Mr Spencer(115)

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with him.” She takes my hand in hers. “We… we’re… we are in love,” she splutters nervously.

Harold gasps, clearly shocked, and I have to fight the urge to smile again.

Edward’s features curl together in disgust. “Don’t insult my intelligence now, Charlotte. You’ve known him for a week.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ve known him for much longer.”

Edward’s cold eyes meet mine, filled with contempt. “I warned you to stay away from her.”

“And I told you it’s none of your business. The only person I will answer to is Mr Prescott.” I nod at Charlotte’s father in acknowledgement.

Harold raises his chin as he watches the two of us carefully.

Charlotte picks up her father’s hand. “Can we have some dinner, Dad, and talk about this… please?”

My anger boils seeing her having to beg on my behalf.

I don’t want to have dinner here. I don’t want her to have to beg for me to be accepted.

They don’t even fucking know me.

Fuck them.

Harold’s eyes hold mine, and then he turns to her. “Of course, dear.” He kisses her hand. “I have missed you so much.” He turns and leads her up the hallway.

Edward and I stare at each other until he takes a step forward. “You may have her fooled… but you don’t fool me.”

I raise my eyebrow and smile. “It’s a good thing that I’m not sleeping with you then, isn’t it?”

“You fucking prick.” He loses control and pushes me hard in the chest.

“Hit me.” I smile. “I dare you.”

He pushes me again, and I grab the lapels of his shirt. “Stay out of my fucking way,” I growl into his face.

“Oh, I’m in your fucking way, all right.”

“Edward!” Harold calls from the other room, as if he knows exactly what is about to happen. “Here. Now!”

Edward glares at me, and without another word he pushes me away and walks into the other room.

I exhale heavily as adrenaline courses through my veins, and I run my hands through my hair.

My blood is boiling.

“Spencer?” Charlotte calls. “Can you come here, please?”

I turn and follow her voice, walking into a large living area. The room is filled with expensive antiques. It looks more like a museum than a home.

“Let’s have something to drink.” Charlotte smiles hopefully, gesturing to the dining table for us all to sit down.

My heart swells with empathy. My poor angel.

“That would be nice.” I fake a smile and take a seat.

“Abigail!” Charlotte calls.

A middle-aged woman in a uniform appears immediately. “Yes, Charlotte.”

“May we have some drinks, please?”

“Of course. What can I get you?”

She looks around at us, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “Three scotch on the rocks, and a ….” She frowns to herself. “Make it four scotch on the rocks.”

Abigail nods. “Very well.”

Edward frowns. “You don’t drink scotch.”

Charlotte nods nervously. “I do tonight.”

“Charlotte and her guest will be staying for dinner,” Harold says.

“Yes, sir.” Abigail smiles, and with a graceful nod she disappears from the room.

Harold sits at the head of the table, Charlotte next to him, and I sit beside her. Edward is opposite Charlotte. Who the other twenty-four seats are for is anyone’s guess.

Who has a dining table this big?

Edward sits back in his seat, eyes fixed on me. “So, where did you two meet?”

“It was through work,” Charlotte immediately fires back.

What’s she doing? We didn’t meet through work.

“We’ve known each other for a long time. We’ve become good friends,” she says softly as our drinks arrive.

“Thank you.” I take my drink from the male waiter. How many staff do they have?

“It should stay that way,” Edward retorts.

I roll my lips to keep myself from getting up and hitting this fucker in the head.

“You don’t even know me,” I say calmly.

“I know I don’t like you. That’s all I need to know.”

I turn my attention to Harold. “Mr Prescott, with all due respect, I would like for Charlotte and myself to talk to you without Edward here.”

Edward slams his hand onto the table. “Go to fucking hell, this is my house.”

“And you’re acting irrational.”

Harold pinches the bridge of his nose. “Edward, enough!” he snaps.

Charlotte slides her hand into mine on my lap.

“The stories you have read in the magazines are mostly untrue,” I begin.

“Mostly.” Edward huffs. “Un-fucking-believable. You were with another woman last week in Ibiza, for Christ’s sake.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Charlotte interrupts. “Those were all lies.”

“Charlotte, you cannot be that gullible,” Edward cries. “I’ve worked too damn hard to protect you from shit like this to have your reputation ruined in an instant by a cad like him.”