The Pretend Fiancé: A Billionaire Love Story

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The Pretend Fiancé: A Billionaire Love Story Page 12

by Lucy Lambert


  "No. I know what I want to do today."

  "Well just give me fifteen minutes and I'll come with you," Aiden said, picking up the steaming mug and downing a final mouthful in preparation to go get ready as well. "What is it, anyway?"

  "I've decided to go scold my parents for their parts in yesterday's various debacles."

  "Excellent plan. Sort of. Do you really think you should?" Aiden said, pausing at the bottom of the staircase.

  "If they keep screwing up like that, then Judith wins. They need to know that this is not okay at all. Hey... What's that thing kids do sometimes to get away from their parents? Like a divorce?"

  Aiden frowned for a moment. "Emancipated. They get emancipated. You're going to threaten to legally disown them? Doesn't that only work if they're still your legal guardians?"

  "They don't know that," Gwen said, hoping the smile she pulled her lips into looked wicked enough.

  "Good plan. Like I said, give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready to join you..."

  "No!" she said with far more vigor than she intended. That frown returned to his face, and she raced to contain the damage. "I mean, no, you shouldn't. They're my parents, right? My responsibility. I can take care of this myself." It has nothing at all to do with the terrible guilt twisting in my stomach every time I look at you. Nothing at all.

  "Oh..." Aiden said, his shoulders sagging. That increased the twistiness of the guilt in her innards, which in turn cranked up her desire to get out of there. She rushed over to the table on which her purse sat, snatched it up, and headed for the door.

  "I'll be back soon, and then we can do something. I promise!" She pulled the door open, her freedom mere inches, a footstep even, away.

  "Gwen, wait!" Aiden said. His voice froze her into place. Gluing another smile to her lips, she peered back at him.

  "Yes?" she said, her heart pounding, every nerve screaming at her to get out of there right that second.

  "I love you. Hurry back," Aiden replied.

  The twisting in her gut turned into tearing. Tearing and rending and gnashing of teeth and all that bad stuff. "Love you, too." She slipped through the door. She was already part way to the elevators when it swung shut behind her.

  ***

  Aiden went back to his prematurely abandoned cup of coffee. He took another mouthful, not really paying attention to the bitterness or heat. For hotel coffee, it was pretty good (which it had better be, for the nightly rate he paid).

  He stared at the door through which Gwen had just disappeared beyond. More like rushed through like an escaped prisoner running for their one shot at freedom, he thought.

  Something was up. Something big. He'd tried sussing it out, but so far with no success. It wasn't about Catherine, he was fairly certain of that. Not with the way Gwen joked about it despite her apparent low mood.

  No, she'd been acting strangely ever since the engagement.

  The engagement, Aiden realized, setting the coffee down hard enough that some of the dark liquid splashed out over the side to form irregular puddles on the table.

  Was Gwen having second thoughts about marrying him? It sort of made sense, but it also didn't. If she was, then why go through all those lengths with Judith to keep the engagement together?

  Then again, there was a correlation between the engagement and the commencement of her weirdness.

  Oh God, Aiden thought, Did I ask her too soon? Did I rush her into this?

  If that was the case, then he knew he couldn't waste any more time just thinking about it. He had to go do something, to fix this before it spiraled into something even worse. He couldn't lose Gwen. Especially because of something he did. He refused to even entertain the thought.

  Prickling, cold panic spread out through his body starting in the center of his chest. Downing the rest of his coffee, he sprinted up the stairs, taking them two or three at a time, hauling himself up by the handrail.

  She's going to speak with her parents, he thought, I can find her there with them. We can talk and get this all sorted out before it gets any worse.

  Chapter 14

  Every step Gwen took down the hall towards her father's hotel room strengthened her resolve, weakening the guilt as anger and indignation took its place.

  Yes, this is the right thing to do. I need to do this, Gwen thought. It felt right, and productive, and it kept her from thinking about Ben.

  She rapped her knuckles against David's door. When he didn't answer in the first couple seconds, she knocked again. She kept knocking until David hauled the door open.

