Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“You are a scoundrel, Mr Spencer,” she whispers.

I dip my head, pick up her hand, and I kiss the back of it. “At your service, my lady.”

Her hand stays in mine for an extended time and eventually good manners prevail. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”

She smiles. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“Back in a moment.” I walk to the bar and wait in line to order our drinks.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” someone growls from behind me.

I turn to see Alexander York. “I’m getting a drink, you idiot, what does it look like?”

“I mean what the hell do you think you’re doing talking to Charlotte Prescott?”

I turn to him as my anger begins to pump. “Charlotte is none of your concern.”

“The hell she isn’t. We’ve been family friends all of our lives, and she’s way out of your fucking league.”

Unable to help myself, I smile smugly. “What’s the matter, York? You jealous?”

“Fuck you.”

I really want to say, that’s what she’s going to do later, but I hold my tongue.

“I saw you kiss her hand. What do you think you’re doing with her?”

I turn to him, raise our two champagne glasses, and throw him a wink. “Whatever the fuck I want to.”

8

Charlotte

Spencer appears through the crowd and comes to stand beside me. He passes me my drink and we clink glasses. “Thank you.” I smile.

His glowing eyes linger on my face.

“You’re staring, Mr Spencer.” I get butterflies in my stomach when he looks at me like that.

“I know,” he whispers. “I can’t help it.”

“Hello, sorry we’re late,” a girl’s voice interrupts us from behind. I turn to see a pretty woman and a man standing beside us. She’s heavily pregnant. Actually, I think she is the one from the wedding the first time I met Spencer.

Spencer turns immediately. “Charlotte, this is Julian Masters and his wife Brielle—Bree for short.”

“Hello.” I smile nervously and shake both of their hands.

They both smile back at me, and the woman hunches her shoulders in excitement before she rubs Spencer’s.

I can tell they are very fond of each other.

“Where’s Sebastian?” Spencer asks. “Typical. He signs us up for this shit and then turns up late.”

Julian smiles. “What would you expect?” He turns to Bree. “Would you like a drink, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh.” She exhales heavily. “I would like ten glasses of champagne, actually.”

Julian raises his brow. “Lemonade then?”