The Pretend Fiancé (11 page)

But this was something different. She remembered the first time she had met Henry, and how he'd taken her and Aiden to a building in Manhattan he was having restored into some sort of fancy restaurant. He'd hired a chef straight in from Paris. Now that was well off.

And Aiden had actually kept her somewhat insulated from that lifestyle, so even she wasn't exactly sure what to expect with all this.

"I'm actually pretty excited, Gwenny," Barb said.

"That's good," Gwen replied. She caught the small smile on Aiden's lips upon hearing her parents' pet name for her, and knew he'd be teasing her with that as often as he could for the next few days.

"Let's go," Aiden said, doing his best to herd the cats towards the door.

Climbing into the car, Gwen experienced a spike of panic. Doubt assailed her.

We're being watched
, she thought.
What if we screw up, somehow? What if Judith decides that we've lost right here in the first round?

The car accelerated smoothly from the curb, pushing them back into their seats.

I shouldn't have done this. This is a bad idea...

Someone squeezed her knee. Someone turned out to be her dad. He looked a little pale, clearly still nervous himself. He smiled at her. "It's going to be fine. Stop worrying about it." Then he winked.

"Thanks," Gwen replied. She meant it, too. Something about his expression, his ability to smile despite his nerves, soothed the tension inside of her.

The restaurant they went to was called
Le Monde
, and it had a crenelated wall like you'd see along the top of a castle or old church. A large concrete patio took up the entire perimeter, dotted here and there with ornately carved fountains. Gwen saw a mermaid spilling water from an urn, and a man emptying what she took to be a keg. There were several more, but she didn't catch them.

A covered carport received the guests, with a valet waiting to open doors and park the car (which was not necessary for Gwen and Co.) and from there they followed a pretty blonde hostess down a red carpet and into the restaurant proper.

Excitement and anxiety both vied for control of Gwen's innards, seriously diminishing her appetite. Which was a shame, because a variety of mouth-watering aromas assaulted them as soon as they walked in through the main doors.

It smelled so good that she almost forgot to take a look around to see if she could figure out who Judith's mystery shopper might be.

A quartet played some airy piece of classical music from their raised dais against the wall. Below that was the hum of conversation. Most of the tables were occupied, and hardly anyone turned to see who'd come in.

For a second, Gwen had been scared that there might be an
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
moment. You know, one rich old man would turn around and notice that Gwen and her parents weren't
one of us
, point a white-gloved finger and let loose with one of those awful, high pitched wails.

But no one did.

It was a sea of tuxedos in there. Even the waiters wore them, bow ties and all.

They reached their table, which was thankfully off in the corner. Aiden pulled her chair out and sat her down.

And, to her surprise, David did the same thing with Barb. Her mother looked mildly shocked, and on the verge of saying something (probably along the lines of, "I remember how to sit down, thank you,") but thankfully bit the comment off before starting it.

Aiden sat down beside Gwen, for which she was grateful. It let them hold hands below the level of the table. She took full advantage of this, squeezing his fingers tightly so that he gave her a concerned look.

"What an... impressive array of forks and spoons," David said, examining his place setting.

"Don't worry. You start on the outside and work your way in," Aiden said.

A waiter with a thin black mustache on his lip came up to their table. He spoke in French. David, Barb, and Gwen blinked at each other.

Aiden quickly took up the slack, replying in kind. The only word that Gwen recognized was
Anglais.
That meant English, didn't it? The waiter nodded and then disappeared.

"So, um, did you just order for us?" Gwen said, remembering her encounter with Catherine. These international business people were always such high achievers.

Gwen knew that Aiden spoke French and a couple other languages besides, for instance. And right now, she was glad of it. It had also really helped them out a few times on their current trek across Europe.

"No. He wasn't our waiter. He was asking if this table is suitable. I told him yes, and that we'd prefer a server who speaks English."

"That should make things easier... Oh," David said, picking up one of the leather-bound menus and flipping it open. Gwen lifted the cover of hers and saw the confusion. The menu was in French and German.

