Gwen did not envy the bell hops who so quickly agreed to take her parents back up to the respective rooms. David and Barb took separate elevators, and Gwen and Aiden loitered in the marble-clad lobby to wait their turn.

Gwen couldn't sit. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Her anxiety and her anger kept coursing through her, giving her little jolts of adrenaline every time she started to slow. But the weight of everything exhausted her. It was a constant battle.

One she fought by pacing back and forth behind the overstuffed leather couch on which Aiden sat.

Neither of them appeared ready to speak yet, both lost in their own worries and worlds.

With no one there talking her worries down, Gwen could feel herself spiraling out of control.

What if Judith uses this as an excuse to end the whole thing right now? What if she takes Aiden away from me? What am I supposed to do? If this was the first, and presumably easiest, test, what's coming next? Can I take it?

The image of the old woman's wicked face kept appearing in her mind's eye, grinning at her.

"I think they've left," Aiden said, peering over towards the elevators. "Let's get upstairs."

A quick burst of panic shot through her when she realized that they'd be up there all alone in a few minutes. All alone with each other, no protective cocoon of bystanders around them to prevent the fight she could sense coming.

Aiden pushed himself off the couch and started over, pausing when he noticed that she didn't follow. "Coming?"

Stop being such a baby, Gwen thought. Sure, you can sit down here a little longer. But that's just procrastinating. In the end, you still have to go through with whatever it was you didn't want to do.

She so badly wanted to just plunk down on the couch and see how long she could put things off. But it wasn't the right thing, the mature, adult thing, to do.

"Coming," she replied.

The elevator came right away, for once. It turned out to be the fastest the two of them got where they were going, much to her chagrin.

Aiden popped the keycard into the lock and then put his shoulder to the door. Inside, he immediately tugged at one end of his bow tie and then pulled the length of silk out of his collar.

Shrugging off of his jacket and an unbuttoning of the top two buttons of his shirt followed quickly, and he finished the whole sequence by lowering himself onto the couch and blowing out his cheeks.

Gwen couldn't take it any longer. She tapped her foot, her arms squeezed tightly around her ribs. "Are you going to tell me I told you so? Because if you could, I'd like it sooner rather than later."

Aiden leaned back while also rubbing at the corners of his eyes. "Do I need to?"

"I don't know, do you?"

He sighed again and shrugged. "Fine. I did tell you that even with the contract, we're still playing by Judith's rules. She gets to decide all the games that we play for her. She is the referee or the judge in every case, and she ultimately decides who wins. Which will always be her, by the way."

"Sound a little more fatalistic about it, please. I don't quite feel like our fates are sealed yet."

"What were you expecting?" Aiden said testily.

Part of Gwen knew that bickering about this was just what Judith wanted, but she couldn't stop herself. All that frustration and anger had to come out somewhere. And Aiden was the only target available.

"I'm not sure. I can tell you what I wasn't expecting, though. I wasn't expecting your grandmother to set us all up on a dinner date and then do her best to try and get my parents sent to whatever the Swiss equivalent of a drunk tank is."

"Which is an oversight you won't be making again."

"Thanks, tips," Gwen said, turning away, not wanting to look at him anymore.

"Wait," Aiden said. She heard the rustle of cushions as he stood up, "There's more to this. I can tell. You're upset with me. Why are you upset with me? I did my best out there..." his footsteps drew closer and she knew he wanted to enfold her in one of those comforting back hugs of his in order to disarm her fuse.

Well, she wasn't going to let him. She turned around and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You! Doing your best to what? Make my parents look like giant babies? You scolded them like children, taking their wine glasses away like they were toys or something! Didn't you notice the way everyone stared at us when you did that?"

Aiden's eyes iced over. Gwen almost flinched. Almost. She met his coldness with a fiery glare of her own. They stared so long that her eyes began itching and burning, but she refused to blink.

"Actually, I was less concerned with what other people think and more interested in addressing the problem at hand. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Gwen's mouth dropped open. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"Then maybe you should stop believing in stupid things and start seeing what's right in front of your face," Aiden snarled, tensing up. "Maybe I did treat your parents like children. But only because they were acting like them. Just like you're acting like one now. Things didn't go your way so you're throwing a tantrum."

The iciness of his eyes and the naked anger in his words smashed into her. Pressure built up behind her eyes as she tried to think of some retort and found nothing.

