Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)(4)

“Dad — Dad, I promise, I’ll be ready for dinner, don’t worry, old man.” I calmly explained to my father over the phone as I found my swim trunks and tossed them onto the massive bed that dominated the bedroom of my plush hotel suite.

“Yes, I said I’ll be ready. I’m just — okay — I said okay. Bye now.” Thank God he knew when to give up trying to beat me into doing things his way, because I could be as stubborn as he was. I was glad to be able to end the conversation before it got any worse and focus on getting dressed. Ginny had arranged to meet me at the front of the hotel at twelve-thirty, and it was only eleven now, so I had plenty of time.

The last thing I’d expected, two days before going home, was to find someone so interesting, and in a club of all places. I’d only gone there because it was close to the hotel, and after a boring day of client meetings with my father, I just wanted to have a couple of drinks, some friendly conversation and unwind.

Usually my kind of fun started with a drink in my hand and a pretty girl on my arm. It normally ended with me leaving her house the next morning and texting my best friend Mike in order to have breakfast somewhere with him, but last night had been different.

For one thing, Mike was back in England, probably getting ready to head to the pub with the rest of our mates since it was Saturday night there now; and for another, I actually had no real intentions of trying to get into Ginny’s knickers. Not because I wasn’t interested, because I was, but she was different from the kind of girl I usually went for. She was lively and vivacious, and above all, she was fun. The social circles I moved in were generally friends of my parents, so I rarely got to meet hot women who weren’t the wealthy, aristocratic type, spoiled by their daddies, judgmental and bitchy.

I was leaving in less than twenty-four hours, and that was barely enough time to do anything. I wasn’t about to tell her I had money and came from a well-known family back in England. In the time I’d spent with her the night before, Ginny and her friend Kari had treated me like I was just a normal bloke, like there was nothing more special about me than my accent and the fact that I “talked funny”. It had been a very enjoyable night of drinking, dancing and answering their questions about the differences between the States and England.

Kari had been entertaining, but for some reason, I was looking forward to spending time with Ginny, without her sardonic best friend. She just seemed like the kind of girl who I’d get along with. Ambitious, without being cutthroat about it, and with a shy sweetness that I would have thought was little more than an act if I hadn’t watched her blush so many times at the club.


I smiled, thinking about the way we’d parted the night before. Me kissing her on the cheek while Kari went to call them a cab back to their house. Ginny’s eyes had been so wide and her face flushed from the little kiss I’d given her. I wanted to brush her hair back behind her ear and kiss her properly, but it would have led to all kinds of things I didn’t think she wanted, so I’d maintained a polite distance until their car came. While walking back to my hotel, alone, enjoying the freshness of a California summer’s night, I thought about the incredible girl I just met…

I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost eleven thirty, so I made my way to the huge, overdone bathroom in my suite to shower, shave and lather on the sunscreen so I wouldn’t fry to a bloody crisp in the strong California sunshine.

Forty minutes later, I was dressed in my swim trunks — baggy, black, and long enough to pass for shorts — matched with a pale gray t-shirt; I shoved my feet into my flip-flops. I cracked another smile remembering Kari and Ginny giggling for ages like little schoolchildren when they’d found out I had an Australian coworker who called them “thongs”. I grabbed my sunglasses, wallet and sunscreen before heading out to the front of the hotel to wait for Ginny.

“Heading out, Mr. Armstrong?” the concierge asked as I walked past the front desk.

“Yes, for a bit. Going down to the beach for the afternoon. Can’t come to the coast and not spend some time sunbathing, eh?”

“Quite true. Do you need anything, sir? We could call for a car or arrange a guide for you. Whatever you’d like.”

I sighed inside, but kept the false smile on my face. “No need. I’m going with a friend, and I’m sure she can show me anything I want to see, since she lives here. But thank you for your hospitality.”

The older man simply nodded and turned to go about his business. Sometimes, just sometimes, it would be nice to not be treated as someone high profile who had to be sucked up to and made to feel important. That just wasn’t me at all. I was reasonably polite to everyone because my parents brought me up right and Dad would rightly have my head if I ever gave them or the company a bad name, but sometimes I just wanted to tell them all to f*ck off!

Instead of giving into that urge, I went out the front of the hotel and immediately put my sunglasses on to shield my eyes from the bright LA sun. The sidewalk was a hive of activity, with people loading and unloading cars with luggage and bellhops running back and forth. I couldn’t believe how the heat never seemed to bother anyone. Granted, it was pretty dry. It was nothing like the humidity and rain back home. In fact, Southern California practically had guaranteed sunshine, and I had never been to the beach, so I was well chuffed.

I was leaning against the side of the hotel when a yellow Volkswagen Beetle pulled up to the curb with the convertible top down. Ginny gave me a beautiful smile as she lifted her sunglasses to look at me.