Mr. Spencer Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
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“No.” She reaches into her pocket. “I flew all the way here to give you this.” She holds out her hand and holds up a memory stick.

I frown as I stare at it. “What is it?”

“Well, while you’ve been over here playing the pathetic damsel in distress, and Spencer has been at his sickening pity party for one, someone around here has actually been using their fucking brain.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Spencer has a PA who needs to be fired, and I was quite sure she would try and sabotage him at some point. I wanted to catch her out and protect him.”

I stare at her.

“I put security cameras in his office.”

“What in the hell does this have to do with me?”

“Did you know that Penelope came to him the day before you saw her with William at dinner. Did you know that she wanted him to meet her for sex that night?”

“What?”

“Did you know that they argued, and he kicked ‘Stephanie’ out of his office.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She sits forward. “Because you’re a selfish little bitch who won’t even listen to what he has to say. You’re so caught up in your own fucking agenda that you can’t see the forest for the trees.”

“Go to Hell. You don’t even know me.”

“I’ll tell you what I do know,” she whispers angrily. “I’ve watched hours and hours of footage from Spencer’s office this week, trying to piece together anything that will prove his innocence.”

My face falls.

“That’s right, sweetie.” She sneers. “I’ve heard his conversations with you. I’ve seen him defend your honour to your brother. I watched your arguments over me, and Hell, worst of all, I’ve watched him fuck you on his desk.”

My eyes hold hers.

“And I would give anything to have him look at me the way he looks at you. To hear those three words I’ve so desperately wanted to hear for ten goddamn years.”

My eyes fill with tears.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Charlotte. If you leave him, it will be the biggest regret of your life.”

I blink quickly, unsure what to say.

“The man I’m in love with is in Santorini as we speak, waiting for you.”

I drop my chin to my chest as sadness overwhelms me. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Time to go,” a voice snaps.

We both look up to see Anthony looming over us like a gorilla.

“Who the hell are you?” Sheridan sneers.

“I’m her bodyguard, and I don’t appreciate you upsetting her.”

“Oh, just fuck off, you idiot.” She sighs with an eye roll. “We’re in the middle of something here.”

He looks at me and I nod. “Please go.” He walks off to the other side of the pool.

Our eyes meet again, and hers are cold, while mine are full of tears.

“You love him?” she whispers.

I nod. “Yes.”

“If you knew Spencer Jones at all, then you’d know damn well he wouldn’t have slept with me this week. He’s in love with you. He’s a proud man, and if you don’t go to him soon, you won’t ever get the chance again. You’ve hurt him deeply, Charlotte. Truth is, you may already be too late.”

“I don’t know how to get past this. Every time I picture him, I see her.”

She exhales heavily. “I can’t help you with that one. If Spencer loved me, nothing else on this Earth would matter.” We stare at each other. “Are you really going to let Penelope take him from you, for something that happened four years ago when he had no idea who she was or that she was even married?”

I stare at her as a clusterfuck of emotions run through me.

“Fuck the tabloids. Fuck your family. Take what’s yours and hold onto it with two hands.”

“Is this your motivational speech?”

“This is your ‘wake up to your fucking self and get to Santorini’ speech.” She drains her glass and stands, and without another word, Sheridan walks off into the distance.

She flicks her hair over her shoulder, and I watch her sexy little figure sashay out through the reception area.

I glance down at the memory stick in my hand.

What now?

Spencer

The sea breeze floats over my skin as I watch the reflection of the moon dance across the water. I’m on the balcony, high up above the ocean with the most beautiful view at my fingertips. The fire pit is lit and I stare back into it.

I can hear the celebrations in the distance. There’s muffled music and coloured lights sporadically strung from one property to another on the hill above me. They all twinkle in the distance. Every so often, a crowd cheers as they celebrate together.

Their giggles hang in the air with an eerie echo.

It’s New Year’s Eve. It’s December thirty-first. It’s my birthday.

I’m in Santorini, and I’m very much alone.

She didn’t come.

And here I am, scrolling through photos of Charlotte on my phone, remembering the good times.


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