Page 4 of Anyone But You

“The car will arrive promptly at 7:00 AM to pick you up from your apartment.”

“I won’t be there,” she insisted, standing to her feet.

“I’ll bring the donuts you love!” I shouted after her retreating form. She slammed the door hard with such force that the meek employee at the printer nearly jumped out of his skin. My eyes narrowed when Victoria paused to speak to him. He touched her arm and rubbed it soothingly.

Note to self—fire him. Oh, wait. The little twerp is Blankenship’s executive assistant. I can’t just get rid of him. No bother. He isn’t a threat. He can never get a rise out of her like me. I have a plan to ensure Victoria doesn’t make it to Miami. I just have to duck the next time she sees me.

2

Miami Bound

Victoria

I was relieved when I exited my apartment building and was greeted by my Uber driver and not my living nightmare, Knox Ramsey. What frustrated me the most about Knox was that if he weren’t such a dick, I would’ve thrown him a little something.

I’m not a fucking idiot. I know that man has been cuckoo for my Cocoa Puffs since he interviewed me, and I’m not ashamed to admit I landed the job because the man wanted to bend me over his desk.

I was seriously one “Thank you for applying, but we found another candidate” email away from selling feet pictures and my used underwear to the freak nasties on the Internet.

Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind the bending. Knox Ramsey was a fine piece of work. He towered over me, even when I wore stilettos, making me feel small and vulnerable around him.There had been times when we rode the elevator together, and I became damp between the thighs thinking about him slamming me against the elevator walls and taking me down.

In my defense, this little fantasy almost always happens when I’m ovulating. Some things can’t be helped.

He was 49-years-young, stayed active, and was a sharp dresser with a panty-melting smile. He reminded me of Clark Kent when he donned his glasses when he was too helpless to order more contacts. He had the same jet black, wavy hair and strong jawline. We worked overtime a few weeks ago, and the man nearly made me drool when he slowly rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up, exposing solid forearms.

In my defense, I was ovulating…I think.

The Lord in Heaven knew I was tempted a few times during our business trips. All I had to do was knock on his suite door, and he’d drop his drawers, but all the late-night clandestine fantasies went out the window as soon as the man opened his stupid ass mouth.

That’s fine. I’ll get that itch scratched while I’m in Miami.

Instead of thinking about Overlord Ramsey, I texted my girls on the ride to the airport.

Me:I’m on my way to the airport!

Alyssa:You’re cutting it a little close.

Me:No, I’m not. Two hours is plenty of time to get checked in and through security—perks of flying First Class.

Brittney:Did your work daddy buy your ticket?

I frowned.

Me:First of all, don’t call him that. You may refer to him as: “Bastard,” “Dirty Old Bastard,” “That Man Over There,” or “Tall, Dumb, and Ugly.”

Alyssa:Girl, stop. We’ve seen your boss. I don’t know about his intelligence, but I’m guessing he has to be pretty damn smart to successfully run his business as CEO. The man is far fromugly. It might be the shot I took to the head before leaving my house this morning talking, but he’s a 10 out of 10.

Brittney:Fo sho.

Me:Girl…it’s 6:30…in the morning…

Alyssa:And it’s 6:30 in the evening somewhere else. Miss me with the bullshit. I’m officially on vacation!

Me:All right. You’re gonna fuck around and be too inebriated to board the plane.

Brittney:She’s gonna be drunk and sad watching the plane taxi away.

Alyssa:Hell nah. Y’all are not leaving without me. I’ll call in a threat. All the planes will be grounded.