Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gina
As I finally drive through the wrought iron gates of the Waverly Estate, I feel a release of pent-up tension.
I feel like a princess who has escaped a tower, and I turn on the radio to listen to some music to calm my nerves.
Driving through the wealthier part of Whisper Cove always reminds me of everything I don't have. There have been many times in my life that I’ve looked at the large mansions and the expensive foreign cars and wondered to myself what life was like inside those ivory tower properties.
Now I know, and I’m not as envious as I once was.
I’m not sure how I feel exactly. My feelings of peace increase with every mile I drive away from the mansion.
I feel less overwhelmed now that I’m away from the Waverlys.
I felt claustrophobic and slightly scared when I was there.
I was nervous I’d be found out as some sort of spy, and then when I saw Hunter, everything felt magnified. I needed to escape home.
I don’t want to think about my worries any longer, so I turn the radio up and sing along to the nineties Britney Spears song that is playing and tap my fingers against the steering wheel.
When I pull up outside my home, I close my eyes and say a quick prayer. There's nothing like being home. Even if it’s just for a few hours. I jump out of the car, and I see that Emma is standing there waiting for me.
"Hey, chica, how's it going? Have you been waiting for me?" I ask her.
She offers me an impish grin and nods. Her familiar brown eyes are welcoming, and she steps forward and gives me a hug.
"I was nervous for you. You sounded overwhelmed." She pauses, and her eyes gaze up and down as if to ascertain if I’m okay. "I was tracking you on the Find My Friends app and saw you were close, plus you said you’d be home in ten minutes.”
"Gotta love a stalker app," I grin at her, and she laughs.
"You sounded like you thought you'd made a mistake taking this job. How are you feeling now?"
"How do you know me so well?" I let out a strangled noise and bury my face in my hands. Why am I so melodramatic?
"Because I'm your best friend." She smiles. "Is it absolutely overwhelming?" She grabs my arm, and I look up at her. Her expression is concerned, and I shake my head quickly. I don’t want her to worry about me.
"It is, in all the best and worst ways," I say, not really knowing how to explain it. “I think I was just so overwhelmed meeting so many new people, you know? They were all nice; it was just different.”
"So, what exactly are you doing back here, already?"
"I came to pick up some more clothes."
"But we went through all your clothes yesterday, and you made sure that you packed.” She gives me a look. “Is there another reason you’re here?”
"I just needed to get some nicer clothes and more things...like makeup and stuff." I stare at her and try not to blush. She looks back at me and nods with a knowing look.
“So that Hunter guy works there, huh?”
“I guess.” I grab my keys and open the door to my apartment. "Man, I love it here," I say, looking around. "I love my couch, and I love my table, and I love my chairs, and I love my TV, and I love living close to you, and—”
“You're not going anywhere, Gina. Is this about the job or Hunter?”
“How can it be about Hunter? He doesn’t even know I work there. I just don't know if I'm cut out for this, Emma. I—"
"Why are you so nervous?"
"I don't know. I guess I just have a history of anxiety and stress, and I always react poorly. I either make it something to laugh about and get myself into some sort of crazy, quirky situation, or I run away, and I don't want to deal with it."
"And this is you running away?" she asks softly. “Are you going to go back?” I stare at her because the fact of the matter is, I don't know if I want to go back. I feel like I'm in over my head, and I hate this feeling.
"Is there something wrong with me? Why is it that whenever I need to do something or face something big, I always run or take the easy way out?"
"I think the simple fact of the matter is you took this job, and it's not an easy task.
That's brave in itself. Of course, there are going to be moments where you doubt yourself and what you're doing. You're human.” She offers me a warm smile and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “You got this. I promise, I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I'm not going to lie, but there's just something about the family. They're different," I whisper.
"Are they mean?" She frowns. "Because if you think they're going to do something to you, I'm not letting you go back."
"No, it's nothing like that. They're just so quirky, and there's this weird undercurrent with the writing group.
Just an odd vibe. Preston's really nice, but I have no clue how he ran a billion-dollar company.
His wife just seems really caught up in her writing group, which is full of a bunch of people you would never expect to see together.
