"Gwen! This is ridiculous!" Aiden said, chasing after his fiancé through the luxuriously-appointed hotel hallway.

Gwen bit her lip, trying to remember the room numbers. Her mom and dad were in here somewhere, and they were the key to this whole thing.

They arrived at the elevator and her finger hesitated over whether to punch the Up or Down button. Aiden caught up to her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Gwen, just stop for a second. Think about this."

She shrugged his hand off even as she said, "Aha!" and remembered what floor they stayed on. She jabbed the Up button and waited.

"It's just a game. It's always a game to people like her," Aiden said. "To people like Henry and Judith. And you know they only play when they know they can win."

Gwen hardly heard him, her mind alive with possibilities, scenarios, gambits and maybe even a little blackmail.

My parents are the key, she thought, mom and dad, dad and mom. Even though what Aiden kept trying to say to her made sense, she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear it because she didn't want to lose him, and if he was right about this whole thing, that meant she was out of ideas for keeping him. And she couldn't accept that.

"Don't play," Aiden said, "Because they always make the rules. And they always make the rules to make sure that they win. What do you even expect to do when you see them? You can't magically repair their relationship; you saw them last night. They hate each other!"

The doors gave a subdued chime and slid open quietly on well-oiled tracks. Gwen stepped inside.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Gwen said, hitting the button for her parents' floor, "I'm glad to see that you’re taking this so seriously. If you don't want to help, then at least stay out of the way."

Aiden's shoulders sagged just as the doors began sliding shut. "I'll be back in our suite."

The elevator began rising as soon as the doors sealed. It accelerated just fast enough that she felt it in her knees, the whine of the electric motor barely audible. Gwen's heart did its best to slam its way out of her chest.

Some part of her told her that Aiden was right. Judith set all the rules here. And she had to face it: they were pretty tough ones. David and Barb really could no longer stand being in the same room with each other.

It galled her to think about Judith's confidence in the matter, in Judith's summary judgment of her parents as bad people who raised some sort of problem child.

David and Barb had always done their best with Gwen, and she knew that. They'd kept it together for her until she went off to college, keeping their arguments and grievances to themselves as much as possible.

Then again, that had probably been part of the problem. All that lying to each other, to her, keeping things bottled up must have eaten away at them.

Before her thoughts could go any deeper, the elevator slowed and then stopped, the doors opening to disgorge her into another opulent hallway.

"Hey, Gwenny, everything okay?" David said, answering the door in plush housecoat so white it almost hurt to look at. He smiled at first, but quickly detected the tension radiating from his daughter. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to you and mom."

"Oh," David replied, his forehead wrinkling at the mention of his almost ex. He started making excuses, citing a massage he'd scheduled, and began closing the door.

It stopped when the jamb hit Gwen's toes. "You're just going to have to deal for now, got it? Now put some shoes on."

David's mouth worked without making any sounds for a few moments, his feelings for Barb fighting a pitched battle against his love for Gwen. Huffing a sigh, he said, "Just give me a second."

Pulling on a pair of matching white slippers, he followed Gwen into the hallway and they proceeded to Barb's room. Barb answered her door fully prepared for her day in some relaxed slacks and a shirt with droopy sleeves that fell down her arms when she lifted them up.

"Gwen!" she said, her smile disappearing when she saw David. "You."

"Hear that?" David said, "That sort of disdain takes time to develop. Like a bottle of fine wine opened and allowed to sour."

Barb gave David a once over, taking in the blindingly-white housecoat and slippers. "All this coming from a man who can't be bothered dress himself in the morning. I'll bet he even ordered room service instead of going out, Gwen. You're lucky that boy of yours offered to pay for all this."

David straightened up as though to look menacing, the effect ruined when one bare leg slipped through the folds of the robe, making him hastily tuck it back in. "I would have paid for all this myself, if a certain greedy vampire hadn't sucked every last penny out of me in lawyer fees, alimony and..."

"Good God, David! Vampires don't suck money!" Barb tried to break in.

"Well then I guess you're a special sort of monster, then!"