Again, Aiden to the rescue. "I know it looks fancy. Just tell me the sort of thing you'd like to eat and I'll let you know which item on the menu matches it."

"Hello! Welcome to our establishment. I am Elsa, and I have the pleasure of serving you this evening."

Elsa smiled down at them. Another fine European specimen, Gwen thought. Elsa kept her blonde hair tied up in a bun, which better showed off her slender, graceful neck. Fine cheekbones, too. Of course a place like this would only hire beautiful women.

She seemed pleasant enough, but Gwen instantly suspected her. A member of the serving staff made a lot of sense for spying purposes. Much better than one of the people sat at any of the tables around them, anyway.

It also didn't help that her father seemed instantly taken with the woman.

"Elsa! That's a pretty name," David said, smiling

"Thank you, sir," Elsa replied.

And was that a blush? Gwen looked more closely at the waitress. Yes, the crisp whiteness of Elsa's jacket made the flush on her cheeks even more obvious.

That, and how Elsa kept glancing down as though unable to maintain eye contact with David.

Gwen's first thought was:
Gross!
Elsa looked around Gwen's age, meaning the man was old enough to be her father. And besides, Barb sat right beside him and could see the whole thing.

Though she didn't seem as perturbed by it as Gwen thought she might be.

"Dad!" Gwen said, wondering if she should try and kick his shin under the table.

"What?" David said. Then he noticed the look in Gwen's eyes and said, "Oh, yes. Ah, right. Nice meeting you, Elsa. Can I start with the house salad?"

"Of course!" Elsa replied.

The evening went on, and as it did, Gwen's nerves calmed down. The food really was five-star quality, and the wine Aiden picked from the menu really did pair well with it. Though maybe it was the wine that did most of the aforementioned nerve-soothing.

Gradually, Gwen smiled and laughed and let herself fall back into the moment rather than staying entangled in her own anxieties.

So what if they were being watched? So what if her dad kept flirting with Elsa every time she came back to the table to check on them, topping up their wine or bringing aperitifs between courses? Though if you asked Gwen, Elsa kept coming back to the table a little too often.

Whoever Judith had spying on them would see that they weren't weird sociopaths, but a family that could be happy for one-another. Even if their high society dining etiquette was a bit lacking.

"This is actually pretty nice," Gwen said, leaning over to whisper to Aiden.

He nodded, his hand finding hers again. "I think so. The music, the food. I'm actually considering sending Judith a thank-you note for suggesting it!"

"This could actually work..." Gwen said, more to herself than to him.

"You know what? I think you may be right," Aiden replied.

"Don't sound so shocked about it or anything."

The music emanating from the quartet chose that moment to swell. Gwen felt the warmth of Aiden's hand surrounding hers, the pleasant heat of the wine in her stomach. She and Aiden shared a sweet kiss and the warmth of his lips touching hers joined in with the rest of the heat. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

"Why couldn't you have been more like that with me?" Barb said as Gwen and Aiden finished their public display of affection.

Her mother ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her empty wine glass. She used her other hand to prop up her chin, her elbow resting on the white table cloth.

Gwen tried to remember just how much Barb had to drink so far. She did remember Elsa coming over fairly often with a bottle of wine.

The happy warmth in Gwen's stomach cooled when she noticed the flush in her mother's face.

"Like what?" David said.

The waitress in question currently stood beside David's chair, smiling as she refilled David's wine glass. "Thank you, dear," David said, accepting the wine glass back. Gwen noticed the way his fingers overlapped Elsa's for a moment too long.

David's face also had a similar drunken flush to it. The cooling sensation in Gwen's stomach turned icy.

Gwen tried to lean in and convey all this to Aiden so that she could enlist his help, but Barb broke in before she could.

"More for me, too, Eliza," Barb said, holding up her glass as Elsa rounded the table.

"It's Elsa, Barb," David corrected.

"Of course," Barb continued, "And I mean why couldn't you have been more like Aiden is with Gwenny?"

