Mr Spencer (Mr. 2) - Page 45
I wince. “There are some things that need to be taken care of in London, and I thought…” I twist the edge of my shirt between my fingers. “I thought now was a good time to go, while you’re away, so I can spend some time with Elizabeth. It’s just for a week or two.”
“Can’t it wait until we get home? I worry about you being in London on your own.”
“I know, Dad.” I bounce my leg as guilt fills me.
“I could come and stay in London with you when I get home, if that’s what you want? I don’t mind.”
“Ah.” Why does he have to be so damn nice all the time? “No. If I go alone then I’ll be home when you get home and we can spend some time together where I don’t have to work.”
He remains silent, and I know I haven’t convinced him yet.
“I’ll take the guards, of course.”
“Have you spoken to them?” he asks cautiously. “It may not suit them to go to London.”
“I have, and they’re both fine to come along. I’ll book them into the room next to mine.”
“I’ll speak to Edward,” he says sharply.
“Dad.” I sigh. “You know Edward won’t want me to go.”
“Only for your own safety, Charlotte. You are my most prized possession, and if anything happened to you...” His voice trails off. “You are a target now, love.”
“I won’t take stupid risks, Dad, and I’ll take the boys with me everywhere I go. I’m just going to be working through the day and going out to dinner with the girls at night. Nothing extreme.””
He inhales sharply.
“Please, I need some time with my girlfriends.” An unexpected wave of sadness rolls over me, because it really is true. “I’m lonely, Dad. I’ll go crazy locked up here at the house alone for six weeks.”
“I’ll speak to Edward.” He sighs.
“Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I hear the rustling of papers, and I imagine him sitting at his large mahogany desk, ruling the world from New York. “When do you want to go?”
“I have to be there for Monday
, so I will go on Saturday, if that’s okay.”
“And where will you be staying?”
“I booked the Four Seasons penthouse so that I’m the only room on the entire floor. Nobody will be able to get in without a key.” I smile to myself. “See, I really do listen to you.”
“Okay.” He inhales again, and I can imagine him leaning back in his chair. “Are you really all right, Charlotte?”
My eyes fill with tears, because I honestly don’t know if I am. “Missing Mum,” I confess in a whisper.
“Me, too, darling. Me, too.”
We stay silent on the line, both lost in our own grief.
I smile sadly. “Thanks, Dad. I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I love you, dear. Sleep well.”
After hanging up, I make my way to the kitchen and put the kettle on. That wasn’t a hard phone call, after all. However, the next one definitely will be, and if I know anything for certain, it’s that Edward will call me in approximately fifteen minutes and begin freaking out.
My phone begins to vibrate on the kitchen bench, the name Edward lighting up the screen. Five minutes—a new record time.
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