Mr Spencer(49)

“Of course. I’ll go sit down and wait for you over there.” He gestures over to the table we are sitting at.

“I’ll see you in a moment.”

I walk out through the foyer and into the bathroom. I push into a cubicle and sit on top of the closed toilet seat.

Regret, annoyance, and disappointment curse through me, all rolled into one stupid lead ball that sits in the base of my stomach.

Part of me wants to go home right now. My night is ruined, all because of one snide comment from Alex, even though I know he was only trying to be a good friend and look out for me.

I hate that Spencer has this reputation. I hate that everyone knows it, and I hate that I enjoy his company as much as I do.

His friends were so nice.

I exhale heavily as I try to come to grip with the reality of who Spencer is. No matter how honest he is, everyone has already made their judgements on his reputation. I don’t feel that the two sides of Spencer correlate at all, at least not in my mind.

I finish up in the bathroom; wash my hands, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror, giving myself a silent pep talk.

Go out there and finish the night. Just put the information to one side and process it tomorrow once you’re at home.

I reapply my gold lipstick.

I wish I was here with Spencer… and that nobody else knew who the hell he was.





Spencer


I stare at her from across the room. She’s sitting with him, laughing, talking, completely in her comfort zone with the table full of London’s aristocratic society. She’s one of them, and I can’t seem to connect the sweet, innocent girl I’m attracted to to the Charlotte Prescott she is.

I wish she wasn’t one of them, and just a normal girl from Nottingham instead.

“You can’t take your fucking eyes off her for a moment, can you?” Seb sighs.

I sip my beer. “Nope.”

“How is this going to go?” Masters frowns. “She isn’t allowed to be seen even talking to you. What exactly do you think is going to happen here, Spence?”

I roll my eyes and exhale heavily, choosing not to answer that particular question.

The music grows louder, and people flock to the dance floor now that the formalities are officially over.

I haven’t spoken one word to Charlotte since Alexander dragged her away from me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out to read the message. It’s from her.

Hi





I smile and text back.

Hi.





She replies.

Meet me at the bar?





“She’s texting me as we speak.” I smirk to my friends, and then, without thinking, I stand and make my way to the bar as she requested.

She appears beside me a moment later, and my heart flutters in my chest.

“Hello.” She smiles up at me, her face full of hope.

“I don’t like you here with him,” I tell her honestly.

“We’re just friends, I promise.” She glances over at Alexander who is talking to a group of people, while we are shielded from the crowd. “You and Alex don’t get along?” She makes it sound like a statement and a question.

“Not at all. It started with work a few years back. Since then, we’ve had a few run-ins with each other over the years. He doesn’t get on with Masters or Seb, either.”

“Masters?”

“Julian. His last name is Masters. He had a run in with Alex at work, too.”

“What does Julian do?”

“He’s a judge.”

“Oh.” She frowns.

“He will warn you away from me, no doubt,” I mutter into my drink. “Apparently I’m the devil.” I raise my eyebrow in a silent dare.

Defend him to me. See what happens.

She stares at me for a moment, and I have no idea what she’s thinking.

Have I misjudged this whole thing with us?

“We haven’t spoken about you at all,” she tells me.

My eyes hold hers and I know that she’s lying. He did warn her away from me, and God, I would like to rearrange his face for his efforts. Unfortunately, I’m a lover not a fighter.

What I should do is let my friend Joshua Stanton take care of him instead. Joshua cage fights… for fun. That bastard is mean as shit.

“I’d like to see you alone.”

Her eyes hold mine. “I’d like that, too.”

“I can come to you. Tonight?” I offer.

She frowns again, her mind going into overdrive.

“Give me a key to your room, Charlotte. I’ll wait for your guards to leave and sneak in. They won’t even know I’ve been. We can have coffee and dessert.” I shrug. “We can just talk…”

Her chest rises and falls heavily.

I can almost hear her brain ticking.

She glances over to the side of the ballroom, and I follow her gaze, only to see Wyatt standing silently, his back against the wall. I hadn’t even noticed him, I was too preoccupied with York.

“They will see me give you the key,” she whispers. “And how will I get into my room when I get home?”

“Leave the key somewhere here for me to pick up without being seen, and then just ask them for another key at reception when you get there. Tell them you left it in the room.”