I’m afraid if I don’t arrive there on time, they’re going to send me back because they already hired someone better—or more available. Maybe that’s why I am packing as fast as I can.

Mom offers to come over the weekend to clean the apartment. Thomas is coming on Friday to help me with whatever is left. He is moving some of the stuff I’m not taking with me to New York to storage. Reggie is staying with my parents for now. Thomas will drive Reggie to New York in June, so the pup doesn’t have to deal with the plane. He’s too big to be allowed inside the cabin.

I’m confident my family is fine with what’s happening, until the doorbell rings and there’s a knock. Typical Solis move, we can’t just do one thing or wait for the other party to come to the door. Nikki uses her keys to open the door.

That’s it, no one is getting copies of the keys to my apartment in New York.

“Do you need help packing?” she asks, holding up a bag of takeout. “Or we can just sit down, have some sushi and fried rice. I even got you a tub of frosting.”

On the other hand, she’s holding a container with Mom’s writing on it.

“I’ll get the spoons,” I say, taking the chocolate and strawberry frosting from her hand.

“Dinner first,” she says firmly.

“God, when did you become an adult?” I grunt.

Nikki gets busy pouring me some wine and getting some water for herself.

“Why are you leaving?” she says, without warning or some messed up preamble into the conversation. “There’s more to the whole, ‘I have a great offer’ thing. Isn’t there?”

“They gave the position I wanted to the guy who keeps stealing shit from me?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I’ll be gone for three to five years,” I explain. “This opportunity fell into my lap. I can’t waste it.”

She nods, as she’s taking a bite of her food. “You can’t lie for shit.”

“I can,” I stammer.

Nikki laughs and takes a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry to break it to you, sweetie, but you can’t.”

“Hey, I have secrets that no one knows,” I say.

“Secrets yes, but hiding the truth is different. Do you think I still believe you didn’t break my heels?”

I open my mouth and close it when she waves her index finger. “And don’t get me started about my denim jacket. I know Nancy Andrews took it.”

“Your point?”

“You’re acting like your life is over, so, it’s reasonable to assume that something catastrophic happened between the time you got that offer and the time you accepted the position,” she says.