Chapter 5 #2
"Get it together, Gina." I lecture myself as I pull up outside the main residence. My eyes widen as I take in how vast it is. This house is even more grandiose than I expected. I swallow hard as I park my dinky, slightly dented car behind a Jaguar and just sit there for a few moments. I wish I had chosen to dress a little more upscale. I stare at my loose-fitting khaki pants and then reapply some lipstick to my pale lips. I stare at myself in the rearview mirror and practice the professional smile I will offer the Waverlys when I meet them. I don’t want to come off as too eager and make them regret hiring me.
I run my fingers through my hair and put it up into a ponytail.
Then I twist it into a bun. I look like a dowdy librarian—not the sexy, intellectual kind.
I sigh as I let my hair back down, and it just hangs there limply, with slightly frizzy waves.
Today is not a good hair day. I definitely don’t look like I’ve stepped out of a hair commercial for Revlon.
"Get to it, Gina." I stare at my nails and then get out of the Jeep.
“This is not the time to be internally chastising yourself for your lack of a beauty regimen.” I step down and look around before slamming the door shut.
I spy two tennis courts to the right and what appears to be a pool house and pool to the left of the house.
“Wow,” I mumble under my breath as I make my way to the house.
I decide to leave my suitcase in the car until later so that it will give me an excuse to come back out, just in case I get too overwhelmed.
I’m happy that I’m thinking ahead. Emma has instilled in me the importance of knowing oneself and anticipating one's emotions so you have space to process. Since thinking about and honestly analyzing how I may react in certain situations and being prepared for that, I’ve strengthened my mental health tremendously.
My heart is in my throat as I make my way toward the home, and I stop dead about ten yards away from the stone stairs that lead to the massive door.
I can't do this. I can't live in this mansion and spy for a story.
I don't belong here. I am a Spellman. We are loud, we are excitable, we wear our hearts on our sleeves, and I will out myself faster than I can say out myself.
My family is as middle-class as they come.
Blue collar is our middle name, and I'm proud of that.
We work hard. We earn our money, and we spend our money, and we bitch and moan about twenty-dollar rises in electricity bills.
We do not live in beachside mansions on estates larger than some of the smaller islands next to us.
I should leave. I'm about to turn around and run back to my car when a small, fluffy golden dog runs down the stairs towards me and then passes me.
"Bear Gryllis, come here." A high-pitched voice squeals, and I watch as an older lady with long white hair comes flying down the stairs behind him.
The dog turns back around, runs up to me, and jumps up, its hind legs fully stretched as it buries its nose into the palm of my hand.
Its light-brown eyes look into mine eagerly, and I rub the top of its curly golden-brown head.
"Bear..." the lady huffs and stops in front of me. "Oh, hello, dear."
"Hi, Mrs. Waverly?" I hold my hand out. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Gina. Gina Spellman."
"Mrs. Waverly?" She looks taken aback, and a light flashes in her eyes as she studies my face.
Her eyes are a light blue, and she has a warm smile.
She's wearing a long white dress, lots of silver bangles, and a purple top with sparkly pink sequins. She's definitely a beautiful older woman, but much more eccentric-looking than I imagined she would be. Her earrings appear to be mini wooden rolling pins. She’s definitely not the epitome of rich and glamorous, but that almost makes me like her more. She’s not flaunting her wealth at all.
“I’m not sure if your husband told you, but he hired me to write your love story.”
“My husband?”
“Mr. Waverly... Preston." I say his name stiffly. It feels a bit disrespectful to call him Preston when I didn't even know him.
"He hired you to write our love story?" Her lips twist up, and she throws her hands up in laughter. "Well, that would be a fine thing, wouldn't it?"
"Sorry, what?"
"Sorry, deary, let me introduce myself. I'm not Mrs. Waverly. Not at all. Enid is inside the writing room. My name is Amethyst Baxter, and I am a part of the writing group."
"The writing group?" I ask, slightly confused. "What writing group?"
"We're the Whisper Cove Hemingways." She beams, and I watch as she looks me over keenly. "You should join the group, seeing as you're a writer, as well. Your aura tells me that you enjoy dramatic comedies."
