“Spencer, promise me.”
His eyes meet mine. “I can’t do that. Let’s go.” Without another word, he walks towards the front door. I stare at the kitchen counter for a moment with my heart hammering hard in my chest.
Please let this go well.
*
Two hours later, we pull up at the large stone gates of my father’s estate, and Spencer punches in the security code. It was so long ago that he was here. How on earth does he even remember it? Wyatt and Anthony are in the car behind us, and I know they are feeling my nerves right along with me.
Their heads are about to roll, too.
The gates slowly open. “Main house?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Yes.” I nod and stare down at my hands in my lap. We’ve said two words to each other on the whole trip here. Actually, we’ve said five. He asked me if I needed the bathroom when he stopped for petrol. It’s like he was already angry before he even got here.
I have a bad feeling about this. “Just let me do the talking,” I say.
Spencer’s jaw clenches as he looks through the windshield.
I watch him. “Spence? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, I heard you. I didn’t agree with you, that’s all.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t fight with them. In time, they’ll calm down and be reasonable. If you fight with them tonight, you’ll start a war and I’ll be so mad with you.”
His tongue comes out and trails over his bottom lip.
He’s arrogance personified.
“I mean it, Spence. Please, for me. Don’t fight with them.”
He reaches over and picks up my hand to kiss my fingertips, his eyes still glued to the road.
“Why aren’t you answering me?”
“Because I’m not promising you anything.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, let’s turn around and go home then. I don’t even want to go in if you have this attitude. This is my family, of course they are worried. How do you expect them to react to these magazine stories?” I snap. “I’m not exactly thrilled about them myself.”
He tilts his chin to the sky in defiance and gives a subtle shake of his head.
“What?” I snap.
“And there it is. You haven’t even seen them yet and already you’re beginning to side with them.”
“I’m not,” I snap angrily.
He smirks. “Whatever you say.” He pulls in and parks the car. My heart begins to thump hard in my chest. I grab his hand and look over at him as panic begins to set in. Is he right? Are they going to change the way I see this?
“I love you,” I whisper.
His dark eyes hold mine. “Prove it.” He gets out of the car and slams the door. I close my eyes.
Fuck.
Spencer
I open Charlotte’s car door and nearly rip the damn thing from its hinges.
I’m fucking furious.
Get your fucking arse back to Nottingham.
Nobody gets to speak to Charlotte like that.
Nobody.
I take her hand and drop my head. I can hardly look her in the eye.
“No fighting,” she whispers again. I glance over to Wyatt and Anthony who are parking in the bay beside us.
I inhale through my nose to try and calm myself as Charlotte walks up to the front door and slowly opens it.
“Hello!” she calls. “I’m home.”
“Darling.” I hear a man’s voice greet her. “Edward, Lottie’s home.” The man comes around the corner, and the second he sees me, his face falls. He’s an older man, obviously her father. He’s good looking, too—distinguished and wreaking of money.
Charlotte looks between us. “Dad, this is Spencer,” she whispers nervously.
I nod. “Hello.” I force a smile and put my hand out. “Spencer Jones.”
He shakes my hand, his face expressionless. “I know who you are,” he replies flatly. “Harold Prescott.”
We stare at each other.
“Dad,” Charlotte whispers. “I want to speak to you alone, please.”
“Not now, Charlotte.”
From out in the hall, I hear someone say, “What the hell is going on, Charlotte? Have you seen the headlines?” Edward appears from around the corner, and just like his father before him, his face falls when he sees me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps.
Unable to help it, I smile sarcastically. “Nice to see you again, Edward.”
“Go to Hell.”
“Edward, please,” Charlotte whispers. “I wanted him to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in love with him.” She takes my hand in hers. “We… we’re… we are in love,” she splutters nervously.
Harold gasps, clearly shocked, and I have to fight the urge to smile again.
Edward’s features curl together in disgust. “Don’t insult my intelligence now, Charlotte. You’ve known him for a week.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ve known him for much longer.”
Edward’s cold eyes meet mine, filled with contempt. “I warned you to stay away from her.”
“And I told you it’s none of your business. The only person I will answer to is Mr Prescott.” I nod at Charlotte’s father in acknowledgement.
Harold raises his chin as he watches the two of us carefully.
Charlotte picks up her father’s hand. “Can we have some dinner, Dad, and talk about this… please?”
My anger boils seeing her having to beg on my behalf.
I don’t want to have dinner here. I don’t want her to have to beg for me to be accepted.
They don’t even fucking know me.
Fuck them.
Harold’s eyes hold mine, and then he turns to her. “Of course, dear.” He kisses her hand. “I have missed you so much.” He turns and leads her up the hallway.
Edward and I stare at each other until he takes a step forward. “You may have her fooled… but you don’t fool me.”
I raise my eyebrow and smile. “It’s a good thing that I’m not sleeping with you then, isn’t it?”
“You fucking prick.” He loses control and pushes me hard in the chest.
“Hit me.” I smile. “I dare you.”
He pushes me again, and I grab the lapels of his shirt. “Stay out of my fucking way,” I growl into his face.
“Oh, I’m in your fucking way, all right.”
“Edward!” Harold calls from the other room, as if he knows exactly what is about to happen. “Here. Now!”
Edward glares at me, and without another word he pushes me away and walks into the other room.
I exhale heavily as adrenaline courses through my veins, and I run my hands through my hair.
My blood is boiling.
“Spencer?” Charlotte calls. “Can you come here, please?”
I turn and follow her voice, walking into a large living area. The room is filled with expensive antiques. It looks more like a museum than a home.
“Let’s have something to drink.” Charlotte smiles hopefully, gesturing to the dining table for us all to sit down.
My heart swells with empathy. My poor angel.
“That would be nice.” I fake a smile and take a seat.
“Abigail!” Charlotte calls.
A middle-aged woman in a uniform appears immediately. “Yes, Charlotte.”
“May we have some drinks, please?”
“Of course. What can I get you?”
She looks around at us, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “Three scotch on the rocks, and a ….” She frowns to herself. “Make it four scotch on the rocks.”
Abigail nods. “Very well.”
Edward frowns. “You don’t drink scotch.”
Charlotte nods nervously. “I do tonight.”
“Charlotte and her guest will be staying for dinner,” Harold says.
“Yes, sir.” Abigail smiles, and with a graceful nod she disappears from the room.
Harold sits at the head of the table, Charlotte next to him, and I sit beside her. Edward is opposite Charlotte. Who the other twenty-four seats are for is anyone’s guess.
Who has a dining table this big?
Edward sits back in his seat, eyes fixed on me. “So, where did you two meet?”
“It was through work,” Charlotte immediately fires back.
What’s she doing? We didn’t meet through work.
“We’ve known each other for a long time. We’ve become good friends,” she says softly as our drinks arrive.
“Thank you.” I take my drink from the male waiter. How many staff do they have?
“It should stay that way,” Edward retorts.
I roll my lips to keep myself from getting up and hitting this fucker in the head.