For the Plot (All for Love #1)

Chapter 12

12

Josefine

ONE YEAR LATER

“Why would I ever go back there, Mills?”

“Because,” she says, “your dad wanted you to have the time of your life in Greece and that fuckboy”—she throws her hands in the air—“ruined it. You have to go back and replace the bad memories with good ones.”

My cousin is right. Tyler irrevocably ruined what I had anticipated to be the trip of a lifetime. Though I guess he guaranteed that I’d never forget it.

Before we even landed at LAX, I was coordinating with friends to move my stuff out of his apartment. Not only did I want to get the hell away from him, but from Los Angeles too. I needed a total rebirth— Josefine’s Version , if you will—and zero distractions if I was ever going to get my life together and make it as a published author.

Lucky for me, my cousin Millie swooped in and saved the day. As soon as I called to tell her what fuckboy did, she bought a pull-out sofa from IKEA and a one-way ticket to Manhattan for me. When I made my way past baggage claim at JFK, she was waiting with a bottle of Macallan and a sign that read Welcome back from prison, Joey!

Our apartment in Washington Heights may be the size of a Barbie Dreamhouse, but we make it work. The light gray sectional that doubles as my bed is surprisingly comfortable, and the drum-shaped gold and walnut coffee table is an adorable place to store my bedding. Two large windows on one wall let in the most exquisite morning light, and most of my personal shit fits inside the television credenza on the opposite wall.

“There’s no way we can book a last-minute trip to Greece,” I say.

“That’s what you think!” Millie jumps up from the black velvet captain’s chair in the corner of her bedroom. Her obnoxious, faux-fur blanket falls to the ground in front of a gaudy, full-length mirror.

“What are you saying?” I squint at my cousin.

“Are you forgetting my landlord is also a travel agent, boo?” She grabs her phone off her nightstand. “I pulled some strings and voilà !” With a toothy grin, she unlocks the device and all but shoves it in my face.

“Please don’t tell me ‘pulled some strings’ is a euphemism for ‘sucked his cock.’”

She roars with laughter, and the phone slips from her hand and bounces on the black-and-white checkered rug.

“Bitch, why do you always think I’m slipping sexual favors to Gideon?”

“Because he’s letting me live here without a sublease.” I pick up her phone, then pass it to her. “If you’re not sleeping with him, he’s definitely trying to win his way into your pants.”

“I can’t help it if everyone wants a piece of this,” she says, flinging her strawberry-blond hair back dramatically like she’s Cindy Crawford in a Pepsi commercial. With a step closer, she brings the phone up so I’m forced to look at the screen. There, in bold colors, is an Instagram grid dedicated solely to an all-inclusive resort on the island of Crete.

“Even if I wanted to go back,” I say, my attention caught on the pictures in paradise, “I can’t afford it. I only took that trip because my dad left money specifically for it.” Plus, moving across the country was pricey.

“Funny you should say that.” Millie’s eyes sparkle. “My mom mentioned recently that your dad left backup money with her.”

“Backup money? What does that mean?”

“Apparently he left a chunk of money with my mom, along with a note that said For a rainy day: In case my baby girl needs it. Keep it safe for her until she does . Or something like that.”

Tears flood my eyes, fogging my vision. My dad has been gone for thirteen years, yet he’s still taking care of me, his baby girl, even from the afterlife.

“I’d say this qualifies as a rainy day, boo.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder. “My mom agrees. She’s going to wire the money into your account first thing in the morning. So pack your condoms and sluttiest clothes, bitch, ’cause we’re about to fuck some Greek gods.”