luck, it had to be a man that couldn't stand the sight of me. I felt a small
tear pool in the corner of my eye and quickly wiped it away, angry that I would let him affect me like this.

He didn't matter. He was gone now. It would better if I just forgot he existed and figured out a way to
save my restaurant after his review came out. My mind wandered in and out of consciousness as I worked
out finding a financial backer that could help me until the restaurant overcame the negativity that I was
sure was coming. By the time I drifted back to sleep, I had a plan and discerned that I didn't need Mr.
Jackass' review. I would be just fine.

I felt like singing as I rode my scooter from the venture capitalist's office. They assured me they had
several investors looking into the hospitality industry and that they would set up an appointment for next
month, since it wasn't imperative we rush anything immediately. I had a more optimistic feeling that
everything was going to be okay, until I rounded the last corner and saw him leaning up against his car, in
front of my restaurant.

What the hell is Edward doing here? I'm not open on Mondays. Monday was my prep day, where I got
everything ready for the week, placed my orders and caught up on the books. I did not want to see him. I
pulled my scooter up to the door and watched out of the corner of my eye as he pushed off of his car and
walked towards me. I fumbled with my keys, dropping them once before slamming them into the lock and
turning. Quickly, I pushed open the door and he walked up behind me and held it open so I could
maneuver my scooter in.

"Bella, I need you to cook for me," he said quietly. Was he serious? There was no way I wanted this man
ten feet from me. Once I had my motor bike in the restaurant, I turned back to find him leaning on the
door jamb. I couldn't believe he thought I would just drop what I was doing to cater to his
over-demanding self. My eyes narrowed as I took a step towards him.

Edward's eyes widened slightly before he took a cautionary step back. I grabbed the door and started to
close it when his hand reached out and stopped it mid-way.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but I need this," he said in an exasperated tone that only fueled my anger more. I

slapped his hand away from the door and her reluctantly let go. I gave the door a good, hard yank and just
before it closed, his hand shot out to try to stop it. He was too late. I watched through the glass as the tips
of his fingers were closed in it with a sickening thud, before he yanked them back out. My mouth opened
in shock as he grabbed his now squashed fingers and danced around in a circle for a moment. I felt a pang
of remorse and was about to open the door and make sure that he was okay when I heard the string of
profanities flying out of his mouth in Italian. None of them were specifically said towards me, but it
reminded me of that first meeting when he didn't realize I understood Italian. So, with a determined
mindset, I clicked the lock in place, turned on my heel and fled to the kitchen.

I quickly pulled out the ingredients for my lunch and tried to push down the guilt that was bubbling under
the surface. I ground the feta into the meat and grabbed some sun dried tomatoes as I kneaded it all
together. I thought I heard a slight pounding on the door, but I ignored it. I was not going to give in to his
tantrum and I especially did not want to be alone with him again. I threw my lunch on the grill and
quickly washed my hands before heating up the oil and walking into my office for a moment. When I
came out, I heard the faint knocking again and pushed the kitchen door open just far enough to see
Edward step away from the window.

He shook out his hand and I could see the small wince as he paced back and forth, occasionally rubbing
his fingers. Maybe I should get him some ice. He stopped pacing and I caught his eye before quickly
ducking back into the kitchen, slightly embarrassed at being caught. I stood there for a minute and heard
him knock on the door again. This time his voice floated to me.

"Bella, please," he begged. I could hear the desperation in his voice but my resolve was firm. I shook my
head, ridding all thoughts of letting him in and went back to fixing my lunch. When I was finished, I sat
down on the stool and stared at my food, remembering when he was sitting across from me and we were
discussing the aphrodisiac merits of oysters. I felt my lower half tingle and cursed my over-active
hormones.

I heard the front door rattle and I looked at the clock on the wall. He had been standing out there for thirty
minutes. I sighed and contemplated my original decision. With a deep breath, I stood up and made my
way to the kitchen door, slowly I opened it and stepped out of the kitchen. As soon as Edward saw me, he
rushed to the window. Cupping his hands around his face and pressing them to the window as he peered
in. His eyes were pleading with me to come to the door and I almost turned around and went back into the
kitchen. If I let him in, I knew that it wasn't going to end well, but I also couldn't let him stand outside my
restaurant and make a scene any longer.

