The Pretend Girlfriend(31)

The first thing she did was lick her index finger and start leafing through it to find out the duration of this sham, the pages making a whisking sound against each other. The sooner this ended, the sooner she could get the weight of this lie off her chest and tell her friend.

She scanned the pages quickly, running her fingertip down the middle of each to keep from getting lost.

"Ah!" she said, tapping the page. She read the line.

The Undersigned acknowledges that their obligation shall continue until the instigating party discharges them from the duties outlined herein, or until the Undersigned states in a written notice that they wish to terminate the agreement with no less than two weeks' notice...

It went on like that, tying words into evil little knots that left her brain reeling as it tried to untie them. So basically, she thought, it goes as long as he wants it to go. Or as long as I want it to. Now that was interesting. For some reason, she'd been feeling like she was stuck in this agreement with no way out.

Of course, there was the whole two weeks of notice part. Like it was a job or something. But still, better than no way out at all.

Another flipped page revealed her list of expectations with regards to the phony relationship. She read these while chewing on her bottom lip. She was indeed required to basically drop whatever she was doing to go out with him on "social engagements."

Wow, lawyers could even make dates sound boring.

There was a minimum amount of public displays of affection like hand holding, hugging. No arguments were permitted in the presence of others, "Except in the case whereby a verbal altercation could be construed by any observers in question as a relationship-strengthening exercise."

What did that even mean? Were they supposed to stand at opposing sides of a restaurant and scream, "I love you more!" and "No, I love you more!" at each other?

Speaking of the L-word, there was even a clause about that. Apparently, should the relationship persist for two months or more, she was required to tell him she loved him at the end of phone conversations, when parting in public, things like that. When possible, it was to be preceded by, as the contract stated, "A physical display of affection."

Gwen pushed her glasses up her nose so that she could rub at her eyes. What have I gotten myself into?

There were more stipulations, but she moved onto the next page. This one pleased her more. It was about Aiden's obligations and restrictions regarding her. Everything she'd specified was laid down there in that overblown legal language, from no open-mouthed kissing to absolutely no sexual contact.

Reading that one actually left her somewhat disappointed. Even the powerfully boring word choices of the lawyer who'd written the contract couldn't quite wipe that incredibly vivid dream from her mind.

And, much to her shock, was another statement. She was to receive additional payments from Aiden every month. All of them never to drop below the level of her initial payment.

Now that really gave her a case of cotton mouth. She trembled a little. I'm getting paid more? Here she'd been thinking that Aiden got a helluva deal (a long-term girlfriend for the low-low price of $5000). Perhaps this wasn't such a bad deal after all.

Sure, there was Henry Manning to deal with. But that guy ran a huge international corporation. Wouldn't he be spending most of his time browbeating foreign governments into graciously accepting Carbide Solutions' business, and not accusing her of being a well-paid prostitute?

And I'm not a prostitute, she told herself, Aiden's not buying sex. He's buying a relationship.

The contract's wordiness and circular language (all to try and prevent her from finding any loopholes, she was sure) began giving her a headache. She leaned back in her chair, swiveling it a little from side to side. She looked at the puppy calendar tacked to the bristle board pane mounted along the wall in front of her desk. She had two essays due within three weeks, as well as a midterm to study for. Lots of stuff to keep her busy.

And now she didn't feel nervous about school. Well, there were still the usual nerves that went along with being a serial procrastinator (Can I write this 8-page essay the night before it's due?) but none of the nerves she'd felt earlier. None of those feelings wondering whether she'd even be here to put off writing those papers and studying for that exam in the first place.

She leaned forward to try and get back to the contract when her stomach growled. The coffee perked her up, but didn't get rid of her appetite.

She got up to go and make herself a PB&J sandwich. Just as she left her bedroom, the intercom buzzed.

Wondering just what Aiden wanted from her now, she walked over to the apartment door and pushed the little black nub down, putting her mouth close to the speaker. "Hello?" she said.