  "Gwen! What are you doing?"

  "We need to talk about what you did," Gwen said, pushing past him into the room. She'd spent far too much time having awkward conversations in doorways lately, and she intended to break that particular habit.

  "Oh, that, yeah..." David said, looking down at the floor. He let the door swing shut. Thankfully, he wore his normal clothes rather than a hotel housecoat.

  Good, Gwen thought, feel ashamed. You should be, after what you did.

  "Gwen, sweetie, let me start by saying that I really did not intend to let any of that happen..."

  "Well it did, whether you intended it to or not."

  "Right. Still, you have to know how difficult it is for your mother and me to be around each other when the divorce comes up. It doesn't excuse our behavior, but I feel that you need to remember to take that into account with how you must be judging us right now."

  Gwen paced around his room, walking up to the window and checking out the street view he had. She crossed her arms and glared at his reflection in the window.

  "I'll give you that one. But then you have to remember that you both agreed to help me out despite your differences. I mean, do you even remember what you said and did?"

  "Yes..." David said.

  "Really? What about... Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. You see how angry I am? I want mom here, too! Come on, we're going to get her and then we're going to have this out."

  She started for the door, but David caught her arm. "Please, Gwen, just wait a second. We do love you and we'd do anything for you, but you need to cut us some slack, too."

  "You signed the contract. You knew what you were doing!" Gwen said, pulling her arm from his grasp.

  "Yes, we did. But you signed it, too. And I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the pretend girlfriend thing back in New York. I think you need to step back and consider things before coming to tear our heads off."

  Gwen felt shocked. She couldn't believe that her father would choose to throw that in her face. Well, she had some ammunition of her own.

  "Fine, I should have told you about that sooner. But we're getting off topic here. You know what's on topic, though? You. You and a certain accented waitress you couldn't stop flirting with after getting a couple glasses of wine into you. Did you ever stop to think about how mom might feel about that? About doing that right in front of her?"

  Mention of her mother brought some now familiar wrinkles to her father's forehead. However, he also had the nerve to smile. "You do know that we are getting divorced, don't you? We're not getting back together, so I hope you're not going to try any of that Parent Trap stuff on us. We just don't feel that way about each other anymore."

  "I know," Gwen said, feeling a pout coming on and doing her best to stop it. She didn't want to regress to a little tantrum throwing girl. Well, no more than she already had, anyway.

  The epic verbal beat down that had been playing out in her head until she knocked on David's door didn't at all match the reality of the situation.

  "Do you?" he fixed her with a look she remembered well from childhood. The look that made her unable to keep any wrongdoings from him.

  "Yes."

  "Fine. I am sorry about the way I behaved, and I'm sure your mother is, too. But we are getting divorced. A couple more signatures and we will be, legally. And we might as well be, since to me that's just a formality at this point. We have our own lives, and you have
to remember that," David continued, his dad voice growing in strength with each lecturing sentence.

  No, this definitely was not going the way she wanted it to. So, in an effort to force some fantasy back into reality, she made another bid for control.

  "Yes, yes. Just remember that you did agree to help me. Now, let's go get mom."

  This time, when he tried to grab at her arm she caught his hand and hauled him out into the hallway. It was convenient that Barb's room was so close.

  "Honey, are you sure this is a good idea? You seem really upset about something, and I have a feeling it’s about more than the drunken antics of certain parents of yours. If you like, we can go grab some breakfast and talk about it. Just you and me, sweetie."

  It did sound tempting, Gwen admitted. But she knew it was a trap. A trap to get her sitting and calm her down. Couldn't he tell that she didn't want to be calm right now? That she needed this anger so that she wouldn't have to think about a certain Englishman's stubbly cheeks?

  "No," she said, dismissing his offer. Thinking about Ben had breathed some air on the fading embers of her anger, renewing the heat of it inside her stomach. She knocked with purpose on her mother's door.

  "Busy!" came the muffled response. There was another sound, too. One Gwen couldn't quite recognize.

  Gwen knocked again. "Mom! It's me. We need to talk!"

