Mr Spencer (Mr. Book 2)

“Who was that?”

“Edward.” I rearrange the napkin on my lap, trying to calm myself. “They’ve seen the story, I have to go home.”

“We’ll go this weekend,” he says flatly.

I frown. We?

“No, that’s okay, you can come up at the weekend to see me.” I pull my fingers through my hair, trying to sound casual. “I’m going to head back tonight.”

His eyes hold mine. “No.”

“What do you mean… no?”

“You’re not going on your own.”

“Spence,” I sigh. I need to go and see them alone first. I don’t need him coming in like a bull in a China shop. He’ll ruin everything.

“This is my mess, Charlotte. I’ll be the one to clean it up.”

“Spencer, I want to see them alone first.”

“That’s not happening.” He clenches his jaw and stares at me. “You stay in London and I’ll go alone.”

“What?” Has he gone mad? “You’re not going alone. We haven’t even discussed this.”

“We’re discussing it now. I go with you, or I go alone.” He stands, and without another word, he walks off to the bar.

I begin to hear my frantic heartbeat in my ears, what a mess. My worst nightmare is for him to go there and face them alone. He has no idea who he’s dealing with here. I just want to keep them apart so I can live in peaceful denial for the rest of my life.

Spencer orders two drinks and returns to the table. He hands me a glass of wine and I glance down at his.

Scotch. Gone are the cocktails and fun drinks, he’s back onto the hard stuff. I exhale heavily, unfortunately life is back to the hard stuff.

Spencer grabs the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. He rests his hand on my lap under the table, and I force a smile his way.

“I don’t want you to fight with them,” I whisper.

“I don’t want to fight with them, either.”

“I think it’s better if I see them alone first.”

He sips his scotch and then swirls it around in his glass. “And I told you the answer is no. I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this. The story is about me, let me defend myself. Why should you take all the heat alone?” He squeezes my thigh in reassurance. “Why wouldn’t you want me to deal with them?”

My eyes search his. “I’m terrified that they are going to scare you away,” I whisper.

He puts his drink down and takes my face in his hand. “Angel, I will not be forced from your life against my will. Not by anyone. You are the only person who can end what we have.”

“Promise?”

“I don’t need to, you already know it’s true.” He kisses me. “Don’t you?”

I smile softly, knowing he’s right. I do know he wouldn’t cower to Edward like everyone else.

Spencer Jones may be a lot of things, but a coward isn’t one of them.

“Do you love me?” he asks.

I nod.

“So, trust me. Tonight, we deal with your brother, whether he likes it or not.”

He makes it all seem so simple.

“Okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Okay.”

I’m freshly showered and dressed back in my sensible clothes—black Capri pants and a cream woollen jumper that sits off my shoulders. My hair is in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing black ballet flats. Gone are my sundresses from Santorini, along with any relaxation I had while I was there. My father and Edward have cut their trip short by two weeks to come home, and I know they mean business. Spencer is upstairs getting ready while I am sitting at the kitchen counter of his apartment, looking at the stories on my laptop.

The more I read, the sicker I feel.

Every tabloid has reported us over the weekend. There’s headline after headline about how the love rat Spencer Jones has struck again, how he will break my heart, how he is after my money, how there’s a huge Prescott family divide.

How he has been pursuing me for months. It’s complete rubbish. I didn’t even know him months ago.

I know my family will have read all these stories, and what hurts the most is the niggling little voice in my psyche screaming at me to listen to the warnings.

What if it’s all true?

It’s not. I know Spencer. I love Spencer.

This is what they do. They poison your thoughts with false stories.

My mind is in overdrive. I have no idea what’s going to happen tonight when I walk into my father’s house with Spencer in tow. I don’t know whether to call my father and pre-warn him, but then they’ll be ready and they’ll attack him with all guns blazing.

I’m confused what way is the right way to go about this. I still think it would be better if I went alone. But Spencer won’t allow it. What the heck happened in his office that day when he kicked Edward out, anyway? I want to know what was said, word for word. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I try to calm myself down.

“You ready?” Spencer asks.

I look up to see him dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, and a tie.

“You’re wearing a suit?” I ask.

He smooths his tie and shoves his hand into his pocket. “I feel more comfortable in a suit.”

My heart drops. What he means is that he feels more equipped to fight in a suit. “You said you didn’t want to fight with them?”

“And I don’t.”

“So why are you wearing a suit?”

“I’m not taking any shit tonight, Charlotte.”

“They’re my family, Spence.”

“I know that. But they need to know that you’re my future and you won’t be kept from me. I won’t stand for it.”

“Promise me you won’t fight with them.”

He picks up his keys. “Let’s go.”

“Spencer, promise me.”

His eyes meet mine. “I can’t do that. Let’s go.” Without another word, he walks towards the front door. I stare at the kitchen counter for a moment with my heart hammering hard in my chest.

Please let this go well.

Two hours later, we pull up at the large stone gates of my father’s estate, and Spencer punches in the security code. It was so long ago that he was here. How on earth does he even remember it? Wyatt and Anthony are in the car behind us, and I know they are feeling my nerves right along with me.

