Mr Spencer(2)

I watch him for a moment as he laughs freely, and I smile to myself. He looks like fun. Devilishly handsome and clearly older than me, he has fair hair that is slightly longer on the top. His jaw is square, and his cheeks are creased with dimples.

I wonder who he is.

I continue to look around the room, but my eyes keep coming back to him. He’s telling a story and being all animated, using his hands to enhance his tale, and the three people he is with are all laughing loudly. A man walks past him, slaps him on the back and says something, and then they all laugh again. I sip my champagne, lost in thought.

Hmm.

I look over to the door and then glance at my watch. It’s 10:40 p.m. I can’t go home yet, it’s too early. Honestly, I would rather have my teeth pulled than come to these events.

My eyes drift back to the interesting man, only this time I see that he’s looking down my way. I snap my eyes away guiltily. I don’t want him to know that I noticed him. I sip my champagne and stare back out over the crowd again, pretending to be busy.

Lara finishes her conversation and eventually turns back to me.

“Who is that man over there?” I ask.

She frowns as she looks around. “Who?”

“The guy on the top level.” I glance over and see he is still staring down my way. “Don’t look now because he is looking right at us,” I whisper.

“Where?”

“He’s up on the top level talking to the pregnant woman.”

“Oh.” She smiles her sneaky smile. “That’s Julian Masters. He’s a judge. Damn fine specimen, isn’t he? He was widowed once.”

I glance up in time to see one man placing his hand on the woman’s pregnant stomach before he kisses her on the cheek as she smiles lovingly up at him. “That must be his new wife,” Lara mutters, curling her lip in disgust. “Lucky bitch.”

“I’m not talking about that guy. I mean the blond man,” I tell her.

She glances back up and her face falls. “Oh. That’s…” She narrows her eyes and she thinks for a moment. “Yeah, that’s Mr Spencer. Don’t even bother looking at him.”

“Why not?” I frown.

“Most eligible bachelor in London. An appalling rake.” She raises an eyebrow. “He’s loaded from what I hear, and I don’t mean his wallet is loaded.”

My eyes widen. “Oh.” I bite my bottom lip as my eyes find him across the crowd again. “How do you know that?” I whisper, my eyes unable to leave him.

“Page two of the gossip pages, and he’s on the tip of every single woman’s tongue in London. I do mean literally.” She links her arm through mine. “He’s a look but don’t touch kind of man. Don’t even think about it.”

“Of course,” I whisper, distracted. “I wouldn’t.”

“He’s probably seeing ten women at the moment. He dates power types. CEOs, fashion designers, models, women like that.”

“Oh, I…” I shrug. “He’s very good looking, that’s the only reason I asked. I’m not interested in him or anything.”

“Good, because he’s heartbreak dressed in a hot suit.” She inhales sharply as she visually drinks him in. “He’s most definitely fucking delicious, though, isn’t he?”

I glance his way again and I smile. Why are all the hot ones always players?

“Yep.” I sigh as I drain my glass. “He sure is.”

“Let’s go back and talk to that nice guy. The poor man has been chasing you for months.”

I glance back over at the guy and wince. “Let’s not.” I grab another champagne from a passing tray. “What the hell is his name anyway?”





Spencer


“Do you want a drink, sweetheart?” he asks as he drops his hand to her pregnant stomach. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, thinking we can’t hear.

Bree widens her eyes at my best friend. “I’m fine, Julian. Will you stop worrying?”

Sebastian and I exchange looks with a roll of our eyes. Good God, what has she done with my best friend and who is this imposter standing in his place?

“I’ll have a lemonade please.” Bree smiles.

“Don’t leave her alone for a minute.” Julian points to Seb and me before walking off through the crowd.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. God, Bree, you must be sick to death of him. He’s like a fucking rash.”

Bree giggles. “He’s pretty full on.”

I smile at the wonderful woman in front of me. She has transformed my best friend Julian Masters’ world, and I adore her for it.

Julian reappears through the crowd with the drinks, and I glance down and see a woman in a pink dress. I’ve never seen her before.

“Who in God’s name is that?” I ask as I study the perfect specimen.

“That’s Lady Charlotte,” Julian answers.

“Lady?” I frown. “She has a title?”

“Her father is the Earl of Nottingham.”

“Really?” I reply, fascinated.

“Don’t bother perusing that one. She is well and truly out of your league, old boy.” Julian takes a sip of his beer. “Her blood is too blue, even for you.”