Chapter 3
Casey
I hadn’t been so nervous for a meeting since I was fresh out of school and trying to get a job as a full-time reporter.
I changed three times before I groaned and went with what I had on.
Gretchen already knew me. Impressing her wasn’t possible, and it wasn’t going to change anything.
Either she liked the pitch or she didn’t.
I was early for our meeting, choosing to forgo coffee before the meeting since it usually left me jittery and half the time I spilled it. I was going to nail my proposal, and it would all be fine. Totally fine.
“Casey!” Gretchen shouted as she opened the door.
I was sitting next to it and jumped. “Here.”
“Oh. I didn’t see you.” Gretchen left the door open for me to follow her inside. “Close the door.”
I was already doing so, but nodded. The first rule was don’t piss off your boss.
“What do you have for me?”
“Okay, well, I was thinking we can run with what you said about Natalie being the woman in the picture with Mayor Knight. It was never public knowledge that it was her. The man who took the picture was working for the former mayor and trying to get rid of Mayor Knight so he could run for office again.”
“And you already exposed him, and he ran away and hid. Why is it worth bringing all this up again?”
“I spoke to Natalie, and—”
“You what? You told her we are doing a story?”
I shifted in my seat. “Well, yes. If I was going to get access to her for the article and follow her around as it got closer to the wedding, I figured it only made sense she was aware of it.”
Gretchen leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily. She twisted her neck until it cracked, then twisted it the other way.
Not intimidating at all.
“I guess if you are going to publish something, yes, you will need her approval. What did she say?”
“She admitted it was her in the photo.”
“And?” Gretchen’s perfectly sculpted brows rose.
“And… um, she said it wasn’t public, but she would be willing to share the story.”
Gretchen was quiet for a long minute. She steepled her fingers in front of her face, then rested her chin on them. “We still need more. Is this just one article? Once we expose the truth, no one will care anymore. What else are you going to talk about?”
“Um, well, she said people keep asking if she’s worried about the woman in the photo. We could go with the angle of Mayor Knight being married before and a man in power settling down with someone after a scandal that pushed them together.”
Gretchen’s brows popped high again. “Pushed them together?”
“Natalie said he was protecting her. He went after the photographer to try to get the picture, but the man wouldn’t delete it. Omar… Mayor Knight was trying to keep Natalie safe and make sure the summer camp didn’t suffer because of that picture.”
“Well. That is interesting.” Gretchen’s smirk was not friendly.
“I think you might have a story after all. I’ll approve it.
Start working with her ASAP. Find out what you need.
Go to all her appointments with her, and get on his calendar.
I want you to get both of their sides. And see if you can find out anything about the ex-wife, the family who donated the land, and anyone else in their lives.
Sort of a public interest angle. You can layer all of this into what they’re doing to get ready for the wedding. ”
I nodded, unsure I liked the way she was presenting it all. “But positive, right? Because they’re good people.”
“Yes, positive. I’m not going to be accused of throwing the mayor everyone loves under the bus.”
“Okay.”
“When is the wedding?”
“Four weeks.”
“Perfect. I want your first article on my desk Monday to run in Tuesday’s edition. If you can make it compelling enough, we can make this a regular column leading up to the wedding.”
“That would be great. Thank you, Gretchen.” A regular column? That would be more than just a good piece. It would mean getting into the paper every week. It would mean knowing I had income coming in.
Gretchen turned to her computer, ignoring me.
I stood to leave, grabbing my bag and closing the door behind me as I let myself out of her office.
I fought my smile, not wanting the others to see that I had gotten a good assignment.
Not everyone who worked in newspapers was ruthless, but there were more than a few who were happy to swoop in and steal your story.
Especially if they had a stronger connection to the editor and a regular seat at the table.
I headed for the door, needing to get to my second job so I could get home on time when Mikayla was off the bus.
I knew better than to change in the paper parking lot, but I couldn’t sit in the driveway of the house I was scheduled to clean either.
I drove a few minutes away, then changed quickly.
I tugged jeans under my skirt and unbuttoned my blouse.
In my fitted tank and jeans, I dug for my tee.
