The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(18)
But Aiden was shrewd, and kept his silence.
Gwen accepted the check, tucking it away in her purse. The action broke the tension building in the air, and they both relaxed.
"Would you like me to pack those up for you?" Tabby said.
Gwen jerked, not having heard the waitress approach. The girl lived up to her name; quiet as a cat.
"That's okay, I think we're both finished," Aiden said, pulling out a billfold and thumbing through the paper. He put down more than double what Gwen figured the food cost and told Tabby to keep the change. The girl beamed at him. Gwen just looked out the window, trying to fight down the urge to tell the waitress off.
He's not actually my man, she thought.
Then something else occurred to her. She'd been so busy thinking about those all important restrictions that she hadn't thought to ask another important question. Turning back, she started to ask how long this whole thing was supposed to last, but Aiden had already left.
The bells above the door jingled, and she watched him from her seat. He rounded the corner. Shortly thereafter, he pulled out onto the street behind the wheel of Jaguar sedan painted a blue so dark it might as well have been black.
Gwen sighed, thinking that she should have asked for a ride.
And, despite the answer to her current problems sitting in her purse in the form of a check for $5000, Gwen didn't think her troubles were over.
Chapter 8
Another chance to put an end to the charade presented itself at the bank. She stood in the long line of people trying to get their bills paid after work for a good fifteen minutes, shuffling forward a few steps occasionally.
As usual, the tellers did their best to take as long as possible with each customer. What made it truly ironic was the Number 1 in Customer Service and Satisfaction in the Tri-State Area signs hanging about the lobby.
When she reached the front of the line, the people behind her grumbled when a teller at the far end leaned out and shouted "Next!" and she didn't go right away.
But Gwen ended up depositing the check, feeling once more like she'd just passed a Point of No Return sign. At this point, all she could really hope was that she didn't encounter one that read Dead End. She wished she could transfer the money to Patterson Holdings right away and get herself out of one mess at least, but the teller said the check would take a few days to clear.
From the bank, she got home without incident. She leaned back against her door when she finally got inside and closed her eyes. Those few hours she'd been out felt like a week for some reason, and her body ached from it. All the adrenaline and anxiety finally leaving her system, she guessed.
Though the anxiety didn't leave entirely. She wanted to just flop into bed, but knew that she had to be awake to get those legal papers from Aiden's courier. If she fell asleep and missed it, he might suspect she was taking him for a ride and cancel the check.
To help her stay awake, she made a pot of strong black tea. She was just pouring herself a cup when someone knocked on the door.
Figuring it was the courier, she answered. But instead of the courier, it was Beatrice. Her friend grinned at her. She kept one hand behind her back. "Hey! What's been going on? I've texted and called you like a dozen times. I was beginning to think you'd been kidnapped or something."
"Not exactly," Gwen said, "But thanks for checking in on me." She started to close the door. She felt too exhausted to deal with Beatrice's overabundant energy and cheer at the moment, and especially didn't want her around if that courier arrived with the papers.
"Look what I brought us!" Beatrice said, revealing the paper bag she'd been hiding. The sound of bottle clinking together was clear. "Smirnoff, baby! Just like back in first year. You got any orange juice or anything to mix it with? Oh well, straight's good, too. Gets you where you're going faster, ya know what I mean?"
"Thanks, B, but I'm really not feeling up to it tonight," Gwen said, still trying to close the door.
"Really? I think getting our drink on is the best thing to do tonight. Help keep your mind off Janice and the rent," Beatrice said, stopping the door from closing any farther by jamming her shoe against it.
Without really thinking, Gwen said, "That's all taken care of. Really, I'm tired..."
"What? What do you mean? Oh, you're not keeping this from me," Beatrice replied. She bulled her way past into the apartment, despite being shorter and lighter than Gwen.
"Why don't you come in?" Gwen muttered, sighing as she closed and locked the door. It was her own fault, really, she knew, letting that slip.
She found Beatrice in the kitchen, yanking open the cupboard where Gwen kept the glasses and pulling a few down. The bag contained two tall bottles of Smirnoff vodka with their red labels. One went right into the freezer, while she opened the other and poured them each a generous amount.
"I already made tea," Gwen said, nodding at the stainless kettle on the stove.
"Tea doesn't get you drunk," Beatrice said, dismissing it with a wave, and then forcing a glass with what had to be at least three shots worth of straight vodka into Gwen's hand. She clinked their glasses together and swallowed about a third of hers. Gwen took a polite sip, grimacing at the taste. She never drank liquor or spirits straight. Not since, as Beatrice mentioned, first year of college.