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“Won’t Griffin be bringing Imogen?”
“Well, of course, she’s his girlfriend.”
“So why can’t I bring a date?”
“The Thorton’s are coming.”
I thought I’d managed to evade Brittany and the second date. “Mom.”
She makes a disapproving tsking sound.
“I thought we already talked about this,” I remind her.
“You were ill last time. Brittany is a lovely girl.”
Brittany is pampered and a pain in the ass. I’ve been avoiding her calls since I went out with her all those weeks ago.
“I’m seeing someone.” I might as well be upfront about it, maybe it will help allow me to evade more Brittany interactions.
“Since when?”
“It’s recent.”
“So it’s not serious then? Bringing her to dinner would make it awkward for Brittany, and I arranged this before you were seeing someone. I can’t really change the plans now. And your father has business with her father,” she’s imploring now.
Of course there’s business involved. My father can’t do it any other way. I wish I didn’t feel the need to cave for my mother, but it’s not as though Ruby will be able to join me anyway. “Fine. I’ll do this for you, but it’s the last time.”
“That’s all I ask.”
It’s a dinner, with family and a few friends, so it’s not even technically a date. It’s still frustrating.
Another call interrupts the one with my mother. I’m hopeful it’s my father. I’d like to get this meeting over with so I can get home to Ruby before she has to work tonight.
“I have to go, I have another call.”
“Okay. Thank you for making this easy for me. Have a good day. We’ll chat soon, Banny.”
“Bye, Mom.” I hang up before I can get angry with her. She knows how much I hate being called Banny.
It’s my father’s personal assistant, alerting me that the meeting will begin in five minutes in the conference room. Only two hours and twenty minutes later than I anticipated. I could’ve been in bed with Ruby this entire time.
I gather my things and head down the hall. My father is already sitting at the head of the table. His assistant sets down a coffee and several folders.
“So. What’s the emergency?” I ask as I slide into a chair beside Griffin.
“One of the London properties has an issue.”
I’m suddenly uneasy. “One of the ones I was working on?”
He shakes his head and I breathe a sigh of relief. My father hates errors.
“Lex was managing it.”
That’s a surprise. I had no idea he was managing anything outside of the four hotels we’d been asked to oversee while we were there.
“Which hotel?”
“The Concord.”
We’d stopped in there briefly, so I could get acquainted with the building and the managerial staff while we were in the area. It’s a well-established hotel, up to date, not in need of any real work as far as I knew. “What’s the problem? I didn’t think we were working on that hotel.”
“We weren’t supposed to until next year. It looks like some corners were cut regarding permits.”
That’s not good. I have to wonder if this was what he was taking care of when he went back to London ahead of me. Lex slips into the boardroom, looking rough.
He drops into the chair beside our father. “Sorry I’m late. What’d I miss?”
My father flips open the file folder and pushes it toward him. “Why don’t you have a look for yourself.”
Lex’s smile drops and he blanches.
Three hours later I’m still sitting in the meeting. The first hour was my dad chewing out Lex. There was nothing I could do to help him, since I didn’t know he was working on the project in the first place. The past two hours have been taken up with reviewing the original plans for the minor renovations to the ballroom and the indoor pool at The Concord, which weren’t scheduled for another full year. Securing permits for this kind of upgrade shouldn’t have been difficult.
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.
