Page 31 of Pretender

“Hey, team,” I say, greeting them at the bottom of the stairs to the house, and I’m more aware of Aiden’s presence already, wondering if my employees have read the blog. If they have lost respect for me. Do I need to tell them? Oh God, it took all of five seconds for the relief to blend with anxiety. I just need to get to work now so I can take my mind off it all for a few hours. Today is the day for measurements, site surveys, and the first round of ideas; perfect busywork for a troubled mind.

“Hey, Linnea,” they say, and maybe I’m overthinking, but I swear Olga smirks as she looks between me and Aiden.

Deep breaths.

I’ll own this. This is for them. For Daniel’s kids who have put stickers all over the phone he’s currently photographing the building with. For Olga’s life here in England that’s put that smile on her face. I’ve watched her make friends, go on dates, and make this city her own. If she loses her visa … she’ll lose it all.

I nod once and wave them over when they catch me watching them.

“Let’s get to work.”

The usually rather chaotic first hours of a site review will go fast and suddenly I’ll be on a lunch ‘date’ with Aiden. Ugh, my stomach churns at the thought of the awkwardness. I’ll have to sit with my humiliating memories while I lean on him to help save my business. What the fuck have I got myself into?

CHAPTER NINE

it works

LINNEA

Hours pass without any comment. Once I went into designer mode, I forgot about the entire situation, so if any questioning glances or smirks have been shared, I’ve not noticed. It’s only now that it’s lunchtime and I’m about to leave with Aiden that Olga’s got that knowing expression on again. I decide to lean into it. Play the part. So I attempt something like a wink, probably more like a squint-blink, before I put my hand on Aiden’s arm. “Ready?”

Confusion flashes across his face, but then he breaks into a stunning smile and opens the door for me. “After you.”

His large hand brushes my lower back. Not a full touch, but enough that I can feel the heat of it through my high-waisted skirt. We’ve not even done a first fake date yet, and I’m already on high alert.

Ugh, I’ve seen pictures of Aiden with some of his dates. He’s quite tactile. I find touch highly personal, and he’s dishing out arm-pats and back-grazes like they mean nothing.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we descend onto Grafton Street.

“It’s best we head home to mine. I can make you something while we talk.”

“Home to yours?” I glance up at him. Why are my ears like chunks of lava stuck to my head?

“Yeah, I don’t want to risk being overheard around here. Mayfair is a small world.”

“Fair enough.”

He gestures for me to take a left, and we walk side by side. The street looks normal, the sky is still blue, but somehow everything feels different.

Tension crawls up my back, but if I keep reminding myself I’m helping him too, maybe I’ll make it through without freezing up entirely.

People often mistake my discomfort for coldness, and I let them—allowing a personal distance between me and them. But I will need to force that wall to break now. I’m not sure how I can pretend with Aiden and convince others about it without letting him in. And that’s terrifying.

Don’t think about it.

Not thinking about it.

“So you cook?” I ask, in need of a distraction, and I’m quite surprised by the fact as well. Every wealthy person I know has someone cooking for them. Hell, I’m not wealthy, but I work hard and I rarely have time to cook. I can’t imagine Aiden having much time between work, exercise, and his extravagant social life.

“Quick, simple things. Omelette with a salad. Does that work for you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Here we are,” he says, stopping in front of one of the red-bricked apartment buildings I walk past regularly.

The ride up in the lift is tense. For me, at least. But when I glance up at Aiden, he seems perfectly calm. A small smile plays on his lips, as usual. I take a deep breath, and in this small space his cologne is more obvious than before. It’s a warm scent, if that’s a thing. Spicy, almost. It’s familiar in a way. Maybe I’ve smelled it around The Orion and never attributed it to him until now.

The lift stops on the fourth floor, and Aiden gestures to the right.