“I understand where you’re coming from. Being pushed into something you don’t really want because you’re out of other options, I mean.”

“Yes. Well, my rugby career wasn’t going to last forever, so this was inevitable. Anyway, I’m being whiny. I need to stop that before I lose more points. I was down to eight-point-five this morning, wasn’t I?”

“Mmm. It might take a while for you to earn that half point back.”

“That means I’ll have to be on my best behavior then, doesn’t it?”

“Well I’m sure it’s a lot easier to behave yourself from across the ocean.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mutters. “Hold on, room service is here with my dinner.”

I’m surprised they serve food at two in the morning, but then maybe because his family owns the hotel he gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

I hear his muffled voice in the background and then he’s back again. “I don’t know why I’m making you stay on the phone with me, I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me eat.”

“Actually, I haven’t eaten dinner yet, so I could heat something up and we could eat together.”

“Isn’t it nine there?”

“I slept in a little and had a late lunch.” I don’t mention getting up at two in the afternoon. Not when he’s been traveling all day.

I put him on speakerphone while I prepare a plate of leftovers and stick it in the microwave.

“What are you having?” he asks.

“I’m on to the chicken parm and spaghetti. I ate all the primavera this afternoon. What about you?”

“A burger and fries. It was pretty much the only option at this hour.”

Once my meal is reheated I take it over to the counter, grab a bottle of Perrier from the fridge, and drop onto a stool.

“So this traveling you’re doing now, will you have to keep it up?” I twirl noodles onto my fork.

“Probably for a while, at least until my father thinks I have the basics down.”

“I guess it’s good that you’re used to it then?”

“I don’t mind the travel but I feel like I’ve done enough of it over the last seven years. It can be”—he pauses for a few seconds, searching for the right word—“lonely, I guess. I missed so many birthdays and holidays with my family. I was looking forward to being able to spend more time with them, put down some more roots I guess, but it seems like that will be delayed again.”

“You’re close to your family then?”

“They’re important to me. My mother was sick a while back and I wasn’t there for that, because of my job. I’d like to be around more. There are some New York projects I’d like to be involved in, but it really depends on how quickly I pick things up whether or not I’ll get to work on them.” He sounds a little despondent.

“Is it a steep learning curve?” I have no idea what the hotel business entails.

“I have all the theory from school, but I haven’t been actively using any of the things I learned in college for this purpose. It’s a new application, if that makes any sense.”

“It does. So after you have the basics down, then you’ll get to work out of New York?”

“Not strictly, but my hope is that I’ll have the opportunity to manage some of the properties in the US, and travel will be limited.”

“And that’s what you’d prefer?”

“I think so, yes. It’s just a big transition. It’ll take time to get used to suits instead of cleats.”

“Mmm. That is a big change.” I lean back, holding on to the edge of the island until I can see the giant, sweaty poster of him on the wall. “If it’s any consolation, you look just as good in a suit as you do in cleats.”

“Nine out of ten good?”

“It would’ve been if you hadn’t asked that question.”

He laughs. “So how does a Scott end up in New York, looking to get on Broadway? I thought you were all born with your times tables memorized.”

I snort. “Ah, that’s typically the way it goes. I’m the rogue, unfortunately. My passion has always been in theater. My father only let me come to New York out of guilt. And possibly to get rid of me for a few years so I wouldn’t ruin his extended honeymoon phase.”

“I’m not following.”

“My mother waited until I was done with high school to hand my father the divorce papers. Then she moved to Alaska. I’d applied to Randolph before that happened and my mother had been a big supporter. My father not so much. Of course he found it in his heart to support my decision when he brought his new girlfriend home to meet me two weeks after my mother left.”

“Ouch.”

“She was his secretary at Scott Pharmaceuticals. She’d been working under my dad for two years. I’m fairly certain he’d been dipping his quill in the company inkwell for a long while. So he let me go to New York.”

“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.