“You are a powerful woman. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and wealthy.” He kisses me softly. “It’s about time you let the rest of the world know it.” He hesitates for a moment. “More importantly, I want you to believe it for yourself.”
I hold him close, pressing my face against his chest. Who knew that the biggest player in all of England would become my hero?
*
My email pings with a new message and I open it up. A broad smile crosses my face when I see the name Spencer Jones.
Good morning, Miss Preston What is my favourite mail girl up to?
I smile goofily and hit reply.
Dear Mr Spencer,
Your favourite mail girl is working her fingers to the bone.
He replies quickly.
Wrong answer.
Lie to me.
I smile and close my screen down while I think of what to say. This is so awkward to be sitting next to Sarah while Spencer messages me. I have to tell her about the two of us. I can’t lie like this. It’s eating me alive.
I exhale heavily.
Dear Mr Spencer,
I’m just going through my warm-up exercises.
I go on stage in twenty minutes.
I smirk as I wait for his reply.
Fascinating. Do tell...
What will I write now? I think for a moment.
My stage name is Angel Leroo and I’m a prima ballerina.
Perhaps you’ve heard of my recent show?
The Nutcracker?
Ironic really. Breaking penises happens to be my hobby.
I hit send and giggle. How on earth do I come up with this stuff?
Dear Angel Leroo,
That is one break I will personally look forward to.
I’m happy to oblige all of your broken penis fantasies.
And I look forward to you kissing it better.
Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?
Does he have any idea how gorgeous he is?
Surprise me.
I’m unable to concentrate at the moment.
I’m busy doing splits.
I smirk as I look around.
Your legs won’t be the only thing splitting tonight.
Thank you for warming up for me.
So thoughtful.
We’ll be having Italian food.
Pick you up at 7:00 p.m.
Spence
xo
I feel myself blush and I close the email. He’s just so naughty.
*
Two hours later, I’m sitting at my desk staring out the window. Spencer’s pep-talk the other night about deciding to do something, and then going forward and doing it, is playing on my mind.
Perhaps he’s right.
What is holding me back from turning my business dream into a reality?
I mean, I have the money, I have the qualifications, and I definitely know more about the charity sector than most people do. It could be a really great service that could help so many charities.
I just don’t know where to start. How would I even go about it?
Would I get an office here in London and just work by myself for a while until I got established? Or would I go for it straight away and employ a few people so we could hit the ground running? I tap my pen on my chin as I think.
I don’t want to fail.
“I’m so horny.” Sarah sighs beside me. “I think my vagina’s closing up.”
I smile and click open my emails as I listen to her. “I don’t think it has the ability to close up… does it?”
“Did you know that you can lift weights with your Kegel?”
“Huh?” I frown. “Isn’t a Kegel what the actual exercise is called… not your…?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, with your vagina or whatever. But, yeah, it’s true. Nutjobs tie stuff to a weight that they put in their snatch, and they lift then squat and stuff. I saw a chick on Facebook who was carrying a surfboard down the beach once.”
“What?” I gasp.
She giggles. “Imagine that, you ask some guy to meet you down the beach and you rock up with a surfboard hanging out of your pussy.” She widens her eyes as if making a great epiphany. “I should put this on my Tinder profile.” She holds her hands up. “I can carry your surfboard with no hands.”
I laugh out loud. “Honestly, Sarah, what next?”
She laughs, and then falls serious. “I think I’m going to look for another job.”
“You are?” I frown. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe be a receptionist or something. Anything other than spending my days in this shit mailroom.”
“That sounds fantastic.” I smile. “You’d be great at that.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so.”
“But, what would you do if I left? I can’t leave you in this shithole by yourself with Paul. He does nothing.”
I sigh. I have to tell her one day, so I may as well tell her now. “Can I tell you a secret?” “What?”
“But promise you won’t get mad with me.”
She rolls her eyes. “As if I’ll get mad. Did you give someone upstairs a blowie?”
I laugh. “Why does it always come back to blowies with you? And no, most definitely not. I didn’t really used to work in a nursery.”
“You didn’t?” She frowns.
“No.” I watch her for a moment, pondering how much I should elaborate. Damn it, I should just tell her everything—lay it all out on the table.
“I just wanted a stress-free job for a while.”
“Oh… okay.”
I exhale as I brace myself for her reaction. “You know how I told you that I recently broke up with my boyfriend before I moved to London?”
“Yes.”
“Well…” Oh, how do I say this? “I recently ran into him again and we realised that there was still something there between us.”
“Obviously, if you got back with him.”
“And now it’s really awkward because, well, I don’t want to upset you.”
“Why would you upset me?”
“Because I ran into my ex-boyfriend when I was with you.”
She frowns in confusion. “When?”
“He was your date on our double date. His name is Spencer Jones.”
Her mouth falls open. “Fuck… off,” she whispers.
I cringe. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and that’s why Spencer left early that night. He was horrified.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you at first. It was all so weird, and then I spent the weekend with him, and he sent me those flowers yesterday. The thing is, I really like you and I can’t lie to you anymore,” I blurt out in a rush.
She shakes her head and exhales heavily. “And what is your real job?”
“I’m a lawyer,” I whisper in embarrassment.
“Of course you fucking are.” She leans back in her chair and hangs her head over the back. “So, let me get this straight. You’re smart and you’re going out with my dream guy?”
I shrug. What else can I do?
“Hmm.” She turns back to her computer.
“What does hmm mean?” I ask as I watch her.
“You can’t carry a surfboard with your snatch like me, though, can you?” She raises her eyebrow sarcastically. “I bet you Spencer doesn’t know that.”
I giggle. “What? You can’t do that.”
“I could if I wanted to. If it’s on my Tinder profile, it must be true.”
We both burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry for lying to you. I just didn’t want to upset you.” I reach over and take her hand. “Are you angry with me? You have to imagine my horror when I realised who your date was.”
“Nah.” She shrugs. “I get it. He’s totally hot, but please put me out of my misery and tell me he’s a complete dud in bed.”
“Completely shit,” I lie.
“Good.” She smirks. “I knew it.”
*
I trail my lipstick over my lips and smile at myself in the mirror. I can’t wipe the stupid smile from my face.
A date with swoony Spencer Jones, the dreamboat.
I’ve floated through today ever since I told Sarah the truth. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. She was fine and says she doesn’t hate me.
I mean, there is still that small issue of me telling my family about the two of us, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Who knows, we may not even be seeing each other by the time my family get back.
Of course we will.
I’m trying not to let myself get attached to him, but it’s hard not to. He’s funny, smart, sexy, and he makes me feel so special.
I laugh the whole time I’m with him. What’s between us feels so grown up and real. I turn and take a look at my behind in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight grey dress that has long sleeves and a plunging neckline. My hair is swept up, and I’m wearing long silver earrings to match my high stilettos. I smile as I look over myself.
I look different.