Page 131 of Pretender

Sure, he was talking to his investor friend, but he would’ve said something afterwards. Fuck, he must have been so preoccupied with that place, or his friend’s comment, that he didn’t pay attention the way he normally does.

I stand there on the side of the road, perplexed by my spiralling thoughts, when I spot the broad back of Aiden walking away from The Orion. Where is he going?

Without overthinking it, I follow.

Not knowing what to expect, my mind races. I watch him from a distance but keeping him in sight. He walks with purpose, and I struggle to keep up without jogging in my heels. Further down the street, he takes a right and enters a house. There’s no sign on the door or outside. What the fuck?

I stand outside staring at the door he just disappeared through. It’s unnerving that Aiden just walked into what looks like a regular house. Someone’s private residence.

Fuck, that makes my stomach hurt. I’m not sure I can breathe. No. No, he wouldn’t do that to me. Aiden would never. Wrapping my arms around myself in a hug, I decide: I’m going to stand here until he comes back out and get all the answers I need, I don’t care how long it takes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

forever

AIDEN

The email from Le Lounge has been burning a hole in my phone all day. Then Chase shows up out of the blue with his questions. And to top it off, Linnea surprises me here on this very night.

It’s a sign.

I have to deal with this right away.

Seeing her with that careful smile, as if she wasn’t sure she should be here, looking so fucking perfect in that new dress of hers, was the strongest reminder I could get. There’s no way I can go home with her without making sure I’ve done what I can to clear away my secret.

Le Lounge’s email says they require a face-to-face resignation with the general manager. And apparently I left my jacket there last time, which they had emailed me about but I’d missed.

I greet the night shift arriving at The Orion, and say my goodbyes before I head out.

Leaving The Orion now, and heading to Le Lounge, feels … wrong. But it’s the last time. It’s not like I’m going inside. Only to their lobby and wherever their office is to do this highly inconvenient in-person contract completion. It must be part of their hyper-vigilance, I suppose. Maybe I have to sign another kind of NDA. This better be a quick process so I can get back to Linnea.

Stepping inside what’s been a familiar space for so long, this dark hallway, hits differently this evening.

“Hello, Mr A,” Rita says. “Are you here for the event or the jacket you left behind?”

“Good evening, Rita, I’ll grab my jacket on the way out, but I’m actually here to see Ms Knight. Is she still in?”

“This way,” she says, showing me through a black door next to the cubbyholes, half of which are filled with velvet pouches already. She said there’s an event tonight. Another email I missed.

Ms Knight’s office has all black furniture—a painted wood desk, black Chesterfield couch on one side, dark wooden walls, and a massive, shimmering chandelier above it all, bathing everything in a soft light and small, moving reflections.

Rita gestures for me to sit in one of the two black velvet chairs across from the desk, and I choose the one closest to the door. As if I’ll need to escape at any point.

A grey-haired woman enters shortly after I’ve sat down. “Hello, Mr A,” she says, studying me across the rim of the glasses perched on her nose, giving me angry principal vibes. Although, the principal at my school in Cambridge did not wear a tight red dress with a cleavage like that. Thankfully.

“So you want to leave us.”

“I do.”

She sits down on her chair and stoops, opening a drawer below the desk. I crane my neck to see what she’s doing, but she returns with a folder that she pops onto the desk between us. They actually use a paper archive. I recall I signed a paper contract, but I assumed they’d scan it. Must be some privacy thing.

“This is your contract and your NDA. We asked you here in person because you will need to sign these again, here,” she says, pointing, flicking through the papers, “here, and here, to confirm you will pay the leaving fee, keep the NDA, and that you understand you will never be able to return.” She emphasises the last words.

“Okay… What, never?” Fuck, I shouldn’t care about that. Why did I even ask?

Ms Knight shakes her head once, peering at me over her glasses. “You must have found your forever, I presume.”

“I have,” I say, inserting all the confidence I have. It is forever. Linnea and I, we’re it.