The Pretend Girlfriend (23 page)

"It's silly," she said, wishing he would just drop it. His annoying insistence on knowing kept bringing back more details of that dream. And what was worse, her mind, in some ill-guided attempt to be helpful, began replacing the dream apartment in the fantasy with the real one!

"It's not silly," Aiden said, "If we're going to pull this off, we really should at least seem as though we're comfortable around each other. Okay... I'll go first. I can't stop stealing glances at you in that dress."

Instantly, Gwen felt self-conscious. She did a quick check, looking for stray threads, or anything that might not pass muster.

Aiden shook his head, once more grasping her confusion, "No, there's nothing wrong with it. Just the opposite, really. You look really good in it. Everyone at the track noticed, too. Liam, especially. I have to admit, it got my blood boiling a bit when I kept catching him checking you out."

That was news to her. Aiden was jealous! And wasn't there really only one good reason for a man to get jealous over a woman? You don't feel jealousy over somewhat you don't like.

"Why, Aiden, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you're feeling something for me beyond your obligations in the contract."

Gwen glanced down and saw how close their hands were on the couch cushions. Only a small move would be required for them to touch. She wondered if she should. Or if he thought the same thing.

Aiden didn't say anything for a few seconds. "You're trying to change the subject," he said finally, "It's your turn. Tell me how you thought of my place before you saw it in real life."

You're the one changing the subject, not me
, Gwen thought. A sensation of amused frustration bubbled up within her.
Why was he still bothering to play this game?
Any time she got close to making him admit some sort of real affection for her, he backed away, shut her down. And she could tell that he knew it, too.
How much more resistance could he possibly put up?

In any case, she would play along with his little game. "I dunno... Concrete floors, modern art. Lots of funny-shaped European furniture, that sort of thing."

Aiden glanced around the living room, taking in the black and white prints on the walls, the serviceable couch, the plain rectangular coffee table.

"Well then, maybe it's time for some renovations. I have had my eye on some abstract sculptures. And what do you think of a teardrop-shaped coffee table and a semi-circular couch?"

"I think that it's a good thing you didn't become an interior designer," Gwen said.

The place was different than she imagined, but it was also better. This just worked. All the pieces served a real purpose without also being garish or gaudy. The place felt welcoming rather than imposing. It was the sort of place you could actually call home, to retreat to after running the rat race all day at the office.

They shared a laugh. And, without either of them really realizing it, their hands slid closer until their fingers overlapped. Neither moved to take them away.

The moment of lighthearted fun changed, then. They looked at each other. Gwen's heart started slamming in her chest, and she swallowed heavily. Aiden looked into her eyes, and kept glancing down at her lips.

She scooted closer to him, their thighs touching now. This close, she could smell his aftershave.

"Gwen..." he said, his voice quiet and low. He still hadn't stopped holding her hand. He still kept glancing down at her lips.

But Gwen didn't reply. She knew that he knew what he wanted. Why didn't he just take it? It was his for the taking. And she could practically feel the desire pulsing deep inside him, trying to match the need she experienced.

Slowly, he lifted his other hand, letting it trail up her arm. Gooseflesh prickled in the paths traced by his fingertips. He touched her shoulder for a moment, at that spot where it met her neck. Then he lightly traced the outline of her jaw and her chin.

The lightness of the touch only magnified what Gwen felt. Her skin, her nerves picked up every little signal. Her body begged for more, begged for greater pressure, more contact. But he didn't stop the tender teasing of his fingers.

The pad of his thumb brushed her cheek, then moved closer to her lips. He traced those as well.

Gwen's eyelids began drifting shut. Aiden's thumb came to rest lightly on her chin. With a tiny amount of pressure, he parted her lips slightly. She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, could feel him leaning in closer.

Their lips touched so gently at first she barely felt it. His were moist and soft on hers. Her head tilted back, and she was lucky the couch cushion was right there to catch it. Aiden didn't let up, though. His fingers slipped into her hair, threading their way through. He made a fist, tugging lightly at the roots.

