The Pretend Girlfriend (34 page)

"Your secret's safe with me," Gwen said, "Now move. It's my turn!"

Gleefully, she inserted the remainder of her share. The shredder chewed up that wad of paper as easily as it had a single sheet. Following suit, Aiden disposed of the remaining two he held.

Gwen experienced a tinge of sadness at not having any more paper to shred, and almost regretted sharing some with Aiden. "What now?" she asked.

"Well..." Aiden replied, turning the machine around and hitting a latch that allowed him to remove the bin from the shredder, "Now we make it snow!" He grabbed a handful of the shredded contract and threw it up into the air. The little squares of paper landed on their shoulders, in their hair, floated down to the floor.

Gwen grabbed a handful. It rustled in her fist. Rather than tossing the wad straight up, she flung it at Aiden. The ball burst against his chest, leaving him bewildered. Gwen laughed at his expression.

"So that's how you want to play, is it?" he said.

She replied by sticking her tongue out at him. So he reached into the bin, grabbed a handful, and threw it at her.

A confetti fight ensued, carpeting them both in thousands of those little squares, and leaving an utter mess on the floor. At one point, Aiden just grabbed the bin and upended it over Gwen's head, leaving her shrieking as the paper leavings piled high on her shoulders.

They finished, exhausted from laughter, sinking into the old chairs. Gwen's cheeks ached from smiling, and her throat felt a little raw. Aiden leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, looking totally relaxed. He reached one hand out across the table, and she took it.

"Thanks," Gwen said, "I really needed that."

"We both did," Aiden agreed.

And then, to her surprise, Aiden stooped down on the floor and started collecting all the confetti, dumping it back into the bin. "We can't leave a mess," he said when he saw her look, "That wouldn't be nice."

She moved to help him, starting an avalanche of the paper squares from their piles on her shoulders. Within a few minutes, they had most of the mess cleaned up.

A couple squares had lodged themselves pretty nicely in Aiden's hair, escaping his attention. Gwen debated whether or not to tell him, since it was so adorable. When he went to put the bin back in the shredder, she picked them off his head.

"Now, why don't you head on up and I'll meet you in a few minutes? I'm going to bring this back and hope she doesn't call the cops. One police beating per day is enough for me," Aiden said, leaving her with a kiss.

Back upstairs, she and Aiden took their party to the couch. The lighthearted tone continued for a bit, but Gwen felt a growing concern that she needed to voice.

"What do you think he's going to do now?" Gwen said.

Aiden took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Henry, you mean? Something bad, likely."

That sent an unpleasant shiver down her back. She liked the symbolism of shredding the contract, but Henry Manning was tenacious. He wasn't going to stop. And that felt all the worse now that she and Aiden had really started a genuine relationship.

"Do you think we can take it?" she asked. Thinking about Henry and whatever his next scheme was opened the floodgates to all sorts of negative thoughts. Like how she still hadn't patched things up with Beatrice.

"I do and we can," Aiden said, "And do you want to know why?"

This is so corny
, Gwen thought, her inner middle-schooler coming out.
I love it!
"Why?"

"Because, Gwen Browning, I think I've fallen for you. Hard."

W
hen Gwen first proposed the screening, she meant just the two of them in her living room watching her old TV.

But Aiden took the idea and ran with it, which, given his reserved nature, was pretty shocking.

"You've really never seen this before?" Gwen said. They both leaned a little to the left as the Town Car made a turn. Through the windows, Gwen could see the tall buildings of downtown Manhattan rising to impossible heights around them.

The Town Car was an island of black in a sea of yellow. The sound proofing kept the honks and shouts and the shriek of tires to a minimum. Gwen was just happy she wasn't the one driving.

"No. Why is that so surprising?" Aiden said. When he saw her nerves from the traffic, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It's just... I thought it was just one of those things everyone saw," Gwen replied.

Aiden gave her a sage nod, and said, "Well, soon enough I'll be able to say, definitively, that I have in fact seen
When Harry Met Sally
."

