Novels by Ginny

The next morning I stayed in bed longer than usual, listening.The house had its own particular quiet in the early hours, a thin, careful silence that still carried the residue of the night before. I lay on my side facing the door, sheets kicked down to my waist, and tracked every small sound that reached me through the walls.Vanessa’s alarm went off at the usual time, sharp, digital, and brief. Drawers opened in the master bedroom. Water ran in the master bathroom, then stopped. Their voices moved back and forth in low morning tones for a few minutes, the cadence of two people who had shared a bed and a life long enough that most of the words were unnecessary. Then the front door closed with its familiar soft thud, followed by the sound of her car starting and leaving the driveway. The engine faded until there was nothing left of it.I waited through another stretch of quiet, ears tuned for any remaining movement downstairs. A floorboard. The study door. Footsteps. When none came, I

The interview ended at three forty-seven.I knew the exact time because I checked my phone the moment I stepped out of the glass building downtown, fingers unsteady, the polite rejection still echoing in my ears. The hiring manager had been kind, even encouraging about my background, but the role had been filled internally two days earlier. They had decided to honor the interview anyway as a courtesy to the referral. A courtesy. The word sat in my chest like something sharp.I took an Uber back to the house in silence, staring out the window without seeing the city. By the time the car turned onto Vanessa’s street, the disappointment had settled into a heavier, quieter thing. Not devastation, just the familiar weight of another door closing after I had allowed myself to hope.The gate opened. I paid the driver, walked inside, and stood in the entryway longer than necessary, keys still in my hand. Vanessa was still at work. The house was still and sunlit and far too large for the way I

Morning light filtered through the curtains earlier than I wanted it to.I had slept in fragments, the conversation in the hallway replaying in pieces every time I drifted close to rest. Liam’s voice asking if I was planning the next exit. The quiet gravity when he confirmed he was happy with Vanessa. The way the air had felt thinner simply because he was standing close. My resolve from the night before still existed, but it felt less like a solid wall and more like something I had to keep actively holding in place.I dressed, pulled my hair into a loose knot, and went downstairs determined to treat the day like a practical one. Coffee. Applications. A walk to the coffee shop he had recommended if the walls started closing in. Nothing more.Vanessa was already in the kitchen, blazer on, phone in one hand, coffee in the other. She looked up and smiled.“Morning. I have to leave in ten minutes. There’s yogurt and fruit if you want it. Liam’s around, he has a late start today.”“Thanks.”

Vanessa came home at six-thirty with the bright, slightly rushed energy of someone who had spent the day moving from one meeting to the next and was genuinely glad to be finished. She dropped her bag by the console table, kicked off her heels, and pulled me into a quick hug that smelled like her perfume and the outside air.“Tell me everything,” she said, already heading toward the kitchen. “Did you eat? Did you get any work done? Did Liam behave?”I followed, smiling in a way that felt almost natural. “Résumé is mostly done. He recommended a coffee place called Meridian. I might go tomorrow.”“Good. He knows all the quiet spots.” She opened the fridge, scanning its contents with the efficiency of someone who planned dinners the way other people planned meetings. “He’s still in the study, I assume?”“He was when I last saw him.”She called down the hallway, voice warm. “Liam? I’m home. Are you coming up for air or should I send a search party?”A moment later his footsteps approached.

I woke to the smell of coffee and a low male voice downstairs. For a second the soft duvet and pale light through expensive curtains felt like someone else’s life. Then memory hit: dark eyes, a warm firm handshake, black trousers that clung too honestly, and the thick, heavy outline I had no right to notice.Liam.I groaned into the pillow. Last night I’d promised to be sensible, update the résumé, send applications, stop replaying the exact shape of him. My body ignored every instruction. I’d dreamed of his voice against my ear, rolled sleeves pinning my wrists, that low chuckle while he pressed closer. I woke restless, skin too warm, a slow pulse already throbbing between my thighs.This was going to be a problem.I stayed under the shower longer than necessary, turning the water colder. It didn’t help. The memory of him in the kitchen last night, tall, controlled, the soft bulge impossible to unsee, kept surfacing. I dried off, dressed in jeans and a soft gray top, and forced mysel

The last thing I wanted was to move back in with my older sister at twenty-five.Unfortunately, life had never cared what I wanted.I stared through the taxi window as Atlanta’s skyline came into view, forehead pressed to the cool glass. Three years abroad, one failed career, and too many bad decisions had dragged me right back to the beginning.Home. Or rather, my sister’s house.My phone buzzed.Vanessa: Where are you?Me: Almost there.Vanessa: I’ve been waiting! Did you eat?I smiled despite myself. That was Vanessa, location and stomach in the same breath.The taxi turned onto a quiet street of enormous houses and manicured lawns. When we stopped in front of hers, I almost told the driver to turn around. Two stories of pale stone and glass sat behind a black gate. Warm lights glowed through the windows. A dark SUV and a sleek black sedan waited in the driveway like they belonged in a magazine.I paid the driver, dragged my suitcase out, and pressed the intercom. The gate opened a