The Pretend Girlfriend (18 page)

Gwen thought about these last few days with Aiden. About how he continually rejected her, how he seemed to show just enough affection and promise to keep her well within his grasp, about the way it hurt to not know if he felt the same way at all towards her.

"It's the right thing to do. For Aiden," Henry said.

Gwen picked up the pen.

G
wen couldn't believe this. She leaned against the back corner of the elevator, watching the numbers count down towards the ground floor.

A small tremble (well, it started small) started in her knees and made its way upwards, ending with a prickling sensation in her scalp. She gripped the brushed steel rails, the metal getting warm beneath her fingers.

Did I do the right thing?
Gwen wondered. Really though, looking back on it, she knew it was the right thing.

You couldn't let a guy like Henry Manning get his own way all the time.

And it had just been oh so satisfying to toss that heavy, expensive pen back across his desk. She'd actually managed to startle him a little with that, as much as a guy like that could feel something like startlement.

"Just remember this later on," Henry told her, picking the pen up and tucking it back into his jacket.

"Later on when?" Gwen said, drunk with her small victory over him.

"When things get difficult. Please see yourself out," he said. Then he went over to the window and looked out over the Manhattan skyline, which still blazed with the early morning light.

That had miffed her a little, but she took his silence for pouting and left. His secretary said something about a car as she stormed past, but Gwen didn't want to hear it.

And that led her to the current moment, feeling the smooth, almost silent descent of the elevator that would be packed full of suit-wearing business people in a few hour's time.

She wasn't sure why she'd done it. She had a feeling, an inkling, but certainty eluded her. Part of it was just to try and get another one-up over Henry, of course. But some small portion of her still thought about how much easier that money would have made her life. How much easier (or perhaps "simpler" was a better term here) her life would be without Aiden in it.

After all, he'd only really been a part of it for so brief a time. Surely, these last few days weren't enough to leave a lasting imprint?

The elevator halted at the ground floor. She'd grown so used to the motion that her stomach continued downwards for a few moments more. The doors chimed softly as they slid open, and Gwen once more found herself walking through the cavernous main lobby, her footfalls echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

Outside, the breeze ruffled her hair. She took a deep breath, wondering if this was how a long-term prisoner felt when they finally stepped out into the open air as a free person. How could someone spend their whole life in a building like this one, riding the elevator up and down all day every day?

Maybe that was why Aiden never seemed to spend much time there, as far as she could tell.

At the curb waited the same black Town Car that had taken her to meet with Henry. The driver got out when he saw her and went for the door, but she got to it first. It was nice when Aiden got doors for her, but she was getting tired of never getting to open her own doors. It was good to know that she could still do so under her own power.

The driver climbed back in and soon they were off once more. Traffic had picked up a bit, but was still pretty light. Gwen thought about breakfast and her stomach growled. If the driver heard, he pretended not to notice. She started wondering what it would be like to be a driver. She bet it was lonely, sitting there while the rich and famous pretended you didn't exist, or that you were nothing more than another component of the car, an appliance to get used as needed.

But that, she knew, was just a distraction from her real concerns. Like why she'd just turned down the free out that Henry had just offered her.

It's because you still think you have a chance
, Gwen thought. She glanced furtively up at the driver again, as though he might have some way of hearing her thoughts and reporting them back to his boss.

But that, of course, was ridiculous. However, ridiculous seemed to be her new way of life. Who in their right mind did the sort of things she'd been doing these last few days, signing girlfriend contracts and all that?

No, this was all Aiden's fault, she knew. He'd lured her in with good looks and a good mystery (the mystery being: just who is this guy?). And just like a good fish, she'd taken the bait and now found herself stuck on the end of his line. Not that she was doing much to free herself.

And that was the thing, she knew as she watched the river flash by beneath them, she'd thrown that pen back at Henry because she wasn't about to give up on Aiden.

This really could be something special, if only he'd let it be. But every time she tried to feel him out, to see if maybe he felt the same way, he stonewalled her.

