The Pretend Girlfriend (24 page)

Aiden could see the value of a dollar, but didn't believe that those who worked for the company, or those whose lives the company touched, should be considered somehow sacrificial for the company.

It was so funny how different ways of looking at the same thing (in this case, success) could change a person.

But Gwen also couldn't help feeling a little selfish. "And what about me? Why really bring me into all this?"

Aiden stood up. His hair was in disarray from running his fingers through it, like he'd just rolled out of bed. Gwen had to force herself to not think about how sexy he looked.

He went over to the bay window and picked a book at random from the shelf, pulling it out with his index finger. The window didn't offer a view of Central Park, like in Gwen's dream, but it did look out across the city.

"Image, really," Aiden said, "People perceive you differently if you're in a relationship. It makes you seem more normal, down to earth, all that. There's no way you could know this, but since it's gone public that you and I are together, donations to my charities have gone up nearly 20%."

"And nothing else? No other reasons?" Gwen said. She made him more money, which was all well and good. But that couldn't be all. She wouldn't accept that.

"What do you mean?" he said, flipping the book open and leafing through the pages, looking at it instead of her.

All this honesty, all these reveals, not to mention that kiss, and he still couldn't talk about his feelings! "You still can't say it? You still can't say how you really feel about me?"

Aiden set the book down on top of the others, too preoccupied to bother shoving it back into place. "Even if I do have feelings for you, Gwen, it's better for you if they stay hidden. It's..."

"Complicated, I know," Gwen finished.

Aiden sighed, then nodded. "Let's go get some dinner. I know this great little Italian place we could walk to."

Gwen didn't know how to feel, and her vaunted intuition wasn't much help, either. He'd opened up to her, true, but he still kept something back. That violated the No BS policy she'd outlined at the beginning of their conversation, but it seemed wrong to invoke it now. Sharing that information about his family hadn't been easy for him; didn't he deserve a little slack?

Despite the pangs in her stomach, Gwen said, "I'm not hungry, actually. I just want to go home and work on my paper."

"Of course. I'll call the car and we can head down..."

Gwen stood up. Her legs felt much better, much more under her control and not under the sway of Aiden's kisses. "No. I just want to go by myself, if that's okay." There was just so much to process, and Aiden got in the way of that.

"Yes, fine. I'll tell him to meet you out front. I should probably jump in the shower, anyway."

Shower? Why did he have to say that? Gwen thought as totally inappropriate images painted far too vivid pictures in her mind's eye. Still, she managed to force that stuff back down before she broke and demanded that he come back with her.
Think about the paper, and the midterm!
Gwen told herself.

He walked her to the door, and held it for her. "Well, this didn't go quite as I expected. But it was still nice. It feels good to share this with someone finally. Thanks for listening."

"Thanks for sharing," Gwen said. Dream fantasy aside, she still didn't know how to feel towards him right then. What else was he still holding back?

G
wen couldn't rekindle her earlier inspiration, no matter how hard she tried. She sat at her desk, watching the cursor (which once again mocked her) blink at the end of the sentence she'd started.

Dinner had come and gone without a single bite of food. Gwen didn't think about it. Thinking about dinner made her think about Aiden asking her to dinner, which in turn brought on thinking about what they'd talked about. And she still wasn't ready to go through all that.

The clock in the bottom right corner of her screen informed her it was coming up to nine in the PM. A quick and dirty bit of mental math told her that meant she'd been sitting at this desk for the better part of four hours. An ache in the small of her back attested to that, and the prickling in her numb thighs seconded it.

Jerking the mouse, she highlighted the work that she did complete in that time. Looking at the pitifully low number, she blew out her cheeks.

At her current rate of writing, she might be able to hand a complete essay in a week after the deadline. And that was if she didn't bother studying for the midterm.

"Oh, that's the stuff..." Gwen said as she stood up and stretched, feeling the blood flow back down into her legs. She ignored the cracking noise her back made.

Just like how the secret to falling asleep was trying to stay awake, apparently the key to keep thinking about something was to try and put it from your mind.

