Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Gina
I lie there in the comfy bed, curled up in a ball, and all I can think about is Hunter’s twinkling blue eyes and the way my body had felt when he'd been standing next to me.
I can't believe that I'm in the same house as him.
I can't believe that for the next couple of weeks or months, he's going to be in my daily presence.
I'm not even sure where his bedroom is. What if it's next to mine?
What if it's only two doors away, and we spend the summer sneaking back and forth?
Would he accidentally walk into my room?
Will I accidentally walk into his? Naked.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Gina. You're not here for a summer fling,” I mumble to myself. I’m hot and bothered and know I need to stop thinking about him.
I roll out of the bed, knowing that it is futile to think I will be able to fall asleep right away.
I head over to the window, look outside at the vast grounds of the Waverly Estate, and admire how perfectly manicured everything is.
In the far distance, I see the ocean waves as they crash into the rocks, illuminated by the full moon shining brightly in the sky.
It's almost ethereal, looking down at the water.
I'm about to call Emma and see if she's up when my phone starts ringing.
I grab it with a small smile, thinking that it's her, but my heart drops when I see that it's Patrick.
“Why are you calling me?” I mutter under my breath, not wanting to talk to him. I debate whether or not to answer the phone, but my nosiness gets the better of me. I need to know why he’s calling me.
“Hello?” I say sharply into the phone. I don’t want him thinking for a second that I have any real interest in talking to him.
“Gina.” His voice is warm and friendly. Like he wasn’t just porking another girl in an alleyway.
“This is she. How can I help you?”
“It’s me, Patrick.” He sounds happy. Is he a psychopath?
“I know. What do you want?”
“I thought you'd be happy to hear from me.”
“Are you crazy? You were cheating on me in an alleyway, and you dumped me.” I am loud and want to cuss him out. “I never wanted to hear from you again.”
“Calm down, jeez.” He sounds taken aback. “Was it really cheating, though?” he says in a low, throaty voice, and I’m almost positive I hear a chuckle. “We weren’t technically together.”
“What do you mean, we weren’t technically together?” This man is lucky he’s not next to me because his life would have been over.
“You and I never had sex, so it wasn’t like we had a real relationship. I have needs.” He’s nonchalant. “You weren’t meeting them. I figured once we finally banged, we’d see if we wanted to take the next step.”
“Next step?”
“Like if we would move on from just friends.”
“I don’t know if you think that I’m stupid or that I’m going to forgive you, but I’m not.” I’m about to hang up. I’m not even mad at him. I’m angrier at myself. How did I give this man the time of day? I am never going down this road with another loser man again.
“Gina, we had something special. Are you really going to throw it away?”
“What do you want?” I cut him off. This man is not going to gaslight me!
I let out a deep sigh and rub my forehead.
It’s crazy to me that I feel absolutely nothing but distaste for him.
To think that there had been a time when I’d hoped that our relationship would go to the next step makes me want to throw up.
Suddenly, I’m grateful that I never slept with him.
“So, hey, you’re friends with Emma, right?”
“Yes. You know that. You’ve met her.”
“And she’s one of the Bonds.”
“Yeah. Can you get to the point?” I snap. “I’m about to hang up.”
“I didn’t realize that she was related to Maverick Bond. I kind of heard about him tonight from some friends.”
“Patrick, what is this about?”
“I was wondering if you may be able to introduce me to her brothers. As I—”
“Patrick, I’m not introducing you to anyone, and certainly not my best friend’s brother. Why do you want to meet Maverick?”
“I think we can do business together.”
“What sort of business, Patrick? I still don’t really understand what line of business you’re in.”
“Gina, you sound so hostile. Are we not friends? Can we not get over this little tiff?”
It’s at that point that I burst out laughing. This man is a joke. I will be blocking him on my phone. I never want to hear from him again. “Patrick, don’t call me again. We’re not friends.”
“Wait, Gina, I’m sorry. Let me—” I hang up as he’s talking and power my phone off.
I’m seething with anger. I cannot believe that he had the gall to call me and ask for a favor after everything he's done. He’s a jackass.