Seeing this, Aiden's eyes softened. His shoulders relaxed, and he took a deep breath. "Good, now that that's over, can we just forget about tonight and maybe get to bed? I know it's still really early, but I feel wrung out..."

"How can you say something like that?" Gwen said, unwilling and unable to just let go of it like that. She felt hurt and defenseless and cornered, and Aiden wanted to forget about it.

"Please don't start again," he said, still trying to defuse her.

"I'm not starting it because it hasn't ended yet. I know you didn't believe in this right from the start. Tell me, are you trying to help Judith win? Because it sure seems like it!"

Aiden shook his head like he couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. "Why would you even say that? Of course I'm on your side. I've always been on your side."

"Then stop acting like you aren't."

Aiden ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the careful combing he'd done to go out to dinner. Even angry at him like she was, Gwen couldn't help admitting how sexy it made him look. But it wasn't the time to think about that, so she struck it from her thoughts.

"No, Gwen. You're the one who has to stop acting. You have to stop acting like an entitled, selfish little girl. Now, I'm going to bed. Are you joining me?"

"No. You can sleep by yourself tonight. And every other night after that, for all I care. In fact, you can have your... stupid..." Gwen said, gritting her teeth while she tried pulling the engagement ring off, intent on throwing it in his face and storming out.

However, the ring refused to budge. She spun it around and pried at it, but it couldn't slide over her knuckle.

She hated the way it reduced her to sputtering and clawing, trying to get it off. It went on so long she might have laughed had it not been happening to her.

Aiden's anger broke, then, and he smiled at her. "It's not supposed to come off, you know. Not now or ever. Save your strength."

Gwen ignored him and pushed harder, the metal band biting into her skin. It still didn't come off.

"Screw it!" she said. His smile renewed her anger. "Yeah, laugh it up. We'll see who's laughing tonight."

She went to the door and wrenched it open, storming out into the hall. She didn't look back to see if Aiden followed her. Reaching the elevator, she jabbed the down button a half dozen times. When it didn't come promptly, she found the stairs and took them down to the lobby.

From there, she went outside, her shoes clicking against the concrete. The blanket of night had fallen on Switzerland since they had returned from their restaurant misadventure.

It was quite the fetching view, with the stars sparkling over the shadowy mountains. It didn't fetch Gwen, though. She didn't care about the stupid, beautiful vista.

She didn't care how all the heat seemed to have left with the sun. And she definitely didn't care about how cold it had gotten. Or that, in her anger, she had neglected to grab so much as a windbreaker from the suite before her glorious and enraged exit.

"And I'm definitely not going back to get one," she muttered, clutching herself for warmth.

The few pedestrians she passed on the street, all clad for the weather, gave her funny looks.

She walked several blocks away from the hotel, trying to keep the heat of her anger up by thinking about what she wanted to do to Aiden's stupid, handsome face. The cold air won out over the hot anger, but not over her mulish stubbornness.

"I'm not going back," she muttered. He won't get that satisfaction.

Still, she also knew that she couldn't stay outside.

Then she heard the sound of salvation. Some sort of Euro (German, by the sound of it) rock music blasting from somewhere close by. And where there was rock playing loudly on the street, there was a bar.

She rounded the street corner and saw it. It was a pub, with a hanging sign of a foamy beer swaying in the wind. A man stumbled from the door, spilling light out onto the street and letting the sounds of merriment drift out. She watched him make his way around the empty tables and chairs of the patio and then bumble away down the street.

Warmth, Gwen thought, drawn to the pub. And alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

She went inside, the warm air prickling her cold skin, and sat on a stool by the bar. It wasn't the largest bar she'd seen. Pretty small, actually. Maybe a half dozen round tables with chairs scattered around them. Men and women laughed and drank, yelling at each other in German over the racket of the music.

It wasn't a place for tourists, either, it seemed.

The bartender approached her and asked her a question in German. Gwen shrugged, her stomach sinking. He blinked, then tried again in French. Gwen replied with another universal shrug.

She was beginning to get why so many people, especially Euros, looked down on Americans. "English?" Gwen tried.

The bartender knitted his thick eyebrows together. "No, no English," he said in a heavy accent.

Gwen looked for some way to breach the language barrier, her eyes settling on the beer taps. She didn't recognize the brand logos, but that didn't matter to her much at that moment. She reached down to grab her purse, ready to order a drink. Except her hands didn't find her purse.