I made my way to the door and caught that panty combusting grin, when he realized that I was going to
let him in. He stood back and waited for me to open the door. When I unlocked it, I noticed that he wasn't
in his normal attire of khakis and a button down shirt that I had seen him in during our other encounters. I
was too flustered when I had arrived to pay attention to what he was wearing. This time, he was wearing a
pair of jeans and a black band shirt, AC/DC. That completely threw me off. I pictured him as a stuffed
shirt so many times that seeing him in more casual attire was unnerving. His jeans were snug and hung
low on his hips. I couldn't help but take a peek at the way he completely filled them out as I slowly pulled
open the door. I mentally smacked myself at where my mind was wandering.

"What do you want?" I asked, mustering up my most annoyed tone. I stood in the doorway, not letting
him in.

"Look," he said, raking his hands through his hair. "Will you just make me something that I can review? I
promise I'll be unbiased in my opinion." I bit my bottom lip as I considered letting him in. The stubborn
side of me didn't want to bend to his request, but the logical side was telling me that it couldn't hurt. I

glared at him one more time before stepping aside and letting him in.

He rubbed his hand and I noticed that one of his fingers was slightly swollen. I groaned as I reached for
his hand and pulled it up to eye level so I could get a better look at it. Only one of his fingers was purple,
the other one had a minor nick out of it, but otherwise looked fine.

"Let's get some ice for this," I said. I raised my eyes to his and there was a funny expression on his face.
His features didn't hold that sharp edge they normally did when he was angry. Instead, he looked
almost…nice. I dropped his hand quickly and scurried back to the kitchen, unnerved by the way my heart
sped up at just touching him, while he followed slowly behind.

I grabbed a Ziploc bag and went into the freezer to get some ice. The cool air hit my warm cheeks and I
flushed even more at the fact that I was blushing over being in his presence. I grabbed some ice and came
back into the kitchen to find him seated on my stool. He was staring intently at my lunch and looked up
with a big smile when I approached.

"A cheeseburger? Really?" he asked with a chuckle. I handed him the ice and circled the counter until I
was sitting opposite him. I shrugged lightly before answering.

"Yeah, what of it? I'm a hamburger girl at heart," I said. His deep rumbling laugh came out even louder
and I was smiling, despite myself.

"So what do you want to cook? I'll take whatever you make," he said. I gazed into his emerald green eyes
as they danced with triumph. A part of me wanted to smack him and kiss him at the same time. I shook
my head and pulled over the knife that I had used to cut the tomatoes.

"No, I'm not cooking for you," I said with conviction. The smile that was on his face disappeared in a
heartbeat.

"What do you mean you're not cooking for me?"

"You can share my lunch," I said casually. I cut the burger in half, then placed his on a small plate with
some hand cut steak fries. He looked at it as if I had handed him dog poop on a platter. I rolled my eyes
and pushed it towards him.

"It's a gourmet burger, Mr. Food Snob. It has feta and sun dried tomatoes. Just try it. Unless you still feel
like there isn't anything worth writing about here," I said in an irritated tone. It was immature, but I
couldn't help but throw his words from the night before back at him. His eyes snapped to mine and I
instantly regretted my catty remark.

Standing quickly, I needed to escape. "Do you want a beer?" I asked, as I turned to head towards the
refrigerator. I felt his warm hand wrap around my wrist and I stopped when every part of my body tingled
at his touch.

"Bella." His voice was a whisper. I closed my eyes tightly before turning around to face him. "I'm sorry. I
was being rude and I should have never made that remark." I pulled my hand out of his grasp and brushed
off his apology. It was much easier to think of him as the enemy.

