His Personal Assistant

Chapter 4

BPOV.

Tonight, I was going to employ his brothers, and my friends, in my newly developed, Help-Bella-Seduce-Her-Boss Campaign.

Victory Night Club was exactly what one would expect from the Upper East Side. It was Post-Post-Modern, dark, moody, and smoky, and all we had seen of it so far was the

line outside and the ladies room.

Alice and Rose had been more then happy to go to one of the most exclusive clubs in town courtesy of two of the most eligible bachelors in the world, and we had agreed to

meet the guys at their exclusive table in the VIP area.

Or, at least, we would have, if it weren't for the fact that I had dragged both of them into the toilets the minute the bouncer let us through.

"I thought there was some billionaire daddy's boy waiting to get in my pants?" Rose asked irritably, staring at my reflection. The three of us were lined up in front of the vanity

mirrors, though how our Alice coordinated dresses, hair and make-up could be improved on was a mystery.

"Geesh, Ro," I interjected, momentarily deterred from my original topic for discussion, "give the guy a chance before you shove your Marxist boot up his ass. He's one of the

sweetest people I know."

She gave a very un-ladylike snort for someone wearing baby pink. "Yeah right, as if he doesn't think I'm just going to crawl all over his rich ass. C.R.E.A.M, Bella. Just cause

you don't believe it, don't mean it aint true. Cash Rules Everything Around Me."

Alice huffed on the other side of me, and poked her tongue out at Rosalie. Rosalie was studying the detrimental impacts of living in a Western Capitalist consumer society, while

working part time for a left-wing newspaper. Alice was studying to become fashion designer while working part time as a personal shopper for Chanel. Needless to say, I often

felt like Switzerland between the two of them.

"Anyway," I said loudly, before Alice could do more then stick her tongue out, "I brought us in here for a group huddle."

Now they were both looking at my reflection expectantly. I rarely called a group meeting, mostly because my love life was sadly lacking. Except when I fall asleep and imagine

my boss pounding into me like an animal on his bed...focus, Bella!

"Remember how I may have mentioned once or twice my incredibly small, slight, teensy practically platonic interest in Mr. Cullen?" I asked, as if this were a throw away

question of no real importance.

Rosalie simply rolled her eyes, but Alice chirped, "Bella, you've definitely mentioned it once or twice...in the last ten minutes. Since you started working there, you've mentioned

it so many times that if I have to hear how dreamy Edward Cullen is one more time I'm going after the guy with a shot gun and a shovel." I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of a

pixie like Alice trying to off anyone.

"Not to mention the loud orgasmic dreams we've got to hear you having every night." And then Rosalie started to scream at the top of her lungs, "OH GOD YES! EDWARD,

YOU FEEL SO GOOD! DO ME HARDER YOU SEX–" I clapped a hand over her mouth as a group of girls by the hand dryers giggled.

"So clearly you get my point," I hastily said, and then the next words came out so fast that if they weren't like my sisters they would have had no clue what I'd said.