Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“You did?” he asks in surprise.

“Yeah.” I sip my drink. “It was a disaster.”

“Why?”

“When he found out I was...” I hesitate, “inexperienced, he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

He scowls, confused. “Would he rather you be a stripper?”

I giggle. “Probably. Anyway… it was the push I needed to get out of Nottingham. Don’t tell Dad or Edward, but I plan on moving here permanently eventually.”

A big smile crosses his face. “You do?”

“Uh-huh.” I smile proudly.

He takes my hand across the table. “Good for you, babe. Good for you.”

* * *

“This stupid fucking prick of a machine!” Paul cries.

Sarah’s hands are in her hair and her eyes are wide. “What the fuck do we do?”

I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing because this is hilarious.

The photocopier has gone crazy, and hundreds of papers are being spit out at record speed. It won’t shut off and it won’t quit printing. It’s Wednesday, and we are supposed to be making training manuals for Veronica, but things aren’t exactly going to plan. It seems to happen a lot in this dodgy mailroom. I have never laughed so much.

“Pull the plug out,” I push out through my laughter.

“Yes,” Paul says, scrambling for the power cords. He shuts them off, and the copiers all fall silent, leaving us to stare each other for a moment.

There is paper everywhere. We have no idea what order the papers are in.

“That machine dropped some serious acid last night,” Paul grumbles.

“Seems so.” I look at the mess around us. “What do we do with all this?” I ask.

Sarah looks around, too. “Shred it. We’ll have to start again. It will take too long to sort this shit.”

Sarah’s phone rings. “Hello. Hey, Marcie…” Her face falls as she listens. “Oh no. Oh, damn it, Marcie. I’ve been waiting for this date for three fucking years.”

Paul and I exchange questioning looks. Who is she talking to?

“Yeah, I know.” Sarah sighs sadly. “That’s okay. Who the hell am I going to get to come with me?” She exhales heavily. “Fine. No, it’s okay, I’m just disappointed. I’ve been looking forward to it for months. He’ll probably cancel on me now.”

I begin to pick up the papers from the floor, while Sarah finishes her conversation and hangs up the call.

“Fucking great!”

“What’s wrong?” I frown.

“I have a double date on Saturday night, and the girl who was supposed to be coming with me has strep throat.”

“So, go alone.” Paul picks up the papers with me.

“He won’t come unless it’s a double date.”

Paul and I frown at each other. “Why not?”