The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(61)

"What's up?" Gwen said, beginning to stuff the contents of her purse back into the bag. She left the loose pieces of gum and wrappers.

"Just on my way over, thought I'd give you some warning. Figured you'd appreciate it."

"Warning for what?" Gwen asked, a travel pack of Kleenex clutched in her other hand. This didn't sound good.

"To get ready to go out, duh!"

Gwen decided to name the pain in her neck Aiden, and the one in the small of her back Beatrice. It suited them. "You know I can't. I'm having a hard time with this paper, and then there's the midterm... And I know you can't possibly be finished with your schoolwork, either. Tonight's just not a good night, okay?"

"Gwen, I know for a fact that that paper you're going on about's not due for another week! Just be like everyone else and write it the night before. Or be like me and write it the morning of."

Gwen had to admit, it was nice to hear Beatrice's voice again. With everything that happened to her today, it felt like a week had passed since she'd last talked to her friend. And skipping out on schoolwork to get some drinks appealed to the procrastinator within. Also, bars had food, didn't they? A plate of fries or something would be nice...

No! Gwen thought, trying to nip that in the bud. Work now, play later.

"You're giving yourself the whole work now play later spiel in your head, aren't you?" Beatrice said.

"Remind me why we're friends again?" Gwen said, sitting down on her desk chair. Something sharp poked her in the butt, and she stood up to see that she'd sat down on her keys. Grumbling, she tossed those in her purse, sat down again, and rested her chin on her fist.

"Because I'm cool. Why else?" Beatrice said.

"And that's why I have a decent GPA, and you're in an on-again-off-again relationship with academic probation," Gwen replied, "You guys should really sit down and figure that one out."

"Sure thing. I'll go do that right after me and you are done at the bar tonight."

"No! Beatrice, I can't go. Really, I swear if you come knocking at my door you'll be out in the hall all night." Even Gwen could tell she didn't sound serious. Besides, Beatrice had a key, so it was a totally empty threat.

"Guess it's good that I didn't knock, then," Beatrice said. Her voice sounded strange. Doubled somehow. It was only then that Gwen caught saw her friend out of the corner of her eye, standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

"Oh, you!" Gwen said, hanging up the phone. The two of them hugged, which gave Gwen a nice snoutful of B's perfume. She liked to lay it on thick before hitting the bars.

"I really and truly do have to work on this paper," Gwen said.

But Beatrice had none of that. Gwen wasn't sure how her friend managed, but fifteen minutes later, the two of them climbed out of a cab. Gwen hadn't bothered to change out of her sundress, which saved time. She didn't think she had the energy to figure out a good bar outfit anyway.

The neon sign over the bar which occupied the bottom floor of the old brownstone spelled out DRINKZ. Yes, with a Z. A bunch of other neon signs advertised Bud and Coors and Jagermeister and all that.

And, since it was only midweek, there wasn't a line to get in. It was a pretty big place, with half a dozen pool tables strewn about, and a central bar that was an island in the middle of the floor. It wasn't too late yet, so the lights were still fairly bright and no one was on the dance floor.

As is the case with most bars, the mingled smells of beer, liquor, and too much cologne and perfume smacked Gwen in the face as they went in.

Maybe a couple dozen other people loitered about the place, clustered mostly in three groups sat at or standing around the tables. Only one of the pool tables was in use, and that by a guy wearing a trilby and sneakers.

The table closest to them had four guys sat at it. All college age or so. They gave Beatrice and Gwen a quick, unabashed once-over. The hunger pangs in Gwen's stomach reduced her ability to care much.

"Great place," Gwen said.

"Ooh, let's sit at the bar. They have half-priced shots tonight!" B replied, grabbing Gwen by the arm and dragging her over. They hopped up onto the barstools and a woman bartender showing far too much cleavage came over. Really, it was hard not to stare. It was no wonder the college guys were around.

"Shots! Vodka!" Beatrice said before the bartender could even open her mouth. Gwen's stomach churned. Hard liquor plus and empty stomach wasn't really an equation she wanted to solve at the moment.

"And a plate of fries," Gwen said.

The shots arrived first. B downed hers, and Gwen took a polite sip.

"So how're things?" B said.

Gwen shrugged, "Good, I guess."

"Still no action from your man then, I take it?"

At that, Gwen picked up her shot and downed the rest of the vodka. She grimaced as it burned down her throat and left a hot ball in her stomach. "None."

"Wow, he's really making you work for it, isn't he?"

"Seriously, B, it's still only been like a week since we started going out," Gwen said, rather defensively.

"Whoa, it was just a question. You need to loosen up... Hey, two more over here!" B said, tapping the bar when the bartender glanced over.