Shacking Up(51)

"How convenient for him." Bancroft's derision makes me happy.

Obviously, my father was smart enough to draw up a prenup, so he wasn't just letting his penis guide his actions.

He'd done the same with my mother, but the money had never been the thing for her. I'd been her glue; and when I was all grown up and ready to make my own way, she'd finally walked away. It had been so difficult to lose her like that at first. I'd been angry, until I realized what she'd sacrificed and that my father was just another privileged asshole.

"Oh it gets better. As soon as the divorce was final he married her. And my whore-mother is four years older than me."

"Pardon?" I'm pleased by how horrified Bancroft sounds.

"I mean my stepmother. She's twenty-eight and I'm twenty-four."

"That's just-"

"Gross? Sadly typical? At least she's older than me. She's actually five years younger than my half-sister and seven years younger than my half-brother."

"That's just wrong."

"On so many levels. And they all work together. She's moved to a different department so she's not directly under him anymore."

"So many tasteless jokes there," Bancroft says derisively.



       
         
       
        

"Right? But he's still her boss and she's still the employee he screwed his wife and family over for. I think it's rather ironic that he deals in erectile dysfunction medications. Of course he needs a trophy wife to parade around so everyone knows he can still get it up. It's embarrassing."

"I can see why New York would've been alluring, and still is."

"Honestly, I probably would have murdered her had I stayed in Rhode Island, so moving was really the only viable option."

"Very practical, and far less complicated than murder," Bancroft says. I almost wish we were on video chat so I could see his smile.

"Exactly. I don't think I'm designed for murder. I mean, I love watching horror movies, but I can barely manage preparing meat, so I think I probably would've sucked at getting rid of the body."

Bancroft laughs. Then yawns.

"Am I boring you with my tales of murder?"

"I'm so sorry. I think the carbs and the jet lag are finally hitting me."

"I'll let you go so you can get a few hours of sleep before you have to be up for meetings."

"It's probably a good idea. I'll touch base later in the week, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Bancroft."

"You know, you can call me Bane."

"Like the bane of my existence?"

That gets me another sleepy, gravelly sounding laugh. "Is that what I am?"

"Not even a little. You're my white knight in shining armor, saving me from living in a box on the corner, singing on the subway to earn a living." As much as it's supposed to be a joke, he really is the only thing keeping me from having to move back to Rhode Island for at least the next month.

"I'm not so sure I deserve that title, considering my role in sabotaging your last audition," he says ruefully.

"I'm confident this makes up for it."

"That eases my guilty conscious more than you can know. Night, Ruby." The warmth in his voice wraps around me like a hug.

"Night, Bane."





Chapter 10: Luckless


RUBY

I don't hear from Bancroft for the next two days apart from a few text messages asking how things are going. So he'll know they're alive, I send him pictures of Francesca and Tiny, with little thought bubbles proclaiming their love for me. Bancroft thinks it's funny.

After that the phone calls come almost nightly. Bancroft has taken to calling me around dinnertime-well, dinnertime for me, but since he's across the ocean it's more like bedtime for him. Which I don't mind in the least. Especially since, two nights ago, he video called instead of voice called because he missed seeing Francesca. If I put him on speakerphone while she's in the room she goes nuts, and I wanted him to see how cute she is. 

Both times we've video chatted he's been wearing a white undershirt that hugs the muscles in his chest and outlines the incredible abs hidden underneath the thin fabric. I don't get to see what he's wearing from the waist down since we're clearly not staring at each other's crotches while we talk, but I like to picture him in boxer briefs that also hug all the good parts and outline his package nicely.

Dinner conversation usually starts with Bancroft asking about Francesca and Tiny, then I ask him how his day was, he tells me all about things his brother does to drive him insane and I point out he does a lot of the same things.

When he asks how the job hunt is going for me I tell him it's great. I've managed to line up two auditions for next week, but both of the roles are small, and not likely to be enough for me to come up with a down payment for any kind of apartment, let alone allow me to start paying down my debts.