Page 71 of Pretender

So that’s what I do for the next few minutes while she returns her entire Michelin dinner and her riverside street food, until there’s only clear liquid left.

“I’ll get you water and a hair tie,” I say, and rush to the mini-bar for a bottle of water, and then quickly search the most obvious drawers in the bedroom for hair products. There are none to be found, so I remove the sash from the unused robe and use it to bind her long hair back in a ponytail.

“Thank you,” she croaks, accepting the bottle and leaning back against the wall next to the toilet. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Don’t think about that.”

She takes a large gulp of water.

“Small sips, Linnea,” I say, putting a hand on hers instinctively.

“Oh my god,” she says into her bottle. “Please get out.”

Her eyes are wide.

“Going.”

Just as I close the door to the living room section of our suite I hear her groaning and I wince on her behalf. Poor thing.

This is not how I pictured this evening going. Although this trip happened so fast, I hadn’t pictured anything at all. The best I can do now is to make sure she’s alright—drinking water, getting some electrolytes in.

The phone rings in her purse, vibrating angrily as if it’s been ringing for a long time. I pick it out of the bag and see the name Jamie on the screen and decide to answer it to make sure they know Linnea is okay.

“Linnea’s phone,” I say.

“Oh, who are you? Where’s Linnea?”

“I’m Linnea’s boyfriend, Aiden. You must be Jamie, as far as I can tell?”

“Boyfriend? Are you the Aiden she works for?”

So she hasn’t told them anything. Not even the fake story? I can only assume she didn’t want to lie to her friends. She said they live in New York, maybe they don’t have to be pulled into all this.

“Yes. It’s a long story, which I’m sure she’ll tell you when she gets a chance. She’s got a spot of food poisoning so she’s indisposed at the moment.”

“Oh god, poor thing.”

“Can I tell her you called?”

“Yes, please, let her know we’ll be coming to London in a couple of weeks. Sophie’s uncle died so we’ll come for his funeral and to visit. I suppose we’ll meet you too, then? Aiden Aurellan, right?”

“That’s correct. Sorry to hear about Sophie’s loss, please pass her my condolences. But I’m sure Linnea will be glad to hear you’re coming. She misses you a lot.” It doesn’t take a psychologist to read between the lines, despite Linnea’s well-composed face.

“Yeah, we’ve been worried about her.”

I pause.

“Because of Henry?” I ask. Or is there something I’ve missed?

“Yes. I’m sure she’s told you about him.” She sighs. “You better be a good one, Aiden.”

The sound of her voice as she says this, there’s such an emotion, a thickness in her throat, like she’s about to cry. It hits me right in the chest. Just how terrible was he? Is there more?

“She’s told me bits and pieces. But she’s reserved, you know. Doesn’t share everything right away.”

“Yeah…”

“And yes, I’m a good one, Jamie. I care for Linnea a lot.”