Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“Poor fucking Edward.” He chuckles.

We suddenly fall serious as we think of the anguish our brother will be going through over this. He’ll be having a conniption from the disgrace of it all.

“He knew heartbreak was imminent for me,” I say.

“I know he did.” He sighs sadly. “He was only trying to protect us both in his own fucked up way.”

“Maybe we should have listened when we had the chance.”

Once again, we fall silent.

“Well, Charlotte,” he says with renewed purpose. “There is only one thing to do in this situation.”

“Please.” I smirk. “Tell me what that is, because I have no idea.”

“Drink all the alcohol on the island.”

He raises his glass and I smile as I lift mine to meet his. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Bottoms up.”

* * *

The afternoon sun shines through my sheer drapes. I’m in a sleepy daze.

William wasn’t joking, and he and I did practically drink all of the alcohol on the island last night.

We’ve taken it very easy today. There’s been swimming, eating, and now an afternoon nap.

I’m past being upset. Now I’m angry.

My hotel phone rings and I frown.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Hello, Miss Preston?” the concierge asks.

“Yes.”

“You have a visitor here in reception.”

“Who is it?”

“She says her name is Sheridan Myer.”

25

Charlotte

“I beg your pardon.” I sit up immediately. “What did you just say?”

“A Sheridan Myer is here to see you.”

My blood runs cold. What the hell does that bitch want?

“Please tell her that I’m not accepting visitors.”

“Just a moment.” She puts her hand over the phone, and I hear her relay my message in the background.