Her stomach dropped through the floor. I forgot to grab it before I stormed out. She'd been so mad at Aiden, so embarrassed and frustrated with not getting the ring off her finger, that she'd just wanted to leave and hadn't really thought about anything beyond that.

The bartender took note of her lack of funds. Somehow, his frown deepened. He spoke in German and waved at the door.

She didn't need to know the language to know that he wanted her out.

Maybe I'll just sit in the hotel lobby all night, Gwen thought as she began sliding off the stool, some of those couches looked pretty comfy.

Someone tall sidled up to the bar next to her. He spoke in German to the bartender, who harrumphed and stalked down to the beer taps. Then the newcomer turned to Gwen.

"It's such a shame how everyone always wants money before they'll give you what you want."

Gwen looked up into his face. The blond hair, the accent, the smile. "Ben!" she said.

Ben Somersby sat on the stool next to hers. "You know, I've never been overly fond of my name. Always thought it sounded so ordinary and boring. But when you say it, it doesn't sound too bad."

The bartender slid two foaming mugs of beer over in front of them. "Danke," Ben said, nudging one in Gwen's direction. Some of the foam sloshed over the side.

Gwen shook her head. "Does everyone except for me speak ten languages?"

Ben raised his mug, "Cheers," he said, gulping some of the frothy liquid down and making a satisfied noise when he finished. "I don't know about ten. Only know three myself. Hey, drink up. We're not all marrying a billionaire, and, as I'm sure you just discovered, the beer isn't free."

"Thanks," Gwen said, sliding her hand into the handle of the heavy mug and then taking a sip. It was cold, and she shivered. "And I think you can count yourself lucky on the not marrying a billionaire bit. It's not as fun as it looks."

"Oh?" Ben replied.

"No. And you seem different somehow. Cheekier."

Ben pinched his cheeks. "These old things? I'm not always a journalist you know, always on the job. Sometimes I'm just a Brit at a bar enjoying a beer. And alliteration... Maybe I am always on the job." He took another swallow from his mug.

Gwen smiled at his joke and then shivered again. Why did it have to be so cold?

"Now you are the one who seems different. Also, underdressed," Ben said, "Don't you know it gets rather chilly at night? Here, I insist." Ben stripped off his jacket and hung it over Gwen's shoulders. He wore a charcoal button-down underneath it that really set off the grey in his eyes.

She protested until she felt the warmth. It seeped in through her skin and she sighed at the sensation. I'll give it back as soon as I get rid of this chill, she told herself.

"Better, see?" Ben said, taking a quick look over his shoulders at the rest of the patrons, "So I don't see our Harvard man around. Can I presume some trouble in paradise? A lover's quarrel, perhaps?"

She gave him a sidelong look. "I thought you didn't work for the tabloids?"

"I don't. Like I said, I'm not on the job here now. I'm not Ben Somersby, hard-hitting investigative reporter. Here I'm Ben Somersby, beer lover and good listener."

"We'll see about that," Gwen said.

"Try me."

"You promise this is all... off the record?"

"It's so far off the record it might as well be in orbit. Really. Besides, you know if I submitted even a singular word to my editor that might be construed as not lauding praise upon our Harvard man and his company I would lose my job. You've nothing to worry about."

Ben really did have a great accent. And a great, friendly smile. And his coat was nice and warm. Besides, if she didn't vent soon she knew she'd burst from the pressure.

"It's kind of hard to explain..."

"Try me," Ben said, gulping down some more beer. He was already more than half done his pint.

So she did try him. "Well, like I said, it's complicated. Let's just say that it has something to do with his grandmother not exactly approving of our match and my efforts to try and win said approval back."

"Not going so well, then, eh?"

"So far, no good. Although things might have gone a bit better if Aiden would dismount his high horse long enough to get my back."

"So if I understand your mixed metaphors correctly, he's not helping you out with the whole grandmother issue? Is her approval of your relationship really that important to the both of you?"

Gwen got the sudden urge to drink. She put the glass to her lips and swallowed the foamy beer down as quickly as she could, stopping only when she needed air. The heavy stein clacked against the bar top loud enough that the bartender glanced in their direction.

"No help at all. Actually, I got the impression tonight that he thinks this whole thing is stupid and not worth his effort."

"Really? Carry on," Ben said. He waved to the bartender, pointed down at the two mostly empty beer mugs and held up two fingers. Shortly thereafter, two fresh, frothy glasses arrived to replace their depleted comrades.