  The other noise stopped. Was she trying to pretend that she wasn't in? Because that was lame, even by lame mother standards. Gwen really wanted to lay into her. Maybe a few choice words about her inability to stand up without causing a scene.

  Gwen rapped her knuckles on the door again. "I'm not going away until we talk!"

  That sound she almost recognized came again. Then came the sound of footsteps padding towards the door.

  The deadbolt flew back. The door opened. A man peered down at her through the gap. A man wearing nothing but a bed sheet tied hastily around his waist.

  "Your mother is busy right now. Maybe you should come back in oh, say, half an hour? Is that long enough, babe?"

  The above-referenced babe, Gwen's mother, lay with her head at the foot of the bed. She'd pulled a sheet up to cover her nudity. Her hair stood out at funny angles like she'd been rolling around in bed, like certain fingers had been running through it.

  And was that sweat glistening on her skin?

  The man standing half naked in the doorway also looked rather sweaty and disheveled. Her eyes couldn't un-see it. Her mind couldn't un-think it.

  Gwen's stomach contracted, and she thanked herself for deciding to skip breakfast that day.

  "Mom! What are you doing? Who is this? You! What are you doing to my mother? Don't you know she's still a married woman? Well, legally, anyway. But still!" Gwen said, her eyes still trying to find a safe place to look but unable to find such a haven.

  Barb sat up in bed, carefully folding the bed sheet around her into a toga that still left one shoulder uncomfortably bare.

  "Come inside before you start a scene!" Barb said.

  She gave Barb a well-deserved eye roll. "Valuable advice. I wonder where it was yesterday?"

  "Oh, just come inside, will you?"

  The large, half naked man with the hairy chest moved out of the way to let them in. Hesitantly, Gwen entered, tugging David along. The door shut behind them, cutting them off.

  Gwen looked at the messy sheets, the pile of pillows in one corner. Her gag reflex kicked in again and she looked away. Only to be met by the sight of the large, hairy man smiling down at her. "God!" she said.

  "Guess again," the man replied, his grin spreading.

  "Oh, Stan! Stop that," Barb said. "Gwen, this is Stan, my boyfriend. He flew into town early this morning. Stan, this is Gwen, my daughter."

  "Nice to meet you," Stan said, holding out his hand. In doing so, he let go of a fold of the sheet, which began falling before he caught it.

  "Mom! How could you?" Gwen said. Her mind reeled until it decided to stop on an image of Judith grinning evilly.

  "How could I what? Get a boyfriend? I'm an adult, Gwenny, I'm allowed to go out with whoever I want."

  "But... But... What about helping me? What about the... Our deal?"

  "The contract? Oh, I told him about that," Barb said.

  "It's like you're in a movie!" Stan said.

  "You what?" Gwen said, followed by, "And will you two please put some clothes on?"

  "He's cool, Gwen. He understands completely. Don't you, Stan?" Barb said.

  "Completely. I think it's pretty cool, actually," Stan said.

  I'm through, Gwen thought, we're through. As soon as Judith finds out about all this that's it, game over. And they all had the audacity to smile about it, like it was all no big deal.

  "Dad?" Gwen said, hoping for some backup from that corner.

  It wasn't forthcoming. David shrugged. "I tried to tell you before: we each have our own lives now. Nice to see you again, Stan."

  "Dave," Stan replied in greeting.

  "You knew about him? Why doesn't anyone feel the need to share any of this with me?"

  Barb pulled a shirt and some pants out of her luggage and disappeared behind a section of wall, pulling them on quickly. "Because we knew you would probably react this way, Gwenny. Besides, you haven't exactly shared certain big details about your life with us. Certain contracts with certain people."

  "Mom!" Gwen said again. It was like she was 15 all over again, her mother embarrassing her in front of the guy bringing her to the dance. Except much worse.

  "Oh, stop sounding so indignant, baby," Barb said, reappearing clothed and moving to stand beside Stan, who draped a naked arm over her shoulder while she held him around the waist.

