CHAPTER ONE

Run. Keep running, that's all you can do. Pretend you didn't see it; didn't hear it; don't feel anything. Close off your mind. Forget the person you used to be, because that person cannot exist anymore. That person has to be dead; forgotten; gone. Because that person was you and you aren't allowed to be you anymore. You have no choice but to do exactly as you are told to do; to follow the orders to the letter. Because that way you stay safe; otherwise you might be next...

XXX

6 months earlier

I picked up the coffee cups and placed them on the tray, pausing with it rested on my hip to talk to the couple, a big smile on my face. This job was the best; my mom always said I was a 'people person'; people seemed to draw me like a magnet and I loved to listen to them tell their stories. I guess that's why it was so easy for me to make friends with people; because I listened. When I was at school, I ended up as a prefect and the younger kids trusted me; they would come to me if they had a problem. And usually I had the skills to sort things out for them, whether it was a quiet word in a bully's ear or helping some kid out with their homework. I liked to help. That was what led me into taking the psychology course; I wanted to keep on helping people. Mom and Dad were thrilled when I was accepted at a prestigious college and even more so that it wasn't too far from home. Even though I did move into student accommodation at the first opportunity, which was fine because my job paid for it.

Working at the French bistro was a breeze for me. Laurent, the owner, was an eccentric, enthusiastic Frenchman, who had a real soft spot for me. I had been working there the last three years and was now in my final year at university. I lived in accommodation with my best friend Rosalie, which was ironic as we had gone to the same high school and never crossed paths until we met in the fresher's week at university. We had ended up laughing as we realised we had gone to high school together yet never spoken and then gone into the university bar and got to know each other over several large and cheap cocktails. We had been inseparable ever since.

"Well, miss, thank you very much. It has been a pleasure eating here tonight and not just because of the exquisite food. You must pass our compliments on to the chef. And for you." The man held out a twenty dollar bill and I smiled.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly..."

"Please, we insist," said his wife. "You have made tonight an absolute pleasure; met our every need. I've never had service like it in a restaurant. So thank you, dear."

As the couple went out, I walked through to the kitchen area and put the money in the tips jar which would be shared out between all of the staff later that night. Laurent smiled as he saw me putting the money inside.

"Ah, ma petite cherie, you were wonderful tonight," said Laurent, patting my shoulder, as he went through to the dining area, to mix with his regular clients. That was something else I loved about this place; there were so many regulars who had become like friends to me. Everything was near enough perfect...

"Hey, Swan, get your ass back out there!"

I guess I forgot to mention the jerk in the kitchens. He is the most amazing chef, especially considering he is only twenty-six, but he's also the angriest, grumpiest person I ever met. It's a shame that he also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. He has eyes like green emeralds that make me melt every time I look at him and the most unusual bronze hair, which I occasionally catch a glimpse of when he takes off his chef's hat. It's always a bit of a mess, but I figure that's because of the whole hat thing. I roll my eyes and then turn to him, with a winning smile.

"Quit griping, Cullen. I just picked up a twenty dollar tip to put in the jar. You won't be complaining when it's split later," I said, brightly. He muttered something indeterminable, most likely a string of expletives and I laughed. He didn't bother me all that much. "Oh and the couple said the food was exquisite! Compliments to the chef!" I called this over my shoulder as I left the kitchen and was gratified to see a slight smile curve his lips; he might be a jerk, but he liked a compliment as much as the next guy. Especially about his food.

I headed back out onto the shop floor and Mike grinned at me.

"Chef giving you a hard time?" he asked, as he passed with a tray of drinks. I just smiled back at him and shrugged. Mike was from my campus and was doing a sociology degree. He was a friendly, chatty guy and I admitted I fancied him a little bit, but then I thought most girls did. I watched him cross the floor, admiring the way his black trousers skimmed his butt and then shook my head, shaking myself out of my daze. Mike might be pretty hot to look at, but I knew he had had more girls than he had served hot dinners. Jessica, one of the other waitresses followed my gaze and giggled.

"Mmm, I know. He's hot in that little waiter outfit, isn't he?" she said, with a grin. I smiled and nodded.

"He's kinda cute," I admitted. "But doesn't he know it?"

"Oh yes," she said and then she gave me a sly look out of the corner of her eye. "But he's pretty good in bed."

"Really?" I asked, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape; Jessica had never struck me as that type of girl. She grinned.

