This is the closest I am ever going to get to an exclusive story about one of the who's who on the island. A small bell rang in my brain when Preston mentioned his grandson. I don't know much about the family, but I’m pretty sure I’ve heard theJennys whispering about one of the grandsons possibly getting engaged to Simone Simon, one of the most famous actresses in Hollywood, and if that is correct and he is also staying in the mansion, I could possibly get the scoop of the year. An article on Simone Simon, who is notorious for being private about her personal life, would elevate me to the number one reporter at the paper. Holly would love me. The Jennys would hate me. It would make my career at theWhisper Cove Guardian, and I know that no matter what misgivings I’ve had, I have to take the position. I just hope that Holly will understand why I may not be able to go into the office for the next few months.
I chug down my water and stare out the kitchen window into the familiar backyard. I stare at the rose bushes, the stepping stones that lead to the small pond, the soccer ball that Brody had been kicking earlier, and I think about how happy my childhood had been, even with Tina in it. In some ways, I feel like I am still a child. Still relying on other people. Still acting the fool. I think about Patrick and how crappy our relationship was and what that meant about me that I'd stayed in it. I am ready to grow up. I am ready to fly. And if ghostwriting a love story and doing an undercover exposé on a man I've never met is how I am going to achieve my wings, then that is what I am going to do. I've reached rock bottom in my life; the only possible way for me to go now is up.
There is no way anything could go wrong.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gina
Dear Diary,
I'm not going to lie. I'm still cringing inside, thinking of my time with Patrick. What on earth had I been thinking to even go on a second date with the man? I feel like a bit of a fool. A desperate fool. A desperado, so to speak. Yes, I want to be in a relationship, but I still want to have standards. I'm not proud of myself for giving that scumbag grace and an opportunity to make me his girlfriend. And even more embarrassing is the fact that I'd been kinda excited to get proposed to. Not because I wanted to marry him, because ewwww, but because it meant someone wanted me and saw me as a wife. Turns out, I am an even bigger fool for thinking that. The next relationship I find myself in will be with someone who loves and respects me and makes it very clear that I am his one and only. I'm not interested in any men who introduce me as their friend, or just by my name. No matter how good-looking. That is my vow to myself. Oh, and to Emma, who's still complaining about having to hide in the trash.
Always and forever,
Gina “I will never be in a situationship again” Spellman
"Gina, you have my 100 percent support." Holly's voice is almost pleasant, and I'm still shocked at how excited she is about my new position at the Waverly mansion. Though I shouldn't be. The Waverlys are the most prominent family on the island, and the most discreet, so very little is known about their inner circle. Even Emma's family doesn't know them that well. "You do whatever you have to do to get that story." There’s something in her tone that makes me think she’s expecting a far bigger story than I anticipate. It’s not like this is going to be the Watergate of Whisper Cove.
"Which story, exactly?" My stomach churns as I drive through the increasingly wider streets towards the Waverly mansion. "If you’re talking about the love story between Mr. Waverly and his wife, then I’m not sure that is going to be possible. I'm going to be their ghostwriter. I can hardly publish the story in the paper first." I hate that my voice sounds timid, but surely, she has to know that that wouldn’t be a good idea.
"No one gives a shit about their story." Holly sounds exasperated, and the phone is quiet for a few moments. "I want all the details on which grandson is marrying Simone Simon." Her voice could cut glass, and I grip the faded black steering wheel of my Jeep Grand Cherokee tightly. “That’s the story you’re really there for.”
“So, I'm undercover?" My heart races at the thought. If I were to ever see Hunter again, I could tell him that I am closer to being in the FBI than he thought. Not that I thought that would impress him. And not that I ever wanted to see him again either. The man had been obnoxious with a capital O. It didn't help that I'd had another dream of him carrying me out of Cristy'sCupcakes and Coffee again. I could still taste the cupcake I'd taken a bite of.
“So, what do you think, Gina?” Holly’s voice is crisp, and I realize I missed what she just said. I need to stop my mind from drifting off so easily. A part of me wonders if I have ADHD.... Maybe I need to get tested.
“Umm, I didn’t even know that was a possibility for me to write a Hollywood-based story.” I almost stutter. The reality of the fact is I’m no detective, and I really don’t think I’m much of a spy. I’m hoping that the Waverlys will end up giving me the information Holly wants, but I’m not going to tell her that.
"You're going to do whatever you have to do so we can break this story. If the rumors are true, this will be the wedding of the year, and as such, if you break the story first, it will be the wedding scoop of the year. Simone Simon is the number one star in the world, Gina. Everyone wants to know her story. And if she's marrying a Waverly, well then, her story just got that much more interesting."
"I suppose so, though if I'm honest, I prefer my scoops to be of the ice cream variety. The strawberry cheesecake kind, if you know what I mean," I joke as I pull up to security outside of the gated Waverly Estate.
Holly doesn't laugh, and I'm annoyed I wasted a good joke on her. I'm also nervous about the task at hand. I somehow need to ghostwrite a book and find out about an exclusive engagement, all while my grandad is playing golf with Preston. I feel like any sort of scoop or exposé would absolutely ruin that budding friendship, but that is the least of my worries right now. "Umm, well, I'm here, outside the mansion, and security is walking toward me, so I have to go now." My voice trails off as I stare at the big, burly guy coming toward me. He looks like he's a former Navy SEAL, and I wonder what he would do to me if he knew that I wasn't here with the best of intentions.
"Okay, check in with me in a few days with an update," Holly says, and I can tell from her tone that she's hopeful I will have broken the story already. "Also, please send me an article on the reopening of Beach Pass Bridge for the next edition."
"Wait, what?"
'You're still being paid by the paper, Gina. You still have to write articles. Once you actually have a lead on the Simone Simon story, you can concentrate on that."
"But I'm still having to work here, and..."
"And you're being compensated for that, as well. Don't take my kindness for weakness, Gina." Holly's voice is frosty. "Give me a reason to ride for you." I'm about to respond to her when I realize she's already hung up.
"You're so annoying," I mumble under my breath as I place the phone back into my cupholder and roll down the window of my 2015 Jeep Grand Cherokee for the guard.
"Good morning," I call out as I brandish my best smile and give him a little wave. He's kinda cute in that bulky, muscular, I-don't-smile way. "I'm Gina Spellman, and I'm here to work for the Waverlys."
"ID." He holds his hand out, and I beam at him as I search through my messy handbag for my driver’s license. “ID,” he grunts again, like I didn’t hear him the first time.
"Sorry, I'm just looking for it. I promise I'm over 21." He crosses his arms over his shoulders with an unimpressed look, and it's then that I see the gun in its holster. I press my lips together to stop my bad jokes from flying. I'm batting zero today. Apparently, I'm not a good enough comedian to quit the day job and hit the stage.
"Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to...”
“Aha, it’s here.” I pull it out triumphantly. “It’s normally in my wallet, but I went to buy wine yesterday for me and my best friend, Emma, and I was carded. I must have accidentallydumped it back into my handbag, which is a hot-ass mess, instead of putting it back into my wallet. But lesson learned. I will not do that again." I take a deep breath. "What was your name again, kind sir?"
"Graham." He looks down at the ID and then back at me. I offer him my widest smile and run my fingers through my hair as he stares at me with a cold expression. Graham is not buying what I’m selling whatsoever.
