Page 52 of Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)


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“Lottie,” I whisper.

She frowns and looks me up and down again. “Lottie.” She rolls her eyes like I’m an inconvenience. “Lottie is starting in the mailroom today. Sarah, you can train her, please?”

The pretty girl smiles, and it’s the first genuine smile I have seen aimed my way since arriving here. “Hello.”

She has long dark hair and looks like a sexy penthouse pet with her huge boobs, silicone lips, and fake eyelashes. I feel so dreary in my sensible clothes.

“Hi,” I croak.

“Back to work,” Veronica says. “Laurel, if you need anything, come and see me in my office.”

I frown. “It’s Lottie.” But she doesn’t hear me—she’s already power walking back to the lifts.

“Fucking slut,” Paul groans once Veronica has disappeared.

My eyes widen.

“I swear to God, one of these days I’m going to stab that bitch in the eye with this letter opener.” He pretends to stab something repeatedly.

Sarah smiles warmly and stands from her seat. “This is your desk, Lottie.” She pulls out my chair. “Don’t worry about Veronica. She’s just a massive cunt.”

My eyes pop. “Oh.”

“Yeah, Cunty McCunt Face.” She sighs. “I keep telling Paul to fuck her so she’ll be in a better mood, but he won’t.”

“You fuck her,” Paul cries out. “That vagina would be fucking green, I tell you. Nobody in their right mind would fuck her. I’m Paul, by the way.” He smiles as he stands and shakes my hand. Paul is around thirty, at a guess, and he’s quite good looking with dark hair and height that towers over me.

I bite my bottom lip to stifle my huge smile. Nobody ever talks like this around me. It feels weird… and good.

“Hello, Paul.” I hunch my shoulders together. “I have no idea what I’m doing, by the way.”

“Neither do we,” Sarah says casually. “We all hate this job. It completely sucks. You should run while you can.”

I smile, unable to help it. “Then why do you work here?” I ask.

“Can’t be fucked to look for a new job.” Sarah sighs as she turns back to her computer. “That takes effort.”

“I’m travelling. I’m only working here to save up for my next trip,” Paul admits.

I smile and look around the office. “Makes sense.”

“What are you doing here?” Paul frowns. “Why would you want to work in the mailroom of this shit hole?”

I giggle at his language. “I was working in a nursery and wanted to come to London. This was the first job that I found.”

They both nod, completely buying the story.

“So, it’s just the three of us here then?” I ask.

“No, there are another two boys, but they are upstairs delivering photocopies at the moment. Or hiding in a storeroom somewhere,” Paul mutters under his breath.

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour,” Sarah says.

“Okay.” I follow her over to the large conference tables.

“So here is where we sort the mail every morning. We bag it into floor levels and then into departments. You and I deliver that every afternoon.”

“Right.”

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