"We've been on a few dates," she said, excitedly. "And last week we ended up..." She broke off, as one of her customers waved her over. I watched her go and sighed, with a sad smile. It was great seeing her so happy, but I realised that was another one of the guys I had looked at who was already taken.

Yes, that was the sad truth of it; Miss Friends-with-Everyone was single and on the lookout for Mr Right to sweep her off her feet. Up to now there hadn't even been a Mr Wrong. Every man I met saw me as a friend or worse the sister he had never had. No one saw me as a potential girlfriend and that fact was the only thing that was a blemish in my otherwise very contented life. Rosalie had recently hooked up with a gorgeous guy that I had fancied myself when I first met him, Emmett Cullen; yes the brother of Master Chef in the kitchen, but his much nicer, buff brother.

God, I know I'm beginning to sound a little desperate here, like I fancy every guy I meet, but that isn't true. I just see the best in people and sometimes that means that my imagination runs away with me and I see the potential for a boyfriend in every guy I meet, before I start to see them as just being a friend. And then my mind wandered to the one man who wasn't attached and who didn't strike me as the friendly sort. Inadvertently I glanced across the kitchen to see Edward with his customary scowl, organising the food on a plate so that it would look like a work of art as well as tasting like one.

"Hey, Bella! Mr Carson just came in. He's asking for you!" called Mike, as he headed through to the kitchens with a stack of empty plates. I smiled and headed to Mr Carson's table, withdrawing my notebook and pen as I went, though I already knew what he would order.

XXX

Jessica and I walked out after our shift arm in arm, giggling and chatting. Mike jogged after us and placed an easy arm round her waist, drawing her close for a kiss. I looked away, feeling a little awkward, but then I turned to smile at them.

"I think I might head home, guys," I said. "It's been a long day. My feet are killing me and I need a bath."

"You sure, Bella?" asked Mike, giving me a crinkly eyed smile that made me wish again that he was single. I nodded.

"Yeah, you two go on, have a great night. And Jess, enjoy your week off!" I watched them go and sighed.

"Love's young dream eh?" said a voice behind me and I turned to see Chef Cullen leaning against the doorway, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"You know that's really bad for you, right?" I asked, with a smile, trying to disguise the fact my heart just skipped a beat. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, taking a long drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out.

"Lots of things are really bad for you," he replied, with a shrug. "Like lusting after your friend's boyfriend."

His barbed comment only made my smile widen. Edward liked to play the mean guy, but I was convinced there was more to him than that.

"I don't exactly lust after him; I just think he's a nice guy. You know; friendly?"

"Friendly? Yeah that's one word for him." I glanced up at him at his tone; slightly sarcastic, almost bitter.

"You don't like him, Edward?" I asked. Though why I was surprised I don't know. Edward doesn't like any of us much. He very rarely speaks to us and when he does it is generally to bark orders. This was possibly the longest conversation I had had with him in the five months he had worked here.

"He's an asshole," replied Edward, with a shrug. "Fancies himself and expects everyone else to as well. You should watch yourself around him."

I raised an eyebrow myself and then shrugged.

"I mean it, Isabella. He's like a fucking dog on heat around women. He'll end up hurting her and then if you're stupid enough to fall for his charms he'll do the same to you. Stay away from him."

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" I asked, mildly. "Jess is my friend. Now I know she's with him, I won't even look at him. How's Emmett?" I changed the subject, abruptly. Edward gave me an intense look and then shrugged.

"I don't spend a lot of time with my brother. He works in the daytime, I work evenings and when we do have time off, he spends every minute of it with your housemate."

"Speaking of which, I better make a move. Are you heading home?"

"Not yet; I need to clean the knives off." He sighed and turned back towards the kitchen.

"Enjoy," I said.

"Yeah because I love cleaning the knives," he muttered.

"Why not just let one of your lackeys do it then?" I quipped. He gave me a cold stare.

"Because a good chef looks after his own knives, Isabella," he said, sounding vaguely pissed.

"Well, goodnight, Edward. Don't stay too late," I said, lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension, unsure why on earth he would suddenly be so irritated, but he had already disappeared back through the door into the kitchen.