He nudged Gwen out of the way so that he and Barb could go nose to nose. They both looked red, and about ready to pop as they each came up with some old grievance to air or jab to launch.

The commotion wasn't quiet, either. Other guests (some Gwen knew, most she didn't) poked their heads out of their doors to watch the loud, silly Americans scream at each other.

David's housecoat came loose again, except this time he didn't notice, letting everyone see the pasty complexion developed from decades of sitting in an office.

"Inside! Now!" Gwen said, cutting her mother off just as she launched into another tired tirade about selling the house.

Both her parents stopped and gaped at her.

"Gwen..." David said.

"Go!" Gwen said, grabbing her father by the shoulders and shoving him forward. Barb lurched back in an effort to avoid touching the man.

Hanging the Do Not Disturb sign off the latch, Gwen shut the door and then turned back to her bickering parents. She resisted the urge to start tearing at her hair. Maybe Judith is right, she thought.

"What is wrong with you two?" Gwen said, "Screaming at each other like that? People were staring!"

David and Barb glanced at each other, and Gwen thought they might actually begin the "He started it!" and "No, she did!" game. But instead they just looked bashful and embarrassed.

Gwen took a breath. "Are we finished?"

"I think so," Barb said.

"What is it you wanted to talk to us about, baby?" David said, finally noticing the state of his housecoat and pulling the belt tighter around his waist.

Gwen blinked. She opened her mouth, then shut it. She realized she'd been so hell bent on getting to them that she'd put no thought into what to actually say.

Trying to buy herself some time, she walked deeper into the room. It wasn't a suite, like she and Aiden had. This one was more a traditional hotel room, if a well-appointed one. It had a king-sized bed (already made; her mother always made the bed first thing after getting up) near the window, a nice big mahogany desk and accompanying dresser, a big-screen TV set into the wall. A pair of wingback chairs in the corner for reading.

The view wasn't as good, either, with the adjacent building blocking out some of the majestic mountains.

Gwen sat on the foot of the bed, the covers wrinkling beneath her weight.

"Is something wrong?" David said.

"What? What is it?" Barb added, a truce forming between them for the benefit of their daughter.

For a second, Gwen considered telling them the whole truth. That Judith was going to use her leverage over Aiden to block their relationship. That Judith thought they were awful people who'd raised a gold digging daughter. That if they could only be civil, or even nice, to each other around Judith it would go a long way to smoothing things over.

However, that idea died quickly. She could see the result of it all too easily: both her parents becoming enraged, telling her how ridiculous it all was. One or both of them just up and leaving, one or both of them going to confront Judith to defend the family honor.

Gwen wanted to avoid all that soap opera stuff if possible.

"You guys know that I got engaged last night, right?"

Her mother immediately scurried over to the bed, grabbed her left hand, and began fawning over the engagement ring. "So beautiful! Look at the size of the diamonds!" Barb shot a look back at David, "See this? This is an engagement ring."

David rolled his eyes. Gwen jumped in before they could start fighting again.

"See? This is exactly what I mean! I got engaged last night, and the only thing you two want to do is find more things to yell at each other about. Aren't you happy for me?"

"Oh, of course, sweetie!" Barb said, sitting down beside Gwen. "We're both so happy for you. Aiden is a good boy."

"Right," David said, coming and sitting down on Gwen's other side, sandwiching her between them. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't behave this way. This should be all about your future, not our past."

"Thank you," Gwen said. She wished then that she'd been able to pluck up the courage to confront her parents earlier. And without having Judith's threat hanging over her head. "It's just that I love you guys. And I know what good people you are, and I feel bad when everyone else here doesn't get to see that side of you. Can you understand that?"

"Yes," David and Barb said together. Their agreeing on a point came as a shock to both of them, and they shared a stunned look.

"I mean, it's not like I'm asking you two to get back together or anything. Just to be civil, or maybe even nice to each other out in public. People notice that sort of thing, you know. Can you do that? For me?"

David and Barb looked at each other again, the question hanging between them.

"Of course we can, Gwenny, we love you," Barb said.

"We'll try," David said.