"My aura?" I rub my forehead and watch as Bear goes running to the grass and lifts up his leg. I turn back to Amethyst and question her. "What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, I'm psychic, dear." She taps her forehead and then points at me. "Though I try not to tell too many people. It's a responsibility to have these powers." She lowers her voice, which makes me nervous.
"Powers?" I consider running back to my Jeep and driving off as quickly as I can. I'm not looking to stay in a mansion where a crazy person loiters and hangs out.
"Mostly poetry skills, but sometimes people come to me."
"People come to you?" I have no idea what she's talking about, and I regret asking her a question I don't really want to know the answer to.
"FDR, Mandela, and other notables. One time, Ernest Hemingway came to me and told me that Shakespeare considered me to be the greatest living poet.
" She closes her eyes and sways back and forth.
"The bard made my day, he did." Her voice changes to a British accent, and I wonder if Amethyst is someone I will have a lot of contact with. I sure hope not. She’s batty.
"Well, I should be going. Today is my first day, and I don't want the Waverlys to think that I'm late or anything."
"Come on, dear. Let's go inside. Come on, Bear Gryllis, pee-pee time is done.
" The dog ignores her, and I watch as he runs down the driveway toward the gate.
"Bear, come here," she calls out, but he doesn't stop.
"Would you mind getting him?" she asks, rubbing the top of her thighs. "My legs don't move like they used to."
"Uh, sure." I start running down the driveway after the dog, questioning every life choice that got me here today.
Maybe this is my karma for acting like a fool last week, pretending I was in the FBI.
I feel myself getting winded as I chase the mini goldendoodle, who seems to think this is some sort of game because he's not slowing down, even though he keeps glancing over his little shoulder to look at me.
"Bear," I call out loudly, and then stop suddenly because I see a half-naked man pushing a lawnmower.
"Damn," I mutter under my breath as I admire the man's physique.
I am trying really hard not to stare, but he doesn't have his shirt on, and even though he's over twenty feet away from me, I can see that he has the most muscular body I’ve seen in a long time.
He's a TEN in all the right ways, and he has abs that go on for days. The man looks like a million dollars, though I can’t see his face well, as he has on a cap and dark sunglasses.
I wonder if he's the gardener. I'm about to go over and introduce myself to him, even though he's not paying attention to me, when Bear comes running up to me and jumps on me.
"Hey, Bear," I say, trying not to scowl at the dog. Now he wants to come up to me? When I’ve finally got a reason to just stop and enjoy the view?
"Come along, dear. Come along. Let's get you inside," Amethyst calls, and I groan under my breath because right now, I would like to meet the hot guy in the yard and not what may be a bunch of weirdos inside the mansion.
I mean, I do have to admit that I'm excited to see what the home looks like, but I want to meet Mr. Hottie first. I’m long overdue for a meet and greet with a sexy man.
It's not like I've never been in expensive houses, because Emma's family has the most expensive, grandiose house I've ever seen, but the Waverlys were next-level rich.
"I'm coming," I say, and I watch as Bear runs toward Amethyst, tail wagging, tongue hanging out. Bear is one of the happiest dogs I’ve ever seen in my life.
Amethyst giggles like a schoolgirl as she picks up his wiggling body and waves me to come along.
Her skirt and hair are swaying in the wind, and it suddenly hits me that this lady is living her life to the fullest, on her own terms. I can respect that.
Even if she does appear to be slightly kooky.
I peek back at the man with a hopeful glance, though he doesn't appear to have seen me. He certainly didn’t spy me and think that he had to make my acquaintance before I got away. I’ve watched far too many Hallmark romance movies.
"Oh, well, if he works here, I'll get to meet him later," I mumble under my breath. I'll have to make sure that I remember to put on makeup and blow-dry my hair each morning, just in case I come in contact with him. I suddenly realize that I didn’t pack any makeup but lip gloss, and I have zero cute outfits. I need to rectify that immediately. Now that I know I will be working with a hot gardener, I have to step up my game. Even if nothing comes of it, at least I’ll be able to engage in some fun, flirty banter.
I need something to get me out of my funk about Patrick.
"Thank you very much for running to get Bear. I do appreciate it." Amethyst’s voice is airy as we reach the front of the house. "What did you say your name was again? Tina?”
“It's Gina. Gina Spellman.”