Page 3 of Pretender

“So,” he starts, breaking the silence. “Was that Lady Venetia Beauchamp who just walked out of here?”

I finally allow myself to shift my gaze onto something else. Anything but his face.

“Yes,” I say to his hair. “You know her?”

“She’s close with my mother.”

Of course he’s acquainted with the aristocrat.

“Ah. Sorry, she asked for you, but I wasn’t aware you were in.”

Aiden shrugs and leans against the wall next to him. “Could I ask what you’re meeting about? Her husband is my contact regarding Aurellan Group.”

“Oh, nothing related to your company, I promise. I’m pivoting into residential, and she has a new house.”

And I’ll hopefully avoid ever working with Henry … and his new fiancée.

I don’t say that. I’ve already said too much. Sure, Aiden already knows most of what he could know about Henry and me after witnessing what he did on Halloween, but I’m not getting into it with him. He laughs everything off, so I doubt he’ll take my troubles seriously. I won’t waste my breath, or his billion-pound time.

“If you want to woo someone like Venetia, you should smile more.”

I squeeze the phone in my hands, glad it’s practically unbreakable, and lift the sides of my mouth. “Thank you for the advice.”

Of course that’s his solution to my problems. I rarely see him without a smile.

Like right now. His classic easy grin.

I want to ask what’s so fucking funny, but I know the answer.

Aiden finds everything amusing. And he seems incapable of having a conversation without making the other person ‘lighten up’, and it bothers me when I’m the recipient of it. Here I am, trying my best to be professional, but he makes it so difficult.

For two years, I’ve been his designer, and for two years, I’ve preferred to keep my distance from him. I can’t entirely put my finger on why, but after seeing how he flirts and laughs so easily with women, I didn’t want anyone to perceive me as equally gullible. Especially for the last eight months…

No. Not thinking about it.

I press my lips together and shake my head at myself, and a small huff coming from Aiden makes me look back up, but he’s just smirking away over there.

“The place is coming together.” He nods towards the stairs leading to the first floor. “It’s better than I could have imagined, as always.”

The remaining members of my team have been working up there for the last month, dedicated to implementing the design for one of Aiden’s extravagant events. This one is with his friend Mark’s gaming company. They’re presenting Mark’s new game as an augmented reality experience, and this, of course, requires a luxury immersive, Elven fantasy forest.

“Glad to hear you like it,” I say. “I do too.”

Aiden had a last-minute idea about trees lining the hallway, but it suited us well, as we’d finished the original design and had run out of work. I’d rather we had other clients to fill our days, but silver lining and all.

“I’m ready to kick off the work on the new nightclub, actually,” Aiden says, pushing off the wall and straightening the sleeves of his black shirt. “Keen to keep busy. Are you available to come check out the space tomorrow morning?”

I do my best to keep my face composed. Forcing down the cheer that wants to escape.

This couldn’t have come at a better time.

“It’s a bit short notice, sorry about that,” he adds. “The contractor called this afternoon, told me we can start on the ground floor and basement.”

My relief is palpable—if this project is big enough, it can keep my team afloat while I work on getting more clients.

But the relief is quickly overshadowed by the dread of relying so heavily on one person. I let myself depend on Henry for years, and look where that got me: a company so far in the red I was one drink away from getting on my knees, begging a rich lady for a chance.

Basically, I’m not in a position to say no.