"Whatever," I said turning away. I was halfway to the walk-in refrigerator when I heard the screech of his
stool on the tiles. When I reached for the handle, his hand wrapped around mine and he spun me around
until I slammed against his chest. I looked up and his eyes were pleading with remorse. I felt a small thrill

at being pressed up against him, before he started to speak.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be an ass, but you were just so…guh, beautiful. I couldn't help myself. I just
had to ki-," I silenced his apology when my lips met his. Warning bells were going off inside my head to
stop this before it began, but I didn't want to stop. I saw a glimpse of the man Esme had spoken of and I
felt an overwhelming urge to put my mark on him in some small way.

My lips were soft at first and I could feel the shock rolling off him in waves, as I pressed my lips more
firmly to his. I could almost hear the light bulb go off in his head, when his actions changed gears and his
arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer. His mouth moved sensually against mine before it
parted and his tongue slid between my lips. I felt a surge of desire race through me as my hands traveled
up his chest until they wrapped around his neck.

I heard a low growl, deep in his chest, before he pulled away. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find him
staring back at me with as much wonder written on his face as I was feeling. He turned his head slightly
and cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. His hands traveled up my arms until they grasped mine, which
were tangled in the curls at the base of his neck, and then gently pulled them away.

"Um…" he began. He started to look at me, but then quickly looked away with an embarrassed shrug.
There was an awkward silence as we stood inches apart from each other, my hands still wrapped in his.
"Beer?" he finally asked, reminding me of what we were doing before I kissed him. I snapped out of my
slight fog and turned back towards the frig and retrieved two frosted bottles. My mind raced at what I had
just done, but I couldn't find it in myself to regret it. When I came back out, he was already sitting back
on the stool, chewing on a bite of burger. He glanced up at me as I twisted the top off the beer and set it
down in front of him.

"Well?" I looked in his eyes and then down to the burger, indicating I wanted to know what he thought.
He chewed thoughtfully for a moment and I was slightly mesmerized by the bobbing of his Adam's apple
as he swallowed.

"It's really good," he said with a smug smile. "But I think some cilantro mayonnaise would make it
better." I barked out a laugh, causing him to smile wider at my outburst. He really did have some cojones
coming into my kitchen, not once, but twice, and critiquing my cooking. However, this time it didn't seem
to bother me as much; I actually wanted to hear what he thought.

Edward Masen

I stared at the latest copy of Gourmet and opened it quickly to my review of Molto Bella. It had been
almost three weeks since I had eaten in her kitchen and we talked about her adventures in Italy. If we had
been there at the same time we would have crossed paths, but I was in New York while she was learning
the art of Italian cooking.

By the time I had finished the best burger I had ever tasted, I found that I was stalling just to spend more
time with her. I asked her as many questions as I could think of, all under the guise of writing the article.
She happily filled in all the technical details about where she went to school and her time abroad, but I
found that my questions started to get a little more personal as we sat and talked.

I found out that she was a sous chef at a small restaurant that I frequented when I was in Venice, years
before she had moved there. She absolutely despised eggplant, which was probably why her eggplant
parmesan needed work. I laughed at her quirky answer that even though she hated the flavor, she always
made it look pretty.

Through our discussion, I put several of her vague answers together to come to the conclusion that she
had lost both of her parents. When I asked her about the business side of her restaurant, she avoided all of
my questions, leaving me to think that she was probably just barely hanging on financially.

I scanned the review one more time before I slapped it shut and grabbed my phone off my desk. Shoving
it in my pocket, I made my way towards the elevator. I hadn't seen Bella since she fed me and I wanted to
be the first to show her the review.

"Edward?"

I let out a long sigh. I didn't want to talk to Carlisle right then, but I knew that I didn't have any choice.

"Yes, Carlisle?" I asked, as I poked my head into his office.

"I want to apologize for being so pushy with your review of Molto Bella and make sure that it wasn't
influenced by my prodding."

"Don't worry about it, Carlisle. I was already biased when I went in there and had a huge chip on my
shoulder. If you hadn't insisted on me going back, then I would have missed out on the best burger I've
ever had." I ducked back into the hallway and quickly made my way past Lauren before she noticed me. I
could still hear Carlisle chuckling as the elevator doors closed.

