Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)(9)



It was going to be a long, long flight. The captain did tell us over the intercom, but I didn’t pay much attention. Something like seven and a half hours to Newfoundland to refuel, then another five hours forty minutes to Heathrow. About fifteen hours altogether; it was going to be around 6 a.m. when we landed. Losing those eight hours was probably going to kill me.

The on-board chef had prepared a lovely piece of venison with seasonal vegetables followed by crème br?lée and our usual coffee and brandy, so Dad and I ate lunch together and chatted about what we had to do the next day so we could kick back for the remainder of the flight.

I left him to read his Sunday Times and got up and moved to the plush sofas in the forward part of the plane to chill out for a bit. I put on a movie, “Captain Phillips”, which I’d wanted to see for a long time, but my mind kept drifting to Ginny. I finally got to the point where I was just staring at the big-screen TV without taking in any of the action or dialogue.

I thought about her face, the way she laughed, her cute little nose and her voice was still so fresh in my mind. I went back to grab my laptop again from the overhead locker and settled back down on to the sofa. I sat for a moment before flipping it open, thinking about what I would say. I finally opened it, clicked on Facebook, and found her again. While I was looking at her photos, and reading about her life in detail, I realized I wanted to know everything about her. From the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Everything she’d added to her profile, her friends, schools, employment, everything. And to be honest, I imagined what it could be like to be a part of her life.

Questions flew through my mind. Am I stupid? Acting like a schoolboy? Can it work? What if it does? If Dad is looking around Los Angeles to develop, I could move there. Maybe she’ll already find someone else in LA anyway. But what if she doesn’t? Fuck! I wish I could talk to her.

I was using logic to try and talk myself out of getting involved with her, yet she’d been so captivating the day before, and my left-brain wanted to know more about her. I rationalized that I could at least send her the odd text message to say “hi” from time to time. There’d be no harm in that, and who knows? Maybe we’d meet for a coffee or a drink next time I was back in Los Angeles. That would be nice.

I’d never felt like this about anyone before, and after what seemed like a thousand more questions entered my head, I had to give in to fatigue. It had been an early start and I had to work the next day, so I lay down and pulled up a blanket. My eyelids grew heavy, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, the low hum of the engines had me drifting off to sleep in no time at all.





It seemed as if I’d only been sleeping for half an hour or so when the gentle nudge from Tracy, our flight attendant, woke me. “Sir? We’re landing in twenty minutes Mr. Armstrong and the captain just wanted me to make sure you’re buckled in safe before we touch down.”

Bleary-eyed, I lay still for another few seconds, glanced across at my dad —who looked sickeningly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed — then dutifully complied. I’d missed breakfast but what the hell, sleep had been more important. As I stumbled back to my seat, I looked out of the window at the grey skies over England. After what seemed like just a few minutes, I felt the bump of the wheels touching down on the tarmac at Heathrow and I knew I’d soon be home in my apartment. Hopefully the chauffeur was already waiting for us at the terminal.






Chapter 5 — Ginny





Monday morning found me and Kari back at work, sitting at our desks in the Westin Reed Law Offices. There was a good pile of work to do, but since I was the queen of multitasking, I could chat with Kari in a Skype window on my computer while I compiled research for a case.

Kari had spent the whole weekend at her parents’ house, so she hadn’t heard any of the details of my day with Tristan, and she was chomping at the bit to get information.

Kari Ann: So. How did the beach trip go? Did you two get sand in private places?

Ginny :P: No, nothing like that, you pervert. It was nice, we just mostly talked and swam and stuff like that. Normal stuff, not pervert Kari kind of stuff.

Kari Ann: Whatever. Did you at least get a look at him without his shirt on? Because I could tell, he was hiding a body under those clothes at the club on Friday.

Ginny :P: Yeah. He has so many tattoos! I have no idea how he manages to work in business with tattoos all up and down his arms and chest. There was this cool tribal dragon on his arm and some flowers. Bad boy :)

Kari Ann: I knew I was getting a rebel child vibe from him even under all of that Brit politeness. I bet he’s a nasty boy when he’s with his friends.

Ginny :P: Kari, that’s gross.

Kari Ann: No, it’s not! It’s a fact of life, baby girl. All the most polite men are freaks in the sheets. They’re into all that kinky stuff like bondage and s&m.

My face was on fire as I clicked away from the Skype window to type in a citation on my work. I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation while I was at work about whether or not the guy I’d just met and said goodbye to was into kinky sex. But then, it really wasn’t so strange a thing to talk about with Kari. She didn’t have the same filters most other people seemed to have.

The little icon was bouncing up and down, indicating that Kari had sent me another message when I’d failed to respond to the first one, and I was almost afraid to look at it. All I needed was one of the attorneys to come by to ask for some information and see how red my face was.

Amanda Heartley's Books