Page 3 of Anyone But You
I’d been monitoring Victoria’s online activity on her employee laptop for the past month. I’d watch her mouse drag across the screen and grind my teeth when she’d add a risqué bathing suit to her shopping cart. My favorite was a red triangle string bikini that would look striking against her deep, rich skin. It’d show a lot of ass, too—another reason she couldn’t go. I didn’t want any men looking at what was mine.
Thinking about going a week with no contact with Victoria was maddening.
No calls? Texts? Emails? Nothing?
My unhealthy codependency wouldn’t allow it. It was why I resorted to nefarious tactics just to get a hit of Victoria Caldwell, no matter how detrimental it was to my health and safety. I’d call her early in the morning just to hear her groggy, freshly woken voice. I demanded excessive overtime for the chance to linger in her vanilla perfume a little longer and to share late-night dinners with her, even if they were work-related.
I was a masochist in many ways, always needing to be on the receiving end of her vitriol. The more she raged, the more excited I became. A therapist had volleyed the term ‘energy vampire’ once before and coupled it with “narcissism” when I brought up Victoria. That was the first and last time I lay on a shrink’s leather couch.
I’ll do anything to prevent her from going on her trip, even if that means devising a bogus mandatory business trip. The tripwill be unforgettable. It’ll be her and me basking in the lap of luxury.
“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other sooner than that.”
“I highly doubt that. What do you need, Mr. Ramsey?”
You coming on my dick, but I guess I can’t say that, can I?
Wordlessly, I slid a leather folder in her direction. Her eyes narrowed once it met its resting place in front of her. Silently, she placed her hands on the folder and slid it back to me. I grinned and skated it back. “We can do this all day, Victoria. As always, I know you have last-minute packing to do; it’d be a shame if you had to stay late.”
“Youare the reason I pack last-minute.”
“Don’t blame me for your poor time management skills.”
“Poor time management? Really? Because my last evaluation said that I have excellent time management skills,” she quipped, sliding the Folder of Doom back to me.
The Folder of Doom could be anything—a new acquisition, a business meeting with a cantankerous client, a gala invitation, and, in this case, a business trip.
“Take the folder,” I insisted, shoving it back.
“Whatever is in this folder can wait until I return.”
“Victoria!” I snapped, using an authoritative tone that meant I didn’t have the time or patience to engage in a squabble. She huffed, snapped up the folder, and flipped it open. I gazed at her beautiful face, taking in her striking features while I waited for Mount Victoria to erupt. A perfectly arched eyebrow slowly ascended her forehead. Her eyes widened as she read the pages, and her button nose twitched like a bunny now and again. Those red pouty lips that I dreamed of sucking on at least five times a day folded inward. Agonizing silence continued for another minute before she snapped the folder closed and placed it on the desk.
“I think it’s time for me to speak to the Board,” she said softly.
“And why is that?”
“Because you are clearly unfit to run this company as Chief Executive Officer. You should exchange the Italian designer suits and the penthouse office for a straitjacket and a white padded room because there’s no way in Hell you thought I’d agree to go on this trip!” she barked.
“It’s mandatory, Victoria.”
“Mandatory for you, not me,” she argued.
“I’m considering another hotel acquisition, and I need my right-hand woman with me.”
“Youneeda lobotomy,” she hissed, spewing her venom at me.
She’s getting worked up. I should schedule a couples massage for us promptly. A Swedish massage on the beach sounds heavenly.
I slipped into another one of my fantasies as she ripped me apart. Her pouty lips rapidly moved, and her arms waved around frantically, but her words of disdain never reached me. All I could think of was a lovely house, two kids, and a hamster named Hamlet.
Maybe not Hamlet; that might be too on the nose. We’ll have to name it a stupid small critter name like Bubbles or Cheeks. Are my fantasies tipping into delusion? That bitchy therapist would say yes, but as the old adage goes, “Winners never quit, and quitters never win.” We can have this if Victoria’s willing to give me the time of day.
I sighed and relaxed into my chair as her tirade continued. My eyes darted to the stapler she unhinged before bouncing back to her luscious lips. I couldn’t fear for my life because everything she did seemed to endear me. Her anger was red hotand volatile, making my dick stand at full attention. I bit back a groan when an insult slipped through.
I think this solidifies that I have a nasty degradation kink. Who fucking knew? Well…to be fair…the therapist did say that. Perhaps I was too harsh with her.
“I know you’re stupid, but let me help you out one more time: I’m not going on this trip. I haveapprovedtime off, and I’m going to Miami. Go…to…Hell.”