The closer I got to Molto Bella, the harder my hands gripped the steering wheel. How would she take me
just showing up? Would she like my review? Would there still be that natural attraction I felt for her? I
threw the car in park and ran my hands through my hair, giving myself a small pep talk before opening
the door.

I glanced at my watch and realized that it was still several hours before she would be open, so I was
taking a chance on if she would even be there. I knocked on the glass door and saw the little dark haired
girl, Alice, poke her head up from behind the bar. When she saw me, a wide grin spread across her face, a
far contrast to what it was when I came back after my first visit. She held up one finger, letting me know
that she would open the door in a minute.

I stood patiently on the other side until I saw Bella come out of the kitchen. She started to walk towards
her, but then Alice waved her hand in my direction and Bella turned towards the door. I watched as her
face turned from one of confusion to shock and then a large smile graced her perfectly kissable lips. I
shook off the images in my mind of her lips dancing with mine and smiled back.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked as she opened the door. I pulled the magazine out of my jacket
and handed it to her.

"Page forty-three."

She tentatively took the magazine out of my hand and nervously thumbed through it until she found the
page I had marked. Her eyes scanned the headline before looking up at me and flipping the magazine
closed. She handed it back to me, shaking her head.

"I can't read it," she said. I pushed the magazine back towards her with a small chuckle.

"Its fine, I promise."

She bit her lip and nodded before opening it back up to the page and slowly reading the article. Each
agonizing second that she quietly read was killing me. I had never wished to be a mind reader as badly as
I did in that moment. She let out a small bark of laughter and looked up at me.

"Feta burgers? Are you serious?" I nodded. Bella let out a peel of giggles and then went back to reading
the review. I was worried she would take offense that I wrote part of the review on an item that wasn't on
the menu, but from her reaction I thought she was perfectly okay with it.

Bella stopped laughing abruptly and her cheeks flushed before glancing up at me. She must have gotten to
the oyster part. She bit her bottom lip as she continued to read and I felt that familiar urge to kiss her
again. She slowly closed the magazine when she was finished reading and we stood silently for a moment
before she looked up at me. I waited patiently while she gathered her thoughts and spoke.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I guess I'm going to have to put feta burgers on the menu." Her jibe broke
the ice and we both laughed quietly for a moment.

"Edward?" she asked. I looked back at her, urging her to continue. "Did you…ya know, did you give me a
good review because we…" She couldn't seem to finish her sentence, but I knew exactly where her mind
had taken her. I shook my head vehemently.

"No. I would never give a good review that wasn't completely deserving of it," I reassured. She searched
my face for a moment before nodding her head.

"Well, thank you," she said again. I acknowledged her thanks with a small nod before she looked back
into the restaurant and then back at me. "Well, I should probably get back to work."

"Oh, yeah…sure." I stuttered. "I don't want to keep you."

She smiled sweetly at me again before turning and grasping the door handle, opening it slowly. She
stepped inside and turned around to close the door, but I couldn't let her go yet. Before the door closed, I
stuck my hand out to stop it, being mindful of the last time I had done something so stupid.

"Bella, wait."

Her eyes met mine through the glass and I gave the door a small push until there was no barrier between
us.

"What are you doing after the restaurant closes?" I asked, before I lost my nerve. She looked slightly
surprised and then shook her head.

"Nothing. I usually just go home, why?"

"Well…" I racked my brain for what I wanted to say to her. "Would you like to go to coffee? I know this
great little all night diner downtown." She looked thoughtful for a moment before that heart stopping
smile lit up her face. She nodded slowly before speaking.

"I'd love to. I should be out of here around eleven. Is that too late?" she asked. Too late? I think I would
have stayed up all night if it meant getting to talk with her some more.

"No, it's not too late. I'll see you then," I said. She smiled wider before closing the door with a click of the

lock. I watched her through the window until she disappeared into the kitchen and then turned with a
lighter step as I made my way back to my car. The image of her radiant smile was etched into my mind as
I drove back to my apartment.

Molto Bella, indeed.

