Page 49 of Anyone But You
“For a long time, I did. I knew my situation wasn’t typical, but I was all in, you know?”
“Did you change your stance on love?”
“I did. Last year, I interviewed a young woman for the executive assistant position. I told myself, this woman will stab me in the face instead of the back.”
“I don’t even have anything to say to that. Goodnight, Knox.”
I chuckled and pulled her closer to me. “Goodnight, Victoria.”
A few minutes had passed of me rubbing her hip and ass when I felt the need to address something with her.
“Victoria?”
“What’s good, Knox?”
“I-I can give you the house on the hill, the luxury cars, and the trips around the world,” I said softly as we lay beside each other.
“I don’t want those things anymore,” she whispered in the dark. “Why would I want that when I have a condo with a million-dollar view?”
15
Trifling
Knox
You can do it. Just ask her. The worst thing that can happen is she tells me, ” No, get out of my face and go sit down somewhere, Knox Amadeus Ramsey.” That’s not my middle name, but to be fair, pre-crash Victoria would tell me that, but Island Wife Victoria is calmer and more agreeable.
“Are you constipated, Knox?” Victoria asked, pulling me away from my intrusive thoughts. “Because if you are, you’d better eat a mango. You’ll be squatting over a hole by lunch.”
“No, I’m not constipated. Why do you ask?”
She squinted up at me from her palm fronds-woven yoga mat and assessed me further.
“It’s your face.”
“What’s wrong with my handsome face?”
She snorted. “I didn’t say all of that.”
“What’s understood doesn’t have to be said.”
She shook her head with a small smile. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet, and you’re already on your bullshit.”
“My bullshit is 24/7, baby.” Victoria fell back on her mat and clutched her stomach while she laughed. I plopped down beside her and patiently waited for the giggle factory to hang up their hard hats and punch their time cards to end their shift. “Okay, that’s enough,” I insisted, straddling her. I groaned when she ran her hands up my thighs beneath the caftan, giving them a tight squeeze. “That’s sexual harassment, Ms. Caldwell.”
“Shhhh. No one has to know,” she whispered, reaching up to caress my bearded cheek. “It can be our little secret. I’ll give you whatever you want as long as you say you’ll be mine. Name your price, Mr. Ramsey,” she said teasingly.
“You’d make an excellent CEO. You have the whole preying on the vulnerable employee thing down.”
“Is that what I was to you?” she questioned as her hands continued to roam.
“Everyone comes with vulnerabilities.”
She hummed contemplatively. “True. What’s your price, Knox? I know you have a son at home, crying all alone on the bedroom floor cause he’s hungry, and the only way to feed him is to sleep with your boss for a little bit of money.”
I squinted at her skeptically.
Isn’t that from a song?
