Fridays at Noon by troublefollows1017.pdf

Fridays at Noon

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6453369/1/

*Summary:* Edward Masen's life intersects with Bella's at the restaurant

he dines at for lunch every Friday. He's handsome, arrogant, and is used

to avoiding love. She isn't impressed by the things that usually have

women falling at his feet. AH/AU.

Chapter 1

Friday, June 18th at Noon

I finished refilling all of the salt shakers, placed fresh flowers in

all the vases on the tables in the main dining area, helped cut up the

fruit for the bar, took orders for two tables, and now wanted two

minutes in the back room without my damn heels on while I waited for my

tables' food. I never wore heels but they were a required part of the

uniform. How I hadn't sprained an ankle yet was beyond me.

"Bella! There you are!" Rosalie snapped as she came through the door and

spotted me. "Jessica's not coming in, and I need someone to cover the

private dining room."

"And you want that person to be me?" I said, sounding a little too

shocked for her liking.

She narrowed her hazel eyes at me. Rosalie didn't have to say anything,

she invoked fear deep within me with only a look.

I shook my head and tried to come off more confident. "I mean,

absolutely. Whatever, you need, Rosalie."

Waiting tables was not my chosen profession. It was more like my

/needed/ profession, needed if I was going to have money to live

somewhere and occasionally eat. I was an English teacher by trade, but

due to recent cutbacks and the fact that I was on the bottom of the

totem pole, I was let go at the end of the school year. The entire

economic downturn was making it hard to find a job anywhere. Lucky for

me, my roommate, Jasper, talked his sister, Rosalie, into giving me a

job at the restaurant she managed in the heart of downtown Seattle.

I had never worked at a restaurant before, but I was good at cooking

dinner for my dad when I was in high school. I figured it couldn't be

that hard to take some orders and schlep out food. I didn't have to cook

anything, just deliver it to the customer. Things at Eclipse were a

little bit more complicated than that, unfortunately. My week-long

training session was a huge eye opener. I needed to have the menu

memorized, as well as have general knowledge of the wine list. I needed

to know what wine went with what menu item and be able to describe how

each dish was prepared. It was completely mind-boggling. Then there were

the rules of serving. I had no idea there were rules about what side you

should serve a person from or about allowing someone to taste the wine

before they were poured an entire glass. I felt extremely out of my

league but was determined to be a fast learner. It was the overachiever

in me. I did not like failing at anything.

Eclipse was also not the kind of restaurant I would ever eat at for two

reasons. One, I couldn't even afford an a la carte dessert on my budget.

Two, they served things I had never even heard of, things like foie gras

and something called ricotta and corn agnolotti in summer truffle

consummé. I was more the veggie burger and fries kind of girl. Lately,

store brand mac-n-cheese was keeping me alive. The people who frequented

Eclipse were wealthy, very wealthy. We had Seattle's who's who dining

with us all the time. Sometimes it was some big name athlete or some

swanky politician. Powerful business people in fancy suits filled the

restaurant daily.

"Mr. Masen reserves the upstairs dining room every Friday at noon,"

Rosalie explained as she led me to the stairs leading to the private

dining room. "Jessica is his server of choice but obviously she thinks I

didn't know she planned to go away this weekend with her boyfriend. For

some reason, she thinks I am not the eyes and the ears of this place!

For some reason, she thought she could screw me over last minute! Well,

her little fake sick call just cost her this job. I hope you don't need

reminding that I know everything that happens in this establishment, and

anyone who doesn't understand that will pay dearly. Do I need to remind

you, Bella?"

I shook my head. Message received loud and clear – do not mess with

Rosalie Hale. Rosalie was so different from her brother. Rosalie was a

high strung Type A personality. It was the kind of personality needed to

run a restaurant, I supposed. Jasper, on the other hand, was one of the

most easy-going people I had ever met. We met in college and had been

friends for a couple years. Besides helping me with the job situation,

he took me in when I couldn't afford to live on my own any longer.

Jasper had saved me from the shame of having to move back home to live

with my dad. For this, I would be eternally grateful. He and I were

great friends – completely platonic, of course. He had a girlfriend

named Maria, who I thought kind of treated him like crap, but it wasn't

my place to judge.