~*~

Epilogue

One year later

Bella Swan

I pulled up behind Edward's silver Volvo and hopped out of my car with the groceries I had just
purchased at the outdoor market. Closing the door, I clicked the key lock and smiled widely as it beeped,
telling me that it was locked. I was so excited the day I realized that all of my hard work had finally paid
off enough that I could go out and buy a new car. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was new, and it was
completely paid for.

I fumbled with the keys to the restaurant as I juggled the bags of produce and bakery items. Letting
myself in, I quickly made my way back to the kitchen where I knew Edward was already hard at work.
When I came in, he looked up from the pasta that he was cutting by hand and gave me a heart warming
smile.

"Hello, Love," he greeted. I scurried over to him and he leaned down until I could reach his mouth. I gave
him a soft kiss while he kept his hands buried in the pasta dough that he was working.

"Good morning," I said quickly, dumping the groceries on the counter and then heading into my office.

"What took you so long?"

"Antonio wouldn't let me leave. He wanted to show me pictures of his new grandbaby," I hollered out the
office door. The first time Edward and I walked into Antonio's little coffee shop, he laughed pretty hard
and told Edward that I was the girl that he wanted to introduce him to. I had known Antonio since I was
in culinary school. He always told me that I would find a nice guy one day and I just shrugged him off.
Little did I know that he would know the very man I fell in love with.

It wasn't an easy road. The first six months of dating were taken pretty slow. Neither one of us wanted to
rush into things, only to have our hearts broken. It took us that whole time before we slept together for the
first time and after, I wondered what the hell took us so long; the man was sex on legs. After that, I don't
think we spent one evening apart that wasn't due to his work schedule.

He still worked for Gourmet Magazine, however, he didn't review any restaurants in Seattle because he
said it was too hard to be impartial. A couple times a month, he would travel to different cities in the
western states to fulfill his obligation. He also started his own local cooking show. It was only a matter of
time before one of the major networks picked it up and ran with it, then his anonymity would all but be
gone. I smiled to myself as I came out of my office, pulling my hair up in a ponytail. Then he'd be home
more.

"What are you smiling about?"

"I was just wondering…when you're famous, will you still come in and help me on my prep days to make
pasta?" I asked. Edward rolled his eyes and a crooked smile graced his lips.

"Someone has to come in and do it right," he teased. I shook my head with a chuckle and started putting
away the groceries. "You know…Volterra is looking for an investor." My head snapped up from below
the counter and I glared at him.

"You wouldn't dare," I growled. His eyebrow rose, letting me know that he would most certainly go there.
He had been pushing to invest in Molto Bella for the last several months, but I was hesitant at best. It
wasn't that I didn't think his business sense wasn't superb, it was more that I worried what would happen
with him becoming my partner, and what it would do to our relationship. He had been instrumental in
helping me, business wise. He showed me how to cut corners without giving up quality, so much that I
had to give him full credit for keeping me from going into bankruptcy in those beginning months.
However, I feared that if his money was involved, then things would change between us.

He had resorted to dropping hints that his lawyer was looking for investment opportunities for him, but
until that moment, I had blown it off as talk. He even teased that he would invest in the competition and
give me a run for my money. I had heard rumors that Volterra was looking for financial backing and so,
when he mentioned it, it hit a little too close to home that he might actually do it.

"Bella, I told you that I wanted to quit working for Gourmet. What did you expect? I'd much rather invest
in Molto Bella, but you're too stubborn to give in."

I clenched my teeth together, biting back the retort that was about ready to slip from my lips. Instead, I
turned away from him and started making the tomato sauce for the following day. We worked in silence
as I contemplated his words. I was angry and a bit hurt that he would even consider putting money into a
company that had been my fiercest competition. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was
being stubborn. I couldn't expect him to pass up an opportunity when I wasn't willing to provide what he
wanted. Or was I?

Lately, I had been reconsidering my decision, and it all stemmed from subtle hints that he was constantly
dropping. A few months ago, Edward started hinting at marriage. He was more prone to asking where I
wanted to get married and how long before I'd like to start having kids and even though he never out right
asked, I knew it was on his mind, just like it was on mine. So, if that was the direction our relationship
was heading, why shouldn't I let him invest in Molto Bella?

