We stare at each other as we pant, both of us furious. I’m not telling him like this, he’s too angry. He’ll go berserk about me lying to him in the first place.
I go to touch him, but he flicks my hand off his arm. “Don’t fucking touch me, you piss me off.” He storms out. I hear him walk down the hall, and then the spare bedroom door slams shut.
I drag my hands through my hair.
I walk up to the spare bedroom and stand outside the door.
I hear him kick off his shoes, and then I hear something hit the wall. I hear the blankets get thrown back. “Fuck off!” he mutters angrily to himself before something else hits the wall.
I slide down the wall and sit on the floor in the hallway. At least he hasn’t left me.
But what now?
Edward
I run through the profit and loss sheets for Macao, checking the losses myself with a calculator. They’re two percent higher than expected, and I want to find where we are slipping. My father Harold is in his office next to me, going through some refurbishment details with our interior designers.
My phone rings and the name Alexander York lights up the screen.
I smile and answer with, “Yorkie, how are you?”
“Good, good.” He laughs.
Alexander is one of my closest friends. The two of us went to boarding school together and have only gotten closer over the years.
“Why are you calling me at…” I glance at my watch. “5:00 a.m. your time? Did you wet the bed?”
“Ha, very funny. I’ve been contemplating calling you all week. It’s finally got the better of me.”
I frown, suddenly interested. “What’s up?”
“You know how I took Charlotte to the charity ball last Saturday night?”
“Yeah.”
“There was this guy sniffing around her.”
“Who?”
“Spencer Jones.”
I immediately type the name into Google on my laptop.
“Define sniffing,” I urge while I wait.
“Well, that’s the thing: I don’t know anything for certain, but it’s left me feeling uneasy all week, so I thought I’d better let you know.”
A collection of images appear, and I scroll through each of them, reading the first headline.
Bad Romeo Caught with Three Women in the Same Day.
I clench my jaw. “What happened?”
“That’s the thing, they seemed to know each other. They were familiar when talking, and then he was kissing her hand.”
“Kissing her?” I snap and sit forward in my chair. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“Afraid not. I approached Spencer at the bar when she was out of her earshot and asked him what he was doing with Charlotte Prescott.”
I continue to scroll through the images of him with different women.
“What did he say?”
“He said, and I quote, Whatever the fuck I like.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do you know this guy?”
“Yes, and I fucking hate him. He’s a womanising cad who sleeps with every supermodel in town.”
“Who is he?” I Google his bio.
“He owns a successful steel manufacturing company… does all right for himself.”
“Why do you hate him?”
“The guy stole a girl off of me years ago and it escalated from there. I’ve had run-ins with his friends, too. He hangs out with Julian Masters and Sebastian Garcia.”
I narrow my eyes even farther. I know Julian Masters. Our fathers have done business together in the past. I saw him once at Madison’s when he was coming out of a suite. He didn’t see me, though. If he goes to Madison’s, Spencer would too.
“What happened at the ball?”
“Nothing while I was there. He talked to Charlotte, he and I had words, and then later in the night, my mother fell ill so I had to take her home an hour before it finished.”
“You left Charlotte there alone?” I frown.
“She was with my sister Mariella, and she knew everyone at our table. Her guards were there, too, of course. But here’s the thing, as soon as I left, she was back at the bar talking to Spencer Jones again.”
My fury begins to rise. “Did they leave together?”
“No, separately.” He pauses, as if he has something else to say.
“What?”
“Look, I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I called around to see her the next day unannounced and she was… half-dressed, and she most definitely did not want me in her apartment.”
I sit forward in my seat, glaring at the images of this Spencer Jones with what seems like every beautiful woman on the planet. “You think he was there with her?” I ask.
“No, but it was obvious she didn’t want me there.” He pauses. “I don’t know, it just felt off, man. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyway, it’s been eating at me ever since so I thought I should let you know. Spencer is the last fucking person that Charlotte should be associated with.”
I glare at the computer screen with a sarcastic smile plastered on his face.
“I can see that.” I inhale sharply. “Don’t mention this to father or anyone else.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll check it out, thank you. You’re a good friend.” I hang up and sit back in my chair, studying the Playboy in front of me.
“Over my dead body will you get your hands on her,” I whisper. “Over my dead body.”
Charlotte
I wake with a start, and I can tell by the light of the room that it’s now early morning. I get out of bed, go to the bathroom, and tiptoe down the hall.
My man didn’t come and get into bed with me when he’d cooled down like I thought he would. I’ve been thinking about it all night, and Spencer is right… I should have asked him before I jumped to conclusions. But he should have told me she came to him, and he was being deceitful when he hid the key from me. We’re both in the wrong here and I won’t take all the blame.
I open the bedroom door and my shoulders slump. The crumpled up bed is empty.
He must have just left, although he normally leaves at 5:30 a.m.
Great.
I head downstairs and make myself a cup of tea, then I sit at the kitchen counter as I drink in silence.
What the hell do I do now?
Damn this, I’m not spending the day worrying.
I take out my phone and dial his number.
“Hello,” he answers in a clipped tone.
“Hi.” I smile nervously. “Why didn’t you wake me up before you left?”
“What’s the point?”
“Spence,” I sigh. “What did you expect me to think?”
“Exactly what you did.” He pauses. “I am my father’s son, after all.”
My heart drops. “Stop it and come back home. We’ll work it out.”
“I can’t, I have to work.”
I close my eyes. Damn it, why did I fly off the handle before talking to him?
“Will I see you tonight?”
“I’m busy.”
I frown.
“See you later.” He hangs up.
*
Five hours to stew on something is a long time. I sort through the mail on the table like a zombie, my mind with Spencer and how he doesn’t think he’ll see me tonight.
He said that he loved me.
“Are you okay?” Sarah frowns. “You’ve looked like shit all day.”
“Not really, I feel sick,” I lie.
“Go home.” Paul tuts. “We don’t want it.”
“Yeah, go home,” Sarah says. “We’re entitled to sick days. Just go, and we’ll tell them after you leave that you were throwing up.”
“Really?” I could go and see Spencer at work. “Is that okay?” I ask.
“Sure! Off you go.”
I can’t stand the thought of him thinking that I think he’s like his father.
I need to fix this situation right now.
I’m worried sick about this.
*
Half an hour later, I’m walking into Spencer’s building with Wyatt and Anthony close behind me. I read the lists of businesses in the directory in the foyer.
Universal Steel — Fourteenth floor.
We take the elevator up, and my heart beats furiously in my chest. Up until last night, I wouldn’t have thought Spencer had a temper, but now I know that he does and it’s a little scary. The doors open up to reveal a huge office space. It’s modern and decorated black and white with huge, brightly coloured abstract paintings along the walls.
The entire back wall is made of windows that overlook London.
Wow, this is something else.