Free The Girlfriend Contract by Lucy Lambert Page B

started unwinding the string. She took out the papers and tapped them against her desk to straighten them out. Is that my heart pounding so loud? she wondered. Could Beatrice hear it? She hoped not.
    "Yes, it's from Aiden Manning. You're not gonna believe this, but hear me out..." Gwen said, wetting her lips, "He got a hold of me today, wanting to apologize. I didn't want to hear it at first, but he convinced me to go meet him for lunch... Well, we got to talking, and it turns out we have a lot in common..." she didn't mention that their primary commonality was a mutual need of certain services, "And he asked me out. I said sure."
    Beatrice blinked a few times, absorbing this as she swayed with her hands gripping the back of Gwen's chair. "Okay, sure. But why the paperwork?"
    Gwen laughed, "That's the crazy part! Apparently, if I want to go out with him, I need to sign this non-disclosure agreement because of the company he works for and who his dad is."
    Gwen glanced at the papers, hoping they would have some legal mumbo jumbo along those lines. To her delight, the bolded words NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT appeared at the top of the very first page in the packet.
    "See?" Gwen said, pointing triumphantly. B squinted blearily at them.
    "What a weirdo. Hey, just get this stuff signed. I can hear the TV; the commercials are over and I want to watch the movie again."
    She knew that she should really read every single page before signing and dating, but she also had to pretend that all this entailed was an agreement not to talk about anything she overheard about the Mannings and their business. And B wouldn't leave the room. So she got out a pen and scrawled her signature and the date at all the little X marks on all thirty pages. By the time she finished, her fingers hurt. And she'd also managed to rub her hand over the ink a few times, leaving little black blotches on the side of her hand.
    Sliding the papers back into the envelope, she wound the string around the hook while she walked back to the door. All that effort to keep the story straight did wonders to sober her up, and worry pinged in her stomach when she opened the door again to give it back to the courier.
    He'd been leaning against the opposite wall in that perfectly cultivated expression of boredom and disdain all teens seemed to develop.
    "Here you go. All in order. Ts crossed and Is dotted," she said, still feeling like she had to put on a show for Beatrice.
    The courier shrugged. He accepted the packet, then handed her another.
    "What's this?"
    "Your copy. I'm supposed to give it to you when you returned the first one signed and dated."
    "Oh, thanks." So it wasn't all bad news, then. At least she got to read exactly what she'd put her signature to. Hadn't Aiden said she also had certain obligations and responsibilities? It would be good to know what those were, and also whether he'd bothered to have his lawyers include her own stipulations.
    "Sure. Have a nice night, okay?" the courier said, walking away before he even finished.
    She put the papers in her desk drawer and went to finish the movie with Beatrice. She didn't drink anymore, wanting the alcoholic fuzz lifted from her brain before she did something else she knew she would regret.
    About an hour later, her phone rang. Private Number, the screen said. She answered.
    "Hello?" she said.
    "Gwen, yes, hi. It's me, Aiden. Thanks for getting the papers signed so quickly. Everything's in order, it seems."
    "Yeah, thanks again. Look, I'm actually in the middle of something..."
    "That doesn't matter. Put on that black dress you wore to Astor's party. My car will be at your building in fifteen minutes, and I need you to be ready," Aiden said.
    "Is it him? Let me talk to him," Beatrice said, trying to grab the phone. Gwen fended her off as gently as she could, anxiety building the whole time. What was happening?
    "Didn't you just hear? I'm busy," Gwen said.
    Aiden sighed, "You did read the contract, right? You must be