I wither and drain my glass dry.
Spencer turns to Sarah. “Sarah, your uncle has been wanting me to come on this date with you for years. I hit his parked car in the car park last week, and I felt so bad about it, that I finally conceded.” He smiles, and everyone chuckles. “However, had I known you were this beautiful, I would have come on this date a long time ago.”
She giggles into her wineglass nervously, and I find myself glaring at him.
Not funny, Spencer.
But it’s like that, is it?
Game on.
“Richard.” I smile. “Tell me all about you.” I squeeze his hand in mine.
Richard’s eyes light up. “Well, I work in the stock market, I’m thirty-two—”
“Thirty-two,” I gush, interrupting him. “That’s the perfect age, isn’t it? Not too old.”
Spencer looks at me, silently seething.
“How old are you, Spencer?” I smile sweetly. “I’m guessing around forty-five?”
He drains his wineglass, unimpressed, and I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile.
“Spencer is the perfect age,” Sarah coos. “I can see it in your eyes, Spencer, that you are just waiting for the right woman to come along.”
He clenches his jaw. “Or just wanting to strangle one.”
Sarah and Richard laugh on cue, and Spencer and I glare at each other across the table.
He composes himself and falls back into his role. “So you two are new friends?” he asks.
“Just this week.” Sarah smiles. “Lottie came to work with me. I’m training her up.”
“What is it exactly that you two do?” he asks as he acts fascinated.
“We’re in the mailroom,” Sarah replies.
Spencer’s eyes hold mine, and Richard picks up my hand to kiss it. My eyes flicker over to Richard in shock.
What the hell? That’s… unexpected.
I fake a smile and pull my hand out of his grip.
God, this night is a complete disaster.
Spencer’s jaw ticks and he continues to glare at me.
What is he so angry about?
I guess it could be my fake cherry popping, the fact that I’m pretending to be someone else and working in the mailroom, my tight black dress, Wyatt kicking him out of my house two weeks ago, or Richard kissing my hand. There are plenty of options really.
I pour myself another glass of wine. Alcohol is the only remedy here, so I tip my head back and take a big gulp.
“Sarah.” Spencer smiles seductively at her from across the table. “Do you like to dance?”
Her eyes light up. “I love to dance, Spencer.”
“Me, too. I can’t wait for the real music to start.”
Okay, now it’s my turn to get angry. If he dirty dances with her, I swear to God.
“Do you like to dance, Lottie?” Richard asks.
I smile sweetly. “I do.” I sip my wine. “You can tell so much about a person by the way they dance.”
Richard grins like he’s winning me over. The poor fella thinks he’s getting in here. I kind of feel bad that he’s tied up in this mess. “I’m going to the bar to get another bottle of wine for us.” I stand before they can object, and I walk to the bar and wait in line.
What do I do? What do I do? Should I leave?
I don’t want to be here if Spencer is into Sarah. Watching him with her would be my worst nightmare.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Spencer whispers behind me.
“Washing my hair, what does it look like?”
“I don’t know what kind of bitch pills you’re on tonight, but fucking cut it out.”
I turn to him and thumb my chest. “Me?” I shake my head and turn my back on him. “How about you cut it out?”
“Let’s get out of here,” he says suddenly.
I frown and look over my shoulder. “What?’
“I don’t want to be on a date with her. I only ever intended on staying for an hour.” He pulls out his phone. “Sebastian is calling me in exactly twenty minutes with my get out of here plan. Let’s go somewhere, just the two of us.” He puts his hand on my hip bone, the contact unnoticeable to anyone else because we are covered by the crowd around us.
“Are you kidding me?” I whisper. “Sarah really likes you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like her.” He squeezes my behind. “I like you.”
I swat his hand away angrily. “You’re a pig, Spencer Jones, and you’re too late. You had a chance with me, and you blew it.”
“You fucking blew it, not me!”
I turn to him, and I swear, I have never been so infuriated in my life. “I… I blew it?” I stammer. “You have got to be joking?”
“You kicked me out and didn’t call me.”
I shake my head in disgust. “You are the most unromantic jerk I have ever met.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He smirks and squeezes my hip bone. “Now, let’s leave. If Wyatt gets in my way, I’m punching his lights out. Prepare yourself for my attack.”
“Ha.” I huff. “I would like to see that. He would wipe the floor with your wimpy behind.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
I swat his hand away from my waist. “Stop touching me,” I whisper as I shuffle forward in the line.
He immediately pulls me back against him to show me who’s the boss here.
“I’m leaving in twenty minutes. Are you coming with me or not?”
“Not. She really likes you.”
“And this is why I’m leaving. She’s not my type. I have zero attraction to her.”
I glare at him, unresponsive. Spencer links our pinky fingers together and his eyes drop to my lips. “You’re my type,” he breathes.
“Next!” the barmaid calls. I break out of his grip and step forward.
“I’ll have a… erm...” My brain is completely fried from having him so close. “Can I have a…” Good grief, I can’t even string two sentences together. What is it with this man?
Spencer steps forward to rescue me. “She’ll have a bottle of Louis Roederer.” He smiles casually and leans down to whisper in my ear. “Give me your number.”
His hot breath tickles my neck and I feel goose bumps scatter my spine.
“What?” I frown and find myself staring at his big luscious lips.
“I don’t have your fucking phone number. Give it to me.”
My tingles instantly fade. “I don’t want you to call me. And stop swearing all the time.”
He rolls his eyes. “You can lie all you want about who you are to them, but don’t lie to me. Give me your number.”
The barmaid hands over the bottle and I pay her without thought. Without another word to Mr Spencer, I walk back to the table.
He’s such an asshole.
Moments later, he comes back to the table with another bottle of wine. He sits down and smiles calmly, placing his phone on the table.
My poor heart is hammering in my chest. This is devious behaviour at it’s very worst.
Sarah’s date wants me to leave with him, …and even worse than that is the fact that, I want to.
Spencer’s phone dances across the table, the name Sebastian lighting up the screen.
I roll my eyes. He has got to be kidding me.
“Hi, Seb,” he answers cheerfully. “Oh no.” His face falls as he pretends to listen. “Oh… really?”
I roll my eyes. Good grief. What next?
“Sure, yeah, I’ll come and get you now.” He listens and frowns at Sarah, shaking his head with fake annoyance.
I stare at him, deadpan. What a douche.
He ends the call. “Sarah, I am so sorry but I have to go. My friend Sebastian has driven into a ditch about half an hour out of the city, and his pregnant sister is in the car. I have to go and help them.”
Sarah’s face falls. “Oh no.”
“I’m so annoyed.” He sighs. “This was turning out to be such a great night, too.”
“What ditch?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.
“Dead Guard Ditch,” he replies without hesitation.
I sip my wine and stare at him. “Sounds creepy.”
He narrows his eyes. “It is.”
He turns his attention to Sarah. “I’m sorry, but Richard will have to take over the reins tonight.”
“That’s okay, Spence, I can handle it.” Richard smiles.
I roll my eyes yet again. It’s obvious that Richard knew all along that Spencer was leaving early.
“Will you call me?” Sarah asks Spencer.
My heart drops for her. Damn him.
“Of course. What’s your number?” he asks.