texts. You don’t know how worried I was about you,” she gushes and hugs me tight.
“Ashley, I spent more than 24 hours with Tristan Grant in an elevator,” I announce with enthusiasm.
“I’m amazed that you sound so pleased about it…”
“At first I thought he was stuffy, controlling and arrogant but…”
“You fell for him? That’s unusual,” she exclaims with shock. She’s looking at me in a curious way.
“We had an earth-shaking connection on the elevator, Ash,” I joke and then decide to change the topic from me, to him. “The only problem is that he was injured during our rescue effort.” I tell Ashley the gory details of Tristan’s fall.
“I’ll help you investigate his location, after we’ve had some dinner,” she promises. “Then, I need to write up a story about your adventure during the earthquake. I can describe your rescue and his charitable support of our psychology program for my last take home final in creative writing.” I reach in my purse and give Ashley a brochure about PCC. She calls a take-out restaurant for dinner.
The next week flies by in hyper speed. We complete our final exams, I work my last few days at Dayton’s and we begin packing for our move to Mission Beach. Our new place is near the ocean and on a large sand bar. My best guy-friend, Juan, helps us load and clean the apartment that Ashley and I shared during our four years at SDSU. I’ve heard nothing from Bailey nor from Tristan, for that matter. Our attempt to find Tristan’s current location comes up empty. It’s as though he’s disappeared from the planet. I’m growing increasingly agitated with our lack of contact. All calls to PCC go to voice mail. I can understand why my messages aren’t being returned. The building was in disarray when I last saw it. Weeks could pass before PCC is up and operational again, especially if their CEO is out of commission for a while.
My one consolation is that we’ll soon be living nearby and I’ll be close enough to check on the progress of his building and hopefully, Tristan himself. On the morning of my commencement, I see that I’ve missed a voicemail. It’s from Tony Bailey. “Mr. Grant’s regained consciousness. We’ve been in Temecula. I’ll call soon with an update on when we’re returning to San Diego.”
At least Bailey was true to his word and called. I sigh with relief just knowing that Tristan sounds better. I hope that Tristan will call me himself and soon. Maybe they’re enroute to San Diego now. I grab my cap and gown and head out to meet Rob for commencement. My mother Carmen can’t be there. She needs to help husband number four, Bob, with a real estate deal. I’m not surprised about Carmen’s no show for my graduation. The men in mom’s life always take priority over me.
Ashley and I hang out during the ceremony. She’s just had another breakup with a loser guy. Ashley’s had the worst luck with boyfriends. That’s another reason why I’ve been reluctant to date. Every few months, Ashley’s fallen in love with another lothario and then reduced to tears and wearing black smocks when things don’t work out.
Rob takes me out to dinner after the ceremony ends. I tell him more about my finals, the celebration that the Dayton’s had for me on my last day at work, and some of my adventures during the earthquake. I omit most of the information about my partner on the elevator since dad wouldn’t know who Tristan Grant happened to be. Besides that, so much time has elapsed since my last encounter with Tristan that I’m beginning to question whether our connection was real. Maybe my overactive hormones took over. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to imagine that he really wanted me as much as I wanted him. On the other hand, when I remember how thrilled he was to find me in his arms after his nightmare, I know it was magic. I must find him, soon.
Moving day arrives at last and my phone
“Ashley, I spent more than 24 hours with Tristan Grant in an elevator,” I announce with enthusiasm.
“I’m amazed that you sound so pleased about it…”
“At first I thought he was stuffy, controlling and arrogant but…”
“You fell for him? That’s unusual,” she exclaims with shock. She’s looking at me in a curious way.
“We had an earth-shaking connection on the elevator, Ash,” I joke and then decide to change the topic from me, to him. “The only problem is that he was injured during our rescue effort.” I tell Ashley the gory details of Tristan’s fall.
“I’ll help you investigate his location, after we’ve had some dinner,” she promises. “Then, I need to write up a story about your adventure during the earthquake. I can describe your rescue and his charitable support of our psychology program for my last take home final in creative writing.” I reach in my purse and give Ashley a brochure about PCC. She calls a take-out restaurant for dinner.
The next week flies by in hyper speed. We complete our final exams, I work my last few days at Dayton’s and we begin packing for our move to Mission Beach. Our new place is near the ocean and on a large sand bar. My best guy-friend, Juan, helps us load and clean the apartment that Ashley and I shared during our four years at SDSU. I’ve heard nothing from Bailey nor from Tristan, for that matter. Our attempt to find Tristan’s current location comes up empty. It’s as though he’s disappeared from the planet. I’m growing increasingly agitated with our lack of contact. All calls to PCC go to voice mail. I can understand why my messages aren’t being returned. The building was in disarray when I last saw it. Weeks could pass before PCC is up and operational again, especially if their CEO is out of commission for a while.
My one consolation is that we’ll soon be living nearby and I’ll be close enough to check on the progress of his building and hopefully, Tristan himself. On the morning of my commencement, I see that I’ve missed a voicemail. It’s from Tony Bailey. “Mr. Grant’s regained consciousness. We’ve been in Temecula. I’ll call soon with an update on when we’re returning to San Diego.”
At least Bailey was true to his word and called. I sigh with relief just knowing that Tristan sounds better. I hope that Tristan will call me himself and soon. Maybe they’re enroute to San Diego now. I grab my cap and gown and head out to meet Rob for commencement. My mother Carmen can’t be there. She needs to help husband number four, Bob, with a real estate deal. I’m not surprised about Carmen’s no show for my graduation. The men in mom’s life always take priority over me.
Ashley and I hang out during the ceremony. She’s just had another breakup with a loser guy. Ashley’s had the worst luck with boyfriends. That’s another reason why I’ve been reluctant to date. Every few months, Ashley’s fallen in love with another lothario and then reduced to tears and wearing black smocks when things don’t work out.
Rob takes me out to dinner after the ceremony ends. I tell him more about my finals, the celebration that the Dayton’s had for me on my last day at work, and some of my adventures during the earthquake. I omit most of the information about my partner on the elevator since dad wouldn’t know who Tristan Grant happened to be. Besides that, so much time has elapsed since my last encounter with Tristan that I’m beginning to question whether our connection was real. Maybe my overactive hormones took over. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to imagine that he really wanted me as much as I wanted him. On the other hand, when I remember how thrilled he was to find me in his arms after his nightmare, I know it was magic. I must find him, soon.
Moving day arrives at last and my phone
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