Of course, this whole thing was absolutely exhausting. When the driver pulled the car up in front of the building, she almost let him get the door for her. But it wasn't the time to give in. She flung the door open and got out. Inside the lobby, she checked her phone. Just after seven.

She sighed as she jabbed the button for the elevator. Both Aiden and his father seemed to think she was at their every beck and call. They would send her a message (more like an order) and expected her to simply jump and obey.

Though, she had to admit, every time one of them told her to jump she did indeed respond by asking just how high.

By the time she got back into her apartment, the exhaustion well and truly set in. Rubbing at her eyes, she kicked off her shoes and just flopped down onto her bed, telling herself that she was just going to take a day and sleep in. No Aiden, no Henry. If Aiden wanted something from her, he was just going to have to wait.

She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep to take her quickly.

It didn't. She thought maybe it was the slice of that sadistic morning sunlight coming in around the curtain, so she pulled the blanket up over her head. But then she kept getting a tickle right at the tip of her nose. When she finally managed to calm that, she found she couldn't keep her eyes closed.

"Come on, I'm tired..." she said, trying to convince her mind to go along with her body's desires.

But it just wouldn't stop thinking. About Aiden, of course, and what just happened.

"Fine!" she said, grabbing the blanket and flinging it down. Getting up, she found her phone.

"If I can't get any sleep, then guess what, pal, neither can you!" she muttered, quickly scrolling through her contacts.

It rang twice.

"Hello," Aiden said.

She'd expected him to sound groggy. You know, a little dry-voiced and annoyed at being awoken. However, Aiden sounded normal. Not at all like a person just jarred from sleep and trying not to sound like it.

"Did I wake you?" Gwen said, figuring it must just be the phone changing his voice. It annoyed her.
Sound tired, you jerk!
Gwen thought.

"No. I've been up for a few hours now," he said.

Gwen sat on the foot of her bed. She wasn't sure what to say. Could it be true? Could Aiden really be one of those awful morning people?
I can't be with a morning person,
she thought,
that's just insanity!

"So is there something going on?" Aiden said, and she realized that she'd been staring at the door to her closet, deep in thought on this morning person issue. Anything to avoid thinking about actually important things, apparently.

"Yeah, there is. There's no way I'm getting back to sleep now. Are you free today?" Gwen said.

"Actually, my schedule is pretty full..." he started.

That got her going. She stood up from the bed, pacing back and forth. "No! We need to talk. Something's happened..."

"Is everything okay? No one's hurt or sick? You're not sick, are you?" He said. And she actually detected some real concern in his voice.

"Yes, I'm fine. Look, just meet me, okay?"

He sighed. Had he been holding his breath? Hearing some genuine worry from him was nice, as weird as that sounded. And apparently all she needed to do to get a rise out of him was to imply something was wrong with her.

If that was the case, she thought she had more than enough ammo. Oh, what is wrong with me; let me count the ways!

"I'll come over to your apartment in..." she heard paper in the background as he checked something, "An hour. See you then..."

"No!" Gwen said. She didn't want him over here. She felt cooped up, alone. And hungry, her stomach added with another gurgle. Besides, after that visit to Henry's office, she needed a shower. "I'll see you at the Starbucks in... an hour and a half." That ought to be enough time to get ready. And maybe have a slice of peanut butter toast or something.

"Fine. I'll see you then," he said.

A little spark of triumph tickled at her. She'd managed to tell him what to do for once.
That's right
, she thought,
let's see how you like last minute plans.
She hoped he would have fun rushing about to try and be ready in time. But then another thought soured her victory. He could probably just run a comb through his hair, throw on a tailored suit, and be ready in fifteen minutes. He seemed like that sort of lucky jerk.

And that was really why she'd wanted that extra half hour. It took time to come out looking like a rich guy's girlfriend. Or her impression of it, at least. Though it also occurred to her that no one at Starbucks would know aside from them. This wasn't an interview or anything.