Edward Cullen was easily the strangest man I had ever met; so angry and bitter all the time, but with such a gift for culinary genius that really he had it made. I sighed and headed down the road alone towards the apartment block where Rosalie and I lived. When I got in, the place was empty and I sighed. She had left a note to say she was going out with Emmett again. I didn't resent her having a boyfriend; really I didn't, but I kind of missed having my best friend to myself. Part of me wished that I could find my own partner. I went into the bathroom, switching on the light and found myself standing in front of the mirror, looking at my pale face and hair scraped back into a ponytail. Ruefully I admitted to myself I wouldn't be much of a catch, especially not for the one man who did capture my interest.

Turning on the shower, I stepped underneath the jet of water, closing my eyes and picturing a pair of emerald green eyes looking at me with love and adoration, instead of a vague sense of disapproval and dislike.

XXX

"Hey, Bella! You still awake?" Rosalie's voice came from the lounge and I woke with a jerk, dropping my book and realising I had fallen asleep while reading up on the text I needed for my lecture the following day. I sighed and got up, heading through to the living room, running a hand through my hair sleepily and then I froze in the doorway. Rose was sitting beside Emmett and Edward was in the armchair. I tugged on the bottom of the long t-shirt I had been wearing in bed and flushed beetroot red.

"Erm, I'll just get my dressing gown," I mumbled, as Edward looked me up and down, one eyebrow raised. I puffed out my cheeks as I reached my room and blew out my breath slowly. Heading for my closet, I pulled out the satin ankle length dressing gown Mom had bought me last Christmas which I never wore and then dragged my hairbrush through the bird's nest on my head. When I came back through to the living room, Rose grinned at me and waggled her eyebrows when she thought Edward wasn't looking. In truth, he was still staring at me, as if I had grown another head. He of course looked perfect. His hair was messy, but in such a way it looked deliberate and he was wearing a deep blue shirt and a pair of black jeans.

"Did we wake you, Bells?" asked Emmett. I smiled across at him and shook my head.

"I think I must have dozed off reading up on my notes for tomorrow," I replied, feeling another blush spreading up my cheeks.

"You too warm? I'll turn the heating off," said Rosalie, getting up from Emmett's lap and heading to the boiler. I watched her go and bit my lip, a little nervously. Edward was still looking at me, a slight scowl on his face and I pulled my dressing gown tighter around me.

"So, did you get your knives cleaned?" I asked and then cursed in my head at how stupid the question sounded.

"Of course. I told you; a good chef looks after his own knives," he replied, giving me a strange look. God I wished he would stop looking at me.

"I persuaded him to come into town for a drink, as it's Tuesday and you guys finish early," said Emmett. "We saw Jacob and Leah out too. Jake asked where you were."

"Sorry, Bella. I should have called you," said Rosalie, flopping back down beside Emmett. I shrugged.

"It's fine; I had to study anyway," I replied.

"You studied after a shift?" said Edward, raising his eyebrow. I smiled at him.

"When else would I study? Lectures finished at four and I started work at five," I replied, calmly.

"Bella's a straight A student," said Rosalie, proudly. "She doesn't have to worry too much."

"Rose," I protested but she raised a hand, silencing me, as she did her proud mom routine.

"Seriously. She works damn hard; harder than any of the rest of us do. I should still have called you though to see if you fancied a break." She gave me an apologetic smile and I shook my head.

"I probably wouldn't have come anyway. I'm worn out; it was a busy shift tonight..."

"Perhaps you should reduce your hours," commented Edward. "Surely your degree is more important than the Bistro."

I stiffened a little at his tone and found myself scowling at him; people rarely irritated me, but that statement really did.

"I can't afford to reduce my hours," I replied. "My parents are already paying my fees; I can't expect them to pay for my accommodation as well, especially as really I could have lived at home and commuted..."

"Then why didn't you?" asked Edward, again that sense of disapproval in his tone. Rosalie laughed at him, responding before I could.

"Because who the hell wants to live with their parents when they come to uni?" she said.

I got up a little stiffly.

"Well, I have to be up early tomorrow. Night everyone," I said, pausing to drop a kiss on Rosalie's cheek before I headed back through to my room. I went into the bathroom and cleaned my teeth, but stopped abruptly when I came out to hit into a solid wall of flesh. Edward reached down and steadied me, keeping hold of my arms when I went to go round him.

"I'm sorry if I crossed the line before," he said. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't," I said, giving him a smile and then heading towards my bedroom. "See you tomorrow."

"Sure," he said and as I closed my door I realised he was still watching me.