Mr Spencer(92)

“Spencer is meeting us in the foyer. He has to take us up.”

“Okay.” I look out the window at the bustling streets as we drive. It all feels so surreal, that I’m with him and he’s with me when only a month ago I was completely alone and still a virgin. What a difference a month can make. Finally, we get to a tall, swanky looking building.

“This is it,” Anthony says as we pull in.

Wow, this looks nice.

Wyatt parks the car, and Spencer walks out through the large double front doors. His face lights up when he sees me. I have to stop myself from running and throwing myself into his arms.

“Hello, angel.” He smiles.

“Hi,” I beam. I hate that I can’t touch him in public yet.

“Hey, guys,” he says to the boys as he takes my bag from me.

“Hello, Spencer,” they say as they walk behind us.

We walk through a marble reception with a concierge and two doormen, making our way over and into the elevator. The door closes and Spencer immediately takes my hand in his and smiles. His eyes stay fixed on the back of the closed door.

I love that he’s so touchy with me.

The doors open on level two and he strides out with purpose.

“This way.” We walk down a corridor until Spencer stops and opens a door, handing Wyatt the keys. “This is your apartment. It has three bedrooms and everything you should need while you’re here. I sublet it. It’s one of the other resident’s staff members, but they’re out of the country for a few months,” Spencer tells them both.

Wyatt and Anthony walk in and look around.

“It’s nice.” I smile.

The boys smile, seemingly impressed with their new hangout.

“Everything is still the same. Once Charlotte and I are in for the night, you’re off duty but you should continue to be with her when she is out and about please.”

“Of course,” Anthony replies.

“Would you like to come up and go through my apartment?” he asks them.

“Please,” Wyatt says.

Spencer takes my hand again and strides back down the corridor to the elevator that’s still waiting. We ride in silence to the fifteenth floor.

We arrive at two huge black double doors. Spencer swipes his key and they click open. When he reveals his room to me, my heart catches in my throat.

Holy cow!

I look up at a mezzanine level that hangs over the main living space and I smile to myself.

The room I’m in has polished concrete floors, with a beautiful pale timber ceiling. It looks like something out of a trendy home magazine. Perhaps a ski lodge in Aspen.

“This is your house?” I ask.

He winks at me.

Wyatt and Anthony look around, back at each other, and then back to Spencer as if shocked.

“What?” Spencer smirks. “Not what you were expecting?”

“You’re rich, too?” Wyatt frowns.

Spencer smiles. “I do all right for myself.”

I bite my bottom lip to hide my stupid smile.

Spencer walks through the apartment. “I’ll give you the tour.” He holds his hand out as he walks past us. “This is the kitchen.” He points to a stainless-steel kitchen with a huge timber island bench sitting in the middle. He then points to the glass wall. “City of London, obviously.” We all peer out to see an expansive view of London before us.

Wyatt rolls his eyes, as if completely unimpressed.

Spencer chuckles. “I do love showing off my house, I have to admit.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Wyatt mutters dryly while Anthony and I giggle.

“This is the dining room.” There’s a large, rustic, oval dining table that seats ten around it. There are differently upholstered chairs there, all of which kind of match but don’t really. “Living room.” That’s a huge living area with chocolate, slouchy leather couches and a big gas fireplace sitting in the middle.

Wow.

“This is the guest bedroom.” He points to it as we walk into the hallway, and I stop in my tracks.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

The whole length of the hallway is lined with black bookshelves filled with thousands of books. It’s a lot wider than a normal hallway, and it gives off the feel of a library. It even has one of those rails with a ladder going up to the top shelves.

“You do read?” I ask in surprise.

He smirks over his shoulder, grabbing my hand to lead me along. “I told you I did. I don’t lie, Lady Charlotte,” he teases. “My office.” He continues with the tour, and I peer inside to see an office with a large mahogany desk facing the door, a big high-back, black leather office chair sitting behind it.

“Laundry, gymnasium,” he says as he points to several rooms we walk by.

I peer in and see a large room with a treadmill, rowing machine and weights. A television is mounted on the wall.

I can hardly wipe the goofy smile from my face. I thought my hotel room was nice.

It has nothing on this place.

“Upstairs.” Spencer gestures as he continues to play tour guide. We all peer up to see a floating staircase that hangs out of the wall. The bannister is nothing more than a sheet of glass.

“This place is beautiful, Spence,” I tell him.

He smiles proudly and looks around. “I do love it.”