Okay, fine, I just want to look good, is that a crime? Gwen told that part of herself. It shot back with: For you, or for him?

She told that part of her to shut up.

Figuring the call was over, she started taking the phone away from her ear to hang up.

"And Gwen?" Aiden said.

"Yeah?"

"Take care. You sound a little... I don't know... Worried. Don't be. It's going to be fine."

Gwen smiled. "Thanks. See you in a bit!"

He paused, and she thought he was about to add something else. Then he hung up.

***

T
he Starbucks seemed farther away than she remembered. She shot out of the elevator, half a slice of hot toast dripping semi-liquid (but oh so delicious!) peanut butter all over the tiles.

It had taken her that hour and a half to get ready.
And now I'm going to be late!
Gwen thought, pushing out into the stream of pedestrians. She almost bowled over a short old man wearing a trilby, a pipe gritted between his teeth.

"Sorry!" Gwen said, bursting through the cloud of cherry-scented tobacco that surrounded him. Now I'm going to show up smelling like smoke!

The city had woken up, and was now in the full swing of the morning rush. The formerly quiet street rang with car horns and bicycle bells as crazy cycling deliverymen wended their way through the streams of people.

By the time Gwen got to the Starbucks, she knew what awaited her. A line. A long line that snaked its way out through the doors and out along the front of the building. She surveyed it quickly, not finding Aiden anywhere. That was good at least. She may be late, but at least she got there before him.

She stopped, gulping down deep breaths as she tried to figure out what to do now. Of course, there was really only one reasonable thing: call Aiden and tell him that she couldn't grab a seat at the Starbucks and to find someplace else they could get together. Like her apartment.

She took out her phone, which immediately started buzzing in her hand. Aiden's name flashed on the call display!

He knows!
Gwen thought.
But how could he possibly know; I haven't told him yet?
She added.

Composing herself, she tapped the screen. Gwen turned to face the street, watching the taxis jockey for position at the light as she covered her other ear with her hand to try and block out some of the noises.

"Aiden! Hi... Look, about Starbucks, I'm actually, uh, not in the mood. How about we just hit up a hotdog stand or something and then go back to my place?" Good save, she thought.

"I guess I'll just have them dump this vanilla latte out then."

"Come again?"

"Turn around," he said.

A prickling sensation crawling up and down her back, she turned around. Aiden sat at a table inside the Starbucks close to the window. He waved, then picked up what looked like a grande latte.

"So, I'll just dump this out. I don't think it could compete with... is that half a slice of toast?" he said.

"Toast? Oh! Man..." Gwen said. She'd tried to get here so fast that she'd forgotten about the remainder of her pre-breakfast. It was cold now, of course. The peanut butter had hardened into a sort of shell covering the bread and part of her hand.

Feeling absolutely mortified, Gwen ended the call, held up one finger to forestall the look of amusement threatening to spread across Aiden's face, and went over to a nearby trash bin to make a deposit.

Inside, Aiden handed her a few tissues for her to clean off the now sticky mess. Gwen sat down, but still couldn't speak.
Did that really just happen?
Gwen thought. She'd been so pleased at finally scoring a point in this little contest, and she had to go ruin it for herself by forgetting about a piece of slightly burnt bread!

She covered up her silence by drinking some of the latte. It was sweet. And hot. Too hot. She put her hand up to her mouth to keep from sputtering.

Real attractive, Gwen
, she kept thinking. But Aiden didn't say anything. He waited for her to finish choking down the ill-planned gulp of hot espresso and milk, then handed her another tissue.

"Thanks," she said.

"Not a problem. So... Why the emergency meeting?"

She started in, but stopped. There was something wrong. It was the middle of rush hour. Outside, that serpentine line snaked its way even farther along the sidewalk than earlier. There wasn't a square foot of space on the tiled floor of Starbucks not taken up by some yuppie waiting impatiently for their morning fix. And yet, here she sat—sat!—at a table with Aiden.