And they were seeing it in style. It was amazing what some decent press contacts and money could get you. The traffic got a little worse as the big car nosed onto an older street lined with brownstones. They had to be close to that theater by now.

"This is the one that you and Beatrice debate over, isn't it?" Aiden said.

That touched a nerve. B would have loved to see this movie on the big screen. Of course, just about any screen was large compared to the one in her living room.

It hurt that she couldn't share this with her closest friend.

"Do you think I should call her again?" Gwen said, pushing a hand into her purse, her fingertips brushing against the cool, smooth cell phone case.

"I could speak with her, if you like. Maybe if I explain things to her..." Aiden started, but Gwen cut him off.

"No, I really think it has to be me. I'm the one who needs to apologize... if only I could figure out how. She called you when I went to see Henry... That means she still cares, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it must," he said, putting an arm over her shoulders and pulling her closer. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, smelled the clean scent of his aftershave. For a few moments, she fought with herself. It would be so easy to just sink into him, to just fall into her senses and enjoy being so close. But she also really wanted to get in touch with her friend.

It was nice that Aiden offered to help her out, but Gwen could just tell that she needed to do this herself. If only Beatrice would take a call, that is, Gwen thought while she listened to her call go straight to voicemail for the umpteenth time.

"Nothing?" Aiden said, a concerned frown creasing his forehead. She loved the little wrinkle that formed between his eyes.

"Nada... and stop frowning like that! You'll give yourself wrinkles!"

Secretly, she loved the thought of spending enough time with him to watch those wrinkles develop, to watch the way they both changed and grew together over the years.

And that was a nice thought, if a somewhat new one. This whole thing with the contract made their relationship seem short-term, able to end at a moment's notice. Ever since they'd decided to become a real couple, Gwen had let herself begin to wonder if Aiden could be Him. With a capital H. The guy she spent the rest of her life with.

Aiden sucked in a breath through his teeth, then let out a sigh, "I guess it's good I can afford Botox, I suppose." Then he poked her in the side, right below the ribs, where she was most ticklish.

She regretted telling him about that spot. Well, almost regretted it. They laughed while she struggled against the seatbelt and swatted at his hands.

The driver, a long-suffering soul, pretended not to notice the tussle in the backseat.

The tickle fight devolved into a make out session, each of them holding the other. It was hard to kiss when you were out of breath, Gwen noted. Her burning lungs demanded that she unlock her lips from his and take a few deep breaths, but every other nerve in her body kept telling her to keep going, saying things like how romantic it would be to faint from kissing.

It felt so good that Gwen wondered just how far they could go in the back of this big car. The windows are tinted, a devilish voice mentioned.

And Aiden, for supposedly being in such great shape, panted for breath when they finally did part. He tugged at the knot of his already loose tie, a flush of heat rising up his neck.

Regaining some of his composure, he said, "She probably just needs time and space. You're right: she did call me to go help you, and yes, in my professional opinion, that does mean she still cares. Just wait."

Gwen didn't like the sound of that, but it made sense. It just conflicted with her desire to get this fixed up right now. Yesterday, if possible. Patience was in short supply.

"You're right..." she started.

"Of course I am," Aiden broke in, giving her a full-wattage grin.

That earned him a poke to the hip, his most ticklish spot. That threatened to turn into another pitched tickle battle until the driver gave a polite clearing of the throat from the front seat.

"We've arrived, sir," the driver said.

They quickly sorted themselves out, Aiden pulling the knot of his tie tight while Gwen tugged her dress back into place. It wouldn't do to step out and be seen all disheveled. This was a charity event, after all.

The driver opened their door, Aiden stepping out first and offering his hand to her so that she could follow.

A somewhat narrow red carpet greeted them, leading up to the front entrance of an old movie theater. It had one of those old marquees that jutted out over the sidewalk in a huge white triangle so that pedestrians walking in either direction could read it.

Gwen's heart fluttered a little when she craned her neck so she could see the title of the movie spelled out in those big blocky letters.