"Well, to cut a long, convoluted story short, we had a fight back in our suite and I stormed out and ended up here with you and all my new friends: these beers," Gwen said, finishing the first mug and taking a mouthful from the second.

Already, she experienced the lovely, tingling buzz that marked the first stage of alcohol intoxication. She reminded herself to try and be careful, she didn't want to get blackout drunk and wake up bleary-eyed in a dumpster tomorrow morning. Who knew what horrors awaited in a Swiss dumpster?

"Lucky me," Ben said.

She found that she liked Ben. He was easy enough to get along with, with a quick sense of humor and a sharp mind. Somewhat dry, but dry was okay. Besides, she also liked having a captive audience to dump all her issues on.

"He makes me so mad sometimes. Like tonight, he saw how mad I was, and he smiled at me! And I think there was a chuckle somewhere in there, too."

"That devil," Ben agreed.

"Sometimes I think that he thinks I don't know what I'm getting myself into."

"With marrying him, you mean?"

Gwen knew that she skated around dangerous territory here. But the beer was so foamy and good, and while it was cold going down, it certainly warmed her stomach nicely.

"Sort of. There's a lot more to it than that, though. Then again, our whole relationship has been a bit of a weird one from the moment it started."

Ben used the pad of his thumb to wipe a bit of white, frothy foam from his upper lip. "Back in New York, yes? You two met at a party and hit it off from there?"

"Yes...?" Gwen said, giving him a sidelong glance.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. Research is my job. Well, research and writing. I'm familiar with your escapades back in Manhattan."

Gwen shook her head at that and then gulped down some more beer. "Keep telling yourself that." There were very few people in the world who were actually familiar with her escapades. Everyone else just believed what they read in the tabloids.

"I like to think I'm fairly well informed. For instance, did you know that dear old daddy Henry Manning received a mobile call from your fiancé just a few minutes before his car wreck?"

Gwen barely managed not to spit her latest mouthful of beer back into her glass. Instead she choked it down and hoped that she hadn't paused for too long. "You do your homework, I see."

"When it involves a beautiful woman, always."

Maybe it was the alcohol, her anger at Aiden, or a combination of the two. Whatever it was, Gwen felt the blush creeping up her neck, and could barely keep herself from smiling.

"Another pint?" Ben said, nodding down at her nearly empty second mug of beer. He smiled.

Gwen almost said yes. She wanted to say yes. And then she realized what she was doing. Letting a handsome Englishman buy her drinks at a pub. He called me beautiful, she thought. I'm angry at Aiden, but I still love him. Besides, she knew then after having some time to cool off, Aiden really did have a point.

"Thanks, but I'm cutting myself off now. Sorry."

"Not a problem. So what now?"

"Now," Gwen said, sliding off the stool and then shrugging off Ben's jacket, "I think I'm going back to the hotel. Thanks for letting me use this."

But Ben didn't take the jacket back. Instead he hopped down off his stole, dug his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed a few funny looking Euro bills down onto the bar. "And let you walk yourself back at this time of night? And in the cold, no less? I think not."

He did have a point. It was night out, and while the neighborhood looked nice, who knew what sort of hooligans waited in the shadows? She could feel it was a bad idea; however, getting mugged because she'd refused his company sounded like an even worse one.

"Okay, fine. You might as well take this back, though, because I'm done with it," Gwen said, forcing the jacket into his hands.

It was a move she regretted as soon as they stepped out onto the street. The breeze had bite to it, and she flinched.

"Are you sure you don't want it?" Ben said as they started down the sidewalk.

"Yes, thanks," Gwen said, hoping the shadows hid the way her skin knitted itself into goosebumps. She did her best to keep her arms swinging at her sides, rather than clutched around her body.

At least the cold sobered her up right away. The comforting ball of warmth in her stomach contracted and finally disappeared. The buzz in her mind quieted.

It took maybe ten minutes to get back to the long drive that led up to the front of the hotel. All the while, Ben kept talking to her. He was a nice guy, if very curious. She liked being near him, but also knew that she shouldn't.

Large floodlights lit the facade of the building. Gwen's feet moved more quickly, following her desire to get inside as fast as she could.

Before they reached those doors, Ben lightly gripped her arm above the elbow and stopped her. He didn't let go, and she found herself looking up into his stubbled face. "Are you sure you're okay?" he said.

"Yes, thanks. It is pretty cold out here. Why don't we go into the lobby?" The lobby, with its elevators that could take her up to her suite, where Aiden waited.

