Mr Spencer(19)

I hate that she thinks that this is about her. This isn’t about her, it’s about me and what I can’t be.

If I go there, eventually I’ll fuck it up. I know I will, and I can’t stand the thought of that.

It’s best to just leave it as it stands. I can’t see her again.

I exhale heavily at the depressing thought, and I stare out of the window, feeling like shit.

“Fuck’s sake, snap out of it.” Masters groans.

“Whatever.” I sigh, tucking into my breakfast again.

It’s going to be a long day.





Charlotte


Lara falls into the seat opposite me. “Good Lord, I need a strong drink. Can you buy it by the bottle here?” She sighs.

I smile and sip my wine. “What happened?”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Ugh, where do I start?” She holds her finger up. “Oh, I know, let’s start with the fact that there was a pubic hair on my desk this morning when I got to work.”

“What?” I gasp.

“That stupid wench from accounts is fucking somebody, and she’s doing it on my desk.”

I put my hand over my mouth and stifle a laugh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She frowns, horrified. “I called the other girls into my office and we all agreed that the hair was definitely pubic. We had a two-hour discussion over it.”

My eyes widen. “What did you do?”

“Disinfected the hell out of everything, and then put a complaint into management.”

“I have no words.”

She shakes her head in disgust. “I do. Get a fucking room.” She pours herself a glass of wine, but she’s so distracted that it sloshes over the side. “It’s disgusting. Now everywhere I look in the office, I imagine her huge hairy vagina has been on it, getting pummelled.” She sticks her fingers down her throat to fake vomit. “Oh, and don’t even get me started on the kitchen. I’m never eating my lunch on that table again.”

I tip my head back and laugh. God, Lara is really riled up about this.

“Anyway.” She shakes her head. “How was your weekend?”

“Good.” I shrug, and I feel a little sadness creep back in. I’ve been bummed all weekend over Spencer not wanting me. I’m embarrassed and I wish the whole nightmare hadn’t happened.

She sips her wine and watches me. “What is that look?”

“I saw Spencer last week.”

She frowns. “What? Where?”

“He came to my work.”

“Spencer Jones? The Spencer from the other night? The one you kissed at the wedding?”

I nod with a sad smile.

Her mouth falls open and she leans against the table. “What did he want?”

“We went out for dinner.”

“What? Like, on a date?”

I nod and try to hide my smile. “He had the day off, and he waited outside work for me to finish.”

She sits back in her seat. “Holy shit.”

I shrug. “So, yeah, that happened.”

She frowns. “What exactly happened?”

“Nothing.”

Her eyes widen. “Charlotte... I am all for you finally going on a date and all, but with him? We both Googled him last week when you kissed him, remember?”

I twist my lips.

“He’s a total womaniser.” She tuts.

“I know that. I won’t see him again, don’t worry. It was just nice to do something out of the ordinary, you know?” I am not telling Lara the rest of the story. She just wouldn’t understand.

“You’re just bored.” She sighs. “And I want you to break free, I really do.”

I smirk.

“To be honest, it’s time you broke out of Edward’s reign,” she continues.

Lara hates the way that Edward tries to control me, to the point they have had many an argument. I think they secretly like each other but would never admit it.

“Edward is…” I shake my head as I try to articulate my thoughts. “He’s at the height of his controlling phase.”

“Ha, what’s new?”

“William came home this week and Edward called Penelope a whore. They had a huge fight, and William took off back to Switzerland.”

“Penelope is a whore.” She screws up her face. “I wish she’d gone back to Denmark with that German she was fucking,” she adds. “If she just left William back then, he would be over her by now. Maybe he’d finally be with someone deserving.”

“I know, she makes me sick.” I sigh.

A comfortable silence falls over us, until Lara smiles at me, something clearly on her mind.

“What?”

“Why don’t you move to London?”

“Lars.” I sigh. “When are you going to give up on this?” She’s been trying to talk me into moving for about eighteen months now.

“Never.” She takes my hands across the table. “It’s not like you can’t afford it. Your trust fund is bigger than the English reserve bank. Look, just move there for six months, date gorgeous men, have fun, meet new people. Elizabeth is in London, and you can go out and meet new people.”