Gwen wanted to feel triumphant at being able to get to him, but couldn't. No, she only felt sorry for him. Here was a man who'd spent his whole life building up a huge, multi-national corporation to try and replace his wife, while simultaneously alienating his son, who was his wife's true legacy. And Gwen could see that, at some level, Henry recognized this, too. He'd just been doing things one way for so long that he didn't know how to do them any other.
Nothing ever went the way she expected it too, apparently. She actually got the urge to apologize for snapping at him like that, despite his deserving every word of it.
Henry reconstructed his facade of detached composure, steepling his fingers again, and said, "So we're in agreement regarding the terms of the new contract? You will sign it when the courier delivers it later today?"
Before Gwen could answer, the door to the office burst open behind her.
"Mr. Manning, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him!" the secretary said, looking decidedly nonplussed at having to abandon her roost behind her desk.
However, Gwen's attention never really focused on the secretary. Aiden strode into the room in a crisp black suite and a red tie. He looked perfectly composed, as though nothing had happened the night before. Just seeing him made Gwen's body ache again.
He looked to her for a moment, their eyes meeting, before shifting his gaze to his father. "What are you trying to get her to do?"
Henry considered his son, then pushed back from his desk and stood up, the castors on his chair swishing against the floor. The tension mounted in the room as the two Mannings engaged in a brief stare down.
Henry relented first. "You may go," he told his secretary (who beat a hasty retreat). Turning to his son, he said, "I am not trying to get her to do anything. She came here of her own free will. Demanded it, from what I gather. I was merely... facilitating," he glanced at the opened contract on his desk, the shiny pen sitting beside it.
"Did you sign anything?" Aiden said, worry plain in his voice as he strode over to stand beside Gwen. He quickly scanned the contract, confirming for himself that she hadn’t yet signed it.
Gwen replied anyway, "No." Why was Aiden here? She hadn't told him she would be here. A sort of numbness pervaded her mind. Confusion. She was shell-shocked. She'd spent all morning convincing herself that this was the right thing to do, that it was what was best for the both of them. Couldn't he see that?
Aiden's hand on her elbow snapped her at least partially from her stupor. "We should go," he said, urging her away from the desk.
"You'd best be careful with this one, boy," Henry said, walking over to the bay window, hands shoved into his pockets, and looking out across the New York skyline as though he were a world-weary emperor suffering under the weight of his crown. "She drove quite the hard bargain."
"I'm sure," Aiden said, trying not to pay any attention to his father as he led Gwen from the office. She looked over her shoulder at the contract, sitting open and unsigned on the desk. Would Henry still courier the amended one to her later?
Would she sign it, if he did?
With Aiden with her again, she didn't know. Maybe this was a sign, like the horse race. Maybe all that intense concentration on her phone earlier, trying to make him call and set her at ease, worked. Maybe it had just been delayed.
The secretary glared at them as Aiden pulled her from the waiting room into the hallway with its bank of elevators. He kept shooting glances at her, and Gwen got the impression that he wanted to tell her something. Why did he wait?
The building, of course, Gwen figured. Who knew how good those security cameras staring down at them from the corners of the lobby were, how much they could hear.
She could also sense apprehension coming from him in waves, nervous energy that set her heart racing.
"I didn't think you would come," she said as they got into the elevator. Aiden jabbed the button for the ground floor, glanced at her, then fixed his attention on the countdown as the elevator started its descent.
"Well, I did," he said, giving the security camera a meaningful look. They couldn't talk yet.
So Gwen and Aiden spent the ride down in silence. She examined him, stealing looks when she figured he couldn't see. Hair perfect. Suit not wrinkled. No scuffs on his shiny black shoes. His smooth cheeks and the hint of aftershave she caught, along with everything else, told her that Aiden was fully composed. Did he not ache, too?
It wasn't until they reached the sidewalk that he turned and confronted her. The growing number of pedestrians parted around them like a river around an outcropping of rocks, and the tall buildings hid them from the low morning sun.
"Why are you giving up?" he asked.