I started up the stairs to the private dining area and tripped on the

first step, landing painfully on my left knee.

"Bella," Rosalie spat like it was a curse word. "Try not to embarrass

you or, more importantly, /me/. Mr. Masen's business is a big deal. He's

here with his assistant today. You should be able to handle a table of

two. I would send Emmett in there but Mr. Masen prefers female servers,

and you are all I have unfortunately. So don't mess this up."

/Don't mess it up./ That would be my mantra.

The wait staff at Eclipse was mostly male, which surprised me at first.

Then I added up my first day tips. The clientele did tip extraordinarily

well. Men could support their families working as servers at Eclipse. I

really had no idea what Jasper was getting me into when he offered to

help me out. This was not Forks Diner. Hell, this wasn't even Red

Lobster, and I used to think that was fancy.

I made my way up the stairs, careful to put one foot firmly on each

step, so I didn't fall again. I opened the door and found two men

sitting at the long rectangular table. They were both dressed in

expensive-looking suits, and one was noticeably older than the other.

The older man had short, thinning grey hair and a closely cropped beard.

He was a good looking older gentleman, but it was his younger

counterpart who took my breath away.

The man had a wild mess of bronze hair on his head. There were strands

of reddish-brown hair sticking up in all different directions that

somehow looked purposeful. He couldn't have been over thirty, probably

wasn't much older than me, actually. His eyes were so green, you

couldn't help but take notice of them even from across the room. Then

there was the jaw porn. Oh my, did the man have a jawline that made me

want to touch it, preferably with my tongue.

The two men were engaged in a serious conversation and paid no attention

to me. I stood patiently to the side, waiting for them to acknowledge

me, so I could welcome them and explain our specials for the day.

"I swear Alec, if I had a fucking nickel for every time someone has told

me they're sorry today," the younger man ranted. I couldn't help but

think he should be a little bit more careful about talking to his boss

like that.

"I know, Edward. I know."

"It's ridiculous," he huffed, running his hand through that mess of hair

on his head. He turned his head just enough to catch sight of me. "What?"

/Oh shit. /He was talking to me.

"Where's Jessica? We've been here for five minutes, and no Jessica."

I stepped further into the room and tried to smile even though I was so

nervous, I could feel the sweat beads forming on my forehead.

"Sorry, Jessica is out today. My name is Isabella, I'll be your server

this afternoon." I hated using my full name, but Rosalie insisted that

Isabella sounded more formal and should be the name I used with customers.

"See!" The young man pounded his fist on the table, making the

silverware and glasses rattle. "What did I tell you? /Sorry/. It's all

I've heard today!" he shouted.

This guy might've been hot, but maybe hot-headed was a more accurate

description.

"Relax, it's not her fault Jessica's not here. Right, Isabella?" The man

I assumed to be Mr. Masen looked up at me with a reassuring smile.

"Right, sir," I replied nervously, trying to focus on the much more

polite Mr. Masen. His assistant could really take some lessons on how to

treat people who handle his food. I handed them a menu and began

explaining our daily specials. "Today we have two specials-"

"I don't need to hear the specials," the snippy assistant said, never

even opening his menu. "We'd like a bottle of your Romanée-Conti, 2000

preferably, but 2004 will do as well. I'll have the heirloom lettuce to

start and then the lamb."

I blinked a few times, not sure I heard him correct. I did not have our

significantly long wine list memorized, but I knew that was one of the

most expensive kinds of wine we offered. Bottles of that stuff didn't

cost hundreds of dollars, they cost thousands - a few thousand. I looked

at his boss for some sign that maybe he shouldn't be ordering such an

expensive bottle. Mr. Masen was busy looking at the menu.

"I'll start out with the soup and then the beef short ribs," he smiled

warmly, handing me the menu back. I picked up the other, unused menu

that sat beside Mr. Hot-headed Assistant because it was obviously too

much work to hand it to me.

"You're ok with the Romanée-Conti?" I asked, wanting to make sure he

heard what his assistant had ordered.

"Excuse me?" Edward the Assistant asked through a clenched jaw. His

green eyes were alight with a fierceness I was not accustomed to seeing.

