The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(102)

That turned her onto a different tack. "Okay, so even though Carbide Solutions has been involved in multiple lawsuits, we can't find any corporate dirty laundry to use as leverage. What about personal stuff? I bet a guy like Henry is into some weird stuff."

Aiden frowned at her, shaking his head to show his misunderstanding.

"You know, weird stuff. Like Fifty Shades type-stuff." She waggled her eyebrows.

Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose. It was a gesture of frustration she'd come to call 'the Gwen.' And she loved bugging him enough to do it.

"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," she said.

"Unfortunately, yes. Continuing in this line of misfortune, I also have no idea about that sort of thing, either. Does it really seem like we're chummy enough with each other for him to share that sort of thing?" Aiden said.

The frustration really started getting to Gwen. Standing, crossing her arms tightly, she began pacing. "Well, he knew about the girlfriend contract right away apparently. He keeps tabs on you. I thought that maybe... you might also keep tabs on him."

Aiden flung up his hands. "In case you haven't noticed, I do my best to not be like him."

Gwen sighed and then leaned against the window frame. The last bit of light from dusk was beginning to fade, and the cars all drove with their headlights on.

From that vantage point, she got a good look at a bar on the other side of the street. It had a big neon sign that read COLD BEERS. Gwen snorted. What, not BEERZ? Wasn't that the style, to add a Z instead of an S?

That thought lead to recalling that night she and Beatrice had gotten into their fatal argument. In all the excitement over the past 24 hours, Gwen hadn't really spared any thoughts for her friend. The food in her stomach turned into a heavy ball, and now she regretted eating.

Yeah, B is probably out at a club right now, partying with a bunch of rich guys. Who knows, maybe Astor is throwing another party and she's on a mission to get five more numbers? B always seemed to know about these people.

"That's it!" Gwen said, the realization staggering her.

"What's it? Is something wrong?" Aiden said, starting from his chair to come help her.

She faced him, her body buzzing with giddy energy. "Can't you see? That's the answer!"

That earned her a quizzical raising of the eyebrows. Oh, she thought, I guess that was all in my head. So she relayed it to him, finishing with, "So if anyone knows someone who has something we can use on Henry, it's Beatrice!"

Cautiously optimistic, Aiden nodded. She could tell that he wasn't quite so enthusiastic as she about the prospect, however.

What, are my ideas not good enough or something?

"I thought that you and she haven't made up yet," Aiden supplied, noting her irritation.

That deflated her. She sat heavily on the foot of the bed. "Right, yeah, that whole thing."

Curious, she went and checked her phone. At first, her heart lurched in excitement. Plenty of missed calls. Lots of texts. However, said excitement curdled in her stomach when she read and listened. They were mostly from reporters wanting interviews, a few from old high school friends suddenly interested in her because of her notoriety. And the remainder were her mother and father begging her to call them back so that "we can talk about this." They both used the same phrase. Multiple times.

I'm going to have to change my number, Gwen thought. And my name. She had absolutely zero desire to hear whatever lecture her parents had ready for her. And, because they were separated, she'd experience the wonderful joy of hearing it twice.

And there was not a single thing from B. Not even a measly text congratulating her on her newfound infamy. And here Gwen had been half expecting a few wise remarks at being labeled an escort.

"Nothing," she said, "Do I think I should call her?"

"No," Aiden said.

"Gee, that's harsh," Gwen said.

"No, I mean you shouldn't. I should."

She cocked her head at him. "Come again for Gwen?"

"She called me to let me know you were in trouble. She might take my call."

"Oh! Yeah! Go on, do it."

He retrieved his phone, getting ready to call. Just before he did, she touched his arm. "Maybe don't tell her I'm here." He nodded, then started again. She pulled at his sleeve. "Maybe make something up. Just get her to come here right away." Another nod from Aiden. For a third time, she got his attention, "Ooh! Maybe you can get her here by telling her-"

Aiden shushed her. He actually shushed her, like an ornery old librarian. "I have it in hand, okay?"

He started again, looked suspiciously at Gwen, and then went out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him and holding the handle so that she couldn't follow him.

"Hey!" she said, looking at his distorted image through the old peephole.

She watched him put the phone to his ear. Her pulse pounded past her temples, and that salmon really wasn't sitting well in her stomach anymore. If this didn't work, she just didn't know what else they could try.

For the second time that day, she looked up at the ceiling in a desperate, silent request for help from on high.

Answer, B, Gwen thought as she watched through that fisheye lens. Just answer. Answer answer answer...

"..."