Shacking Up(79)

       
         
       
        

Usually orgasms are a decent sedative, but it doesn't work the way I'd like it to. I can't seem to fall back asleep and ninety minutes later my alarm goes off. I pull on a pair of boxers and shorts before I leave my room-something I'm going to have to get used to doing with Ruby living here. At least until we get past this whole awkward reintroduction phase. When I woke up with my hand almost in her panties I figured we were about to resolve the issue, but then she bolted.

I put coffee on and riffle through the contents of the fridge. It needs to be stocked; pickings are fairly slim. I didn't even think to check the contents before I went to the office yesterday afternoon.

How my arrival was received and my expectations are not at all in line with each other. In my head, Ruby greeted me at the door with high enthusiasm and little in the way of clothing. I got the little in the way of clothing part, but the enthusiasm was replaced with awkwardness. And I hadn't taken into account that she'd have to work, and definitely not for the next four days.

Instead of sitting around in my condo feeling sorry for myself, I went to work. It helped keep my mind occupied. And it gave me a leg up on Lex, who didn't show up until four hours after I did. By that time, I'd already gone through spreadsheets, marketing plans, and development costs with my father. He'd seemed impressed by my dedication to the team and the projects. Having just got off a plane a few hours earlier, he'd fully expected me to take the day. And I would've, if Ruby had been home.

I survey the contents of the fridge, deciding what I'd like to make for breakfast. I have the necessary ingredients for pancakes. I've gotten used to starting or ending my day with Ruby, and I'd like it to continue.

Once the coffee is made I knock on her door. I'm met with silence. I try again, the odd knot forming in my stomach gets tighter. "Ruby," I call out when the second knock produces more silence.

I try the knob, but it's locked. Shit. Did she think I was going to try and get back into bed with her last night? Was this preventative, or born out of embarrassment?

I've talked to her almost every single day since I left, apart from a handful of travel days. There's been an extensive amount of sexual innuendo in those conversations. In a lot of ways, it's felt like long-distance dating. I've had weeks to get to know Ruby, weeks to appreciate her sense of humor. Time to get to know her mannerisms. Time to discover what makes her tick, what her insecurities are, how strong she is, how much she loves my pets, how much I appreciate her choice of bedwear.

Unless I've been reading things wrong, my expectation was that when I came home, all of that two-dimensional flirting would turn into something three-dimensional. With nudity. That I was so close to that reality last night makes me impatient to get the moment back. Except I have a feeling that's not going to happen right now. 

I give it one last try. I have no idea what time she came home, and I fell asleep on the couch last night and didn't wake up until after midnight. She hadn't appeared to be home at that point, although I hadn't checked her room. Her shoes, a pair of worn flats, sit close to the front door. I don't remember if they were at the door when I relocated from the couch to my bedroom.

I give up on trying to wake Ruby. I take my time getting ready for work, hoping she'll come out before I have to leave. She doesn't.

My entire day is spent in meetings presenting the PowerPoint I created on the flight home while my brother slept. I didn't consult Lex, determined to have my own findings. He's currently stewing in the seat opposite me. Every time he tries to throw me a curveball question I have the right answer, or at least one my father approves of. There's always been competition between us and my approach to this hasn't done anything to make it better. But I don't like being micromanaged and that's how the last five weeks have been with us working together.

My hope is that this trip overseas will be my last for a while and that I'll have done enough to be able to ask to manage a few of the New York properties. We have ten, so it should be doable.

When the meeting is over my father pulls me aside.

I really should be able to ask for what I want. But I'll have to put the feelers out first. My father always has a master plan, and I'm concerned it's one that involves more travel for me.

I take a seat in one of the club chairs in his office and he sits across from me, rather than behind his desk. "Good work in London."

This is high praise from my father. "Thanks. It was a good learning experience. I feel like I'm getting a good handle on the renovation aspect."