A bored-looking man sat in the glass booth between the doors, waiting for the flood of rich people to come and pay some outrageous price for tickets.

There were no cameras or reporters here, thankfully. Aiden had thrown it together so fast that Gwen doubted anyone in the press knew about it yet. No, he'd just had his assistant get a hold of many of the regulars who attended his other events.

More black cars, Town Cars and limos and whatnot, started coming down the street.

"We're the first ones here," Gwen said.

"Looks like it," Aiden replied, urging her towards the booth.

While it was extremely cool that Aiden did this, she kind of wished they were back at her apartment. Watching the movie at home made it so much easier to talk, for one. She could pause the DVD player if things got particularly heated. She doubted the projectionist would put a stop to the show if she thought of something to say.

Whenever she and Beatrice watched it, they always ended up in a huge debate. Said debate was usually fuelled at least in part by alcohol, and it didn't look like this place had a liquor license.

"Two please..." Aiden said when they got to the booth.

Again, Gwen wished B could be there with them. She got so lost in thought that she didn't even hear how much the tickets were.

It's okay, she thought, there are lots of good things about seeing it here, too. Like sitting in a dark theater with her boyfriend. Was this the kind of show where they could kiss? Or would the other rich people notice and sneer or something? And there was always popcorn. Delicious, salty popcorn.

But then she thought twice about it. Would there be popcorn? Everyone was dressed all nicely, so maybe not.

Her initial elation at the big-screen showing wore off, and Gwen wondered if Aiden would take her home if she asked. He would, she knew. But that brought the guilt on. What would that be saying? He put this all together, and now she didn't want it anymore?

"Is everything okay?" Aiden asked, putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her away from the ticket booth. He held two silver tickets in his other hand.

"Yeah, fine. This is great. Really awesome," she said, hoping he bought her false enthusiasm.

The next car pulled up to the curb. Gwen glanced at the occupants as they climbed out. Then she did a double take.

"What?" Aiden said, noticing her expression and following her line of sight. "Oh," he finished.

It was Liam, the rude guy from the race. And hanging from his arm, Beatrice. She smiled when she saw Gwen.

Gwen broke away from Aiden and started towards her friend. She didn't know how Beatrice found out about this, and didn't care. It only mattered that she was here.

"B! This is amazing! I was just thinking about how much you would have loved to be here," Gwen said.

"That's nice," B replied. Then she turned back to Liam and whispered something in his ear and they both smiled at some inside joke. It was like B didn't even recognize her.

For a second, Gwen thought she'd made a mistake. But it was definitely Beatrice. In a nice salmon-colored dress and wearing a thin golden necklace that accented her neck. Her hair was up, too. But it was definitely her.

Aiden came up beside her. "Liam, nice to see you. Your patronage is always welcomed." The tone of his voice made it clear that he meant the opposite.

"Wouldn't miss it!" Liam said. He slapped Aiden's shoulder and grinned.

More and more cars started pulling up, disgorging men in tailored suits and women in various designer dresses and skirts and shoes. Pretty soon that bored-looking guy manning the ticket booth turned into the frazzled guy manning the booth as he accepted checks and envelopes and handed back silver tickets.

People started coming up to Aiden and speaking to him, telling him what a great idea this was and whatnot. The tide of humanity pulled him away from her, and a little island of space existed around Gwen and Beatrice as though the people could feel the tension around them and steered clear.

"What's going on, B? Why are you here?" Gwen said.

Clearly the wrong questions.

Beatrice's eyebrows climbed up her forehead, "What? Am I not allowed here? I didn't sign a contract with Liam, so that means I'm not good enough or something?"

That stung, and Gwen bit her lip. She didn't want to make things even worse.
B feels betrayed by me
, Gwen thought. The mention of the contract also sent her peering around at the crowd, checking if anyone listened in. That would be the last thing she and Aiden needed.

Showing her palms, Gwen said, "No, no. Of course you're allowed here and that you're good enough..."