The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(69)
"You still want to go?"
"Of course! You thought all this made me forget, didn't you?" Aiden replied.
"Something along those lines, yeah," Gwen said.
Aiden straightened up, then held her hands together with his. They locked eyes. "I promise to take you on that trip when I've sorted all of this out."
A moment of tension followed, Gwen not sure whether she should break eye contact first. In fact, she had the opposite urge. It seemed like the perfect moment for another kiss. But she resisted, telling herself not to push too hard. She needed to help Aiden prepare for this impromptu press conference, not find out how he tasted.
So, giving him as mischievous a look as she could muster at the moment, she batted her eyes sweetly and said, "Really? Can I get that in writing?"
"You!" Aiden said, pulling his hands back even as he grinned. That broke the spell. Frustration twinged in Gwen's stomach. Forcing the feeling down, Gwen told herself that there would be plenty of time for other activities after the conference.
Both of them more confident, ready to face whatever came at them, they leaned back against the seat.
Gwen watched the streetlights flicker by and felt the hum of the car as the tires went over all the tiny imperfections in the asphalt. In spite of the situation, she actually felt good.
Henry wasn't going to win this one. If anything, it brought Gwen and Aiden even closer together than before. She couldn't be certain, but she thought that maybe they'd just reached the next level in their relationship.
She was wrong.
Chapter 22
Once Gwen and Aiden actually arrived at the Carbide Solutions building, Gwen's role became minimal.
The press conference happened in a large room dedicated to that purpose, with a raised dais at one end on which sat a podium, and rows and rows of theatre-style seating facing it.
It rather reminded Gwen of the White House press conference room always shown in the news and in probably hundreds of TV shows and movies. Except this one didn't have flags bearing the seal of the office of the president behind the speaker.
Gwen sat in a chair on the stage which rested against the wall. From that spot, she could watch Aiden address the room full of reporters as he took position at the podium.
Right away, a redhead in a pantsuit sitting in the front row stood and started asking him a question. Aiden silenced her with a raised hand and asked for people to hold their questions until the end of the conference.
For coming into this totally blindsided, with the only time to prepare being those precious few minutes in the car ride over, Aiden did well. Amazing well, really.
He spoke as though he'd had a speech ready to go, talking about corporate responsibility, the obligation to take care of employees and see that they were treated well.
The word "Family" came up a lot. The corporation was not just some soulless, faceless entity bent on extracting profit on the broken backs of its employees, as Aiden put it. No, they were all one large, intercultural, extended family. With obligations going both ways.
He expertly segued into the topic of his charities and corporate clean-up measures, talking about how he was sure that with just a little more support, Carbide Solutions could live up to its promise of becoming an ethical business.
Gwen wished that she could stand by his side. Well, almost, that is. She wanted to help him and comfort him and give him whatever strength he needed, but she also didn't want to be the target of all those cameras and microphones and questions. The recent past taught her that she and reporters didn't mix well.
Although, one thing did surprise her. Aiden kept glancing back her way, shooting a quick look over his shoulder as though to reassure himself that Gwen didn't take this opportunity to beat a hasty retreat and leave him to his own devices.
Each time she caught him doing it, she smiled and nodded. And each time he would turn back to the press as though recharged.
It was amazing how he changed when beheld by the lens of a camera. Rather than the reserved, self-conscious man he was in private, he became animated, confident in the extreme. Unwavering in his faith to the company.
It must take so much out of him, Gwen thought. About halfway through the conference, he started gripping the podium. At first, Gwen took it as a sign of his fervor and passion. But from the way he kept his knees locked, she realized it was to hold himself up.
From that point, she just wanted it to end. How could they do this to him? Demand he stand there for an hour talking about something that his father had done to sabotage him?
Was Henry watching this broadcast from some huge room filled with gaudy paintings and varnished bookcases? He probably was. There was probably a glass of expensive scotch or brandy clutched in his hand, which he swirled gently while a small, devilish smile curled only one corner of his mouth.
But then, mercifully, thankfully, the conference ended. Sweat glistened on the back of Aiden's neck, and his knuckles turned white with the effort of gripping that podium.
He'd apparently done such a great job that not a single reporter had an additional question for him. Not even the redhead in the pantsuit.
They filed out of the room, Aiden watching them as they went. A company aide came over to begin disconnecting the A/V equipment.
When Gwen checked her phone, she gasped. It was nearly midnight! Now that she saw that, she did feel a weary weight behind her eyes. Probably a combination of tiredness and the unrelenting glare of the fluorescent bulbs above her.