I pulled the sauce off the burner and walked it over to the island he was working on. He was finishing up
with the last batch of tortellini and I couldn't help but smile at the smudge of flour he had on his nose,
along with small specks in his hair. I dipped the spoon into the sauce and held it up for him to taste. His
eyes locked with mine as he opened his mouth. I stood rooted there for a moment, staring at the lust I
caught in his eye before he quickly looked down at the spoon I was stupidly holding. Shaking myself out
of the sudden urge to jump him, I brought the spoon up to his mouth where his tongue licked his lips
before I slid it into his mouth. I bit my lip, waiting for his approval, which never came. He scrunched up
his nose and shook his head.

"What did you do? That's awful." It took a moment for my brain to register what he said, but when it did,
I saw red. What does he mean awful? I make this every single day. I could make it in my sleep.

I dipped another spoon in and tasted it myself and I couldn't figure out what he was talking about. It tasted
the same as it always did. I tossed the spoons in the sink and narrowed my eyes at him.

"What do you mean, awful? It tastes perfectly fine."

"Whatever you say," he said while shrugging his shoulders. I stormed over to him, pot still in hand and
the other hand planted firmly on my hip.

"No, not whatever I say. What is wrong with it, oh master of the kitchen?" I asked sarcastically. His eyes
blazed with unrestrained lust and I realized that he was pushing my buttons to get a rise out of me. It was
definitely working. The last time things got out of hand in this kitchen, I had to buy a new mixer because
it got pushed off the counter in our haste to devour one another.

"If you like bland, then nothing," he retorted. I brushed past him, making sure that my thigh brushed
against his groin and felt a smug smile when I realized he was already hard. I slammed the pot onto the
burners causing it to slosh out over the sides.

"So, what? More basil?" I asked as I grabbed the spice container and shook some more basil in the pot.
"No? Maybe some more garlic?" I stirred the pot as I threw in more garlic. I felt his presence before he
touched me. Leaning over my shoulder, he looked into the pot, his warm breath spreading across my
neck.

"I don't think it's salvageable," he whispered in my ear. The goose bumps formed on my arms and I felt
that familiar stir of desire at his close proximity and then his words registered in my mind. I stopped
stirring, a growl building in my chest, before I spun around and jabbed the spoon into his stomach,
causing him to yelp and jump back slightly.

"You pompous, know-it-all. You need to remember that you are in my kitchen." His eyebrow raised in
defiance and my temper flared even further at his smug attitude. I turned back to the pot and picked it up.
Bringing it over to the island he had been working at, I dipped the spoon I had been using to stir back in.
Turning back towards him, I realized I probably had a mischievous smirk on my face from what I had
planned. He caught on quickly and shook his head, bringing his hands up in front of him.

"Bella, no. Don't you-" he began but was cut off when sauce hit him on the side of the head. His hand
went quickly to the gooey liquid sliding down his cheek as he wiped it away. "I can't believe you just did
that."

I smiled widely as I turned and quickly dipped the spoon back into the sauce, arming myself with another
shot. His stance had changed by the time that I turned around and I knew I was in trouble. With a small
giggle, I ran around the island that now separated us, with my spoon of sauce at the ready. He started to
go left, around the island, and I followed, keeping it between us the whole time. After several attempts to
get to me, he stopped and leaned over it, glaring at me.

"I will get you, my dear. And when I do, it'll be payback," he said in a menacing tone. I laughed and
stepped closer to the island, yet still out of his grasp.

"Dream on pasta boy," I teased, just before I flung the remaining contents of my spoon at him. He stood
completely shocked as the sauce landed on his shoulder and dripped down his chest. I let out a loud,
girlish giggle at his stunned silence, which was just enough to wake him up from my assault. Before I had
a chance to comprehend what he was doing, he launched himself over the island, knocking off the pot of
sauce. It hit the floor and sauce went flying, thoroughly getting me and him in the process. I let out a

squeak and turned to flee to my office, when his arms encircled my waist and he spun me around. He
pushed me back until my back pressed against the metal door of the walk-in refrigerator.

