The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(103)

That was about all Gwen could make out through the heavy door. She barely recognized Aiden's voice. It was like listening to an adult talk on Peanuts.

But he was talking. And that meant Beatrice had answered. Gwen did a little victory dance, then went straight back to looking through the peephole.

No matter how many times she appealed to the ceiling, Aiden wouldn't turn around so that she could see his facial expressions and body language. The most she got was a few nods. He leaned back against the door at once point, filling her entire field of vision with the swirl of hair at the back of his head. She noted how it looked like he might get a cowlick if he didn't keep it cut nice and short.

The conversation dragged on. Gwen pressed her forehead against the door, thankful for the cool sensation against her skin.

This is cruel! How could he do this do me? As soon as he gets back in here, I'm going to...

Her heart lurched when he hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Quickly, Gwen jumped back from the door, nearly falling on the bed, so that he could open it. The lock clicked when he scanned his card, and he stepped back in.

He shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets and just looked at her.

"Well?" she said. He had that poker face on again, so it was impossible to tell the outcome of the conversation.

His inscrutable mask cracked, and he smiled. "She's on her way over."

"Oh my God! That's amazing. What did you tell her? How did you convince her?"


He shrugged. "I simply told her that you finally figured out a way to make things up with her."

"What?!"

***

"Relax, I think that's a great idea!" Aiden said.

Apparently, Beatrice had told him that she was over at the opposite side of the park from the NYLO hotel, and that it would probably take her a good fifteen to twenty minutes to get here.

Gwen spent the first five of those minutes tearing into Aiden for telling B that Gwen could fix this. She'd then spent the following five minutes alternating between pulling at her hair, staring down at Broadway, and pacing while trying to figure something out.

It was only in the eleventh hour that she actually did think of something that might (and by might, she meant just might) work. And then she'd scrawled said solution onto the hotel letter head on the desk, and put it into a hotel envelope with Beatrice's name on it.

She had to put the envelope down for fear of getting it damp with her sweaty palms.

It was an elegant (to use that word again), if somewhat embarrassing solution. She hoped B would accept it as the extended olive branch Gwen intended it to be. Otherwise, Beatrice might just take it and use it as additional fodder in her Mocking Gwen campaign.

Gwen couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive about it, though. To her, this secret meant a lot. It was one she'd meant to take with her to the grave. To Beatrice, maybe it was worth nothing.

Looking at the clock on the dresser, Gwen noted that it was now 21 minutes following the close of Aiden and Beatrice's phone conversation.

"She said 15 to 20, didn't she?" Gwen said.

Aiden massaged her shoulders, releasing knots of tension. "Relax. She'll be here. What did you write down, anyway?"

He kept shooting curious glances over at the envelope. She hadn't told him what she'd written on the paper inside. It was bad enough one person was going to find out. She couldn't have both her best friend and her boyfriend knowing this little tidbit.

Shrugging out of his grip, she rounded on him. "None of your business. Besides, how can you tell me you think it's a good idea if you don't even know what it is?"

"Because it's clear that you think it's a good idea. And I trust you."

And Aiden did it again. He disarmed her with those lovely eyes of his coupled with that philosopher's wit of his. "Shut up," she said, grinning.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Oh God, it's her!" Gwen said, jumping over the bed in a mad dash for the envelope. She knew that there was still time to tear it up and throw it into the garbage before anyone could learn the secret...

"Hello," Aiden said, "Won't you come in?"

"This had better be good," Beatrice said, coming inside. She eyed the hotel room as though a guillotine might slice down out of the ceiling onto her at any moment, or some creepy hand might shoot out from under the bed to grab at her ankle.

"I honestly couldn't tell you," Aiden replied, closing the door and leaning against it. He gave Gwen a look that said, "This is your show now."

"Because if it's an offer for a threesome, I'm outta here," B finished.

Aiden didn't know how to respond to that. He did his best to stare up at a cobweb undulating in the corner of the ceiling.

Gwen, however, leaned at a rather unbecoming and uncomfortable angle over the dresser, one hand on the letter, the other desperately trying to keep her from falling onto the waste basket.

Beatrice sighed a long-suffering sigh. "This had better be oh so good. You have no idea what you just pulled me away from."

Managing to right herself without falling over, Gwen gripped the envelope tightly with both hands. This was her last chance to keep the secret for good.

You're being childish, she thought. Just give B the envelope! Isn't her friendship worth more to you than what's written inside?