Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“Get rolling drunk in hymen commiseration.”

They all burst out laughing again.

“This isn’t fucking funny!”

Charlotte

It’s Monday afternoon and I’m sitting at my computer next to my work colleagues, each of us going through our emails and paperwork for the day.

Sarah checks her phone for the fiftieth time today. “Damn it, why hasn’t he called?”

“He’s an idiot.” I sigh. “Forget about Spencer Jones, you can do a lot better.”

At least he could have called her to tell her he isn’t interested.

I hate that I like that he isn’t interested.

“What was the other guy like?” Paul asks.

“Oh, he was really nice,” I say. “And I think he liked Sarah.”

“He did not.” She sighs.

The three of us ended up having a really good time, and we danced the night away.

My email pings, the name Spencer Jones appearing in front of me.

My heart skips a beat.

I glance to the other two who are only a metre or so away from my desk.

Shit, shit, shit.

Hello Lottie,

I would have called you, but I don’t have your number.

Would you like to have dinner tonight?

Spence.

Oh my God. I quickly close the email, get up and move away from my desk.

I don’t want to be suspicious, so I scurry to the kitchen.

“Anyone want a coffee?” I ask them.

“Please,” they both answer.

I can’t believe Spencer is emailing me when I am sitting next to someone who is waiting for his call.

Good grief.

I make the coffees with my mind in overdrive, and then I take my time returning to my desk.

Just say no. Yes.

Okay, I’m just going to email him and say no. That’s easy.