I let out a nervous laugh and wondered how bad it could possibly be, when my eyes met his. His eyes
were half closed and I read the excitement of his arousal in the way he was looking at me. One hand
gripped my hip while the other was planted firmly on the door above my shoulder, conveniently blocking
me from escape.

"Do you remember the first time I kissed you?" I asked in a breathy whisper, when I realized the
significance of the position we were in. His features held confusion for a moment while he tried to figure
out what I was getting at. When he remembered what I was referring to, his mouth curled up into a
crooked smile.

"Hmmm, yes. I remember perfectly. However, I wouldn't have done this," he said in a seductive whisper.
His hand slid from my waist until it brushed the underside of my breast, causing me to gasp at the assault
on my senses. "Or this," he circled my breast with his hand, brushing across the nipple until it pebbled
under his touch. Then his hand trailed down between my breasts until it cupped my now overheated sex.
His fingers curled around my jean clad arousal, while he moved in closer, until his body was fully pressed
against mine. He buried his face in my neck as he nipped at the sensitive skin.

"However, I'm sure I would have gotten the same response, if I had." I felt his grin against my skin. Cocky
bastard. However, my annoyance was erased when his hand slid back and forth against me. His touch
was driving me further and I needed his lips on mine. I gripped his hair and pulled his head up roughly,
until I slammed my lips into his. There was nothing gentle about the way our mouths consumed one
another's. He bit my lip, hard enough to let me know that this was going to border on rough, and I felt my
panties become more drenched at the prospect. In one swift motion, he had my pants unbuttoned and
pushed to my knees. I toed off my shoes and quickly stomped on my jeans until they were a crumpled
heap on the floor. His hands moved around to my ass and he growled into my mouth when his hands met
the lace cheekies he was so fond of. He ran his hands over the material for a moment before sliding them
underneath and gripping my ass. In one quick motion, he pushed them off my hips and they fell to the
floor with my jeans.

I released his hair and grasped onto the top of his Levi's. He pulled away from me enough for me to get a
good grip on the waistband of his jeans and in one swift yank, I had all the buttons undone. I slid my hand
back up to the waist band of his boxers and shoved them down over to his hips. He gripped my ass and
pulled me off the ground while my legs automatically wrapped around him, his huge hard-on pressing
against my entrance.

"Voglio essere dentro di te, adesso," he whispered in Italian, causing me to shiver at his words.

"I want you inside me," I acknowledged his request. I wiggled my hips until the head of his cock slipped
inside, urging him to fill me. With a loud groan, he thrust forward, pressing me up against the cold door.

"Cosi caldo," he muttered against my neck. "Cosi bello, cosi perfetto." He slowly pulled out of me and
then slammed back in, causing me to moan at the sudden movement. Grasping my hips, he held me
against the door while he repeatedly pounded into me. I felt the familiar stirrings of my orgasm quickly
approaching and that was when he whispered the words that always sent me over the edge. No matter
how kinky or hard he gave it to me, he always let me know how much he loved me at my most vulnerable
moment.

"Ti amo."

My body pulsed around his as he sent me over the edge. I didn't contain the loud moan that let him know
he had accomplished his goal. He was a sucker for the sounds that I made, and it was only moments
before he sunk his teeth into my shoulder and released inside of me with a groan of his own. He held me,
pressed against the refrigerator, for a moment before he kissed my shoulder and mumbled an apology at
the mark that I was sure he left on my flesh. His lips sought mine, as he lowered me back to the floor.
When we parted, we surveyed the destruction of the kitchen.

At least this time we didn't break anything.


Translations:

"Voglio essere dentro di te, adesso,"

"I want to be inside of you, now,"

"Cosi caldo,"

"So hot,"

"Cosi bello, cosi perfetto,"

"So beautiful. So perfect."

"ti amo,"

"I love you."

~*~

Translation: Molto Bella - Very Beautiful

~*~

The End