This Charming Man

Nineteen

Mr Trohman set me to work organising files in the backroom of his office and occasionally stuck his head round the door to offer me tea or biscuits. The work was tedious and I hated the cramped little room with a passion I never knew was in me and when Mr Trohman knocked on the door and told me it was lunch time, my entire body, including my pounding head, flooded with relief.

"Should I come back afterwards?" I asked by the door on my out and thankfully Mr Trohman shook his head.

"That's enough for today. Thanks, Brendon," he said and waved his hand to dismiss me. I passed Mr Wentz on the way to my room who told me Ryan was resting in bed and I'd have to be quiet if that's where I was heading. Despite coming up with various, strategic arguments in the backroom all morning, I didn't feel quite up to having a yelling match with Ryan just yet. I turned on my heel and went down to the bath rooms to find Spencer. I worked out that if Ryan had been sent to bed and I'd been stuck in Mr Trohman's office all morning, that only meant poor Spencer had been left to clean Bath 12 all by himself. And he had. I peered round the doorway to see him knelt on the floor scrubbing and I cleared my throat to make myself known. He looked up and smiled.

"Oh hey, Bren. How was Mr Trohman?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically and picked up a rag from the bucket. "Boring. I had to sort files all morning. That little filing room he has is absolutely boiling," I said, joining him on the floor and started scrubbing.

Spencer chuckled and shrugged. "I don't know. That kinda sounds much better than being stuck in here alone all morning. Ryan's ditched me. Do you know where he is?"

I paused and swallowed. "Oh yeah, about that... He uh... He had an accident."

Spencer paused and blinked at me. "An accident? Shit, is he okay?"

I nodded quickly. "Oh yeah, yeah, he's fine. He just bumped his head."

"Oh. Well I hope he can join us this afternoon. I thought if me and Ryan got started in the morning, by the time you joined us, all we'd have to do is scrub up and we'd be done. But uh..." he sighed, glancing round, "Obviously not."

"Doesn't matter," I said cheerfully. "We can get to work properly after lunch. You coming?" I said, dropping my rag back in the bucket.

"Yeah," Spencer said, sitting back on his heels and giving the bath another disheartened look.

"C'mon then," I said, tugging his arm and he got up and followed me out.

We went to the market for lunch and it started raining as we were walking back and it was still raining by the evening. We'd worked on Bath 12 right through the afternoon and Spencer, as he always did, improved my mood immensely. We were close to finishing when Gabe, who seemed to have become Mr Wentz's personal assistant, appeared in the archway and told me Mr Wentz wanted to see me. I knew fully well that Mr Wentz would send me to Mr Weekes' room straight away and despite all my excitement and nerves bundling into one in my stomach, I would've much rather spent the rest of the evening with Spencer.

"I can manage the rest myself," Spencer assured me with a smile before I brushed past Gabe and headed up to the reception.

"Mr Weekes' room, gotcha," I said, waving my hand as I passed Mr Wentz's desk. Mr Wentz did a double take and waved his hand at me.

"No, no, Urie, not his room," he said, gesturing for me to come back.

I frowned and walked back to the desk, feeling foolish for being wrong but not letting it on.

"He wants a bath, Urie," Mr Wentz said quickly then turned to grin and welcome a customer.

I blinked and hoped like hell my cheeks weren't flushing. "Wh-which ba-" I tried to ask but Mr Wentz put his hand up to shush me while he dealt with the customer and after he hoped they enjoyed their stay, Mr Wentz turned to me with the stern expression I'd come to know all too well.