Page 48 of Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)


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“Yes. Thank you.” I give the boys a small dejected wave. I guess they may as well come up and inspect the room now instead of later. She already knows who they are to me. So much for flying under the radar.

Damn it.

I turn to them. “Do you want to come up now and look at the room?” I ask.

“That would be great,” Anthony replies without hesitation.

The receptionist, my two bodyguards, and Beth and I make our way into the lift.

I am silent and annoyed, sick of this fuss wherever I go.

As we ride up through the floors of the hotel, I stare at the floor, a sense of heaviness weighing over me. Don’t let this ruin it for you, I try and remind myself.

It’s okay, it’s okay. I repeat the mantra over and over in my head. I hate to admit it, but when I’m with my family and the guards are with us, it doesn’t seem to bother me at all. It’s as if it’s completely normal because they have it, too. But when I’m alone with my friends, I want to be alone with my friends, and it becomes glaringly obvious that they have all this freedom while I don’t.

The kind receptionist opens the door to the suite, and all of us tentatively walk in. “Holy shit!” Beth cries, her eyes flying around the room.

I smile at her reaction. There is nothing better than being with her when she experiences something for the first time. She can’t hide her excitement at all.

The receptionist smiles as she walks through to the living area. “It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I’ve stayed in some beautiful places before and this is up there with the best of them. We walk into a large living area, and I glance up to the ceiling to see a mezzanine level with a cascading, ornate staircase.

“The apartment is two levels.” She points upstairs.

The furnishings are complementing shades of coffee and creams. The space is filled with huge luxurious, aqua velvet sofas, as well expensive curtains, with the room lit by beautiful, free-standing lamps. We walk through to a large white kitchen. It has a large black marble island in the centre with stools lined up in front of it. The cupboards and cabinetry are black to match the island.

Wow, this is nice.

We continue on our tour, venturing into a large dining room, a bathroom, and a laundry room on the same level. We head upstairs to find three smaller bedrooms and another bathroom, and then to the end of the hall where the huge master suite happens to be.

I smile when I see it.

It’s exotic and sexy, decorated and furnished with different shades of grey velvet. The bed has an oversized padded headboard, as well as a couch with a chaise lounge at the foot of it. The en-suite bathroom is tiled in black and white marble. The feel of it is sheer luxury.

I turn to the receptionist, suddenly embarrassed that I can afford this place for six weeks. “Thank you, it’s lovely.”

She nods, realising she is being dismissed. “If you need anything, please call down to reception at any time.”

“Of course.” My eyes flicker to my guards. “Please look after the boys. I’ll be fine.”

She glances over to them. “Are you coming down to check in now?”

“Yes,” Anthony answers. “We’ll just perform our checks of the suite, and then we’ll be down in a minute.”

With one last smile, she disappears down the stairs and back to her job.

Beth starts to run up and down on the spot, and then she jumps up on the bed and begins to bounce. “Holy fucking shit, Lottie.” She squeals in excitement. “This place is off the Richter.”

The guards chuckle at my over-animated friend. She doesn’t hide who she is from them. The guys check the wardrobes and the bathroom. They pull the curtains back to inspect the windows, and then disappear to check the rest of the suite.

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I flop onto the bed, dejected from my super privileged check in.

“Who was I kidding, Beth? I can’t escape who I am. Just look at this stupid apartment.” I sigh sadly.

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