Mr Spencer: Chapter 18
Mr Spencer (Mr. Book 2)
âWho was that?â
âEdward.â I rearrange the napkin on my lap, trying to calm myself. âTheyâve seen the story, I have to go home.â
âWeâll go this weekend,â he says flatly.
I frown. We?
âNo, thatâs okay, you can come up at the weekend to see me.â I pull my fingers through my hair, trying to sound casual. âIâm going to head back tonight.â
His eyes hold mine. âNo.â
âWhat do you mean⦠no?â
âYouâre not going on your own.â
âSpence,â I sigh. I need to go and see them alone first. I donât need him coming in like a bull in a China shop. Heâll ruin everything.
âThis is my mess, Charlotte. Iâll be the one to clean it up.â
âSpencer, I want to see them alone first.â
âThatâs not happening.â He clenches his jaw and stares at me. âYou stay in London and Iâll go alone.â
âWhat?â Has he gone mad? âYouâre not going alone. We havenât even discussed this.â
âWeâre discussing it now. I go with you, or I go alone.â 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 heâs 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, heâs 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.
âI donât want you to fight with them,â I whisper.
âI donât want to fight with them, either.â
âI think itâs better if I see them alone first.â
He sips his scotch and then swirls it around in his glass. âAnd I told you the answer is no. Iâm 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?â He squeezes my thigh in reassurance. âWhy wouldnât you want me to deal with them?â
My eyes search his. âIâm terrified that they are going to scare you away,â I whisper.
He puts his drink down and takes my face in his hand. âAngel, 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.â
âPromise?â
âI donât need to, you already know itâs true.â He kisses me. âDonât you?â
I smile softly, knowing heâs right. I do know he wouldnât cower to Edward like everyone else.
Spencer Jones may be a lot of things, but a coward isnât one of them.
âDo you love me?â he asks.
I nod.
âSo, trust me. Tonight, we deal with your brother, whether he likes it or not.â
He makes it all seem so simple.
âOkay?â he asks.
I nod. âOkay.â
Iâm freshly showered and dressed back in my sensible clothesâblack Capri pants and a cream woollen jumper that sits off my shoulders. My hair is in a high ponytail, and Iâm 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. Thereâs 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 thereâs a huge Prescott family divide.
How he has been pursuing me for months. Itâs complete rubbish. I didnât 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 itâs all true?
Itâs 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 whatâs going to happen tonight when I walk into my fatherâs house with Spencer in tow. I donât know whether to call my father and pre-warn him, but then theyâll be ready and theyâll attack him with all guns blazing.
Iâm confused what way is the right way to go about this. I still think it would be better if I went alone. But Spencer wonât 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.
âYou ready?â Spencer asks.
I look up to see him dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, and a tie.
âYouâre wearing a suit?â I ask.
He smooths his tie and shoves his hand into his pocket. âI feel more comfortable in a suit.â
My heart drops. What he means is that he feels more equipped to fight in a suit. âYou said you didnât want to fight with them?â
âAnd I donât.â
âSo why are you wearing a suit?â
âIâm not taking any shit tonight, Charlotte.â
âTheyâre my family, Spence.â
âI know that. But they need to know that youâre my future and you wonât be kept from me. I wonât stand for it.â
âPromise me you wonât fight with them.â
He picks up his keys. âLetâs go.â
âSpencer, promise me.â
His eyes meet mine. âI canât do that. Letâs go.â 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 fatherâs 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. âMain house?â he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
âYes.â I nod and stare down at my hands in my lap. Weâve said two words to each other on the whole trip here. Actually, weâve said five. He asked me if I needed the bathroom when he stopped for petrol. Itâs like he was already angry before he even got here.
I have a bad feeling about this. âJust let me do the talking,â I say.
Spencerâs jaw clenches as he looks through the windshield.