And Amethyst… well, she's funny, but her poetry is not—" I pause.
"I'm not going to say anything else about her poetry. I don't want to be mean."
"You already told me it was crap, girl."
"I know, and I regret it. That's such a horrible thing to say."
"Maybe one day I can come and listen to it." She grins.
"Yeah, maybe. And then, of course, there’s...you-know-who.”
“He who shall not be named," she says, and I nod slowly.
"It's weird because I didn't even know this man existed two weeks ago, and now, I can't get him out of my life."
"Do you think you're going to have that much contact with him? How much time does he spend in the house? Isn't he mainly in the garden?"
"I have no clue. I'm not sure if he has a room in the house or what. I just saw him in the garden today. It's one of those residences that has lots of tall open windows.”
"You really have a thing for this guy?"
"I wouldn't say I have a thing for him. I mean, our history… It's just—"
"What?"
"It's just that maybe he's kind of cute. And maybe he has blue eyes that I kind of fall into every time I see him. And maybe now that I've seen him without his shirt on, I can't get those biceps and pecs out of my mind."
"You totally want him."
"I wouldn't say I want him. I just think I’m acting thirsty."
"Girl, trust me, we've both been in a drought, and when you're in a drought, any sort of water is going to quench your thirst."
"I know, but what if he's not water? What if he's, like, tequila? You know what tequila does to me."
"It makes you drunk and fun."
"Yeah, initially it makes me drunk and fun, but then I feel sick, and I want to throw up."
"Are you saying that he makes you want to throw up?"
"No, I'm saying that if I partake in him, that is likely the outcome."
"I think you're in your head right now."
"I know, but you know how I am."
"I know. You're the typical middle child."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that you overthink everything because you're trying so desperately hard to be noticed without being seen for the wrong reasons. You want to be acknowledged, but you don't want to get in trouble. You don't want to get called out."
"Are you taking psychology classes?"
"Nah.” She laughs. “I just read a lot. I’m a typical youngest child and only daughter.” My phone rings, and I groan loudly when I realize that it’s Holly.
“I don’t want to answer it.”
“You should. Maybe it’s something good.” I give her a look, and she bursts out laughing. “Okay, it’s highly unlikely that it’s anything good. But you never know.”
“Yeah, I don’t. Maybe she’s going to offer me, like, ten billion dollars." Emma snorts, and I answer the phone. "Hi, this is Gina."
"Gina, it's Holly Unger, your editor in chief."
"I know who you are, Holly. How can I help you?"
"I am calling to see if you've got the story yet."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm calling to see if you've got us a story yet."
"Holly, I literally started today. I have barely met the Waverlys. No, I don't have a story yet." There's silence on the other side of the line, and my heart drops slightly. A couple of minutes go by, and she still says nothing. I clear my throat. "Are you still there?"
"I'm here. I was hoping to hear good news."
"I guess the good news is that I even got the job in the first place. Look, Holly, I am trying my best. I can't get blood out of a stone."
"Well, maybe you're not squeezing hard enough." She’s curt, and I’m annoyed.
"Maybe I don't even have the stone." She lets out a deep sigh, and I freeze.
Holly never sighs.
"Look, I know you just got there." She lowers her voice. "Believe it or not, I am not trying to pressure you, but this is make-or-break for the newspaper."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we have some deep issues. Circulation is down 40 percent.
Unless we start selling more papers and acquiring at least 50 new advertisers, the paper is going to change hands.
There's talk that the Bonds are going to sell partial ownership of the newspaper, and if that happens, and we still have dwindling circulation numbers, I cannot guarantee that we will have a print newspaper, period. "
"What? I didn't know that."
"Why would you?”
“I mean, Emma is my best friend, and her family kind of owns the paper."
"Does her family talk about every business decision with her?" Holly says coldly. “She’s not exactly on the executive rung.” I'm about to say something to her, but I don't. I don’t want Emma to know how mean Holly is being.
"Listen to me, Gina. This story could make or break the job that we both love." I want to call her out because I don't really think she loves it, but I decide not to.
