Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“Are you okay?” Sarah frowns. “You’ve looked like shit all day.”

“Not really, I feel sick,” I lie.

“Go home.” Paul tuts. “We don’t want it.”

“Yeah, go home,” Sarah says. “We’re entitled to sick days. Just go, and we’ll tell them after you leave that you were throwing up.”

“Really?” I could go and see Spencer at work. “Is that okay?” I ask.

“Sure! Off you go.”

I can’t stand the thought of him thinking that I think he’s like his father.

I need to fix this situation right now.

I’m worried sick about this.

* * *

Half an hour later, I’m walking into Spencer’s building with Wyatt and Anthony close behind me. I read the lists of businesses in the directory in the foyer.

Universal Steel — Fourteenth floor.

We take the elevator up, and my heart beats furiously in my chest. Up until last night, I wouldn’t have thought Spencer had a temper, but now I know that he does and it’s a little scary. The doors open up to reveal a huge office space. It’s modern and decorated black and white with huge, brightly coloured abstract paintings along the walls.

The entire back wall is made of windows that overlook London.

Wow, this is something else.

Wyatt and Anthony stand by the door. I turn and give them a nervous smile. “I won’t be long.”

I walk through to the large reception area with my stomach in my throat. What if he doesn’t want to see me?

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asks.

“Yes.” I smile awkwardly. “I’m here to see Spencer Jones.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

She looks me up and down, and I raise my eyebrow. Who is this? The way she looks at me sparks something in my brain, and I hear the words leave my mouth before my filter kicks in. “Tell him that his girlfriend Charlotte is here.”

A frown crosses her forehead before she quickly recovers. “Just a moment.”

She taps a number on the phone and speaks through the headset.

“Yeah,” I hea

r Spencer’s bored voice say.

“I have a Charlotte here.” Her eyes come back to mine. “She says she’s your girlfriend.”

He exhales heavily. “Send her in.”

My stomach drops. It’s not exactly the enthusiastic response I was hoping for.

Maybe this is it?