Cautiously optimistic, Aiden nodded. She could tell that he wasn't quite so enthusiastic as she about the prospect, however.
What, are my ideas not good enough or something?
"I thought that you and she haven't made up yet," Aiden supplied, noting her irritation.
That deflated her. She sat heavily on the foot of the bed. "Right, yeah, that whole thing."
Curious, she went and checked her phone. At first, her heart lurched in excitement. Plenty of missed calls. Lots of texts. However, said excitement curdled in her stomach when she read and listened. They were mostly from reporters wanting interviews, a few from old high school friends suddenly interested in her because of her notoriety. And the remainder were her mother and father begging her to call them back so that "we can talk about this." They both used the same phrase. Multiple times.
I'm going to have to change my number, Gwen thought. And my name. She had absolutely zero desire to hear whatever lecture her parents had ready for her. And, because they were separated, she'd experience the wonderful joy of hearing it twice.
And there was not a single thing from B. Not even a measly text congratulating her on her newfound infamy. And here Gwen had been half expecting a few wise remarks at being labeled an escort.
"Nothing," she said, "Do I think I should call her?"
"No," Aiden said.
"Gee, that's harsh," Gwen said.
"No, I mean you shouldn't. I should."
She cocked her head at him. "Come again for Gwen?"
"She called me to let me know you were in trouble. She might take my call."
"Oh! Yeah! Go on, do it."
He retrieved his phone, getting ready to call. Just before he did, she touched his arm. "Maybe don't tell her I'm here." He nodded, then started again. She pulled at his sleeve. "Maybe make something up. Just get her to come here right away." Another nod from Aiden. For a third time, she got his attention, "Ooh! Maybe you can get her here by telling her-"
Aiden shushed her. He actually shushed her, like an ornery old librarian. "I have it in hand, okay?"
He started again, looked suspiciously at Gwen, and then went out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him and holding the handle so that she couldn't follow him.
"Hey!" she said, looking at his distorted image through the old peephole.
She watched him put the phone to his ear. Her pulse pounded past her temples, and that salmon really wasn't sitting well in her stomach anymore. If this didn't work, she just didn't know what else they could try.
For the second time that day, she looked up at the ceiling in a desperate, silent request for help from on high.
Answer, B, Gwen thought as she watched through that fisheye lens. Just answer. Answer answer answer...
"..."
That was about all Gwen could make out through the heavy door. She barely recognized Aiden's voice. It was like listening to an adult talk on Peanuts.
But he was talking. And that meant Beatrice had answered. Gwen did a little victory dance, then went straight back to looking through the peephole.
No matter how many times she appealed to the ceiling, Aiden wouldn't turn around so that she could see his facial expressions and body language. The most she got was a few nods. He leaned back against the door at once point, filling her entire field of vision with the swirl of hair at the back of his head. She noted how it looked like he might get a cowlick if he didn't keep it cut nice and short.
The conversation dragged on. Gwen pressed her forehead against the door, thankful for the cool sensation against her skin.
This is cruel! How could he do this do me? As soon as he gets back in here, I'm going to...
Her heart lurched when he hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Quickly, Gwen jumped back from the door, nearly falling on the bed, so that he could open it. The lock clicked when he scanned his card, and he stepped back in.
He shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets and just looked at her.
"Well?" she said. He had that poker face on again, so it was impossible to tell the outcome of the conversation.
His inscrutable mask cracked, and he smiled. "She's on her way over."
"Oh my God! That's amazing. What did you tell her? How did you convince her?"
He shrugged. "I simply told her that you finally figured out a way to make things up with her."
"What?!"
***
"Relax, I think that's a great idea!" Aiden said.
Apparently, Beatrice had told him that she was over at the opposite side of the park from the NYLO hotel, and that it would probably take her a good fifteen to twenty minutes to get here.
Gwen spent the first five of those minutes tearing into Aiden for telling B that Gwen could fix this. She'd then spent the following five minutes alternating between pulling at her hair, staring down at Broadway, and pacing while trying to figure something out.