Her mouth opened more, their breaths mingling. Aiden tasted sweet.

Gwen's need nearly overpowered her with its sudden appearance. Her body ached for him, deep inside. This, too, was better than the dream. It was real. The fantasy couldn't live up to the reality.

She put her hand on his knee, feeling the heat of his body warming the khakis. Her hand started traveling up his thigh. Aiden's kisses became more insistent the farther her hand went.

The desire to touch and see and taste every last inch of his body overwhelmed her. Her hand moved faster, eager to reach its goal.

But then he stopped her, grabbing her wrist lightly. The kissing stopped, and he pulled back flushed and out of breath.

Gwen's body burned as all that frustrated energy sought release and couldn't find any. She slumped back against the couch, rubbing at her face.

"We shouldn't. We can't..." Aiden said. He stood up. She felt his weight lift off the couch.

"Why?" Gwen said, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm sorry," Aiden replied. He turned away from her, his arms crossed and his shoulders heaving.

"What was that, then? A pity kiss? I really am just another one of your charity cases, aren't I?" Gwen said. If her legs didn't feel like warm jelly, she would have gotten up and left right then. She couldn't go on like this anymore, with the constant mixed messages, the teasing, the fantasies and the unspoken feelings between them.

"No, you're not. I keep telling you that. Why won't you believe me?" Aiden said.

"Because I never know when you're telling the truth. You say one thing, but then behave as though the opposite were true. You pretend that this is just a business deal, but then you do something like this. I don't know who you are. I'm not even sure you know who you are."

That silenced him, at least for a moment. The quiet dragged on, and Gwen couldn't stand it.

"Can't you tell me why you're really doing this? What aren't you saying?" Gwen said.

Aiden started, "It's my father, Henry..."

Gwen threw up her hands, "Of course it is. Everything always comes back to him, doesn't it? Why do you let him have such power over you, Aiden? I know how angry he makes you, but you just never seem to do anything about it. Why? Tell me why... Or we're done. I'll leave right now and you'll never see me again, contract or no."

To illustrate her point, Gwen pushed herself up off the couch. She tried to do it with some dignity, but the loose rubber bands in her legs didn't care about that. She started to topple towards the coffee table.

Aiden saw, and caught her just in time. She beat her hands against his chest. "Stop it! Just let me go! Let go!" He did. Gwen started to sway again, and he reached out. She held up a warning finger and backed away. The heat of her anger and frustration soon burned away the slack in her muscles.

Aiden started to speak, but she interrupted him, "No more deflections, or saying something that means nothing. Don't tell me it's none of my concern, or that it doesn't matter. Give me a straight answer, for once. I'm a grown-up; I can handle it." Gwen crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly.

Aiden's shoulders slumped, but he nodded. He sat down on the couch again, then motioned for her to do the same. She didn't.

"Please just sit," he said.

She wasn't going to at first, but relented. Anger can only keep your back straight and your legs rigid for so long. It will give me a chance to get my strength back, she told herself.

"I will, but only because I want to. Not because you asked," she said.

Aiden knew better than to argue the point. She sat at the opposite end of the couch from him, leaning against the armrest. There was a gap almost the length of the center cushion between them.

She hated how comfortable the couch was, and wished then that he had some nice-looking but painful thing in its place. It's hard to stay angry when you're comfortable, she found.

"It's complicated," Aiden started.

"Everything's complicated. Life's complicated. Being complicated isn't an excuse. I'm sure I can understand, if you just give me the chance," Gwen said.

He waited another moment to see if she had finished her interruption, then continued, "You're right. It does come back to my father. But it's not just him. In the ride back here today, you mentioned my mother. She's part of it, too."

Gwen couldn't help herself. Anger makes you stupid. "What, does she also run a huge business? Maybe a rival to your father's, and now you have to choose between them?" It was funny how life could mimic a soap opera, she thought.

Aiden replied, "No. My mother died a long time ago, Gwen."

