Twelve

Bella's POV

"Jameson wants to see you. He says it's urgent. Can you make it anytime soon?"

Lamonthe's words flutter in my mind as I ransack through my wardrobe for an outfit to wear. The very thought of seeing Jameson again has somehow returned the butterflies in my tummy.

I have been worried sick all morning about the confrontation I had with Dad last night. He had threatened to disown me if I ever mentioned divorcing Matt again.

Lamonthe's call managed to change that. I wasn't expecting to hear from Jameson anytime soon, especially after the divorcing Matt plan hadn't gone as intended.

I bit my lower lip as indecisiveness clouds through my mind on picking out what to wear. I bring out a yellow flare gown with a V neck open at the back.

"Too revealing?" I mutter, placing it against my body and checking out the result on my reflection. When I decide that it isn't giving me what I want, I return it to its position and bring out a floral straight cut gown.

The last thing I need is for Jameson to see the marks lining all over my body. That might distract him from noticing me. I don't want him to pity me or deviate from whatever discussion we are supposed to have.

A few moments later, I check out how I look in the floral gown, loving the way it hung on every curve of my body.

"This is it," I say to myself while packing my hair into a simple ponytail.

Most of our help, which I meet on my way down the stairs, didn't bother to ask for my whereabouts. Unlike before the wedding when everyone was treating me like a princess. The lies Lauren and Dad spread to the media had really taken a negative effect on my relationship with them.

With my head held up high, I stride towards the front door. And on getting outside, I begin moving straight to my car. Someone calls out my name, which makes me pause on my heels and turn, only to stumble backward.

"Bella baby, wait up?"

I can feel my face heating up with each step Amanda takes towards me.

"What do you want?" I ask her as a matter of fact. Seeing her again has succeeded in making those horrible images from my wedding night return.

"I came to apologize."

"You came to apologize," I repeat her words.

She nods, pouting her lips cutely at me.

"Okay, let's get something straight, shall we? You, my best friend, slept with my husband on my wedding night. My husband! On my wedding night! What else do you want from me? Why are you only here to apologize?"

"I was drunk that night, alright? It all happened so fast. I didn't mean to betray you the way I did."

"This is beyond betrayal. You shattered everything within me, Amanda!"

She grabs my hands, holding them so tight I had no other choice than to let her, even though I want nothing to do with her. I don't care about her apologies. I certainly do not care to know what happened that night.

"Please, Bella baby. You can't let go of everything we had built over the years just because of a silly mistake. We were supposed to be best friends forever, remember?"

The sincere look on her face makes what she did almost unbelievable. It is as if it was someone else I had seen on top of Matt that night. Nothing she is saying about being drunk makes any sense.

"Will you forgive me, Bella?" She pleads.

I let out a tiring breath. This has become all too much for me to handle. Ever since that night, my emotions have been swinging all over the place. I haven't had any chance to think clearly about anything. But one thing I am certain of is that I am not forgiving either of them anytime soon.

"Forgiving you, or Lauren or Matt or my Dad who brought all this to me, is the last thing on my mind."

With that, I continue my short trip to my car. I didn't allow her to reply or to try gauging what her facial expression is like before roaring my car to life.

"Bella, wait!"

I ignore her knock on my window glass, speeding past her and towards the gate. For a moment, I thought the security guard wouldn't open up the gate for me. He must have seen the mean look on my face, which ends up clearing the last trace of hesitation in his eyes.

Letting out a breath which I didn't realize I have been holding until I speed past the gate, I make my way towards the intersection that will lead me straight to Jameson's mansion.

Whatever is the reason why he wanted to see me, I trust it is as urgent as Lamonthe mentioned. I haven't known Jameson for a long time, but from the little I know, he is a man of his words.

But what could it be that needed urgent attention?

Excitement tingles deep down my stomach till I arrive at his gates.

"Hello, Bella. It's so good to see you here again," Lamonthe says, opening my car door and gently taking my hand to help me out of the car.

"Hi. Is he in?"

"Sure, right this way. May I say you are looking absolutely stunning. Unlike the last time I…" he trails off, clearing his throat.

I already know what he meant, but I choose not to allow the past to drain the little excitement I have gathered ever since I learned that Jameson wants to see me.

"Has he been waiting for me for a long time?"

"Not particularly, if you ask me. He has several meetings from our other branches outside the States demanding his attention."

Lamonthe's answer drenches some part of the excitement. But I didn't allow it to deter me.

I meet Jameson inside his home office, with his back turned to the door and his attention deep into the phone call he was answering.

Another part of that excitement slips past me. I was hoping he would notice how cute I had dressed for him.

I sit on one of the chairs facing his, continuing to wait for him. He must have sensed a presence because he turns at that moment, gives me a curt nod, before backing me all over again.

There was a look that crossed his eyes, but it was so quick, I couldn't interpret what it is.

"Hello, Bella. It's so good to see you again," Jameson says a few minutes later, "Let's get to the point, shall we?"

I swallow past an embarrassing lump as I listen to him talk about a genius plan Lamonthe raised, which was to make me the brand ambassador of Pentagon Beauty.

He slips a paperwork to my front, and neatly places a pen beside it.

"And how exactly would this help get back at my father and my husband?" I ask him in a low tone.

The word husband still feels heavy on my tongue, but I have no other choice than to use it, after a hard fight to accept my sad reality as Mrs. Davenport.

"Becoming the face of a brand your father detests so much will jab him at the wrong places. Or don't you think so?"

Thinking about it, I don't see much difference between Jameson and my dad. They are both trying to use me as their pawns.

"I don't know. It seems to me that you both are trying to do the same thing. How is using me to get back at my father any different from what he has been doing to me all these while?"

I slowly stand, fighting a wave of dizziness along the line.

This whole craziness is depressing the life out of me and I hate it for myself. I hate the fact that my family is tossing me around like a cheap piece of chess. The man I have been in love with for years turned out to be worse than the devil himself, leaving me at a lonely crossed road.

Now here I am, trying to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea.

Jameson stands and rushes to where I am. He places both his hands on my shoulders, causing my self awareness to rise to a dangerous level. A surge of heat swipes through my whole body, just from his touch.

As if what his touch is doing to me isn't enough, I breathe in his scent and it goes right ahead to cloud my senses, intensifying the dizziness.

I find my head lowering onto his shoulders.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks in a tone that is laced with concern, "C'mon, look at me."

I raise my head with an intention to take a quick glance at his face, only to find myself being drawn by the intensity of the concern in his eyes. His fingers brush past some of my hairs on my face that have left its position. He allows his hand to linger on my face.

A strange force pulls my head towards his until our lips are a few inches apart.