Free The Pretend Girlfriend by Lucy Lambert

generous amount.
    "I already made tea," Gwen said, nodding at the stainless kettle on the stove.
    "Tea doesn't get you drunk," Beatrice said, dismissing it with a wave, and then forcing a glass with what had to be at least three shots worth of straight vodka into Gwen's hand. She clinked their glasses together and swallowed about a third of hers. Gwen took a polite sip, grimacing at the taste. She never drank liquor or spirits straight. Not since, as Beatrice mentioned, first year of college.
    "Come on, come on," Beatrice said, leading her out to the living room where they both sat on the couch, "Tell me about it?"
    "About what?" Gwen said, hoping it might have slipped her friend's mind. Being so excitable, B did forget things from time to time.
    But not this time. "Don't give me that! You said your problem's fixed, and I want to know how."
    This required some quick thinking. And, unfortunately for Gwen, her mind and body exhausted from the events of the day, she couldn't think quickly. One thing did occur to her, and she grabbed at it like a drowning man grabs at a life preserver.
    "My dad is sending me the money," she said.
    Beatrice took another gulp from her glass before setting it down on the coffee table. She frowned. "Your dad? I thought both your parents were broke because of the divorce?"
    "I don't know how he's getting the money, only that he promised to send it," Gwen send, the irritation tingeing her voice real. She loved Beatrice dearly, but the woman could really drive her crazy.
    "Oh. That's cool, I guess. Just didn't really expect it was all. To tell you the truth, I was actually stopping by to say you could come crash at my place until you got it all sorted out. I figured I would just ply you with alcohol first, since I think we both know how we feel about that."
    "Oh, B," Gwen said, setting her glass down and hugging her friend, "I don't deserve someone like you."
    "Nope," Beatrice replied, "Count yourself lucky I don't start charging."
    It was meant as a joke. But it still stung. There was no way Beatrice could have known the deal Gwen made with Aiden, but her remark still managed to hit the bulls eye. Gwen pulled back from the hug feeling hurt and confused.
    Her sense of humor pulling back when she recognized what happened, Beatrice said, "What? What is it? I didn't mean it. I wasn't being serious."
    "I know, I know, don't worry about it," Gwen said, grabbing her glass of vodka and taking a bigger swallow this time. It burned down her throat and soothed some of the nerves in her stomach with its warmth.
    Beatrice didn't accept it. "No, tell me, what's up?"
    Gwen chewed on her bottom lip. Part of her wanted to spill the whole thing, the whole deal. It might feel good to get it all in the open, to have someone else in on it. But then it would also show Beatrice just what kind of person Gwen could be. That is, one who accepts money for certain services rendered. And she really cared what Beatrice thought of her. She couldn't take the looks she knew she'd get, couldn't bear answering the questions, dealing with the incredulity.
    And she also knew that Beatrice might well be able to get her to withdraw the money and give it back to Aiden.
    "It's nothing. You just reminded me of something I didn't like in a movie I saw a while back that really got to me," Gwen said.
    She hated lying to her friend. It twisted her up inside. But telling the truth just wasn't an option. Not yet, anyway. Not until she could find a way to make B understand.
    "Oh, well then, okay. Maybe you should give me a trigger warning list or something?" Beatrice said, smiling again and giving Gwen a nudge.
    "I'll have my secretary fax it to you in the morning," Gwen replied, relief relaxing her so that she sat back on the couch and took another sip from her glass.
    They turned on the TV and caught a showing of When Harry Met Sally that had only been on for fifteen minutes. This led into an old debate that had been going on since first year about