“What was the other guy like?” Paul asks.
“Oh, he was really nice,” I say. “And I think he liked Sarah.”
“He did not.” She sighs.
The three of us ended up having a really good time, and we danced the night away.
My email pings, the name Spencer Jones appearing in front of me.
My heart skips a beat.
I glance to the other two who are only a metre or so away from my desk.
Shit, shit, shit.
Hello Lottie,
I would have called you, but I don’t have your number.
Would you like to have dinner tonight?
Spence.
Oh my God. I quickly close the email, get up and move away from my desk.
I don’t want to be suspicious, so I scurry to the kitchen.
“Anyone want a coffee?” I ask them.
“Please,” they both answer.
I can’t believe Spencer is emailing me when I am sitting next to someone who is waiting for his call.
Good grief.
I make the coffees with my mind in overdrive, and then I take my time returning to my desk.
Just say no. Yes.
Okay, I’m just going to email him and say no. That’s easy.
I open the email and hit reply.
Mr Spencer
I cannot think of one good reason why I should
want to go out with you. My answer is no.
Lottie.
I look left then right and hit send.
A reply hits my inbox in an instant.
Dearest Lottie,
You are mistaken
I can think of at least thirty reasons why you should go out with me.
Spencer.
Poor, conceited fool.
Mr Spencer,
Name them.
I hit send and smirk against my coffee cup.
I answer a few emails, and then another reply comes back.
Lottie,
Although I have many obvious attributes, I will
happily oblige your request.
1 – I have white teeth.
2 – I love my grandma.
3 – I bake delicious cakes.
4 – I have blonde hair like you, we could dress as twins on fancy dress.
I giggle before I catch myself.
5 – I don’t tell lies.
6 – I like naughty kittens.
I put my hand over my mouth and close the email before I laugh out loud.
This man is an idiot. Can’t he at least pretend to be cool. I head to the bathroom to try and calm myself before I go back to my desk and open the email again.
7 – I am a size 13 shoe.
You work out what that means.
I bite back my grin.
8 – I’m not scared of your brother
My heart drops, if only he knew how important that point is to me.
9 – I’m taller than you.
10 – I can’t stop thinking about you.
7
Charlotte
I quickly close the email and sit back in my chair.
He can’t stop thinking about me.
Well, the feeling is completely mutual. I’ve thought of nothing but him since Saturday night. I stare at the computer screen for awhile, wondering what to do.
He really hurt my pride the other week at my house, but worse than that, he hurt my feelings. I don’t like the power he has over me, nobody has ever had the ability to hurt me before.
But I know he could do a really good job of it… will do a good job of it.
I blow out a dejected breath. Spencer Jones may be the most fun man I’ve met in a long time, but we are better off just being friends. I already know what the future holds for us. I don’t want to be one of his harem. He made it very clear that he isn’t interested in virgins.
And even though I told him that my virginity ship has sailed…. I also know deep down in my heart that telling him I was no longer a virgin was an appalling lie, and he isn’t actually attracted to women like me.
He likes the challenge.
I would too if I were him.
God, I can’t believe that he actually thinks I may have slept with Wyatt. That’s laughable.
“Do you want to come up to level fourteen, Lottie?” Sarah asks.
“What for?” I frown.
“It’s Callam’s birthday. They‘re having cake.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and I smile.
“How old is Mr Hot Dick turning?” I ask.
“Who cares? All I know is that he’s old enough to do terrible things to my body.”
I giggle as she pulls me towards the lifts and we get inside.
“I just wish he would get with the program and do it already.” She sighs.
“You should ask Callam out?”
“Yeah.” She thinks for a moment. “Maybe I will.” She shrugs. “If I used my brain and had some foresight, I would have popped out of his birthday cake.”
I burst out laughing, getting a vision of her covered in whipped cream and popping out of a huge cake. “I don’t think level fourteen is prepared for your level of hotness, Sarah.”
“I know, right?”
*
The ceiling of my room is plastered with fancy, swirling circular shapes, and my apartment is dead quiet as I stare up at it. It’s the early hours of the morning, but I can’t sleep. I’m preoccupied with this weird feeling—one of realisation. It’s as if my eyes have finally been open to what I’m missing out on by being a Prescott.
Working, laughing, and being asked out every hour at work by gorgeous men have all made me happy—the happiest I’ve been in a long time.
And this isn’t even my life.
It’s one big fat lie.
I roll over and punch my pillow in disgust. Who am I kidding? Most people on the planet would give their right arm to have what I’ve been born into and the privileged life that I live.
I’m being ungrateful, I know I am. I mean, I do appreciate everything that I have.
I stare into the darkness as a tear rolls down my face and onto my pillow.
I feel so lost.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me? Maybe I need to go back to my grief counsellor?
Yes…that’s probably it. I’ll call and make an appointment tomorrow. I haven’t been for over a year now.
I get out of bed and walk to the bathroom to stare at my reflection in the mirror.
Big blue eyes and pale skin stare back at me. My blonde hair is in a high messy bun, and I’m wearing odd pyjamas. There’s nothing special about me. I’m just a normal girl who happens to have four-billion dollars in the bank.
I storm back to bed and pull the covers over me to stare up at the ceiling again.
I’m lonely as hell.
*
My email pings. Spencer Jones again.
I smirk and look around guilty. It’s 4:00 p.m. on Tuesday afternoon, and I hate to admit it, but I’ve checked my emails every half an hour today.
I don’t want him to email me, but then I kind of do.
Dear Lottie
I am so sorry to hear that you’ve had a terrible accident and broken all of your fingers and are unable to email me back.
I smirk.
I shall however, as usual, pick up your slack and continue with my reasons as to why you should have dinner with me.
11 – I am a specialist in broken finger first aid.
I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud. He’s an idiot.
12 – I don’t have a YouPorn profile.
I frown. What does that mean?
13 – I have nice feet 14 – I can fold a fitted sheet.
15 – I have huge muscles.
I roll my lips to hide my goofy smile, why does he have to be all cute and adorable?
16 – I read ten books a week.
Pft, I highly doubt that.
17 – I’m nocturnal.
18 – I manscape.
He manscapes.…. My shoulders begin to bounce as I try to hide my giggles.
19 - I am on the navigation team for Santa Claus’s sleigh.
I burst out laughing, unable to catch myself.
Sarah looks over. “What’s funny?”
I close the email quickly. “Nothing, I was just…” I pause as I try to think of something. “I was just remembering something I watched last night.”
“What was it?” She keeps typing.
“Oh, just this weird guy was playing tricks on people.” I widen my eyes, good grief. “It was hilarious,” I add.
She raises her eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hmm, sounds it.” She stands. “I’m going to the bathroom. Does anyone want a coffee while I’m up?”
“Please,” we both say.
I drop my head to desperately try to stop myself from laughing out loud. Spencer’s on the navigation team for Santa Claus. Now I really have heard it all. I click the email open again and read the last reason.
20 – Because I know you like me, too.