I watch him. âSpence? Did you hear me?â
âYeah, I heard you. I didnât agree with you, thatâs all.â
I roll my eyes. âDonât fight with them. In time, theyâll calm down and be reasonable. If you fight with them tonight, youâll start a war and Iâll be so mad with you.â
His tongue comes out and trails over his bottom lip.
Heâs arrogance personified.
âI mean it, Spence. Please, for me. Donât fight with them.â
He reaches over and picks up my hand to kiss my fingertips, his eyes still glued to the road.
âWhy arenât you answering me?â
âBecause Iâm not promising you anything.â
âOh, for Godâs sake, letâs turn around and go home then. I donât 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?â I snap. âIâm not exactly thrilled about them myself.â
He tilts his chin to the sky in defiance and gives a subtle shake of his head.
âWhat?â I snap.
âAnd there it is. You havenât even seen them yet and already youâre beginning to side with them.â
âIâm not,â I snap angrily.
He smirks. âWhatever you say.â 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?
âI love you,â I whisper.
His dark eyes hold mine. âProve it.â He gets out of the car and slams the door. I close my eyes.
Fuck.
I open Charlotteâs car door and nearly rip the damn thing from its hinges.
Iâm 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.
âNo fighting,â 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.
âHello!â she calls. âIâm home.â
âDarling.â I hear a manâs voice greet her. âEdward, Lottieâs home.â The man comes around the corner, and the second he sees me, his face falls. Heâs an older man, obviously her father. Heâs good looking, tooâdistinguished and wreaking of money.
Charlotte looks between us. âDad, this is Spencer,â she whispers nervously.
I nod. âHello.â I force a smile and put my hand out. âSpencer Jones.â
He shakes my hand, his face expressionless. âI know who you are,â he replies flatly. âHarold Prescott.â
We stare at each other.
âDad,â Charlotte whispers. âI want to speak to you alone, please.â
âNot now, Charlotte.â
From out in the hall, I hear someone say, âWhat the hell is going on, Charlotte? Have you seen the headlines?â Edward appears from around the corner, and just like his father before him, his face falls when he sees me. âWhat the hell are you doing here?â he snaps.
Unable to help it, I smile sarcastically. âNice to see you again, Edward.â
âGo to Hell.â
âEdward, please,â Charlotte whispers. âI wanted him to meet you.â
âWhy?â
âBecause Iâm in love with him.â She takes my hand in hers. âWe⦠weâre⦠we are in love,â she splutters nervously.
Harold gasps, clearly shocked, and I have to fight the urge to smile again.
Edwardâs features curl together in disgust. âDonât insult my intelligence now, Charlotte. Youâve known him for a week.â
âNo.â She shakes her head. âIâve known him for much longer.â
Edwardâs cold eyes meet mine, filled with contempt. âI warned you to stay away from her.â
âAnd I told you itâs none of your business. The only person I will answer to is Mr Prescott.â I nod at Charlotteâs father in acknowledgement.
Harold raises his chin as he watches the two of us carefully.
Charlotte picks up her fatherâs hand. âCan we have some dinner, Dad, and talk about this⦠please?â
My anger boils seeing her having to beg on my behalf.
I donât want to have dinner here. I donât want her to have to beg for me to be accepted.
They donât even fucking know me.
Fuck them.
Haroldâs eyes hold mine, and then he turns to her. âOf course, dear.â He kisses her hand. âI have missed you so much.â He turns and leads her up the hallway.
Edward and I stare at each other until he takes a step forward. âYou may have her fooled⦠but you donât fool me.â
I raise my eyebrow and smile. âItâs a good thing that Iâm not sleeping with you then, isnât it?â
âYou fucking prick.â He loses control and pushes me hard in the chest.
âHit me.â I smile. âI dare you.â
He pushes me again, and I grab the lapels of his shirt. âStay out of my fucking way,â I growl into his face.
âOh, Iâm in your fucking way, all right.â
âEdward!â Harold calls from the other room, as if he knows exactly what is about to happen. âHere. Now!â
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.
