Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

From out in the hall, I hear someone say, “What the hell is going on, Charlotte? Have you seen the headlines?” Edward appears from around the corner, and just like his father before him, his face falls when he sees me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps.

Unable to help it, I smile sarcastically. “Nice to see you again, Edward.”

“Go to Hell.”

“Edward, please,” Charlotte whispers. “I wanted him to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with him.” She takes my hand in hers. “We… we’re… we are in love,” she splutters nervously.

Harold gasps, clearly shocked, and I have to fight the urge to smile again.

Edward’s features curl together in disgust. “Don’t insult my intelligence now, Charlotte. You’ve known him for a week.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ve known him for much longer.”

Edward’s cold eyes meet mine, filled with contempt. “I warned you to stay away from her.”

“And I told you it’s none of your business. The only person I will answer to is Mr Prescott.” I nod at Charlotte’s father in acknowledgement.

Harold raises his chin as he watches the two of us carefully.

Charlotte picks up her father’s hand. “Can we have some dinner, Dad, and talk about this… please?”

My anger boils seeing her having to beg on my behalf.

I don’t want to have dinner here. I don’t want her to have to beg for me to be accepted.

They don’t even fucking know me.

Fuck them.

Harold’s eyes hold mine, and then he turns to her. “Of course, dear.” He kisses her hand. “I have missed you so much.” He turns and leads her up the hallway.

Edward and I stare at each other until he takes a step forward. “You may have her fooled… but you don’t fool me.”

I raise my eyebrow and smile. “It’s a good thing that I’m not sleeping with you then, isn’t it?”

“You fucking prick.” He loses control and pushes me hard in the chest.

“Hit me.” I smile. “I dare you.”

He pushes me again, and I grab the lapels of his shirt. “Stay out of my fucking way,” I growl into his face.

“Oh, I’m in your fucking way, all right.”

“Edward!” Harold calls from the other room, as if he knows exactly what is about to happen. “Here. Now!”

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.

“Spencer?” Charlotte calls. “Can you come here, please?”

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.