Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)(27)

“Right.” My hands clenched into fists, and I really didn’t want to deal with her right then. “Well, if you’re looking for someone to buy you a new wardrobe to go along with it, then you’re shit out of luck, Vanessa. I’m not interested.”

She pushed off from the car and walked closer to me on the sidewalk, heels clicking against the concrete. “Oh, come on, Tristan. Aren’t you at least a little happy to see me?”

I shook my head and took a step back. She had always known just how to play me. How to bat her eyes and slide her hand down my chest. I’d bought her plenty of gifts before I’d finally put my foot down, and she’d pouted and tried to seduce me into changing my mind until she had finally left.

“No. I’m not. You don’t get to leave someone and then just show back up expecting them to roll out the bloody welcome mat, Vanessa! What happened with you and that guy anyway? Did he finally get tired of you caring more about his wallet than him? Did you suck his bank account dry?”

She actually had the f*cking nerve to look like I’d hurt her feelings. “I actually cared about him, you know.”

“Oh, please,” I laughed. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who he was until you met him at the charity dinner my father hosted, and you didn’t look twice at him until I made it clear I wasn’t going to cater to your bullshit.”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I made a mistake?” Vanessa snapped. “Do you think I didn’t miss you? Or that it was easy for me to leave?”

“Yes! Because it was. You were here one day and gone the next; and at the next dinner party at the house, there you were, wrapped around him wearing fur and diamonds. At my parents’ house. How could you be so cold? Whatever it is you’re trying to get me to do, the answer is no. Good night.”

I turned back to the door, ready to open it.

“Tristan, wait. Just…can you hear me out, please? I miss you. I miss lying around with you on Saturday mornings and surprising you in the shower. I miss going to dinner at your parents’ place on Sundays and meeting up after work for drinks. Don’t you miss any of that?”


Yes, I did miss all those things. Rather, I had missed them — before. Now the only thing I missed was talking to Ginny and seeing her face when she came. And I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Vanessa wanted me. She was looking for her next meal ticket. And I had something better, someone better. I just needed to find the way to make it happen.

Ginny.

As soon as her name came to mind I stopped imagining those things with Vanessa and started picturing Ginny in her place. Lying on my bed on the weekend, wearing my pajama bottoms, and eating eggs, sliding open my shower door and stepping in. I could see her in a lovely dress, standing next to me on my parents’ porch while she waited to meet them for the first time, soon swapping recipes with my mother and maybe even inspiring her to start cooking again. My father would be impressed with her law knowledge, and I knew that Ginny would charm them both.

That’s what I wanted.

I knew, right then and there, that I wanted Ginny Peterson. Not Vanessa. Not another English girl. I wanted my American beauty and I would have to do something about it. “Vanessa,” I said, keeping my voice low and even. “I might miss those things, but I don’t miss you. I miss having someone give a shit about me, and not waking up alone, but I don’t miss listening to you go on and on about all the things you could have or how much richer I could be if I took a better job in my father’s company. So just…stop.”

“Tristan—”

“Stop,” I said again, punching in the code. “It’s not going to happen. Go play someone else for a f*cking fool, because it won’t be me this time. Not again.”

As I walked into my apartment, I remembered the new text message on my phone and I hoped it was Ginny.

No luck. It was my dad. I clicked on his picture, and the message read ”Get packed, the deal went through, we are leaving at midnight.”

”Where to?” I responded to the text. Fuck! Old man. That gave me less than forty-five minutes to pack and shower. And I didn’t even know where the f*ck we were going this time as there were a lot of contracts on the table. Last I knew it was bloody South Africa.

As I started the hot water in the shower, I messaged Ginny as fast as I could. “Going somewhere with Dad, will let you know. No time right now.”





Chapter 13 — Ginny





I peeked out the window and the van was still out there.

I had watched it all weekend, and it only moved a couple of times. The house across the street from ours was for sale, so there was no one to complain about it being parked outside. When I had come home from work that night, there was no one inside it, but something sharp still twisted in my gut.

It wasn’t even a threatening-looking van, not white like the stereotypical villain’s van. This one was a deep blue color, and looked like it had been used to transport kids to soccer practice or something, which made me feel even sillier for being afraid of it.

“Is it still out there?” Kari asked over the phone.

She’d apologized for being mean about Tristan, and we’d both declared it water under the bridge to focus on the more pressing matters, like what to wear to the club next Friday night. I think she could tell I wasn’t going to stop liking him just because we couldn’t be together physically, so she dropped it.