I can’t believe that I hadn’t seen it as clearly as I do now.
He’s a user. He was probably never even interested in me and only wanted to date me for the access that I could give him to the who’s who of Whisper Cove.
But I see him for who he is now, and I am moving on in my life.
As far as I’m concerned, he is the garbage bag in the trash can, never to be thought of again.
In fact, he’s the sticky gunk at the bottom of the barrel that leaves a stench so disgusting that you have to throw the barrel away.
I get into bed and turn off the lights. The thought hits me as I lie there for a couple of seconds, and I realize that maybe I’m not that much better than him.
Didn’t I take this job because it was at the Waverly Estate, and I need the Waverlys to help me keep my job?
I need the Waverlys to give up information that would help me write an article that the world would want to read. Am I just as much of a user?
“I’m no better than him,” I say as I close my eyes, and guilt fills me.
But I’m not going to let it take over me.
I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m not going to lie to anyone.
I’m still here to write the Waverlys’ love story, and I’ll do the best job that I can.
I have no ill intentions. I’m not going to harm them.
I want to believe I am better than Patrick.
I think of his smarmy voice and face, and somehow, my mind flickers to Hunter.
I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about him, from thinking about the bag of nuts in his hands, from thinking about the other nuts I’d thought about squeezing.
“Gina,” I say, annoyed at myself. I count to ten, and I’m grateful when I feel myself drifting to sleep. I need to focus on the prize. I’m here for one reason and one reason alone.
“Good morning, Mr. Waverly,” I say to Preston as I walk into his study, with my shoulders back and head held high. I have decided that I’m going to be the best ghostwriter the world has ever seen. That will make up for the eventual exposé article that I hope to publish.
“Good morning. How did you sleep, Gina?” He stands up and ushers me into the room.
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m sorry that I left early yesterday. I just—”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, dear. Do not worry about it at all. Enid will be with us in just a moment, and we can get started.”
“Oh, awesome,” I say, surprised at how nice he’s being. “I can get my notepad and pen so—”
“Notepad and pen? Quaint,” he says, laughing. I watch as he picks up something from his desk and hands it to me. “This is a digital recording device. You can just record the conversation that we have and listen back to it to help you start writing the book.”
“Sure. That sounds like a good idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.” I give him an apologetic stare.
“Don’t worry. I know you’ve never been a ghostwriter before, but I’m sure you’re going to do a great job.”
“Hello there, Gina.” Enid walks into the room with an enthusiastic wave, and I offer her a wide smile. I’m surprised at how excited she is to see me, seeing as the day before, she hadn’t seemed this ecstatic.
“I’m so thrilled for us to start the story and to have another writer in the group. You will come with me to the writing group meeting after we finish our session this morning, won’t you?”
“I guess. I mean, I should be working on this, but—”
“How else will you get inspiration?” she says and takes a seat. “Darling Preston, have I told you how much I love you today? How grateful I am for you?”
“Yesterday, you told me twice, and today you’ve told me once, so I will say yes. Please, have a seat, Gina.”
“Sure.” I take a seat in one of the leather chairs and try to make myself comfortable. Preston sits behind the table, and I pick up the Sony recorder that he’s left in front of me on the desk.
“So, exactly how did you want us to start this?” I ask.
“I thought the book should start with how we met.” Enid leans forward, and I mentally note that she seems to be the boss in the relationship.
“Okay, that sounds like a really good idea and, I guess, a really important part of the story,” I joke, but neither of them laughs or smiles.
I blink for a couple of seconds. “Though I think it would be really interesting to see where you were in your lives before you met, as well.” I pause. “Would you like to start there?”
“No.” Preston shakes his head. “Let’s start with how we met. That’s what Enid wants.”
“Sounds like a plan. So, I’m going to start the recorder now, and then maybe you can both speak and tell me exactly how this love story began.
” I stare at the recording device and realize I’m not exactly sure how to use it.
I can feel myself start to panic as I press buttons, but none of them seem to be doing what I want them to.
“If you could just give me a second, while I figure this out.”
“Of course,” Enid says, and she leans toward me. “There are many things in life that I ponder as I wander down the streets of—”