The Worst Best Man(79)
“She’s the worst human being in the history of human beings. The world is lucky she has no ambition besides getting another husband because, if she had any kind of drive, she’d be the new Hitler.”
“How are you two friends?”
“We’re definitely, definitely not. My father and her father are business partners. I was in her first wedding to a cocaine-snorting, prostitute-buying gambling addict. They made a lovely couple.”
Frankie slumped against the wall. “Someone is telling the paparazzi what I’m eating for dinner. And hundreds of people are freaking out about it, including Hitler Junior. I’m not ready for this.”
Pru marched up to her and stabbed a finger in her shoulder. “You listen to me Franchesca Marie, you can and will handle this. You are the one person in this world who has the ability to be completely immune to this kind of attention. And if you can survive it, your prize is Aiden. So suck it up. You’re dating a guy who gives you an excuse to hang out with me and Chip in Manhattan on a Friday night. I’m not letting you make a mess of it.”
“Don’t tell me you were tired of schlepping to Brooklyn for cheap pizza and movies?” Frankie joked, but she felt the familiar unease return. It was another reminder that she didn’t belong in this world. At the end of the day, she was just a girl playing dress-up for the night.
Could she really survive keeping a foot in both worlds?
Chapter Forty-Two
“It’s still early,” Pru said, checking Chip’s watch.
There was nothing early about a dinner that wrapped at 11 p.m., Frankie thought, stifling a yawn. “Do you guys want coffee, or do you want to hit a club?” Chip offered.
Frankie slid her gaze to Aiden’s. “No thanks,” they said together.
“They’re going for Round Two,” Pru explained with a wink at Chip.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said, winking down at his wife.
“You know, I kind of miss the eyepatch,” Frankie mused to Chip.
Aiden texted his driver from the table to bring the car around and helped Frankie into her coat. The restaurant was much less crowded, but the crowd outside seemed bigger than before. The ma?tred whispered something in Aiden’s ear, and he frowned, nodded. Two gentlemen in suits appeared.
“What’s going on?” Frankie asked.
“There’s more paparazzi outside,” Aiden said, glaring through the glass. “Security is going to clear the way for us.”
“Clear the way? How the fuck many people are out there?” Frankie asked.
“Not that many,” he said dryly. “I’m not in a boy band.”
There were enough people milling about to Frankie’s way of thinking. Sure, Bieber would have caused a fan frenzy, but there were still two dozen curious passers-by and seven guys with cameras when they left the safety of the restaurant. Security barreled their way through the crowd forcing the cameras back as Aiden tucked her under his arm and guided her to the waiting limo.
She was blinded by the flashes but otherwise unscathed. And the second Aiden slid in behind her, the door closed, sealing them off from prying eyes.
“Why do you eat here if you get that kind of response?” she asked, flopping back against the head rest.
The back of the limo still smelled faintly of sweat and sex.
“They’re more interested in you and who you are to me,” Aiden told her.
“Well, they better prepare for disappointment,” Frankie shot back.
Aiden tugged her into his lap and reached inside her coat to hold her around the waist.
“It goes with the territory. Just like your mom slapping everyone. It’s one of those things we all have to tolerate.”
Frankie laughed and rested her head against his chest. She’d half expected him to jump her again the second they got in the car. But this was nice too. Very nice.
“You’re breathtaking, Franchesca.”
“Aide,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “I’m not trying to give you a compliment. I’m warning you. They’re going to find out who you are. They’re going to want to know everything about you and put it up for public consumption.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you’re mine.”
It was arrogant the way he stated it as fact. But damn it if she didn’t like hearing that claim just a little bit.
She opened her mouth.
“Don’t argue with me,” he warned her.
“It’s what I do best,” she teased, toying with the buttons of his shirt.
“Don’t argue about not belonging to me. I belong to you. I’m yours. All in, remember? It goes both ways.”
“All in,” Frankie murmured.
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Aiden’s building was in the middle of everything important. Only three blocks from his office, he could walk should he choose to brave the masses. Though after witnessing the attention he attracted, Frankie didn’t blame him for hiring a car. Not much fun feeling like a goldfish in a bowl on the commute to work. Where everyone else in the city was an anonymous stranger, Aiden’s face and name was known far and wide.
And now Frankie was stepping into that orbit. Willingly.
The lobby was guarded by a uniformed doorman and a smartly suited woman in black behind a sleek U-shaped workstation. “Good evening, Mr. Kilbourn,” she greeted him with a professional smile.