Page 2 of Anyone But You

I lied. I was nowhere near packed. My bedroom floor was littered with bikinis, sarongs, tiny shorts, tank tops, maxi dresses, and sandals. It wouldn’t take me long to pack because there was a method to the madness—pick everything up, toss it all into the suitcase, and figure it out later.

I rolled my eyes when my instant messenger pinged in the background.

It’s That Man Over There. He can wait.

Brittney:You’re a bags-are-packed-at-the-door lie.

Alyssa:Her clothes are all over her bedroom floor.

She’s not lying.

I had met Brittney and Alyssa during my freshman year of college when I joined a journalism club on campus, and we’d been inseparable ever since. They knew me inside and out and felt more like sisters to me than my own.

Which reminds me…

I shot a text to my trifling sisters, reminding them I’d be out of town for a few days.

Me: I’ll be out of town for five days starting tomorrow. Can you two please check on Mom while I’m away?

Faith: Where are you going?

Me: Miami…I told you this…twice.

Hope: I will if I have time.

Me: You only visit her on her birthday and Mother’s Day. Make the time.

Hope: Like I said, I will if I have time.

I almost texted her that she’d make the time to be at the reading of the will so she could get her cut, but I decided to keep my mouth shut to avoid an argument.

Me: Sure. On another note, can you two throw in on Mom’s bill next month?

Faith:Why? Do you need money? How are you going to Miami if you don’t have money?

Hope:Why would you ask that, Victoria? You know we don’t have money like you do.

What money? I could only afford to take a vacation because of the quarterly bonus I received from That Man Over There. I lived in New York, and if my apartment wasn’t included in my lucrative employee package, then I’d be fucked, and Mom would be on the streets.

Me:Don’t worry about it.

I tossed my phone into my desk, grabbed the leather portfolio binder my boss had gifted me for Administrative Professionals’ Day and a stapler, so he knew I wasn’t playing with him, and trekked to his office.

He grinned like an idiot when I entered.

“I see you’ve brought the stapler.”

“You’ve been warned,” I threatened, snapping the stapler in his direction before sitting in a leather accent chair in front of his desk. “You have ten minutes, and then I’m leaving. The next time you see or speak to me will be a week from now.”

Knox

“The next time you see or speak to me will be a week from now.”

Miami.

I’d like to believe those words didn’t just slip from her lips. My sexy yet delusional executive assistant thought I’d allow her to jet set to Miami with her drunk friends so she could flounce around in barely there bikinis, fuck other men, and twerk on tabletops.

I’m not an idiot. I’ve heard what goes on during those girls’ trips to Miami. She can’t go.