Page 49 of Famous Last

“Hello, stranger,” came a familiar female voice from behind him. “Fancy taking a few minutes out for a coffee, a blueberry muffin and a chat with your bestie?”

Spencer had been so absorbed in his work he’d barely registered the time of day. He immediately stopped what he was doing, checked the clock on his computer—already ten-thirty—then swivelled around in his seat and jumped up.

“Sorry, Bev. I meant to come and find you an hour ago. Lead the way.”

Living nearby, Bev had discovered a tiny coffee shop hidden down one of the small lanes around the back of the office. None of the office staff knew about the place where Bev was considered a regular. They took a booth by the window with their muffins while waiting for their drinks.

“I suppose you read the interview in theChronicleabout your boyfriend?” she began.

“Not my boyfriend, Bev,” he said then proceeded to give her a download about Friday night. Talking out loud brought up feelings he had been trying to suppress, and he felt tears begin to sting his eyes.

“Oh, Squirrel, baby,” she said, reaching a perfectly manicured hand across the table and squeezing his fingers. “Why didn’t you call me over the weekend?”

“I know. I should have. But I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Always phone me, Squirrel. Always. Especially as I can’t phone you, living in that cave of yours. That’s what friends are for.”

“Thank you. I will in future. It’s been a miserable week.”

“Poor you. Don’t lose hope, baby. Sounds to me like he’s dealing with a lot of crap at the moment. Maybe you need to be a little patient for him, for you both, while he sorts things out.”

“I’ve never been very good at patient.”

“Yeah,” smirked Bev, as their coffees arrived. “Me neither. But apparently, it’s a virtue. Apart from Marshall, what other gossip do you have? You go first, and then I’ll tell you mine.”

“Where do I start? My brother is going to be a dad. Clarissa resigned and Muriel asked me to take over her role.” That week, he had received an email from the Human Resources department about awarding him a compensatory one per cent raise on his salary each month for taking on extra responsibilities and a change of title to Acting Senior Editor. Spencer did not dare share the news with his mother. He knew exactly what she would say. “I’m sure you’ve heard already, but she has also agreed to let Marshall interview her and the hubby for the client Christmas party. Oh yes, and be careful. Kim in reception is so bored she’s threatening to streak through the office.”

“Wait, what? Slow down. Go back to the start.”

* * * *

Half an hour later, caught up on everything in his life, and Spencer began to feel more normal. When he’d pushed her about her own gossip, Bev had held her hands up and refusedto try to match his. They finished up their drinks and strolled back to the office arm in arm, both togged up against the cold weather. As they came out of the lift and into reception, Blake stood there talking to Prince, both leaning back against the counter, observing them. As always, Blake tried to look elegant but came off as uptight, too stiff and condescending in his silver-grey Italian designer suit, but he still managed the clean-cut handsomeness and confidence that had ensnared Spencer. Prince, on the other hand, far outshone Blake in the attraction stakes as he grinned and winked at them.

“Well, well,” said Blake, a thin smile forming. “Talk of the devil, and in walk Tweedledum and Tweedledee. I was just looking for you.”

“Oh, yes,” said Bev, staunchly immune to his charm. “Which one of us?”

“Both, actually. Can we take this to a conference room? They’re all empty right now. You too, Prince.”

Prince shrugged his bewilderment at them as Blake led them into the empty office and across the floor to the largest conference room.

“As I’m sure you all know, Ambika and I are having a private engagement celebration for close friends and younger family members at my parents’ place in Beaconsfield. Around sixty guests. My fiancée is insisting that I invite a sample of my work colleagues, so I’m inviting you three. It’s tomorrow afternoon and I need you to arrive no earlier than one-thirty.”

“Hang on. Tomorrow? That’s a bit short notice, isn’t it?” asked Bev.

“My mother would bedeeply gratefulif you accept the invitation.”

“What if I have other plans?” asked Spencer.

“Cancel them.”

“In other words, we have no choice,” said Bev.

“Let’s just say that your presence would be greatly appreciated. Now, as social gatherings are discouraged at the moment, you’ll need to keep this under wraps. And I mean no telling your friends or family. We’re recommending people come in cars of no more than four and make sure everyone is masked up. It all sounds a bit cloak and dagger, I know, because it’s not strictly above board, but my parents have managed to pull some strings—”

“You are not serious?” asked Bev.

“Completely serious. We’ll issue you with a letter saying you are all required as support volunteers for a charitable event. We’re rarely disturbed by the police, being so far out of town—but in case you do get stopped and questioned on your way, show them the letter. You’ll also need to say you’re carpooling with fellow volunteers, people you know, and if they need to check, ask them to call the number on the letter. The contact at that number will confirm your names.”

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