BELLA MARTIN 10

Bella

As I walked out of the clinic, I tried to keep a calm demeanor. I said my goodbyes to Mia, who gave me a wide, white smile as I walked away. As I walked down the road and into the coffee shop, I focused on my breathing. As I walked down the road and into the coffee shop, I focused on my breathing. "Hey, Bella," said the scrawny guy with a beard who had been wondering if I was dating Martin since I arrived. "How's the marketing coming along?" "It's good, but I'm in the middle of doing something; I'll talk to you later." Agent Del Fierro had given me some surveys and somebody was maintaining a social media following for the cafe to explain my hours in the cellar on the computer. All I had to do was avoid getting close to any of the guys on staff who were interested in dating me, and I could keep my cover. Fortunately, I was an expert at it. I found my way down to the basement, and it was on the stairs that I began to freak out. I wiggled with the keys and found my way into the storage room, where I could cry alone. I nearly erupted out and cry in Martin's office when he tried to introduce me to his mom as the coffee girl. It was a disgrace. This was a task. Why was I broken hearted when I was just the coffee girl? I realized why I was there. Worse, why was I broken hearted when all I was was the liar spying lady? I wrapped my arms around myself, genuinely wishing they were Martin's arms around me. Because I desired him. He helped me to feel better. Then the tears began to flow freely. I sobbed as I collapsed into my chair. Martin was making me fall in love with him. I adored him. And I was eavesdropping on him. They would never hire me at the FBI now. Or perhaps Martin will never want to be with me. I was torn right through the middle. How did I find myself in this situation? How could I have developed feelings for the subject of my investigation? I was both a bad person and a bad agent. I'd attempted to keep my distance while sticking close enough to find the information I needed for the entire month it had been going on. I'd discovered no evidence linking Martin to his father's illegal activity. I honestly didn't think he was connected. Instead, I'd just met a man who has made me smile, who did make me feel safe, who did care about what I thought, who was really interesting and amusing, who loved kids, who was kind and gentle, and who, oh my god, was the sexiest man I'd ever met, and I'd spent so long restraining myself from trying to strip him naked in an office with animated figures on the walls. And now. I'd planted a recording device under his desk in order to listen in on him and his mother's conversation and potentially uncover evidence of wrongdoing. I was almost dizzy with emotion, dread, and love. And then I turned on my laptop to pick up a signal and hit the play button. I quickly scanned through the last minute or so of my time there. "That's the coffee girl," Mrs. Metzger explained. She looks and sounds a little amused. "Don't start, Mom." "She has to make some amazing coffee." “Seriously.” "Will she be the one to give me grandchildren?" I couldn't stop listening and choked on nothing. I'm glad I wasn't present when she said that. "You're going too fast here, Mom. She is a single mother. We're taking things slowly." “Oh. So you like her a lot? Is this more than a flight of fancy? I was only joking before. She could be the one to give me grandkids. She's very attractive." "You have to come to a halt. You're fixated on the idea of me giving you grandchildren." “Yes. I've been very clear about this. I wanted you to come home. I would want you to have a good career as a doctor. I want you to get married and have a family. I get exactly what I want. This is the following step. She's already had one. That means she's been found to be fertile. There will be more babies." “No. It means we'll keep it light until we're ready to go deeper. But before we take the next step, we must be very careful." A startled gasp could be heard on the voice recorder. “What? What's the matter, Mom? ” Metzger, Martin Lawson. She is already the mother of a child. Oh my goodness. "Give me a tissue, I'm going to cry with joy." "You're being melodramatic, Mom." “Martin. Girl or boy? What is the age of my grandchild? ” In shock, I put my hand to my chest. "You don't have a grandchild." Bella is the mother of a nine-year-old daughter. We are not yet serious. She isn't my child. You must halt." "Yet," Helena Metzger said, unexpectedly sounding overly dramatic. She sounded determined. She wished for my daughter to be her granddaughter. My mouth became parched. "But you've met her." "I–" I knew Martin decided not to tell her, but he can not seem to keep anything from his mother. He was, on the whole, a trustworthy individual. He's a good man. I despised the fact that he was in the middle of all of this. But only a portion of the blame was mine. "I ran into her. She arrived as a patient. But she has no idea I'm dating her, mother. Nobody knew we were dating until you told them, mother. Up until now." "She's nine years old. hmmm I'd like to take her out for tea and pastries." “No. Mother. No. We're not there yet. And there's no guarantee we'll ever make it." "You know, when your dad met me, I was a waitress." "It's not the same as your parents owning a fine French restaurant. And it's unimportant." "I also worked as a waiter there. Working in the food service industry is not a bad thing. I believe you should take this girl." "You don't even know who she is." "Martin, my dear. I know you so much. And I'm aware of how