"Sorry, j-j-just making sure that was ok," I stuttered.

He threw his hands up. "Did you hear that Alec? I'd be ten cents richer!"

"Edward, relax," Mr. Masen said with great concern. "You're going to

give yourself a heart attack before you're thirty."

"I'm sure they taught you in waitress school that you should do what the

customer asks without question," Edward the Assistant spat condescendingly.

Part of me wanted to congratulate him on obviously graduating at the top

of his class from asshole school, but I mustered up enough restraint to

stay quiet.

The only gentleman at the table turned to me with another kind smile.

"Whatever Mr. Masen ordered is fine with me. I would never question his

taste, even if I didn't work for him."

Time froze. My jaw must have hit the floor, and I wasn't sure how I

didn't pass out. Mr. Hot-headed Assistant was actually Mr.

Masen/Hot-headed Boss while the older, gentler Mr. Masen was not Mr.

Masen at all but Mr. Alec the Not Hot-headed Assistant.

"Of course, sorry," I apologized.

"Fifteen!" the real Mr. Masen roared.

"Sorry," I muttered again because my brain and mouth were no longer

connected.

"Twenty! Can we make it a quarter?" he asked, glaring at me with his

hard, jade colored eyes.

I shook my head and exited the room as quickly as my feet would move me.

I zipped down the steps and managed to slip just before reaching the

bottom. My butt hit the second to last step with a painful thud. I

jumped up and winced as I made my way to get their bottle of wine and

place their food order.

Emmett noticed my fall and followed me.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. My butt's going to hurt tomorrow, and I probably will /not/

be earning anything close to a fifteen percent tip today, but I'll be fine."

"How's it going up there? Jessica says Masen can be a real ass

sometimes. You'd think a guy who's got billions of dollars could buy

some manners."

My eyes went wide. "Billions?"

Emmett laughed, "Bells, do you seriously have no idea who that guy is up

there? Edward Masen, CEO of Masen Corporation. He's a software

developer, created the most popular software security program in the

world right now. Came from money, but in the last couple years, he's

made more than everyone in his family combined. I heard he's worth close

to twenty-eight billion. He's like twenty-eight years old with

twenty-eight billion dollars. Can you imagine?"

/Twenty-eight. Billion. Dollars. /That kind of money just did not compute.

"Great. Well, that explains his choice of wine. It also explains why he

looked like he wanted me dead when I mistook his assistant for him.

Great. Just great." I was such an idiot. I questioned a

multi-billionaire about a bottle of wine that cost a fraction of what he

probably makes in an hour.

Emmett laughed at me again. "Oh man. Don't mess this thing we got going

with him, Bella. He reserves that room every Friday at noon. Rosalie

will have your head if he stops coming in because you offended him."

"Got it," I replied, needing to find our sommelier, and suddenly wishing

Jessica and her boyfriend had waited one more day to make that stupid

trip to San Francisco.

Eric, our wine expert extraordinaire, handed me the ridiculously

expensive bottle of wine and reminded me for the millionth time to let

it breathe for a few minutes before handing it to the customer. I

carried the forty-five hundred dollar bottle of wine up the stairs like

it was my own child. Something told me that if I fell and it broke, I

would be broke because Rosalie, in addition to firing me, would

confiscate my next paycheck and then sue me for the remainder, which

would still be a lot.

Amazingly, I made it upstairs without falling or breaking anything. I

poured the extremely expensive wine into his glass and gave it a few

minutes to breathe. I served their appetizers and then handed him his

glass so he could taste the wine and approve.

Edward Masen stared into the glass before swirling the deep red wine

around. He raised it to his nose, sniffing before he lifted the glass to

his lips. I found myself mesmerized. He had pretty lips, even for an

asshole. He took a sip but I could tell he didn't swallow. He let the

wine sit on his tongue. I watched him swallow eventually and then take

one more sip. My eyes were focused on his mouth. I wanted to look away

but there was something about him that made it impossible. His tongue

poked out and licked his bottom lip. I strongly disliked him and his

twenty-eight billion dollar attitude but his mouth was kind of perfect.

He set the glass down and then nodded his approval. I filled his glass

and then his assistant's.

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