Gwen's train of thought went something along the lines of: "You need to work on this paper... but what about Aiden? Wow, this midterm came up so fast... does he like me? I'm not sure but I think he does... You're going to have to force myself to get through this essay... I wonder if Aiden will call me later?"

It was maddening. It was pathetic. It was infuriating. Gwen had never been so hung up on a guy before. She didn't understand how another person could so totally occupy her thoughts, pushing aside all reason, all the things she should be thinking about.

And the thought that really brought home to her just how much trouble she was in was wondering whether Aiden experienced the same inability to concentrate on anything but her. She hoped he did.

When her phone started ringing in her purse, she went crazy. She tore everything out of the bag—old packs of gum, Kleenex, her keys—searching for her cell. Several times, she felt the case brush against her finger, but the thing slipped out of her grip as though it were a living thing trying desperately to get away.

Finally, she just upended the whole thing onto her desk. Pieces of gum and bits of wrappers spread over her laptop's keyboard. Her phone struck the desk hard and spun, threatening to fall onto the floor and shatter into a billion unfixable pieces.

Gwen grabbed it just as it started to tumble off.

Trying to ignore the new mess in her already messy room, she looked at the screen. An involuntary disappointment panged in her chest when she saw that it was only Beatrice and not Aiden.

"Hey, B," she said.

"Hi babe!" B replied. Gwen couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard the sounds of traffic in the background from B's end of the line. How could the girl sound so chipper and upbeat all the time like this?

"What's up?" Gwen said, beginning to stuff the contents of her purse back into the bag. She left the loose pieces of gum and wrappers.

"Just on my way over, thought I'd give you some warning. Figured you'd appreciate it."

"Warning for what?" Gwen asked, a travel pack of Kleenex clutched in her other hand. This didn't sound good.

"To get ready to go out, duh!"

Gwen decided to name the pain in her neck Aiden, and the one in the small of her back Beatrice. It suited them. "You know I can't. I'm having a hard time with this paper, and then there's the midterm... And I know you can't possibly be finished with your schoolwork, either. Tonight's just not a good night, okay?"

"Gwen, I know for a fact that that paper you're going on about's not due for another week! Just be like everyone else and write it the night before. Or be like me and write it the morning of."

Gwen had to admit, it was nice to hear Beatrice's voice again. With everything that happened to her today, it felt like a week had passed since she'd last talked to her friend. And skipping out on schoolwork to get some drinks appealed to the procrastinator within. Also, bars had food, didn't they? A plate of fries or something would be nice...

No!
Gwen thought, trying to nip that in the bud.
Work now, play later.

"You're giving yourself the whole work now play later spiel in your head, aren't you?" Beatrice said.

"Remind me why we're friends again?" Gwen said, sitting down on her desk chair. Something sharp poked her in the butt, and she stood up to see that she'd sat down on her keys. Grumbling, she tossed those in her purse, sat down again, and rested her chin on her fist.

"Because I'm cool. Why else?" Beatrice said.

"And that's why I have a decent GPA, and you're in an on-again-off-again relationship with academic probation," Gwen replied, "You guys should really sit down and figure that one out."

"Sure thing. I'll go do that right after me and you are done at the bar tonight."

"No! Beatrice, I can't go. Really, I swear if you come knocking at my door you'll be out in the hall all night." Even Gwen could tell she didn't sound serious. Besides, Beatrice had a key, so it was a totally empty threat.

"Guess it's good that I didn't knock, then," Beatrice said. Her voice sounded strange. Doubled somehow. It was only then that Gwen caught saw her friend out of the corner of her eye, standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

"Oh, you!" Gwen said, hanging up the phone. The two of them hugged, which gave Gwen a nice snoutful of B's perfume. She liked to lay it on thick before hitting the bars.

"I really and truly do have to work on this paper," Gwen said.

But Beatrice had none of that. Gwen wasn't sure how her friend managed, but fifteen minutes later, the two of them climbed out of a cab. Gwen hadn't bothered to change out of her sundress, which saved time. She didn't think she had the energy to figure out a good bar outfit anyway.