Embarrassment and guilt instantly drowned out the anger. Gwen wondered whether modern medicine had come up for a cure to foot-and-mouth disease yet. "I'm sorry..." she began. Aiden forestalled her with a raised hand.

"Don't worry about it. Like I said, it was a long time ago. I don't remember her at all."

"You must have been really young when it happened, then," Gwen said. She thought about how that must have been for him, growing up without a mother. That, in turn, made her feel so grateful and lucky that she grew up with both her parents alive and well, no matter how they thought of each other.

"Very," he said. He licked his lips and glanced around the apartment. This was hard for him. Gwen wanted to tel him it was okay, that he could stop now, but he barreled through.

"I killed her, actually..."

"That's ridiculous; you were just a baby!" Gwen said.

"Please, just let me finish... Yes, I was just a baby. There were complications during my birth. Henry couldn't be there. The doctor could only save one of us, and he picked me."

It was all so clear now. Maybe not all, she thought again, but at least in part.

"So Henry blames you for your mother's death. You feel guilty about it, and that's why you let him walk all over you, isn't it?"

Aiden stayed quiet. His eyes became glassy, and he rubbed at his chin. Gwen gave him his space. She wanted to scooch over and hug him, pull his cheek down to rest on her shoulder, but she didn't. Part of her knew she still felt angry at him.

Scraping together the strength, Aiden said, "He'd never admit it. He's never said anything about it at all, actually. In fact, I can't even remember hearing him say her name. But I know that's how he feels. I know that he's never forgiven me, and that I don't think he ever will."

"That's ridiculous," Gwen said, wanting to make him feel better, "Henry's a lot of things, but he's not stupid. He has to know it wasn't actually your fault, and that he shouldn't blame you."

"Maybe, but knowing something should be the case doesn't necessarily change how you feel. Emotions aren't rational."

Gwen could attest to that, anyway. If she had been a little more rational about this whole thing, she wasn't certain she'd be sitting there with him right now. If she'd been a little more rational, she probably would have accepted Henry's buy out and washed her hands of the whole affair.

However, that didn't mean she had to like it. "But still... are you sure? Haven't the two of you ever talked about it?"

Aiden ran his hands through his hair and let his head down slowly against the couch so that he stared at the ceiling. Though perhaps stared through the ceiling was a better choice of words. Gwen saw him as a man haunted by his past. A past he couldn't even remember. Unfortunately, Henry could remember.

"Yes," he said, "Sort of. It's difficult. Any time this comes up, Henry just throws himself even harder into Carbide Solutions. He pretty much founded the company to run away from his grief."

"To replace your mother, you mean," Gwen said.

Aiden just shrugged. It wasn't like him to not have some interesting tidbit of wisdom ready to go.

"So that's why you're doing all of this charity stuff? Trying to make the company look better? Has it replaced your mother for you, too?" Gwen said.

She found it touching, if also heartbreaking. It must have been awful for him, growing up with that ghost over his shoulder. And it was no wonder Henry was so protective of the company, if it represented his lost wife. And, in a way, rather protective of his son, who must also serve as a constant reminder of what, and who, he lost.

Gwen still didn’t like Henry Manning at all, but that didn't mean she couldn't have a bit of sympathy for him. If anger makes you stupid, then grief can drive you totally insane.

"I don't know. Maybe?" Aiden said, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm sure some psychologists would agree with you. To me, though, it's always felt to me like I owe him something. Something I can never pay off, but that I always need to try and do, for him, and for my mother."

"So that's why you're trying to improve the company's image, and the way it does business," Gwen said.

He nodded. "In part, yes. Also because I know there are better ways to run a business. Fairer, more equitable ways, but they tend to cut into the bottom line a little more."

Gwen wondered whether she should have majored in psychology. Aiden and Henry would have made a fascinating case study, she knew. The business represented so much to them both, and they were both trying to live up to those representations, although in different ways.

Henry, she figured, must believe that the more money the business makes, the better it is, without a real care for what went into creating that bottom line. Success could be measured in dollars earned, contracts gained, competitors crushed, that sort of thing.