Shacking Up(97)

The indoor pool is where the problem seems to be. I'm barely listening at this point. It's already early afternoon. I don't dare send any messages or my father will likely shit a brick. He's in a foul mood. I'd really like some time to talk to Ruby. If I don't get out of here before two, I'm not going to have enough time to get home before she leaves for work.

"Isn't that right, Bancroft?"

I look up from the paper I've been scribbling on. I've managed to draw a circle. With another circle inside it. And another inside that one. It looks remarkably like a breast.

"I'm sorry. Pardon?"

My father looks annoyed. It's not good. I don't want to piss him off more than he already is.

"You'll oversee the acquisition of the new permits."

"I don't have the background on this project."

He taps his pen on the desk three times in succession, then flips it into his palm. It's one of his little quirks. When he's angry or frustrated it comes out through small, controlled body movements. That was definitely the wrong thing to say. "You have the basics from this meeting. I'll send Griffin along with you."



       
         
       
        

Griffin and I glance at each other. It seems to be as much of a surprise to him as it is to me.

"I can fix this," Lexington says. "I'll go on my own."

Our father turns his angry gaze on Lex. "You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll be here, in the office, reviewing permit code for as long as it takes to get this sorted out."

Lex's mouth flattens into a straight line, but he keeps his mouth shut. None of us dare say anything to contradict our father. At least not here, where there are so many people to witness it.

"You'll leave this evening."

"Today?" Griffin and I ask at the same time.

My father gives us the same hard look we used to get as kids when we'd gotten caught doing something we shouldn't. "This needs to be sorted out immediately and we can't do it remotely. We need the investors to feel confident that we have the situation under control."

"How long are we going to be there?"

"For as long as it takes to iron things out. If you're quick, you could be back by the end of the week."

I grit my teeth. I don't want to go away again. I want to be in my condo with my pets. And Ruby. We need to have a conversation. A real one. A serious one. Unfortunately, it looks like that's still on hold.





Chapter 19: I Hate Brittany


RUBY

I wake to an empty bed, which isn't much of a surprise since morning has passed and afternoon approaches. My entire body is sore, thanks to the new addition to my workout routine in the form of Bancroft. That man can fuck like nobody's business.

I stretch out, smiling, and call Bancroft's name. I'm greeted with silence. That's odd. It's Saturday, and he didn't say anything about having to go to the office. Throwing off the covers I sit up, the muscle aches amplifying as I get out of bed and pad-naked-down the hall to the kitchen. The French press sits on the counter half-full. I touch the side. The coffee is cool, meaning it must've been made hours ago.

"Bancroft?" I call again. I still get nothing.

Maybe he's in his office wearing headphones. He does that sometimes out of consideration, since my hours are so much later than his. I tiptoe over and peek around the corner. He's not there either. What the heck?

Heading back to the kitchen, I root around in my bag until I finally find my phone. Maybe he went out to pick us up something to eat. He's considerate like that as well. The only messages I have are from Amie. She's been out of town for the past week on a honeymoon test run. That's right, she and Armstrong have gone away for a week to see if they like the location enough to return for their honeymoon. It's a Mills hotel, so I can't imagine they won't love it. I check the counter, which is where I find one of Bancroft's runelike scrawls. 

Emergency meeting. Not sure when I'll be back.

Bane



I frown, disappointed that my nakedness will go to waste and that the start to my day isn't going nearly as well as the end of my night. Scrolling through my phone, I check my messages from Amie.

She returned from her pre-honeymoon test run and we have a lunch date. I check the time. Crapdoodles. I have less than an hour to get ready and meet her in Midtown. A shower is a must, I smell like Bancroft and sex.

Firing a message off to let Amie know I'm on my way, I rush to my room to shower. Twenty minutes later I'm fresh and dressed. My hair is still damp, but it'll dry on the way. I slap on some makeup, grab my purse, and run out the door.

Amie's already at the restaurant when I get there. She's never late for anything. She puts down her phone when I slide into the seat across from her.