much you adore her. And I have a strong impression of her. She's going to be giving me lovely grandchildren." He laughed and snorted. "You've got a one-track mind," he said, not sounding nearly as upset like he should have. Martin, I'm sorry. My stomach clenched. His mother began to laugh, but was cut off by the intercom, Mia's voice echoey and sharp coming through the wire. “Doc. Mr. Metzger is now on his way in,." I frantically searched for a notepad. Metzger. Martin despised him. I intended for this to be a record of any sensitive details Mrs. Metzger had on what her husband was up to. Alternatively, obtain proof of Martin's innocence. Instead, I was attempting to obtain the husband himself. Metzger. I recalled the dark, cold look he'd given me in the café that day. I was exactly his type. He was just not, however, mine. He was the antagonist in this story. He was the one we promised to stop before Martin got any worse. He despised his dad, Mrs. Metzger was extremely angry with him, and now he was here. The truth may come out in conflict. "Mom," Martin stated emphatically. "Did you plan this? Did you set up a meeting for us? You're aware that I'm not speaking to him. He's taken it too far. I don't want to be associated with him." "Yes, well, no one wants to speak with him, but we have to come to terms with him sometimes. I've learned that it's best to just fake smile and bear it until he gets what he desires and moves on to the next trollop. Alternatively, obsession." She laughed bitterly. "Don't fret, he's just stopping by to pick me up for this society meeting we have to attend. It's all about outward appearance, but we have to put on a good show. I would have avoided it if I could." The sound of the door opening and closing was picked up by the wire. Long stretches of silence passed. "I am so happy to be back in the arms of my family," a deep, sardonic voice said. Cold. He didn't sound like a family member at all. “Martin. You've been trying to avoid me. We weren't finished talking yet. This needs to be settled." "Yes, Dad, we were. It has been resolved. I already said no No, I. And I don't like how you're utilizing Mom to coerce me into agreeing to your plans." "This was the only way I could be certain of speaking with you. Have you given my offer any thought?" Martin's voice sounds very similar to his father's, but even when he was angry, Martin couldn't hide his warm feeling, whereas Anthony Metzger was cold, sharp, and heartless. "I thought about it, and my response remains the same." You are not permitted to incorporate the Friend That Lasts Forever Foundation under the auspices of your pharmaceutical company. I don't want to be involved in your business, and you won't be involved in mine." "You ungrateful ass, my business pays for your life." Martin chuckled angrily. "Is that why you're bringing Mom to see me? Do you think her appearance here will persuade me to give in? ” "He'd never do it," Helena stated calmly. "He knows I don't want you to be a part of it. Anthony, you can't have Martin because you've chosen to take my other children. He works as a doctor. Allow him to be his own man. Better let him go and do not include him in the family business ." "You both greatly disappoint me. You have no sense of family devotion. Martin, please drive your mother to the limo. I need to make a business call before I leave, and I'd appreciate some privacy." "Dad, do you ever get sick of telling people what to do?" Helena sighed in frustration. "It's pointless to argue with him when he's like this. He's not going to budge. He believes he is correct despite being completely wrong. Martin, come with me to the car. We can say our goodbyes in a civilized manner, and then we won't have to spend as much time in his company." The door finally opened and it closes. Nobody said farewell, civilized or not. The silence grew longer. There was the sound of moving, indicating that someone was still present. Mr. Anthony Metzger required a business phone call? This could be intriguing. I brushed aside Martin and his mother's conversational revelations. For a moment, there was only silence and some clattering. I sat there waiting. It finally started. "I'm in," he declared. His voice remained cold and deep, but the edge of rage had faded. Martin appeared to be correct. He considered his family to be his adversaries. I fought back the emotions of resentment and anger at what he'd done to Martin. Like Metzger, I needed to concentrate on the task at hand. He was nothing but intent. After a brief pause, I heard: "The keylogger has been installed. Check to see if it's reading correctly on your end." I did hear a few keyboard strokes. "How about right now?" "just a few more keystrokes. After a brief pause, he burst out laughing. "Wonderful, you're picking it up. All we have to do is to wait for him to log back in and complete those foundation assignments, and we'll have access to all of his passwords and plans. Before he realizes we're involved with the "Friendship That Lasts Forever" Foundation, distribution will have passed through his entire organisation, and he'll be so far into it that he won't be able to back out or report us without implicating himself." He started laughing into the phone, and I realized something: he despised his son for reasons other than familial animosity. It was a personal issue. "If he could just see that my arrangements are best for the family and for him, I don't have to force his hand like this. He's very much like his mother," he thought as he listened to the other end of the phone call. "True, he's