Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

Before I can second-guess my decision to talk to her, we jump in the lift and travel downstairs. The elevator doors eventually open and Sheridan comes into view with her back to me and Anthony. She’s wearing black Capri pants and a black fitted top.

Still a power outfit, and worse than that, still fucking amazing.

She turns to face me, and her eyes find mine. Unable to help it, she tilts her chin in disapproval.

She holds out her hand to me. “My name is Sheridan.”

“I know who you are.” I look at her blankly and walk past her, through the hotel, towards the bar. I hear her huffing behind me.

That was so rude of me not to shake her hand, but she can go to Hell. I hate this woman with a passion.

We get to the terrace and she gestures to a table. “Shall we sit here?”

“That depends. Are you going to drop to your knees and try and go down on me to get your own way?”

Her eyes hold mine. “Well, well.” She smirks, and I know I’ve surprised her. “You don’t have the right equipment for me to want my own way with you.” She pulls the chair out and takes a seat.

“What do you want?” I snap as I sit down.

She smiles and puts her hand up for the waitress, who immediately comes over. “I’ll have a Martini on the rocks.” She turns her attention to me. “What do you want?”

“Same. Whatever.” I’m too angry to string two words together.

“What type of Martini would you like, Miss?” The waiter asks me.

“I’ll have mine perfect and she’ll have hers dirty.”

Sheridan’s face falls for just a second before she throws her head back and laughs sharply.

“Oh, that’s a good one. And so fitting. I do actually prefer a dirty Martini.”

I roll my eyes, unimpressed. “Of course, you do.”

The waiter leaves us in peace, and I glare at her. Her long dark hair is down, and she has the perfect bone structure. She really is beautiful. “What do you want?” I ask.

“I want to

talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because someone that I love is hurting.”

“I bet you’ve been there to mop up his tears.”

She smirks and raises a brow. “I have, actually.”

Our eyes are locked and suddenly we are alone in the world, the sky is suddenly red with my rage, and she is my only target. “Of course, you wouldn’t miss the chance to race in like a knight in shining armour and save the day.”

A cold smile crosses her lips. “I’m more like Lady Godiva.”

Bitch.

Our drinks arrive, and I take a bit sip of mine. Ugh, I hate these things. I hate her, too, so I guess the drink is fitting.

“So, you flew all the way out here to tell me that you slept with Spencer this week?” I ask.

“No.” She reaches into her pocket. “I flew all the way here to give you this.” She holds out her hand and holds up a memory stick.