Their heads are about to roll, too.

The gates slowly open. “Main house?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Yes.” I nod and stare down at my hands in my lap. We’ve said two words to each other on the whole trip here. Actually, we’ve said five. He asked me if I needed the bathroom when he stopped for petrol. It’s like he was already angry before he even got here.

I have a bad feeling about this. “Just let me do the talking,” I say.

Spencer’s jaw clenches as he looks through the windshield.

I watch him. “Spence? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you. I didn’t agree with you, that’s all.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t fight with them. In time, they’ll calm down and be reasonable. If you fight with them tonight, you’ll start a war and I’ll be so mad with you.”

His tongue comes out and trails over his bottom lip.

He’s arrogance personified.

“I mean it, Spence. Please, for me. Don’t fight with them.”

He reaches over and picks up my hand to kiss my fingertips, his eyes still glued to the road.

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Because I’m not promising you anything.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, let’s turn around and go home then. I don’t even want to go in if you have this attitude. This is my family, of course they are worried. How do you expect them to react to these magazine stories?” I snap. “I’m not exactly thrilled about them myself.”

He tilts his chin to the sky in defiance and gives a subtle shake of his head.

“What?” I snap.

“And there it is. You haven’t even seen them yet and already you’re beginning to side with them.”

“I’m not,” I snap angrily.

He smirks. “Whatever you say.” He pulls in and parks the car. My heart begins to thump hard in my chest. I grab his hand and look over at him as panic begins to set in. Is he right? Are they going to change the way I see this?

“I love you,” I whisper.

His dark eyes hold mine. “Prove it.” He gets out of the car and slams the door. I close my eyes.

Fuck.

Spencer

I open Charlotte’s car door and nearly rip the damn thing from its hinges.

I’m fucking furious.

Get your fucking arse back to Nottingham.

Nobody gets to speak to Charlotte like that.

Nobody.

I take her hand and drop my head. I can hardly look her in the eye.

“No fighting,” she whispers again. I glance over to Wyatt and Anthony who are parking in the bay beside us.

I inhale through my nose to try and calm myself as Charlotte walks up to the front door and slowly opens it.

“Hello!” she calls. “I’m home.”

“Darling.” I hear a man’s voice greet her. “Edward, Lottie’s home.” The man comes around the corner, and the second he sees me, his face falls. He’s an older man, obviously her father. He’s good looking, too—distinguished and wreaking of money.

Charlotte looks between us. “Dad, this is Spencer,” she whispers nervously.

I nod. “Hello.” I force a smile and put my hand out. “Spencer Jones.”

He shakes my hand, his face expressionless. “I know who you are,” he replies flatly. “Harold Prescott.”

We stare at each other.

“Dad,” Charlotte whispers. “I want to speak to you alone, please.”

“Not now, Charlotte.”

From out in the hall, I hear someone say, “What the hell is going on, Charlotte? Have you seen the headlines?” Edward appears from around the corner, and just like his father before him, his face falls when he sees me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps.

Unable to help it, I smile sarcastically. “Nice to see you again, Edward.”

“Go to Hell.”

“Edward, please,” Charlotte whispers. “I wanted him to meet you.”

“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.”

I glare at Edward as I swirl my Scotch around in my mouth. I get an image of myself diving over the table and strangling him ‘til he turns blue.

Charlottes face falls. “He’s not a cad, and I’m in love with him.”

Harold rolls his eyes. “You are not in love, Charlotte, you are in lust. He’s your first boyfriend. There is a big difference, darling.”

“You’re wrong,” I tell him. “We are very much in love.” I reach into my inner pocket of my suit coat and take out the folded piece of paper in there, handing it over to Harold.

He narrows his eyes, opens it and begins to read.

“What’s that?” Edward whines.

“It’s a prenup of sorts,” I reply. “A co-habitation agreement.”

Charlotte’s face falls as her eyes search mine.

“What?” Edward roars, standing immediately. His chair falls back and hits the floor with a thud. “Over my dead fucking body are you moving in here.”

“Charlotte’s moving to London with me.” I take a sip of my scotch. “Tonight,” I add.

Edward’s eyes narrow and he marches across the room and stands over me.

“Edward, stop it,” Charlotte whispers. “Dad, do something.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Charlotte. He’s a player, and he’s using you,” Edward seethes.

I lose my grip on my temper. “For what?” I yell. “I’m in love with her. How is that using her?”

“Her bank balance is an incredible incentive, isn’t it, Mr Jones?” He sneers.

“I don’t want your goddamn money. It’s there in black and white in that contract.” I gesture to the contract in Harold’s hands. “I’m successful all on my own, and I have enough money for both Charlotte and I to live forever without touching a penny of your inheritance.” I stand angrily. “I didn’t come here to justify my character. I do, however, have some serious doubts about yours. Tell me, Edward, why is it you travelled halfway across the world to see me, but not once did you contact your sister to see how she was?”

He narrows his eyes.

“She is not a fucking possession. She is a beautiful woman who deserves to be loved, and I will not allow you to keep her here as your trophy for one minute longer,” I yell as I completely lose control.