âSpencer?â Charlotte calls. âCan you come here, please?â
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.
âLetâs have something to drink.â Charlotte smiles hopefully, gesturing to the dining table for us all to sit down.
My heart swells with empathy. My poor angel.
âThat would be nice.â I fake a smile and take a seat.
âAbigail!â Charlotte calls.
A middle-aged woman in a uniform appears immediately. âYes, Charlotte.â
âMay we have some drinks, please?â
âOf course. What can I get you?â
She looks around at us, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. âThree scotch on the rocks, and a â¦.â She frowns to herself. âMake it four scotch on the rocks.â
Abigail nods. âVery well.â
Edward frowns. âYou donât drink scotch.â
Charlotte nods nervously. âI do tonight.â
âCharlotte and her guest will be staying for dinner,â Harold says.
âYes, sir.â 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 anyoneâs guess.
Who has a dining table this big?
Edward sits back in his seat, eyes fixed on me. âSo, where did you two meet?â
âIt was through work,â Charlotte immediately fires back.
Whatâs she doing? We didnât meet through work.
âWeâve known each other for a long time. Weâve become good friends,â she says softly as our drinks arrive.
âThank you.â I take my drink from the male waiter. How many staff do they have?
âIt should stay that way,â Edward retorts.
I roll my lips to keep myself from getting up and hitting this fucker in the head.
âYou donât even know me,â I say calmly.
âI know I donât like you. Thatâs all I need to know.â
I turn my attention to Harold. âMr Prescott, with all due respect, I would like for Charlotte and myself to talk to you without Edward here.â
Edward slams his hand onto the table. âGo to fucking hell, this is my house.â
âAnd youâre acting irrational.â
Harold pinches the bridge of his nose. âEdward, enough!â he snaps.
Charlotte slides her hand into mine on my lap.
âThe stories you have read in the magazines are mostly untrue,â I begin.
âMostly.â Edward huffs. âUn-fucking-believable. You were with another woman last week in Ibiza, for Christâs sake.â
âNo, he wasnât,â Charlotte interrupts. âThose were all lies.â
âCharlotte, you cannot be that gullible,â Edward cries. âIâve worked too damn hard to protect you from shit like this to have your reputation ruined in an instant by a cad like him.â
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 âtil he turns blue.
Charlottes face falls. âHeâs not a cad, and Iâm in love with him.â
Harold rolls his eyes. âYou are not in love, Charlotte, you are in lust. Heâs your first boyfriend. There is a big difference, darling.â
âYouâre wrong,â I tell him. âWe are very much in love.â 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.
âWhatâs that?â Edward whines.
âItâs a prenup of sorts,â I reply. âA co-habitation agreement.â
Charlotteâs face falls as her eyes search mine.
ââ Edward roars, standing immediately. His chair falls back and hits the floor with a thud. âOver my dead fucking body are you moving in here.âWhat?
âCharlotteâs moving to London with me.â I take a sip of my scotch. âTonight,â I add.
Edwardâs eyes narrow and he marches across the room and stands over me.
âEdward, stop it,â Charlotte whispers. âDad, do something.â
âYouâre not going anywhere, Charlotte. Heâs a player, and heâs using you,â Edward seethes.
I lose my grip on my temper. âFor what?â I yell. âIâm in love with her. How is that using her?â
âHer bank balance is an incredible incentive, isnât it, Mr Jones?â He sneers.
âI donât want your goddamn money. Itâs there in black and white in that contract.â I gesture to the contract in Haroldâs hands. âIâm 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.â I stand angrily. âI didnât 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 did you contact your sister to see how she was?âonce
He narrows his eyes.
âShe 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,â I yell as I completely lose control.
âWyatt!â Charlotte calls, sensing that this is about to get out of hand.
Harold frowns at what Iâve just said.