not as credulous as she is, he would not want to let me get my hands on a cozy sanctuary like his good deed club, fortunately we were able to work around him– what do you mean she's no longer credulous” The silence bothered me. It sounded sinister even through the listening device. "And that is why she's been acting like such a shrew lately... But what does she think she'll get out of an investigation into my fidelity? It isn't like this is a novel concept. I have never really changed at all. She is the one who has changed. So what if I have several extramarital affairs? She's not going to divorce me because of it. She wouldn't ever give up the life I've given her... regardless of what I agreed to sign. That was forty years ago... No, it wasn't. Unacceptable. No way... That's not going to happen. This is the last straw.I'm not going to let that woman control my life any longer. That's all. Make the phone call we spoken about... you know what I'm talking about. Put out the strike. I believe it is time for me to become a widower." There was some shuffling, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. And then it was over. I sat back in my chair and turned off the computer. Martin was not guilty. His father, however, was not. His mother's life was in jeopardy. Was this enough to apprehend Metzger? I dialed the number for agent Del Fierro. IIt was insufficient. Neither sufficient to verify Anthony Metzger's guilt nor Martin's innocence. I should really have known better. This wasn't the end. I would just have to put my feelings for Martin aside and focus on the investigation. My heart, like his, was insignificant in this situation. I despised it, but I had to finish my task. I needed to keep Martin close by. And I couldn't keep him at bay any longer or I'd lose him. And because it's not just about my feelings...or his feelings...but about international issues, losing him meant people died. And it was time for me to put the thing I'd been putting off to the test. My soul. His as well. I was filled with despair and desperate anticipation as I prepared for our date. It hadn't been difficult to persuade Abuela to watch Yzee for the evening; they loved spending time together. I knew it wouldn't be an issue; I was just saying I couldn't prevent being alone with Martin because I did know if I gave myself half a chance, I'd fall in love with him. He was correct in that regard. Unfortunately. But it was now too late. I'd set myself on this perilous journey without knowing where it would lead. Because I didn't have the information I needed, I had to pull him closer to keep him from fleeing. I intended to show his innocence so that they wouldn't drag him in with whatever his father was up to. His father was a bad man, and the FBI was only interested in catching the Metzgers, not Martin. I was the only one who clearly cares about protecting Martin during this investigation, and I was willing to go to any length to do so. I went shopping for a new clothes, one for the job I was going to play, not for myself or Bella. Bella had completely destroyed everything by being overly emotional. And certainly not Arabella, who was stylish, sophisticated, and always in command. No. I needed a different persona, someone light and easygoing, someone young like I'd never had the opportunity to be. Somebody who didn't have any worries, obligations, or weight on her shoulders. Someone that could date Martin and not fall in love with him. Ara. I pretended to laugh in her voice. High and liberated. Fake. I decided to wear a flippy little skirt and a silky little top with a few rhinestones along the neckline, as well as platform sandals. I did my hair loose and let it naturally curl, and wore a peach cashmere scarf over my shoulders. My eyeshadow glistened, but I wasn't overly made up. I finished with a pink gloss. All was designed to assist me in presenting joy, happiness, and freedom. An optimism that I didn't have. As I rode up to meet him, I inspected the whole thing in the mirrored elevator. It wasn't from makeup, but my cheeks were flushed. It was my fault. I was terrified to see him. I was frightened that tonight would send me to a place from which I would never be able to return. Worse, I had a strong desire to visit that location. No, it does not. I had to inform myself of this. This was not my fault. Ara was her name. Ara was cheerful. She was having a good time. She wasn't madly in love. As I approached the penthouse level, I took a deep breath. I'm not going to sleep with him. I'd keep it simple and uncomplicated. Not Bella, who was in love with a man she'd never be able to keep, but Ara, who was having some fun with her new boyfriend. The door swung open, and there he was. He was not really dressed up, just wearing a worn t-shirt that did look so soft it made me want to rub my cheek against it. His jeans appeared soft as well, and his feet were bare, comfy, and at ease. Relaxed. It was a total catastrophe. He appeared taller than he had previously, though it was most likely due to my feelings for him. And his shoulders were enormous. I knew what it felt like to be embraced in those strong arms and to be valued and loved for. His dark hair was rumpled, as if he had been nervously running his fingers through it. I wished I could run my fingers through it. I'd calm him down. At the sight of me, his dark emerald green eyes were shadowed with unspoken words, and his soft shapely lips curved into a smile. I wanted to kiss him all the time. He exhaled a pleasant sigh. "Oh, Bella, it's great to see you." I'd gotten myself into a pickle.