“Wyatt!” Charlotte calls, sensing that this is about to get out of hand.

Harold frowns at what I’ve just said.

I turn to Harold. “She is a prisoner of your fucking bank balance!” I yell.

Edward pushes me, and I quickly grab the lapels on his shirt.

“Edward!” Harold yells, standing abruptly.

“Stop it!” Charlotte cries. “Stop it, both of you.”

Wyatt and Anthony appear and run to break us up.

“You’re both fucking fired!” Edward yells to them as they drag him back from me. “How did you let this happen?” He breaks free from their grip. “You were supposed to guard her from men like him.”

I suck air into my lungs and glare at him. Contempt for him drips from my every pore. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone as much. I step back and straighten my suit.

“Anthony and Wyatt, you work for me now,” I tell them breathlessly. “You guard Charlotte for me. To hell with this Prescott bullshit. They can stick their precious money up their arses.”

Harold’s face falls.

“Let me tell you this,” I say. “I’m in love with Charlotte. I’m marrying Charlotte, with or without your permission. Get used to it.”

I turn and take Charlotte’s hand. “We’re leaving.”

“Spencer,” she whispers.

“Now,” I growl.

“Don’t you fucking go anywhere with him, Charlotte,” Edward hisses. “I’m warning you.”

I turn to Edward and point at him. “Don’t you dare warn her. Nobody speaks to her like that. Do you fucking hear me? If you upset her or disrespect her in any way, I will come here and personally knock you the fuck out.”

Edward’s eyes blaze with anger.

I turn to Harold and nod. “Mr Prescott, you are welcome in my home anytime. I’m sorry that tonight didn’t go as well as Charlotte and I had hoped it would.”

“Goodbye.” I take Charlotte’s hand and lead her outside. Harold follows us. “Don’t go,” he begs her softly.

Charlotte wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, Dad, I have to.”

I shake his hand. “I will hopefully see you soon.”

He drops his eyes to the ground, unable to make eye contact with me.

I lead Charlotte out and open her car door for her. She hesitates and looks up at her father on the porch, silently begging him to accept me.

“Let’s go, angel.” I put her in the car and then drive out the gates, unable to miss the way her eyes fill with tears.

I run my hand through my hair when I see Wyatt and Anthony pull out behind me onto the road. My heart is beating so hard in my chest.

What a fucking disaster.

I grip the steering wheel with white knuckle force. I can’t believe what just happened. Why the hell do they hate me so much when they don’t even know me? Fucking Alexander York is getting a visit tomorrow. What’s he told them about me?

Charlotte begins to cry, and my stomach drops. I instantly feel like shit.

“I’m sorry that didn’t go to plan, angel.” I reach over and take her hand in mine.

Her face screws up in tears as she watches me. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She begins to really cry. “I’ll never see them now, will I?” She sobs.

“What did you want me to do?”

“Be nice, Spencer. I wanted you to be nice. You said you were going to be nice.”

“I was fucking nice. I should have knocked him out, that’s what I should have done.”

She throws up her hands in despair and begins to wail.

I roll my eyes as I drag my hand down my face. Great. Just fucking great.

Two very silence-filled hours later, and I pull into the Four Seasons. I hand the car keys to the valet. Charlotte wanted to sleep here tonight and not at my house.

She’s angry with me for fighting with them, but honestly, what was I supposed to do? What would any man do if he were under attack like that?

I hold her hand as we take the lift in even more silence. I don’t even know what to say to her to try and make this better.

I know more than anyone how much a parent’s rejection hurts.

First mine, now hers.

They don’t even know me.

We walk into the apartment, and she heads straight for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m having a drink.”

“You don’t have any scotch left.”

“I’ll go down to the bar to get some.”

“Whatever,” she replies flatly.

Whatever? For fuck’s sake. I’ll give fucking Edward whatever when I see him. He’s done exactly what he wanted to do by causing trouble between us.

I leave and head straight for the hotel bar.

“What will it be?” the waitress asks.

“I’ll have a bottle of Black Label to take away, and a scotch on the rocks for now.”

She smiles as she wipes the bar down. “Sure.”

Moments later, she hands me my drink and I sip it sadly. I go over the conversation with Edward in my head.

“You’re not going anywhere, Charlotte. He’s a player, he’s using you.”

I run my hands through my hair in disgust. I hate that I’m perceived this way.

I honestly love her.

Wyatt and Anthony walk in, and I gesture to the seats beside me.

They sit and both look at me like I just killed a man. “Don’t.” I sigh as I sip my drink.

“Where’s Charlotte?” Anthony asks.

“In bed.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I dig it out to see a private number flashing up on the screen.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Anthony says before standing and disappearing around the corner.

“Hello,” I answer.

“You hurt her, and I’ll fucking kill you,” Edward snarls. I listen for a moment and then the phone goes dead.

Adrenaline surges through my body.

Fuck me, what next?

I exhale heavily and stare straight ahead.

“Can I ask you something?” Wyatt says.

“Yeah.” I sip my scotch.

“Have you ever fucked a guy?”

I turn to him and wince. “What?”