Chapter 4
Chapter Four
ELLA
I realized that the terrible pain in my stomach was a bad case of nerves when I picked up my cup of coffee and couldn’t drink more than one sip. The last job interview I’d had was for a salesclerk job at the local drugstore, and there wasn’t really an interview. The manager said I was the only person to fill out the application without misspelling the word pharmacy . Not exactly a glowing start to my dull career behind the drugstore counter. The only question I had to answer was could I be at work by seven in the morning.
Ava and Layla went to breakfast at the café so that I’d have the house to myself. I’d brushed my hair so much it had started to float away from my head with static electricity. I checked the lighting in every room and decided to sit at the kitchen table. I turned on the camera and realized that last night’s dishes were still piled on the counter. I got up and lowered them into the sink and sat back down. Nonna’s favorite rooster cookie jar sat on the counter behind me. It gave the whole background scene a homey feel, so I left it.
Andrea May had already sent the link. I clicked it and stared at myself as I waited patiently for the meeting host to arrive. The nerves hadn’t settled yet, but at least my hair seemed to be staying put.
Seconds later, a woman with tinted pink hair and a kind smile appeared on the screen. She had emerald green glasses surrounding equally green eyes. “Good morning, Ella. Is it all right if I call you Ella?”
“Of course.” My hands had been doing something stupid with the end of my sweater, so I placed them on my thighs.
“And please, call me Andie. First, let me say I was impressed with the story sample you sent. Your grandmother, Nonna, right?”
“Yes, that was what we called her.”
“She sounds like a dream. I had two grandmothers. One was already quite old and hard of hearing by the time I was old enough to form memories. I remember her handing me a glass of water in her kitchen, and she had a bunch of blue dishes on a rack next to the stove. She’d made a big pitcher of lemonade, which I eyed greedily, but she told me lemonade was for the grown-ups. She died of a stroke a year later, leaving me with only that one memory of her. The other grandmother was the plastic-on-the-couch and stale butterscotch-candies-in-the-candy-dish type. You and your sisters were so lucky to have Nonna.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Well, enough of those trips down memory lane. Let’s get down to business.” Andie opened a notebook. “We have a Friday afternoon deadline each week. That gives us time to edit the piece and get it ready for Monday publication. You get paid by the piece. Five hundred dollars for a thousand words. We offer a group health insurance plan, which you’ll have to contribute to if you’re interested in joining. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful.”
“Great, then can you start next week?”
I stared back at her, wondering if I’d heard correctly. “Next week?”
“We could really use you on board. Our reader base has grown a lot this year, and we need to keep creating interesting content. I’d love to add your voice and unique take on things to our publication.” I was stunned into silence, but she took it as hesitation. “Of course, you’ll want some time to think it over. I’m sorry if I’m being pushy. It’s just the editing team really loved your sample work.”
“Uh, yes, I mean, no, I don’t need time to think it over. I’d be thrilled to work for Stories We Love. And next week will be fine.”
She clapped once. “I’m so thrilled, Ella.” She patted the notebook on her desk. “I have your first assignment. I’ll give you the basics and then send you a more detailed version after we leave the call.” She moved her finger down the notebook. “We’d like a five-to-six-episode series about Grimstone Manor.” She looked up and noticed my stunned expression. “Have you heard of it?”
“Grimstone Manor? Yes, uh, it was the source of a few good dares and scares during my childhood. My friends and I used to ride our bicycles up to the property and then ride down the hill screaming in terror.”
“There are rumors that the place is cursed. Previous owners have met some rather unfortunate ends, starting with Margaret Grimstone, the woman who had it built. Do you know anything about its history?”
“My grandmother used to tell us stories about it, but mostly we just thought of it as the obligatory neighborhood haunted house. It’s been empty for most of my life.”
“Last month, I spoke to the realtor trying to sell the place.” She glanced down at the paper. “Hannah Jensen. She said the place had been on the market for years with no offers. She mentioned that there were lots of old things, books, journals, photos left behind through the years, mostly in the attic. She said she’d be happy to let a journalist inside to have a look around. You might find some interesting artifacts that add to your articles. Ms. Jensen thought the publicity might help sell the place.”
My heart sank with each word. How could I possibly do this assignment after my run-in with the new owner? “Actually, Andie, the place sold since you last spoke to Hannah. The new owner paid cash. I doubt he’d appreciate me traipsing through the house on my quest to prove that he purchased a cursed manor. I do have an inside scoop on a new bakery coming to Whisper Cove. I could write about that.”
Andie frowned, and I worried I’d just blown my job offer to bits.
“A new bakery is certainly fun, but it’s not a story. I would really like you to write about Grimstone Manor. Maybe the new owner wouldn’t mind letting you look around. If not, there are plenty of news articles about the various owners. I just think firsthand artifacts will give the stories more pizzazz. So, can I expect the first episode next Friday?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, next Friday. Great. I’ll get to work on it right away.”
“Terrific. I’ll send you some employee forms to fill out and the details on what we expect in your first assignment. Again, Ella, we’re happy to have you on board.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, and I won’t let you down.”
We signed off, and I released a long, disappointed sigh. It had been going so great, right up to the moment when I heard about my assignment. If it had been any other cursed old house, I would have been thrilled. It would have been a fantastic first assignment. A month ago, I would have been excited to write about Grimstone Manor. I knew a few details here and there about the place but not many. There were enough misfortunes connected with the house to earn it a spot as one of the west coast’s most cursed homes. But now there was a new owner, and I’d managed to get off to a really bad start with the man.
My phone buzzed. It was Layla. “How did it go?”
“I got the job.”
She sent back the celebration emoji. I set my phone down. “Cookies,” I muttered. Nonna always took a plate of cookies to new neighbors, and they loved her instantly for it. The man was new in town. Maybe a plate of cookies would help him forget that I basically called him a strange, grim sucker.
I deflated in the chair and sank down in despair. “Seriously, El, you and your big mouth.”