  Don't barf, Gwen implored her body, don't barf. Please don't barf.

  "You know, I think this is actually a good thing, you coming here. I was trying to figure out how to introduce you two. Problem solved!" Barb said. "By the way, what does bring you to this wing of the hotel?"

  David spoke up, "She's still upset with the restaurant incident."

  "Oh, that," Barb said, blushing at the memory.

  "Yes, that," Gwen said, clinging desperately to the last shreds of her anger. The embers kept threatening to be extinguished in vomit.

  "I'm so sorry I behaved that way, sweetie. I really shouldn't have drank so much. But that lovely waitress..."

  "Elsa," David spoke up again.

  "Elsa," Barb continued, "She just kept filling up my glass and the wine was so good. Really, Stan, you can't believe the wine this restaurant had! No wonder it was a five star place. Aiden picked the wine out. He’s good at that sort of thing."

  "Sounds great! Maybe I'll take you there, kitten," Stan said.

  Gwen could practically feel the green tinge to her skin. Kitten?

  "Can we stay on topic for thirty seconds, people?" Gwen said. Though she found that she'd lost the stomach for it. Now she just wanted to get out of there and go pretty much anywhere else.

  Barb and David looked at each other, then Gwen. "We are sorry. Next time we'll do better. We promise," Barb said.

  "What makes you think there is going to be a next time? Am I really the only one who sees just how bad this is? Judith is going to find out about all this and then that's it!"

  "Don't be so dire, sweetie," Barb said, "It's not so bad as that."

  Gwen opened her mouth for a quick retort, but a knock at the door cut her off. Being the closest, David went over and opened it.

  "Hi David, is Gwen in here with you? I thought I heard her voice."

  "Aiden?" Gwen said, squeezing through all the bodies in the room to see. Before she could keep him from coming inside, Aiden stepped in and the door shut again.

  Aiden didn't see anyone but her. He came right up to her and took her hands. "I know something's been going on, and we need to talk about it."

  He noticed Stan standing next to him then, still wearing nothing but that sheet. "Hello?" Aiden said.

  "Aiden, me
et Stan. My mother's boyfriend who she's kept secret from me for who knows how long. Stan, this is Aiden. My fiancé. I'm sure mom's told you all about him, too."

  "So you're the contract guy!" Stan said, again thrusting out his hand.

  Aiden accepted it hesitantly. "The contract guy?" he said to Gwen.

  "He's cool with it, apparently," Gwen said, glaring at her mother.

  David joined them in the cramped circle they'd formed in the entry to the room. "Wait, so you two need to talk? Is there a problem? Is something going on?"

  "It's nothing," Gwen said, even while Aiden said, "I think we need to talk."

  She felt trapped. Literally and figuratively. There was no way she could force her way to the door to run away from this again. Not with Aiden and her father standing between her and it. And she'd come to them precisely to get away from Aiden so that they wouldn't have to talk.

  And yet there he stood, looking at her expectantly. In fact, all of the people in the claustrophobic room watched her expectantly.

  She couldn't though, couldn't talk to him about what the trouble was. She wasn't ready.

  "Yes," Gwen said, "There is a problem. You did hear me when I said that Stan here is my mother's boyfriend? Well, what do you think Judith is going to think of that?"

  ***

  "Delicious! Truly," Judith said, a rare smile gracing her severe features. "Thank you for suggesting them."

  "My pleasure, madam," the butler said as he took the silver platter away. A few crusts of bread remained, as well as a sprinkling of crumbs.

  So few foods agreed with her nowadays that it was a rare treat when something did. Yes, she really did like this butler. Though she couldn't allow him to become too familiar, of course.

  "Now, please do me the favor of getting rid of yourself until I need you again."

  "As you wish," the butler replied, leaving the room with the dishes Judith used for her breakfast.

  When he left, Judith picked up a twice-folded piece of paper and read it over, smiling. It appeared that the Brownings had behaved exactly as she thought they would at her little supper.

  The waitress's written English wasn't the best, but it was serviceable. She smiled again at the description of the mother destroying the table.

 

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