My hand grabbed the cotton and pulled it over my head.
Cleaning houses gave me a peacefulness that my other jobs didn’t.
The work was routine and easy. I didn’t get grossed out by things that other people did, and the money was decent.
The company was local, owned by two cousins who loved being able to help people make their homes clean and beautiful.
They hired me without a lot of fuss, and I could take on whatever jobs worked within my schedule.
Even better, I never worked nights or weekends and was paid by the job, not the hour.
I rang the doorbell of the house and smiled when Mrs. Gentry opened the door. “How are you today?”
“Hello, Casey. We are doing our best. How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you. Regular cleaning today, right?”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to keep up with everything, but you know I’m not very good at it.”
I patted her hand and shook my head. “You are a treasure, Mrs. Gentry. Please don’t worry yourself. That’s why I’m here.”
She tutted and fluffed her bob. Mr. Gentry insisted on hiring someone to clean the house when Mrs. Gentry fell off a stepladder.
In the year since, I’d been the one to clean their house every other week.
They were in their eighties, and Mrs. Gentry always had a spotless home, but it was good for them to have someone who handled the high and low things.
I cleaned the entire house, but she always insisted she could handle the basics. I still did it.
I carried my mop and vacuum inside with the bucket of cleaning cloths I used. My bosses were adamant about using non-toxic products and as few chemicals as possible.
Mrs. Gentry went to the living room, where Mr. Gentry was in his chair, reclining and watching TV. “Casey is here.”
“Hello, Casey!” Mr. Gentry called, waving to me from his seat.
“Hi, Mr. Gentry. How are you today?”
His face pinched. “Feeling a little slower this week. We had a lot going on last week, didn’t we, Love?”
I was enamored with the way he called his wife Love. More than sixty years of marriage and he still talked to her as if she was the most precious thing in his world. “What did you have going on?”
“The kids are all doing something these days,” Mrs. Gentry said. “Between sports and events and even just the activities, it gets busy.”
“And you’re not the kind of grandparents, or great-grandparents, to not be around and involved,” I said with a smile.
They’d shared with me that their three kids had all stayed in MacKellar Cove and gotten married and had kids who also stayed in town.
Of the five grandkids, four of them were married with kids, and the fifth was finishing medical school and looking to come back to the area within the next year.
Mrs. Gentry laughed. “We want to soak it all in as long as we can. My fall was a reminder that I’m not invincible.”
“None of us are. And being healthy means you can do all the things you enjoy. Even if it exhausts you.”
“Oh, I can do that,” Mrs. Gentry said, moving toward me as I grabbed plates in the sink to load into the dishwasher.
I waved her off. “I know you can. And you do when I’m not here. But when I am, it’s part of what I do.”
She smiled, her dark-brown cheeks lifting with her grin. “You are too good to us.”
“I am happy to do whatever I can. And you know you can call me if you need anything else. I know you have a lot of family around, too, but I’m not far from here.”
Mrs. Gentry nodded. “Thank you, dear.”
“You are very welcome.” I loved cleaning their house. They told me stories about their lives and what the town was like over the years. Mrs. Gentry always tried to tell me she could do something I was paid to do, and I gently reminded her it was part of my job.
If I were ever going to miss being married, it would be when I was spending time with them.
Most of the time, I didn’t think twice about not having a partner.
Kyle was mostly only good for one thing, and in the end, even that wasn’t always that good.
An accidental pregnancy after a few months of dating tied us together for far longer than either of us wanted.
He stayed with me, though. He was never a great husband, but I wasn’t a great wife either. I resented him for getting me pregnant, for taking away my dreams. He felt the same. We tried, for years we tried, but divorce was inevitable.
Kyle was the one who finally said it. He wasn’t happy and hadn’t been for a long time. He needed a change and decided that change was in another woman’s bed. Not while we were married, but he didn’t waste any time finding someone else’s sheets to fall into.
It left me more than a little jaded. I wasn’t looking for another husband. But there were times I missed the physical connection of sex. It was the only time Kyle and I were happy. The only time I felt like we were okay.
And that was why I still hadn’t reached out to DirtyLife again. He wanted a family. A relationship. A connection.