"Oh, that's sweet."
"But they need a ghostwriter to help."
"Why are you telling me this?" I frown. "I'm a journalist, not a ghostwriter."
"Well, you said your editor wanted an article about the rich and famous of the island, and Preston Waverly is the richest man on the island," Grandma says matter-of-factly. "Seems like you'd be killing two birds with one stone."
"What two birds?"
"Keeping your job and making extra money. You were just complaining about not making enough to buy new clothes or take vacations." She leans forward and pats my hand. "Plus, this will be a way to challenge yourself and your creativity. You don't seem that happy at the paper, and maybe this will expand your mind and the ideas that are circulating."
"I mean, it's not that I'm lacking creativity. It's more like my editor doesn't want to publish any of my ideas because they don't seem to fit with what she thinks will sell a newspaper."
"Why don't you speak to Preston and see what he has to say?" Grandpa pulls out his phone, and before I know what's happening, he's calling someone. I sit there just staring at him, my brain telling me to stop him, but my heart thinks that maybe it will lead to something. Maybe there will be a bigger story. Something that can get me recognized for something positive.
"Hi, Preston, it's Fred, Fred Spellman. I hope I'm not disturbing you. Oh, good, good." He pauses and laughs. "Yes, that bogey on the eighth hole was a good one. We should play at the country club next week." My grandpa sounds elated, and I can see he's already daydreaming about being on the green again. "Preston, I'm calling about the ghostwriter job. I have a granddaughter, Gina, and she's a very talented writer, and I think that she would be a great ghostwriter for you and Enid." He looks over at me adoringly, and my heart bursts with pride and love. My grandparents really do think the best of me. "Yes, she's right here. Let me hand you the phone." He passes the phone over to me. "Gina, that's Preston Waverly on the line," he explains, as if I don't already know.
"Thanks, Grandad." I take the phone from him and take a deep breath. "Good evening, Mr. Waverly. This is Gina Spellman. How are you tonight?"
"I'm doing quite well, dear." His voice is gravelly and deep, and it takes me aback slightly. “So, your grandfather tells me you're a writer. Had anything published?"
"Actually, I have.... I currently write for..." I stop as I'm not sure I should mention my job at the paper. "I currently write many different things and have been published."
"Oh, great, Enid will love that." He sounds pleased. "Well, the job will last anywhere from three to six months. Of course, you will stay at the mansion. We will provide you with your own suite of rooms."
"Oh, that's not needed. I have my own apartment."
"We will want you to stay on-site. We never know when inspiration will hit us, and we will want to talk. Don't worry, the rooms are very nice."
"I'm sure they are." I want to laugh. The man's a billionaire. I'm sure they are much more than just nice. "But, I am paying rent and..."
"We will be paying twenty grand a month." He cuts me off. "Plus, you will have meals catered and full healthcare benefits, including contributions to a retirement account and a travel fund."
"A travel fund?" My jaw drops. I am in shock at how great this position sounds. The benefits are better than current position
"We believe everyone should have the opportunity to explore the world."
"That is mighty generous of you, Mr. Waverly."
"Call me Preston."
"Oh, okay. Well, I'd love to come in for an interview when it suits you, Preston."
"This was the interview, dear. Any granddaughter of Fred Spellman is fine by me. He's a fine golfer, your grandad."
"Yes, he is." My heart is racing now. How could I have gotten the job? I haven't even officially applied. And I still have a job, and I had to speak it over with Emma. She always has good advice.
"My grandson may also be around." He clears his throat and lowers his voice. "I will have to tell him what you're doing there, but the project is a surprise for the rest of the family. When could you start? We really do want to get the project started as soon as possible."
"Oh, wow, that's cool." I clear my throat. "Would it be possible for me to get back with you?"
"Your room will be overlooking the ocean," he continued smoothly. "You'll have a balcony. We have over eighty acres of property. It's very tranquil. And I promise you won't be booked up every day."
"I just, umm, I just need to check one thing. I'll let you know tomorrow, if that's okay, Preston." It feels weird saying his name, but if that's what he wants me to call him, then I'm not going to tell him no.
"Fine, take down my number. I'll expect to hear from you by noon tomorrow. I hope that you'll be able to take the position."
"Thank you, I hope so, as well." I stare at my grandparents’ expectant faces and smile. "Have a good evening, Preston," I say, and then he hangs up. I hand the phone back to my grandad, feeling slightly dazed and confused. "He offered me the job," I say, almost breathlessly. "But he wants me to stay at the Waverly mansion." I stand up and head to the sink to grab some water. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do," I say as I grab a glass, but that's not exactly true.
