The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(98)

It wasn't until they pulled out onto a busier street that Aiden's plan came to fruition. Gwen kept watching behind them, staring hopelessly as the media vans jockeyed for position, drawing ever closer to Gwen and Aiden's taxi.

Then traffic stopped. Gridlock as usual. The formerly flowing river of taxis ground to a honking halt, dammed by a series of red lights all the way up to the boulevard.

"See?" Aiden said.

"A rush hour traffic jam was your plan? I'm going to nominate you for a Nobel prize, Einstein."

"Ye of little faith. Come on, let's go. Here, keep the change," Aiden said, passing a bill through the little pay drawer.

"What? Are you crazy?" Gwen said, watching wide-eyed as Aiden stepped out of the cab and onto the dotted line between this lane and the next.

"Afraid of getting hit by a parked car or something? Just come on out. Trust me."

She accepted his hand and found herself out on the road with him. The exhaust of hundreds of cars stung her eyes and left her throat scratchy.

Aiden led them forward, down the middle of the road, walking past all the cars. Drivers and passengers alike stopped honking momentarily to watch the crazy people lane splitting in the middle of rush hour.

And the funny thing was, it worked. The media vans blasted their horns and rode the bumpers of the taxis in front of them, but could come no closer.

When the reporters got out of their vehicles to follow on foot, they had to haul their expensive equipment with them, yelling at their cameramen to hurry it up.

But by then, Aiden and Gwen had reached the edge of the traffic jam, climbed into another taxi, and made their escape.

The media vans dwindled in the distance as their cab pulled away. Then the vans disappeared as they turned the corner.

"Did we lose them?" Gwen asked. It was a sentence she thought she'd never speak seriously in real life.

And sat next to her, calm, cool, and collected as Bond, Aiden nodded sagely. "For now, yeah. But they're not stupid; they probably managed to get number of this cab."

"Where you guys goin', anyway?" the driver broke in, glancing at them in the rear-view mirror. He'd been surprisingly calm and nonchalant when the two of them had sat down in his back seat even though he'd been waiting in the middle lane for the light to change. He wore an olive green knitted cap and spoke like he'd grown up over on Staten Island.

"Macy's," Aiden said. When Gwen shot him a questioning look, he responded, "I think a change of clothes is in order."

"Hey!" Gwen said, feeling defensive, "It's not like I knew I was going to be staying over at your place and would need some. Besides," she said, tugging at the neckline of her dress and sniffing it, "It's not bad. Just a few wrinkles..." she stopped when she saw Aiden's grin.

"That's not what I meant. We need to change clothes to keep the cameras off us. They know what we're wearing."

Gwen's cheeks burned. You weren't supposed to let the guy know that you might actually sweat sometimes, were you? "Oh," she replied, choosing to keep quiet to avoid embarrassing herself further.

"Everything's fine from this angle," the driver said, grinning when Gwen glared at him.

Macy's wasn't that far from Aiden's condo. Although, when Gwen really thought about it, Manhattan itself wasn't that big of a place anyway. It was the traffic that could make it take hours to get from one point to another.

When they finally arrived, the driver accepted Aiden's cash and said, "Don't you folks worry; I won't tell 'em where I dropped you off."

They went into Macy's quickly, Gwen looking up and down the street, expecting to see another clever paparazzo pop out of the scenery and begin snapping pictures.

As soon as they went in, a wall of mingled perfume smells slammed into them. Aiden rubbed at his eyes, while Gwen smiled. Department stores were great.

Still self-conscious about that embarrassing moment in the taxi, she accepted a sample spritz of some new celebrity scent being doled out by a model wearing too much eye liner. Gwen rubbed her wrists together, then touched her wrists to her neck.

"I think you smell great," Aiden said.

"Come on, let's get you out of those clothes, I always did want my own real, live Ken doll," Gwen said. The black suit really did remind her of James Bond. He was being all suave and charming, and oh so very pleased with himself for organizing this little adventure.

But he couldn't be allowed to have all the fun. When he frowned, she smiled. Gwen reminded herself that they were being followed, that they risked public humiliation and lampooning. Her sense of adventure clashed with that warning. She hadn't felt this exhilarated in, well, ever.

First stop was women's clothing. Aiden became her walking clothes rack while she piled on blouses, skirts, jeans, shorts, and other bits to try on. And, to her surprise, Aiden didn't tell her the old standby of, "Yeah, that looks good on you. Let's go," every time she came out of the stall wearing a different outfit. He actually considered each.

So finally, when she modeled a pair of fitted jeans and a nice white tee with a v-neck, he smiled and said, "That's it! Just leave it on, unless you plan on changing again in the street," It was probably the plainest outfit she'd chosen. But it was also the most classic. The fitted clothes showed off the feminine lines of her body, which Aiden made no secret of admiring. She preened beneath his hard-earned approval.