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Shacking Up(85)

By:Helena Hunting


The one named Diva winks at Armstrong and he winks back.

The sound of yippy barking has me cringing. Ms. Blackwood is standing in the hallway with Precious cradled protectively in her arms. Her eyes are as wide as they can go and her mouth is a flat, red slash. She looks utterly scandalized when the one who calls herself Diva prances up to her and taps Precious on the nose while she snarls.

As the girls traipse down the hall she turns to me. "I didn't realize you'd returned, Bancroft. Are those"-she seems to struggle to find the right word-"friends of yours?"

"I got back last week. They're friends of Ruby's." At her questioning look I prompt, "She was watching my place while I was gone. Remember?"

"Oh. Yes. Of course. But she's still here?"

"She definitely is."

"Well I hope her friends aren't going to cause trouble."

I flash her a smile and wink. "Don't worry, Ms. Blackwood. I know how to handle trouble."

As soon as the door closes Lex lets out a low whistle. "Now I know why you let her move in here. That chick is smokin'."

"I didn't let her move in because she's hot. I needed someone to take care of Francesca and Tiny."

Armstrong snorts.

"I call bullshit on that, brother." Lex points to his crotch. "I'd sure let her play with my ferret."

I get up in his space. "Keep your fucking ferret away from her unless you want to lose it."

He gives me one of his know-it-all grins. "Well, this explains everything."

"What're you talking about?"

"London, you fool. Turning down the offers for room keys when we were in the hotel bar. You always wanting to go back to your room early. All the phone calls you couldn't miss. You gotta be hitting that."

"I hit that," Drew says.

He's almost sneering until I turn around and point a finger in his face. "You seriously need to shut it unless you want to know what a broken nose feels like."

He nods. "Shutting it."

"You are hitting that, right?" Lex asks again. I don't know why he insists on having this information.

I give him a look. "Ruby is not a that, and I'm not sleeping with her." Yet.

He gapes at me. "Seriously, Bane, we need to sit down and have a talk. How the hell are you not hitting that? Did you see what she can do with her leg? Did you see her ass?" He holds up his hands as if he's grabbing it. His facial expression would be priceless if he wasn't talking about Ruby. His eyes light up. "We're gonna go see their show tonight, right?"



       
         
       
        

I slide the card out of my back pocket and scan it. The address is at the bottom.

Griffin looks over my shoulder. "I thought you said Ruby was in theater."

"She is."

"But that-"

I elbow him in the ribs. The card isn't advertising dinner theater, it's a burlesque show.

"So . . . you want us to go to my place to watch the game?" Griffin asks.

"That's probably a good idea." There's not a chance in hell anyone but me is going to see Ruby's show.





Chapter 17: The Jig Is Up


RUBY

I'm so embarrassed. And annoyed. And embarrassed. What is Drew doing hanging out with Bane? I mean, I guess it's not that hard to believe considering all the superwealthy people in this city like to stick close to each other. It's like wealth incest.

I'm in a terrible mood as I suit up in my costume. It's beautiful, sheer, gauzy, and flowing. It's on the revealing side, which is not unusual for a burlesque-style show, but having seen the way Drew was looking at me-as if I was meat he'd like to sink his teeth into again-makes me even more aware that the job I have really isn't one I can keep long term.

In the weeks I've been working here I've dropped a lot of inhibitions. It's been good for me in some ways. But the secrecy is eating at me.

Diva's sitting beside me, applying makeup, just like me. She sweeps a generous amount of lip gloss along her bottom lip, then dabs with powder, and follows up with liner. She repeats the process three times. Her lips always look fabulous. I'm learning all the best tricks from these women. My least favorite is the glitter, though. It gets into everything, and I mean everything. All the time.

"What do you think the chances are that you can hook me up with a number for one of those guys?"

I stop applying mascara to glance at her. "I don't really know if you want to date any of those guys. Except maybe Bancroft, but he's off limits."

"I don't want to date any of them. I want to make them fall in love with my pussy so they'll buy me nice things. And don't you worry, baby girl, it was clear the second that man walked in the door that he's all about you."