The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(76)

The secretary sounded none-too-pleased, "Be sure that you arrive sooner rather than later. Mr. Manning has also authorized me to send a car to pick you up."

"Don't bother," Gwen said.

The secretary hung up. Gwen let her phone drop down on the couch.

"Well, I guess this is it," she said to no one. It felt like goodbye to her.





Chapter 24


The waiting room adjacent to the office of Henry Manning looked even larger and more imposing than she remembered it. A somewhat strange sensation, she thought, given that the mind usually exaggerated things.

Though it could have just been an expression of her mood. Despite there being no one else in the room, the secretary had told her to take a seat. So she'd sat down on one of a pair of wingback chairs flanking a teardrop-shaped coffee table.

The chair had looked comfortable, but seemed designed to achieve the opposite effect. She kept shifting, but no matter how she sat, something prodded her, or felt too hard or too soft.

And of course there weren't any magazines or newspapers to be found anywhere. Probably too plebeian or bourgeois or something like that.

Feeling like a kid sent to study hall for detention, the secretary being the shrewish, draconian vice principal in charge of discipline, Gwen surreptitiously took out her phone, crossing her legs and hiding it behind her thigh. No calls, no messages, no emails. Even Facebook was dead. Given the hour, that wasn't surprising. She kind of wished at least one of her parents understood texting. She felt so isolated and alone, and she didn't think the secretary was up for some small talk.

She even got to the point where she wished she'd brought her laptop or some of the books so that she could get some school work done.

This is all just some tactic of Henry's to give him the upper hand, Gwen thought. Everything that man did was to secure some advantage for himself. The mean secretary, the imposing waiting room with its lack of any sort of distraction, both ways to create and amplify weaknesses in his opponents.

And it was also clearly a way to get back at Gwen for making Henry wait for her to be ready.

Gwen reached the point where she questioned the reasoning of her coming down in person to get this done. Surely an email or a telephone call would have sufficed? Maybe, she thought, one or the other still would.

Yes, I'll just get up, go home, and write him an email and attach an electronic signature or something. That sounds like a plan.

Relieved to get out of there, Gwen stood and started heading for the door.

"Miss Browning?" the secretary said, her emotionless, robotic voice freezing Gwen in place, "Mr. Manning will see you now."

"Oh..." Gwen said, shooting the doors out of there a desperate glance, wondering if she could still get out of there, "Fine. Okay. I will just, um, go and see him then, I guess."

The secretary's lips tightened in a polite, fake smile even as her eyebrows lifted lightly as though to say, "Sure. Nice job trying to get away."

When Gwen entered Henry's office, she again both felt and saw the way the ceiling climbed to its incredible height. The atmosphere in the place crackled, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Henry sat at his desk, his fingers steepled. He looked so smug. And, Gwen knew, he had reason to. He thinks he's won, she thought.

"Miss Browning. Gwen, right?" Henry said.

Gwen started to balk, but reminded herself that Henry liked to play games. Of course he knew her name. He knew just about everything about it, even made it his business to do so. This was just some potshot to throw her off kilter.

She could play that, too. "Yes, Bob, you're right."

If getting his name wrong had any effect, Henry didn't show it. The small, closed-lip smile didn't waver.

Gwen walked over to stand in front of his desk, her footfalls echoing off that high ceiling. When she arrived, Henry didn't ask her to sit down, despite there being an available chair across from him. Nor did Henry stand up.

"So you've finally come to your senses about this charade, I see," he said, sliding a leather-bound folder across to her. "It's a pity you weren't smart enough to do it when it could have made you some money."

"I wouldn't take your money anyway," Gwen replied, flipping the folder open and scanning through the pages. It was an agreement not to discuss the contract with anyone, as well as to cease any current and future contact with Aiden or the corporation.


"But you already have. I own this corporation; Aiden gets paid by this corporation... I'm sure you can see my reasoning. In any case, that is beside the point."

Gwen found herself wishing Aiden were standing beside her, helping her face this man down. But that desire ran opposite to her goal, so she tried pushing it down.

"If I may ask, exactly what caused you to come to your senses? Was it that emergency conference?" Henry said. He took the same pen as he'd offered her before from his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the desk beside the opened folder. Gwen made no move to pick it up.

"It was Aiden," Gwen said.

"So he's come to his senses, too, I take it? I can't say I'm surprised, given the material he chose to work with," Henry said, using a quick, appraising glance at Gwen to communicate what he personally thought of the quality of the "material."

Gwen ignored the jab, instead forcing a smile onto her face as though his words just rolled off her back. "I'm only signing this on one condition."