“I mean...” Emma puts her phone down on the desk and gives me her best,I love you, and I’m not judging you, but you’re an idiotlook. “There are other ways to take what he was saying, Gina. If I’m honest, I don’t think Patrick is or was looking for a crunchy granola girl. He was trying to explain his line of work, or rather his source of income.”
“But we don’t know what his line of work is.” I jump up and rub my palms across my jeans. I notice a new hole in the fabric and hold my breath. This was the third pair of these jeans that had come apart in less than two months. I didn’t know if I was wearing them too much or if they were just so cheap that they weren’t made to last. I had a feeling it was a mix of the two, and I vowed to buy higher-quality jeans the next time I went shopping.
“I mean, we know it’s likely not legit. But if you love him, I suppose you can figure something out.” Her voice trails off as I glance at her with anare you crazylook. “You can force him to stop his life of crime.”
“I don’t love him. We’ve been dating for two months, and I’ve seen him three times. We haven’t even had sex yet, but I told you I think he’s waiting for marriage.” I am still not sure how I feel about that. When I was younger, being with a man who was waiting to sleep with me until we got married felt so romantic, and I would have been over the moon. Now I’m almost thirty (infive years, but still) and have been with a few men, but the idea seems nerve-wracking.
“He’s super religious?” Emma asks as we head out of the office and into the bustling room that houses dozens of cubicles for the writers and graphic designers who work for the paper. We head to our cubicles in the corner, and I grab my bag of salt and vinegar chips as we take our seats.
“Not that I know of. He never mentions church, doesn’t wear a cross or anything, but Lindsey down at Pearl’s Fine Jewels called my grandma and told her he made an appointment this afternoon, so Grandma and I think he may get me a ring.” I stuff the potato chips into my mouth quickly because I’m not sure how I feel about the prospect of getting engaged to Patrick Adams. On the one hand, he’s cute, really cute. He’s tall and muscular, with bulging biceps. He’s full of tattoos, with dark eyes and dark hair. He looks like he could have been in the cast ofGoodfellas, only he’s much better looking than all the actors in the movie. He moved to Whisper Cove from Staten Island about a year ago, and he seems to do really well for himself. However, we’ve never had sex, and while that’s not the end-all be-all of a relationship, it would be nice to know if we have chemistry. He’s also not the best kisser in the world, and we’ve never been on any real, meaningful dates. I know most people would wonder why I even think of him as my boyfriend, but that’s because he calls me almost every night. He says he wants to fall asleep to my voice while I tell him all about Whisper Cove and the people who live here. It’s kinda romantic. Well, it would be if we were fifteen and were forbidden from seeing each other. But at the ripe old age of twenty-five, going on to spinsterhood (according to my bitchy little sister, Tina), I’m ready for more.
“A ring.” Emma practically chokes on the coconut water she’s drinking. “What do you mean by aring?”
“You know what I mean: diamonds and gold.” I giggle and offer her some chips, which she rejects because Emma doesn’t believe in snacking. Not just in the day, but ever. Which is totally weird to me, but whatever. She’s still my best friend, and she still buys snacks for whenever I come over to hang out. Granted, I don’t particularly like the snacks she buys—freeze-dried green peas aren’t exactly calling my name when there are Cheetos and Oreos around. And don’t get me started on dates. No, they are not as good as milk chocolate and cotton candy grapes. But I try not to be too ungrateful…. I just remember to bring my own snacks when I go over.
“But why is he going to a jewelry store to get you a ring?”
“Emma, you’re the smartest woman I know, so why do you think?”
“You’d say yes?” She sits back and crosses her legs. I admire her knee-high dark-gray suede boots and mentally remind myself to look for an affordable pair of suede Oxford boots later that evening. “Because why are we talking about you asking him to define the status of your relationship if you think he’s about to propose? Gina Gloria Spellman, what on earth is going on here?”
“I don’t know, but I have a plan to find out, and I need your help.” I don’t tell her that I’m worried he’s going to rob the jewelry store or that I’m nervous he’s casing the joint for a later burglary. If I say the words out loud, it will make them true, and I’m not sure how I could continue dating him then. Because then I would be confirming my suspicions that he was no good.
“My help?” She groans and shifts her chair closer to mine. “What sort of help do you need?” She whispers like we’re CIA operatives planning some covert mission as opposed to me trying to figure out what’s going on in my frankly quite ludicrous love life.
“Do you mind if I explain it to you as we walk into town? I want to grab a coffee at Cristy’s, and well, we’ve got abouttwenty-five minutes to get Operation PA ready and in motion.” I jump up, grab my handbag, quickly reapply some lip gloss, and stare down at my friend, who’s looking at me with huge, distrustful eyes. “It’s not that bad, trust me.”
“Fine, but I'd better not regret this.” Emma slowly stands up, and we head out of the office. “You better not get me into trouble, Gina.”
“Don’t worry.” I give her my best Sunday School smile. “There’s nothing illegal about what we’re going to do. Nothing illegal at all.” If anything, I think to myself, we could be preventing something illegal from happening, but I’m not going to tell her that.
CHAPTER TWO
Gina
“Gina, I am going to kill you,” Emma grumbles into the phone as I wait at the back of a very long line at Cristy’s Cupcakes and Coffees, the best bakery in town. “Hiding behind a garbage dumpster is not a good look for me, and it absolutely stinks. I’m almost positive I stepped into dog poop in my brand-new suede boots, as well.”
“I’m sorry, but remember, you’re doing it for the people.” I am actively speaking to Emma, but my mind is on the glorious sight ahead of me. The countertops are filled with all sorts of delicious pastries: from gooey chocolate chip cookies to pecan brownies, apple, cherry, and strawberry turnovers, and dozens of cupcakes. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, along with the scent of tasty goods, is enough to make my mouth water. Cristy’s is my favorite place in town, and I normally try to come only once a week because it’s always busy and my waistline doesn’t need to expand any more than it already has in the last year.
“What people?You’rethe people.” She sounds pissed, but when she speaks again, I can’t understand what she’s saying.
“Hold on,” I say quickly, tapping the earbuds that are nestled in my ears. “I’m not sure if my batteries are dying or if my Bluetooth isn’t working, but I’m not hearing you properly.” I quickly grab my phone and scroll to the settings to see if I turned down the volume by mistake while it was in my bag.
“Can you move up, please?” a deep voice sounds behind me, making me jump. I peek over my shoulder and nod as I gaze into the annoyed blue eyes of the handsome man standing behind me. My heart beats when I take in his appearance. Shit, it was the guy who’d bumped into me on my run.
“Sorry, I thought I was at the back of the line,” I say quickly, as I shift forward and offer him an apologetic smile. I wonder if he recognizes me, but he just rolls his eyes in response and looks away. “Just as rude as I remember,” I mutter, immediately irritated by his attitude. I can’t stand it when I smile at someone, and they don’t smile back. It’s like they didn’t read the polite human handbook, which I personally think should be written and taught in schools. If I ever become mayor or president, that will be the first law I enact.
“Just as self-absorbed as I remember,” he says clearly, and I gasp as I glare at him. So, he did recall our encounter. Jerk. I couldn’t believe that I was already seeing him again. And that he was just as obnoxious as I remembered.
“Takes one to know one,” I mutter under my breath.
“What did you say, Gina?” Emma hisses in my ear, but her voice is garbled.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say louder and hear the man behind me grunt. I ignored him. I switch my Bluetooth on and then off. “Can you hear me now?”