I turn to Harold. âShe is a prisoner of your fucking bank balance!â I yell.
Edward pushes me, and I quickly grab the lapels on his shirt.
âEdward!â Harold yells, standing abruptly.
âStop it!â Charlotte cries. âStop it, both of you.â
Wyatt and Anthony appear and run to break us up.
âYouâre both fucking fired!â Edward yells to them as they drag him back from me. âHow did you let this happen?â He breaks free from their grip. âYou were supposed to guard her from men like him.â
I suck air into my lungs and glare at him. Contempt for him drips from my every pore. I donât think Iâve ever hated anyone as much. I step back and straighten my suit.
âAnthony and Wyatt, you work for me now,â I tell them breathlessly. âYou guard Charlotte for me. To hell with this Prescott bullshit. They can stick their precious money up their arses.â
Haroldâs face falls.
âLet me tell you this,â I say. âIâm in love with Charlotte. Iâm marrying Charlotte, with or without your permission. Get used to it.â
I turn and take Charlotteâs hand. âWeâre leaving.â
âSpencer,â she whispers.
âNow,â I growl.
âDonât you fucking go anywhere with him, Charlotte,â Edward hisses. âIâm warning you.â
I turn to Edward and point at him. âDonât 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.â
Edwardâs eyes blaze with anger.
I turn to Harold and nod. âMr Prescott, you are welcome in my home anytime. Iâm sorry that tonight didnât go as well as Charlotte and I had hoped it would.â
âGoodbye.â I take Charlotteâs hand and lead her outside. Harold follows us. âDonât go,â he begs her softly.
Charlotte wraps her arms around his neck. âIâm sorry, Dad, I have to.â
I shake his hand. âI will hopefully see you soon.â
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.
âLetâs go, angel.â 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 canât believe what just happened. Why the hell do they hate me so much when they donât even know me? Fucking Alexander York is getting a visit tomorrow. Whatâs he told them about me?
Charlotte begins to cry, and my stomach drops. I instantly feel like shit.
âIâm sorry that didnât go to plan, angel.â I reach over and take her hand in mine.
Her face screws up in tears as she watches me. âThatâs it, isnât it?â She begins to really cry. âIâll never see them now, will I?â She sobs.
âWhat did you want me to do?â
âBe nice, Spencer. I wanted you to be nice. You said you were going to be nice.â
âI was fucking nice. I should have knocked him out, thatâs what I should have done.â
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.
Sheâs 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 donât even know what to say to her to try and make this better.
I know more than anyone how much a parentâs rejection hurts.
First mine, now hers.
They donât even know me.
We walk into the apartment, and she heads straight for the stairs. âIâm going to bed.â
I roll my eyes. âIâm having a drink.â
âYou donât have any scotch left.â
âIâll go down to the bar to get some.â
âWhatever,â she replies flatly.
Whatever? For fuckâs sake. Iâll give fucking Edward when I see him. Heâs done exactly what he wanted to do by causing trouble between us.whatever
I leave and head straight for the hotel bar.
âWhat will it be?â the waitress asks.
âIâll have a bottle of Black Label to take away, and a scotch on the rocks for now.â
She smiles as she wipes the bar down. âSure.â
Moments later, she hands me my drink and I sip it sadly. I go over the conversation with Edward in my head.
âYouâre not going anywhere, Charlotte. Heâs a player, heâs using you.â
I run my hands through my hair in disgust. I hate that Iâm 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. âDonât.â I sigh as I sip my drink.
âWhereâs Charlotte?â Anthony asks.
âIn bed.â
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I dig it out to see a private number flashing up on the screen.
âIâm going to the bathroom,â Anthony says before standing and disappearing around the corner.
âHello,â I answer.
âYou hurt her, and Iâll fucking kill you,â 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.
âCan I ask you something?â Wyatt says.
âYeah.â I sip my scotch.
âHave you ever fucked a guy?â
I turn to him and wince. âWhat?â