Mr Spencer(105)

A picture of Spencer and me with the heading:

Bad Romeo Strikes Again.





What?

I pick up the magazine with the sound of my blood pumping hard in my ears.

How humiliating…. Bad Romeo.

“When did this magazine get released?” I ask.

The bored shopkeeper looks up. “Oh, it’s not due out until tomorrow. We got it early.”

I force a smile. “Thanks.” I pay her and storm back to the table to find Spencer sitting with our two margaritas in front of him. He smiles cheekily up at me. “Here you go, sustenance for your cock-sucking duties tonight.”

I slap the magazine on the table, and he looks down at it immediately. It takes him a few seconds to realise what he’s looking at before he frowns.

“What the hell?” I fall into the seat and flick through the pages until I get to the story.

Spencer begins to drink his margarita and watches on. Wishing he was anywhere but here.

There are about twenty images of him and me together. There’s even some of Wyatt and Anthony struggling to get the camera off of the photographer. I read the story out loud.

“Renowned Playboy Spencer Jones is at it again.

Caught with the enigmatic and fiercely private billionaire Charlotte Prescott.

The two were captured on a lunch date hand in hand on Tuesday. Once spotted, her bodyguards physically attacked photographers to try and retrieve the film.

Two days earlier Spencer was snapped with model Tiffany Boland on a yacht in Ibiza. He has also been linked in recent weeks with reality TV star May Allywell.

Charlotte Prescott is most definitely new to our radar.

We sense fireworks are coming when Daddy Megabucks finds out.

Watch this space!”





17





Charlotte


“What the fuck?” Spencer splutters, wide eyed. “They’re fucking liars. I wasn’t in Ibiza. You know this shit is made up, I was with you the whole time. And I don’t even know May Allywell.”

I glare at him.

“This isn’t my fault,” he wails.

I sit forward in my seat. “Spencer, go to the bar and get me another drink, please. Why couldn’t you just keep your fucking dick in your pants all these years?” I whisper angrily.

“Believe me, I wonder the same thing,” he splutters in a fluster as he stands. “How many drinks do you want?”

I glare at him, feeling like red steam is shooting out of my ears.

“I’ll just get the whole bottle,” he mutters under his breath.

I continue my glaring and he scurries away to the bar to escape my rage.

I inhale deeply to try and calm myself down.

This is not going to plan.





*



Three hours later, and I’m reading my book on the plane. The engine is droning out all sound. On a normal trip I would be fast asleep by now.

“Are you still angry with me?” Spencer whispers.

“I’m not angry with you,” I say, deadpan, my eyes firmly on my book. I’m not even reading, I’m too mad to see the words. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this situation to my father and Edward once they see this story. What’s worse is that this is exactly what they didn’t want to happen. I feel like a fool knowing everyone thinks he’s playing up on me, even though I know that’s not true.

“You seem like you’re angry with me. You’re not exactly being friendly. You haven’t said a word in three hours.”

I look at him deadpan. “I am allowed to be angry with a situation. The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

He widens his eyes. “Jeez.” He thinks for a moment. “Is this your PMT talking?”

I stare at him.

“I mean, what would you say to me if you didn’t have those bitch hormones running through your blood right now?”

Steam shoots from ears once more, this man can’t be that stupid, surely.

“What I would say to you is shut the hell up.”

He chuckles and lifts my hand to kiss the back of it. “You’re hot when you’re angry, Prescott.”

I exhale heavily and turn back to my book.

“You know it’s not true, right?”

“Yes.”

“So why are you still mad with me?”

“Because I look like a fool.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“But we know the truth.” He frowns.

“Nobody else does.”

He exhales heavily. “Why are you so worried about what everyone else thinks? Care about what I think.”

I stare at him for a moment. “Okay, what do you think?”

“I think these people who work for the media and the magazines are idiots, and like I told you before, half of the shit they put out there is completely fabricated.”

“A picture tells a thousand words.”

“But does it? I’ve even been photographed with Seb’s girlfriends in the past and been in the stupid tabloids for it.”

“Why do they target you? I don’t understand why they target you specifically.” I do actually. He’s gorgeous, wealthy, and has enough boyish charm to light up the world… but I’m not letting him know that.