Page 84 of Pretender

“You’re here!” Venetia calls, her step on the unstable side. “Please come meet some people.”

We walk with her to the corner of the large tent to the group chattering loudly over a standing table covered in empty glasses—likely the other half of the Lux tower.

“Everyone, this is Aiden and Linnea,” she calls, and we get a chorus of ‘hello’ and a couple of cheers. “Linnea.” Venetia touches my arm and gestures to a grey-haired woman in hot-pink glasses. “This is Gertrude Hansen, she’s Norwegian like yourself.”

“Danish,” Gertrude interjects, and raises her glass to me.

“Oh right, my apologies, that’s almost the same though, isn’t it?” Venetia asks but I’m certain this is one of those times you don’t actually answer the question because I’m not sure where to start on the cultural, linguistic, and historical differences between our two countries. “Anyway,” Venetia continues and gestures to Gertrude’s left. “This is Janice Worcester and her daughter Katrina, also known as Katrina Starre, isn’t that right?” The women nod as her name sinks in, making my stomach knot.

Wow, she’s stunning.

Long brown hair, slender face with big green eyes. No wonder Aiden took her out. What a sight. The unease in me swells when she smiles with perfect white teeth.

“Katrina says she’s acquainted with the What Happens in Mayfair blogger, isn’t that interesting? So be careful what you say around her,” Venetia singsongs, and resumes naming the people of the group. I should be paying attention but Aiden’s hand is all tense, and my focus is on him.

It’s not because of Katrina, is it?

I nod and smile to everyone, while squeezing Aiden’s hand, trying to make him relax.

Ugh, this is exactly what I can’t let happen to me. This is distracting. Aiden and I are fake, and I don’t, or I shouldn’t, care where his mind is and whether he’s uncomfortable around an ex.

I need to focus on my goal, which is to network with Venetia and her friends.

“Lovely to meet you all,” I say, letting go of Aiden as Venetia gestures for me to follow her.

“Come, darling,” she says. “I’ll introduce you to Gertrude properly. She’s just bought a renovation project in Clapham, and she needs your team if you can spare anyone.”

“That’s fantastic.” I turn back to Aiden to confirm it’s going well, but he’s already made his way to Janice and Katrina and he’s not looking at me.

Fuck, that really shouldn’t bother me as much as it does.

Focus.

I’m here for LEAF Design. For Olga, Daniel, Inez, and the rest.

Once Gertrude and I start talking, I forget about Aiden and my worries. She’s over the moon about my style and ecstatic to work with me and my team. She’s loud and funny—that delicious dry humour I relate to—and I catch myself grinning and chatting along without effort.

I’m doing this, just being me.

Venetia stays by my side and laughs along, and when I glance at her and she catches me, she smiles and winks, giving me a warm sense of pride in my gut. She seems pleased with the successful introduction she’s made.

After a long, entertaining conversation, I turn back to find my fake date, and to my relief he’s leaning on the side of the table with a glass of sparkling wine in his hand, his eyes fixed on me. There’s a small smile on his lips, and I beam at him, making his mouth grow wider.

My face falls when, in the corner of my eye, Henry and Harriet sidle up next to Katrina and her mother. I turn on instinct and my gaze meets Henry’s. He practically sneers at me.

“If you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to head out,” I say to Venetia and Gertrude, and I can tell Venetia has clocked the reason for my sudden need to depart. She gives me a nod and leans in to Gertrude, probably spilling the tea. At least she’s on my side.

“Shall we?” I ask Aiden, looping my arm through his.

“Linnea,” I hear Henry call out behind me, and this time it’s too loud for me to ignore without clearly being rude, and despite my loathing him, I don’t want a scene in front of Aiden again.

So I turn, bracing myself. But Aiden wraps an arm around my waist, gripping tightly, possessively, and some of the tension in me seems to melt away.

“Henry,” I say, inserting as much chill as I can. Everyone’s eyes are on us. Katrina and her mother, Gertrude, Venetia, and all those other people I can’t recall the names of (which I’ll scorn myself for later), but right now, I just need to keep my cool. My professional mask is on. He’s not going to make me cry in front of everyone.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

“Yes.”