"I mean, I don't even have a story yet. I don't know what you want from me."
"Listen to me, Gina. The Waverlys are royalty in Whisper Cove, but more than that, they are royalty in America.
They are one of the richest families in the country.
People care about them. People want their stories.
They are elusive, and that makes a story about them even more valuable.
If you can break a story before any other publication, that will give us credibility.
That will ensure that we live to see another day. "
"And if I don't get the story?"
"Well, then, I guess you can kiss your paycheck goodbye. Just like me.”
She hangs up the phone, and I just stand there, staring at Emma.
"Holy shit. We're in trouble."
"What is it?" she says. "Also, do you want any water?" She heads to the sink and grabs a glass.
"Yeah, I'm a little parched. Thank you." I watch as she turns on the faucet and fills some glasses. "Did you know that your brothers were thinking about selling the newspaper?"
She turns to me and shakes her head. "What are you talking about? They would never sell the newspaper."
"I mean, maybe not all of it, but would they sell part of it?"
She looks at me for a couple of seconds. "I mean, they would sell a stake. Maybe. They don't fill me in on all their business plans and ideas because I'm just a girl, and I don't understand." She rolls her eyes. "They're freaking annoying."
"Emma, we might be in serious trouble here. Holly sounded really nervous. I've never heard her sound anything but confident."
"What exactly did she say?"
"Apparently, if part of the paper is sold and we still have these low circulation numbers, the print side is gone. We're just going to be completely online, and I don't know about you, but I don't want that."
"Yeah, I don't want that either. The Whisper Cove Guardian means something. It means something to the community, and it means something to be a reporter there." She blinks rapidly. "Fudge. So that's why she's been on our asses."
"Yeah.” I nod. “She sounded really scared. If I don’t come up with a story, I feel like not only am I risking my job, I’m risking the paper.” I pause. "Well, the physical paper. The online one will still exist because, as the Jennys always love to tell us, monthly ad revenue is up there."
Emma lets out a deep sigh. "Shit, I need to eat something," she says. "I wish I could call my brothers, but they don't care. They're clinical. They're not going to give me the time of day if I say that I think this is a bad decision." She blinks rapidly. "So do you think you can get a story?"
"I don't know. I don't even know what the story would be. I haven't met any other Waverlys other than Enid and Preston, and I mean, I doubt there's a story there. They're just this happy old couple that has a lot of money, and they're a little eccentric. Who wants to read about that?”
“What about the grandson?”
“Haven’t met him yet.”
“There has to be something else there. You need a story, Gina.”
“I guess I'm going to have to play detective," I say, wrinkling my nose. "I mean, I did like reading Harriet the Spy when I was a kid."
"Yeah, you loved that book. Remember, one year for Halloween, you dressed up as Harriet? Well, three years in a row," she says, grinning.
"Don't remind me," I say, giggling. "I guess I do have to go back, huh?"
"Were you really not going to go back?"
"I mean, no, but I am nervous that I don’t have it in me.”
“You got this.”
"I'm glad you have faith in me. I just hope I can pull it off."
"You will, and who knows? Maybe you'll have a hot summer with that gardener, as well."
"The gardener and I are not going to have a hot anything."
"You wouldn't have one hot night with him?"
I run my fingers through my hair and giggle. "I mean, if he keeps his mouth shut, maybe.”
“He doesn't need to keep his mouth shut completely," she says with a straight face, and we both burst out laughing. I grab my bag and head to the bedroom.
"Help me pack some more clothes. And maybe some sexy outfits, because if I do want to entice Hunter the gardener, then I'm going to have to step it up a little bit."
"Yeah, girl, now you're talking."
“Have I lost my mind?"
"Yes, but that happened years ago," she says. "So nothing to worry about now."
"Thank you, Emma. That really makes me feel good."
"You're welcome." She smiles and then lets out a small sigh. "I have to figure out something myself."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"The fate of the newspaper is not in your hands alone, Gina. I am a Bond. This is my family's paper, and yet, I know nothing about what is going on. I should have a say in the company." She grits her teeth. “And maybe I’d like to find summer love, as well.”