Chapter 4 A Night of Pretend Turns Real

## Chapter 4: A Night of Pretend Turns Real

"This is ridiculous," I hissed, adjusting the oversized sunglasses on my face. "I feel like I'm in a bad spy movie."

"You look cute," Aidan replied, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we entered the hotel lobby. "Very incognito."

We'd spent the day developing our counter-strategy, which had somehow led us here—checking into the Grand Meridian Hotel under the guise of a vacationing couple. The plan was to lure Brandon and Vanessa into revealing their scheme while we recorded them properly this time.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan?" The receptionist smiled at us. "We have your reservation right here."

I felt Aidan stiffen beside me. We hadn't discussed aliases.

"That's us," I chirped, leaning into Aidan's side. "Newlyweds, actually."

"Oh, congratulations!" She beamed, tapping at her keyboard. "In that case, I'll upgrade you to one of our premium suites with a view."

"How generous," Aidan said, his arm slipping around my waist with practiced ease. "My wife will be thrilled."

As the elevator doors closed behind us, I stepped away from him. "Wife?"

"You started it with the newlywed comment."

"I was improvising! Newlyweds get special treatment."

"Well, now we have a better suite to strategize in." He smirked. "Mrs. Sullivan."

The suite was stunning—corner windows overlooking the city, a massive king bed, and a sitting area with a sleek sofa and armchairs. I immediately noticed there was only one bed.

"I'll take the sofa," Aidan offered, following my gaze.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're adults. We can share a bed without it meaning anything."

Advertisement

His eyebrow quirked. "Sure about that?"

I threw a decorative pillow at him. "Don't flatter yourself."

We spent the afternoon setting our trap. Our intel suggested Brandon and Vanessa were meeting at the hotel bar that evening to celebrate their "successful revenge." Aidan had convinced a college friend who worked at the hotel to help us record their conversation legally, using the establishment's security system.

"So now we wait," I said, perched on the edge of the bed.

"Now we wait." Aidan loosened his tie and dropped onto the sofa. "And hope they're stupid enough to incriminate themselves."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, just... charged. We'd been in constant motion since discovering the plot against us. Now, alone in a hotel suite with nothing to do but wait, I found myself noticing things—the way Aidan's shirt stretched across his shoulders, how his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he was thinking.

"What?" he asked, catching me staring.

"Nothing. Just wondering how we got here."

"By taxi, about an hour ago."

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean."

He sat forward, elbows on his knees. "Life's funny that way. One minute you're playing games at a wedding, the next you're framed for corporate espionage."

"With someone you barely know," I added.

"I wouldn't say that." His gaze was steady. "I think I know the important things about you."

"Like what?"

"You're brave. Quick-thinking. Fiercely loyal to your career." He paused. "And you're afraid of letting people see the real you."

I swallowed. "That's not—"

"It's okay." His voice softened. "Same here."

My phone buzzed, breaking the moment. It was a text from Aidan's friend: *They're here. At the corner table by the window.*

"Showtime," Aidan said, standing and offering me his hand. "Ready to play the loving wife again?"

I took his hand, ignoring the warmth that spread up my arm. "Born ready."

We entered the hotel bar, arms linked, laughing at nothing as if sharing a private joke. I spotted Brandon immediately, his back to us. Vanessa sat facing him, her blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she leaned in, speaking intently.

"Don't look directly at them," Aidan murmured against my ear, making it seem like he was whispering sweet nothings. "Table to their right is reserved for us."

We settled at our table, angled so they couldn't see our faces but we could observe them in the mirror behind the bar. The waiter—another friend of Aidan's—brought us champagne "compliments of the house" and discreetly adjusted the decorative plant between our tables, which contained a small recording device.

"To us," Aidan said loudly, raising his glass. "The perfect couple."

I clinked my glass against his, playing along. "No one would ever suspect otherwise."

We continued our charade, speaking just loudly enough to be overheard. Meanwhile, the recording device picked up Brandon and Vanessa's increasingly revealing conversation:

"They're suspended from both companies... The anonymous tip worked perfectly... No one suspects us..."

"Perfect," Aidan whispered, his lips nearly brushing my ear. "We've got them."

The evidence secured, we decided to celebrate with actual drinks. One glass of champagne became two, then cocktails. The tension of the past two days dissolved into genuine laughter and conversation.

"Tell me something real," I said, the alcohol making me bold. "Something you've never told anyone."

He studied me for a long moment. "I help pay for my ex's sister's college tuition."

I blinked, surprised. "Vanessa's sister?"

"No, another ex. Emily. Her sister got into Yale but their parents couldn't afford it." He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. "I send money anonymously each semester."

"Why?"

"The kid deserved a chance." He twirled his glass. "Not everyone gets those."

I found myself staring at him, recalibrating everything I thought I knew. "That doesn't fit with your whole 'heartless player' persona."

"Maybe that's just a persona." His eyes met mine, unexpectedly vulnerable.

Back in our suite, the atmosphere had shifted. The space felt smaller, more intimate. I kicked off my heels and sat cross-legged on the bed.

"We did it," I said. "By tomorrow, we'll have our reputations back."

"And then what?" Aidan asked, loosening another button on his shirt. "Back to our regular lives? The game continues?"

I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I guess so."

He sat beside me on the bed, close enough that I could smell his cologne. "What if I'm tired of games?"

My heart raced. "Careful. That sounds dangerously close to forfeiting."

"Would that be so terrible?" His hand found mine, fingers intertwining.

The air between us crackled with possibility. He leaned closer, and I found myself meeting him halfway. Our lips were inches apart when reality crashed back in.

"Wait," I pulled back slightly. "If we do this... if something happens... who wins the game?"

He hesitated, his breath warm against my lips. "Does it matter?"

"Yes. No." I closed my eyes. "I don't know."

We stayed suspended in that moment, neither advancing nor retreating. Finally, he pressed his forehead against mine with a soft laugh.

"We're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Completely." I smiled, relieved and disappointed all at once.

We fell asleep on opposite sides of the king bed, a careful gap between us. But sometime during the night, I woke to find myself curled against his chest, his arm draped protectively over me. I should have moved away. Instead, I nestled closer and drifted back to sleep.

When morning came, I opened my eyes to find Aidan already awake, watching me.

"You weren't really drunk last night, were you?" he asked quietly.

I met his gaze. "Neither were you."

A slow smile spread across his face. "No. I wasn't."

We lay there, a confession hanging in the air between us, neither willing to be the first to acknowledge what it meant.