The neon sign over the bar which occupied the bottom floor of the old brownstone spelled out DRINKZ. Yes, with a Z. A bunch of other neon signs advertised Bud and Coors and Jagermeister and all that.

And, since it was only midweek, there wasn't a line to get in. It was a pretty big place, with half a dozen pool tables strewn about, and a central bar that was an island in the middle of the floor. It wasn't too late yet, so the lights were still fairly bright and no one was on the dance floor.

As is the case with most bars, the mingled smells of beer, liquor, and too much cologne and perfume smacked Gwen in the face as they went in.

Maybe a couple dozen other people loitered about the place, clustered mostly in three groups sat at or standing around the tables. Only one of the pool tables was in use, and that by a guy wearing a trilby and sneakers.

The table closest to them had four guys sat at it. All college age or so. They gave Beatrice and Gwen a quick, unabashed once-over. The hunger pangs in Gwen's stomach reduced her ability to care much.

"Great place," Gwen said.

"Ooh, let's sit at the bar. They have half-priced shots tonight!" B replied, grabbing Gwen by the arm and dragging her over. They hopped up onto the barstools and a woman bartender showing far too much cleavage came over. Really, it was hard not to stare. It was no wonder the college guys were around.

"Shots! Vodka!" Beatrice said before the bartender could even open her mouth. Gwen's stomach churned. Hard liquor plus and empty stomach wasn't really an equation she wanted to solve at the moment.

"And a plate of fries," Gwen said.

The shots arrived first. B downed hers, and Gwen took a polite sip.

"So how're things?" B said.

Gwen shrugged, "Good, I guess."

"Still no action from your man then, I take it?"

At that, Gwen picked up her shot and downed the rest of the vodka. She grimaced as it burned down her throat and left a hot ball in her stomach. "None."

"Wow, he's really making you work for it, isn't he?"

"Seriously, B, it's still only been like a week since we started going out," Gwen said, rather defensively.

"Whoa, it was just a question. You need to loosen up... Hey, two more over here!" B said, tapping the bar when the bartender glanced over.

"Sorry," Gwen said, "I've just had a lot on my mind is all."

"I can tell. Actually, I wanted to ask you about that. How's the apartment hunt going?"

Gwen frowned. "What hunt?"

Beatrice watched the bartender pour the next shots before answering, "Well, you got your back rent all paid off, that's cool. But there's no way you can afford to stay in that apartment by yourself. So that means you've either got to find a new place, or get a new roommate to handle the other half of the rent. Which is it?"

That was unexpected. Gwen had just been so relieved to get those bills paid, and to come up with a good story for the money, that she hadn't really thought about it. These details just hadn't seemed so important.

And now she regretted coming up with that reward money story. Beatrice was right; what Gwen normally made really was just enough to cover her half of the expenses. Of course, the truth was that with what Aiden paid her she could easily afford to stay in that two-bedroom apartment all by herself.

If
, she thought,
I decide to keep going with all this.
But that, again, was a different point. And one she couldn't tell Beatrice without risking the contract. The vodka went to her head quickly, making her thoughts fuzzy.

"So... which is it?" Beatrice said.

"Well... the reward covered this month's rent, too. I guess I haven't really thought about it."

B shook her head and laughed, trying not to spill any of the vodka from the shot glass she held so daintily between thumb and index finger. "Right. And
I'm
the one in this duo whose on academic probation... Gwendolyn Agnes Browning..."

"That's not my middle name. And what? Probation again? I thought you just got out of it!" Gwen said, glad for the change of subject. She chose to ignore the little jab in the comment, too.

"Why do you think I'm here drinking?" Beatrice replied, throwing her head back as she downed that shot, too.

"Because you like to go to bars to drink and get hit on?"

"Well... yeah. But also the probation. Drink up; this stuff isn't free! And stop trying to change the subject! Really, what are you going to do about next month's rent?" Beatrice said, forcing the shot glass into Gwen's hand.