“Okay, so you’re single. And you're not engaged.”
“Not engaged.
“You’re not married. Even if it’s not for real reasons.”
“I’m not married, and I don’t know why I would be married for fake reasons.”
“So that wasn’t the celebration the other night.”
“We made love last night, Gina. I would hope that you would know that I was not celebrating an engagement and then sleeping with you.”
“I mean… I did know that in my heart.” She pauses. “And I know you probably don’t want to answer this, but why are you in town? Is it like a business deal?”
“You’re right. I don’t want to answer it. At least not now,” I say. “I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”
“Not really, but I guess.” She runs her fingers through her long, dark hair. She looks so pretty, but she still looks sleepy. “I suppose we will talk on the picnic later. And we can try and do some more investigating.”
“I guess you never knew you’d be a detective and a writer.”
“I didn’t know either.” She makes a face. “But I’ve only known myself for twenty-five years.”
“You were a killer secret agent,” I say, laughing. “I’m sure they’d love to sign you up right now.”
“Very funny,” she says. I can’t resist leaning forward and kissing her before I hear footsteps and pull back quickly. She looks at my lips. “I’ll go on the picnic with you later.”
“I look forward to it.” I step away from her as my grandfather reenters the room. “Have a good meeting,” I say, and hurry out. Something is not adding up. Actually, many things are not adding up.
But I know with Gina’s help, we’ll get to the bottom of it. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll also confide my secret to her. Because I know she’s someone I can trust. And I can feel myself falling for her.
I can feel that whatever’s between us is real. And that’s something I’ve never felt before.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Gina
I’m so excited to go on the picnic. I feel like I'm floating in the clouds as I get ready to spend time with Hunter. I know I shouldn’t be so excited and that I’m likely setting myself up for failure, but I can’t help it.I grab my handbag to rush downstairs and try to tell myself not to come off as being too eager. No man wants a woman who is begging to spend time with him. My phone starts ringing as I close the bedroom door behind me, and I groan when I see Holly’s name on the screen. This is the last thing that I need. I really do not want to talk to Holly, but I know that I can’t ignore her.
“Hi, Holly,” I say, answering the phone, wondering if I can hang up and blame it on a bad connection.
“Gina.”
“Hey, I can’t really talk right now.”
“Listen, I know you don’t do well under pressure, but I am going to have to tell you that we either get a story from you by the end of the week, or you’re fired.”
“Wait, what?” I stop dead in the middle of the hallway. “What are you talking about?” My heart pounds in a way that makes me think I could be having a heart attack. This was not meant to happen.
“I think my words are pretty clear to understand. You get the story on Hunter Waverly that we can run next week, or you’re fired.”
“I’m working on something, but I don’t know that I’m going to have the story by the end of the week.”
“Then you’re going to have to figure something out.” She hangs up, and I just stand there. I can feel myself fluctuating between hot and cold, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I don’t know what I’m going to do. The fact of the matter is, I don’t want to get Hunter’s secret—at least not to have it printed. But then what sort of investigative reporter am I if I do all this work and then don’t write the story? I’m a loser. I don’t deserve to be a journalist.
Are you really going to let one night of sex ruin your entire career, Gina?I ask myself as I walk down the stairs. I’m no longer excited for the picnic or to spend time with Hunter because it feels tainted.
All I want to do is run away. I want to get in my car, drive home to my grandparents' house, eat lasagna, and forget that I ever met him. Forget that I ever took on this story. Maybe I’ll be able to convince someone to lend me money, and I could just travel around the world and try and find myself and who I am as a person—what I stand for, what I am good at. Maybe I’d stop chasing things that aren’t right for me.
I chased Patrick, and he was horrible.