Gwen left her mother's room shortly thereafter. At first, optimism and triumph filled her. She knew her parents would come through for her.

Except then Aiden's voice spoke up in her mind, telling her that this wouldn't be enough. That Judith set the rules here and that if Gwen managed to score any points, Judith would just change them once more to suit her.

She became so lost in thought that when she stepped out of the elevator onto her floor, she ran into the man waiting on the other side.

"Oh!" she said, bouncing off a solid body back towards the closing elevator doors.

He reached out and caught her before she could stumble any farther. "Are you all right?"

"I think so, yes, I..." her words caught in her throat when she looked up into the face of her savior.

He was blond. The kind of blond Gwen associated with rolling fields of hay under the summer sun, matched with a pair of blue eyes that rivaled the color of that lake at the foot of the mountains. A hint of black stubble dotted his face and emphasized the strong line of his jaw.

He smiled down at her, and she couldn't breathe. Until she realized that she was staring.

"Are you sure? You look a little dazed," he said. She noticed his accent, then. English. And it was one of those posh accents, too. The kind of accent that made everything he said sound super smart and interesting.

"Fine. I'm fine," Gwen said, her throat unclenching.

"Brilliant," he said. Then he took another look at her and his eyes widened. "You're Gwen Browning."

He knows my name! Gwen thought. Her inner schoolgirl giggled. Then she felt guilty. Aiden waited for her back in their room. Handsome, intelligent, kind Aiden. Confusion followed the guilt. He knows my name, she thought again.

"Uh, who are you, and how do you know who I am?" Gwen said.

"Oh, right. How rude of me. I'm Ben Somersby. I'm a journalist with the Reuters affiliate in London."

"London, England?" Gwen said, again falling under the spell of that accent, images of Big Ben dancing through her head.

He quirked his eyebrow at her. "No. London, Ontario."

"Sorry?" Gwen said. She knew how stupid she must sound at the moment, but she couldn't wrestle her mind away from the gushing schoolgirl part of herself.

"Ontario. It's in Canada. That big place north of the place you're from," Ben said, still smiling politely.

"I know where Canada is!" Gwen said, her indignation helping her recover from her swoon. English people always thought they were so posh and smart and better than you. "I'm surprised you're not calling it part of the colonies."

His smile faltered. "Can we start over? I feel as though we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Ben Somersby, journalist. My office sent me to cover your engagement."

"Why?" Gwen said.

"I should think because Aiden Manning and his company are worth an incredible sum of money. Also because Carbide Solutions owns a considerable stake in my newspaper."

Another journalist. Just what Gwen wanted at that moment. Flashbacks of running from the paparazzi in New York filled her head. Except she didn't think Ben Somersby was like that. He had that disarming smile, that charming accent. And there was no hint of that skeeze that hung like a miasma around those tabloid reporters and photographers.

"So you're only allowed to say nice things then, I take it?" Gwen said.

Ben ran his fingers through his stubble. "Not the hard hitting investigatory journalism I'm used to, I admit. Why? Is there something going on here I'm not allowed to report?"

He meant it as a joke, but it still cut right into Gwen. It made her recall Judith's threat, her parents' dysfunctional relationship, and her current efforts to smooth everything over. And she definitely didn't need some journalist digging into all that right then. Not even a handsome English one.

"No, no, of course not," Gwen said.

Ben's eyes twinkled and she knew he didn't believe her. Still, he had the tact not to mention it. "Very well, then. I was actually on my way to find you in any case, so this is a happy meeting. I'd like to arrange, at your earliest convenience of course, an interview with you and your husband-to-be."

Aiden. I need to talk to Aiden, Gwen realized. "Not right now. We're in the middle of celebrating our engagement."

"Oh, right. No hurry, I suppose. Soon, then?"

"Yes, soon," Gwen said, trying to sidle away from the conversation, hoping he took the hint.

"Lovely meeting you, by the way," Ben said, offering his hand.

"What? Oh, right. You too," sticking out her hand for the perfunctory shake.

He gave her three solid pumps, his fingers totally enfolding hers, before letting go.