"Not yet." Ben sighed. He glanced around as though trying to make up his mind about something. He did. "I think there's something between us, Gwen. I can feel it. I know you can, too. So I just want to lay this on the table. Aiden is a complicated man with a complicated life, both personal and professional. I, on the other hand, am pretty simple. What you see is what you get. So, what I'm asking is, do you like what you see?"

His words stunned Gwen. She'd suspected that his interest in her went beyond the professional. And somewhere inside, she'd known about this attraction since they first bumped into each other. She'd felt it, too.

"I can't," Gwen said, "I love Aiden." And she did, she could feel that inside, too. It came with more certainty than ever before, too, after Ben's offer forced her to really consider it. "Now please let me go."

Ben's face grew dark, his lips pressing thin and his brow furrowing. That hadn't been the answer he'd been hoping for and expecting. "Yes, of course. Just one more thing."

"What?" Gwen replied.

He pulled her close and kissed her. His stubble prickled her chin and cheeks, and his eager lips writher against hers.

It went on until Gwen managed to shove him away.

"Tell me you didn't feel anything," Ben said.

"I can't feel anything for you, Ben. I told you, I love Aiden. Thank you for your help tonight, but please leave me alone." Her whole body shook, and it wasn't from the cold. If anything, she felt hot. Her heart slammed itself against the back of her ribs. Anxiety and fear and shock all roiled together in her stomach, trying to enclose her in numbness.

"I see how it is," Ben said. "Fine, take your leave, then. But I know that you felt something, no matter how you lie to me and to yourself." He shoved his hands into his pockets, hunched his shoulders, and stalked away from the hotel.

Gwen watched him for a few seconds to make sure he really went before wheeling back towards the doors. "Aiden, oh Aiden," she said.

She felt terrible. She needed to see him, to explain, to apologize, to beg his forgiveness. All of that and more. She needed to tell him that he was right, and that they could do whatever he wanted to.

She rushed into the lobby, hardly feeling the warmth of the indoor air on her skin. Now that it was later, it was much quieter. A couple night auditors watched her from their places behind their desks. A few people sat in the lounge areas flipping through books or magazines or whispering quietly.

The loudest thing in the large room was her scurrying footsteps.

When she reached the elevator she instinctively reached down to touch her purse. More panic spread out through her chest when she again remembered forgetting it in their suite. The panic only increased when she also recalled that her room key was in said purse.

I really screwed up, she thought. Really, well, and truly. Like Napoleon invading Russia screwed up. Or black suit and brown shoes screwed up.

She thought about going to one of the auditors and asking for another key, but knew they wouldn't. Not without seeing some identification (also in her purse).

It didn't matter, though. Aiden would be there, and he would let her in. She hit the Up button to call the elevator. It took so long that she seriously considered jogging up all the stairs.

The entire ride up, she leaned against the corner and fiddled nervously with her ring. Maybe it had been the cold outside, but it felt looser on her finger, spun more freely. It would come off now, she knew. Not that she would even consider removing it.

After an anxious epoch, the elevator delivered her to her floor. Breathless, she sped down the hall. She knew that everything would be better as soon as she could see him, throw herself into his arms, and ask him to make everything better. He always made everything better.

In an attempt to hold onto some shred of her dignity, she stopped short of the door to their suite. She straightened her back and made herself take a few deep breaths in an effort to calm her racing heart.

"Never a mirror when you need one," she muttered, pawing at her hair and trying to set it as straight as she could. It felt pretty windblown, though. Besides, her brush was in her purse.

Her palms started sweating. She lifted one fist to knock, but hesitated. He's going to be mad at me, she thought.

Her keen procrastinator’s instincts kicked in. They told her to maybe go back down to the lobby and chill for a while. You know, just to calm down and think things through a little more.

Or, if that didn't sound good, they also suggested that maybe she could go work out some of her feelings by going and berating her parents for a few minutes.

Both options tempted her. Especially the second one. Both her parents deserved a good reaming out for what they'd let happen at the restaurant. But doing that wouldn't help her set things straight with Aiden any faster. He might even be angrier for making him wait that much longer.

So before she could stop herself, she rapped her knuckles smartly against the door three times and waited.

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Her heart pushed into her throat. This was it. Time for groveling and apologizing and, hopefully, making up.

The door opened. "...Gwen?"

"Catherine?"