Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“Being gorgeous and whatnot.”

I bite my lip as I watch him. Lara was right, he is simply delicious.

Robert comes over to our table. “Can I take your order?”

Spencer peruses the menu, and then looks back up at me. “How far is your house from here?”

“Not far.”

“Okay, shall we have some wine?”

I nod. This feels terribly grown up for a Thursday. “Okay.”

“What’s good on the menu?” He frowns, looking over the choices.

“The Aloft Cab Sav is nice,” I whisper nervously. He makes me feel like a timid little girl.

“Okay, we’ll have a bottle, please.” He closes his drinks menu and hands it over. “We’ll order our meal in a little while, please.”

Robert walks away, and Spencer’s eyes fall to my face.

“Why are you here, Mr Spencer?” I ask him.

He smiles softly and leans towards the table, steepling his hands under his chin. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“You’re on my mind.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

I like that he wanted to see me.

Our drinks arrive and we both sit in relative silence, neither of us knowing what to say.

“How old are you, Charlotte?” he asks softly.

“I think I answered that question before. Too young for you, Mr Spencer.” I smile over at him.

“Well, I’m twenty-five,” he says seriously. “With thirteen years’ experience.”

I do the maths. He’s thirty-eight.

“And I’m twenty- four… with no experience.”

His eyes twinkle with delight. Maybe he thought I was younger than that.

We sip our drinks in an uncomfortable silence, once again.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

He frowns as he tries to articulate himself. “And you’re not secretly in love with your bodyguard?”

“Certainly not. You’ve been watching too many movies, Mr Spencer.” I laugh.

He puts his hand on his chest, faking his relief. “That’s good to hear. I can’t compete with bodyguards and shit like that.” He winks at me. “Although I do practice karate.”