"I'm sure he was, mom," Gwen rushed in, "You're probably just not remembering it. You guys did get married a long time ago..." Even as she said the words, she knew they were the wrong ones. Her mother's snort confirmed that hypothesis.

"No, he was never like that. Were you, David? Not a romantic bone in your whole body."

David glowered at Barb over his wine glass with a long-suffering stare.

"Oh, please, Dave. Don't give me that look. You need to save all your energy for ogling that French girl..."

"She's Swiss. They speak French and German in Switzerland," David said, beginning to swirl the wine in his glass.

Barb
tsked
him. Maybe it was the wine getting to Gwen's head, too, but for the moment all she could do was watch the train wreck unfold in front of her.

"Like you care. She's young and pretty and that's all you care about anymore. Control yourself for once. You know, I'm glad I left you..."

"And I'm sorry it didn't happen sooner," David finished. Then he put the glass to his lips and tilted it back, making sure to maintain eye contact with Barb while he drained every last drop, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow. Barb huffed and shook her head in a long-suffering manner.

"How much have you had to drink, dad?" Gwen said, trying to get his attention.

"Not enough yet, I think," David replied.

"More than enough, you lush," Barb added.

"I think maybe we've all had a little more than we think," Aiden said, "Excuse me, we're going to need our check now." He flagged down a waiter.

"I can have as much as I want! Elsa, dear, I seem to be empty again," David said, lifting his glass into the air and giving it a little shake.

People around them started to quiet down and stare. They whispered to each other, Gwen catching little snatches of French or German and a few other foreign tongues on top of those. She didn't understand the words, but she certainly grasped the meaning beneath them.

Loud Americans. Noisy tourists. Did they really get drunk during supper? They shouldn't be here. They don't belong here.

Gwen imagined Judith getting the report. She could picture the old witch grinning with glee. It had all been a trap. A way for Judith to hammer the point home.

Elsa came up again, her sloshing bottle of wine at the ready. Before she could pour any, Aiden reached across the table and took David's glass away. "I think you've had enough."

"He's looking at enough in the rear view mirror," Barb said.

"You, too," Aiden said, collecting her glass while he was at it.

Gwen tried to shrink into her chair. She could feel all those eyes staring over at the table. At her fiancé treating her parents like a pair of unruly children. Aiden meant well, she knew. But he made it worse when he tried to fix it.

She had to suppress her own urge to yell at the bunch of them, to scream at them and tell them that they were doing just what Judith expected them to do. That, too, would just make it all worse.

Because that would play into the expectations of all the people watching them. Yes, the noisy Americans would try to fix their problems by becoming even noisier.

"Please get me the bill," Aiden said, "Now."

Elsa did as he asked, returning with the little leather-bound booklet, the long, glossy receipt flopping out of the top. Aiden took out a black charge card and put it down, scribbling his name across the receipt once Elsa processed it.

Gwen just wanted to get out of there. She felt ready to burst. Ready to scream. She couldn't wait to get back to the big bed in their suite so that she could bury her face in a pillow and do just that.

Aiden pulled her chair out as she stood, and she thanked him.

"Come on, Barb," David said, moving to emulate Aiden.

"I can stand up by myself. Go away!" Barb said.

David either didn't hear her or didn't care. He kept going. Except he tried pulling Barb's chair back before she'd moved all her weight off it.

All the blood drained out of Gwen's face. She watched the whole thing in slow motion. Her mother yelped as she lost her balance. Without the chair there to catch her, she fell down, grabbing at the table for support. Her fingers snagged in the table cloth and yanked it.

The expensive crystal wine glasses tumbled over, shattering, and the bottle of water in the middle tipped and began dumping its contents.

Even the quartet stopped playing when they heard the racket.

"Look at this! Look at this!" Barb yelled. Aiden rushed in quickly, helping her to her feet.

In the meantime, David had scribbled something down on a napkin and handed it to Elsa.

The maître d' with his thin mustache came over, his lips pressed into a tight line. "I'm going to have to ask your party to exit the premises, please."