Page 4 of Falling for the Grumpy Stranger

Ava and Layla exchanged looks.

“What?” I asked.

Ava shrugged. “Nothing but that was a rather detailed description of the mysterious, scarred stranger who you apparently had a meet-cute with at Gem’s store.” Layla was nodding along with her assessment.

I laughed. “Apparently, you missed the words ‘embarrassing’ and ‘humiliating’ when I talked about our interaction. Trust me, there was nothing cute about it. And I gave the detailed description because Layla made fun of my first description, and I won’t have my skills as a wordsmith called into question.” I picked up a handful of pistachios, and the few horrifying moments in the shop flashed through my brain. I dropped the nuts back in the bowl. “Subject change, and this one is much more exciting.”

The girls sat forward with interest.

“I have a video interview tomorrow with an online publication called Stories We Love. They publish stories about small towns.”

Both sisters clapped and cheered. “Wine!” Ava reached for the bottle. “Time for a toast.”

“I don’t have the job yet, but I’ve got a good feeling. I’ll finally be able to pitch in more.” I could feel my throat tighten as I looked at both of them. “I’m so lucky to have such amazing sisters. I appreciate all you guys have done to let me continue my writing dream. I think this job will help me achieve that dream. It’ll give me good experience, and it’ll be a nice bonus in my cover letter when I approach publishers. Thanks, guys. I love you so much.”

We were all teary-eyed as we raised our glasses.

“To Ella, the world’s best writer!”

Chapter Four

ELLA

Irealized that the terrible pain in my stomach was a bad case of nerves when I picked up my cup of coffee and couldn’t drink more than one sip. The last job interview I’d had was for a salesclerk job at the local drugstore, and there wasn’t really an interview. The manager said I was the only person to fill out the application without misspelling the wordpharmacy. Not exactly a glowing start to my dull career behind the drugstore counter. The only question I had to answer was could I be at work by seven in the morning.

Ava and Layla went to breakfast at the café so that I’d have the house to myself. I’d brushed my hair so much it had started to float away from my head with static electricity. I checked the lighting in every room and decided to sit at the kitchen table. I turned on the camera and realized that last night’s dishes were still piled on the counter. I got up and lowered them into the sink and sat back down. Nonna’s favorite rooster cookie jar sat on the counter behind me. It gave the whole background scene a homey feel, so I left it.

Andrea May had already sent the link. I clicked it and stared at myself as I waited patiently for the meeting host to arrive.The nerves hadn’t settled yet, but at least my hair seemed to be staying put.

Seconds later, a woman with tinted pink hair and a kind smile appeared on the screen. She had emerald green glasses surrounding equally green eyes. “Good morning, Ella. Is it all right if I call you Ella?”

“Of course.” My hands had been doing something stupid with the end of my sweater, so I placed them on my thighs.

“And please, call me Andie. First, let me say I was impressed with the story sample you sent. Your grandmother, Nonna, right?”

“Yes, that was what we called her.”

“She sounds like a dream. I had two grandmothers. One was already quite old and hard of hearing by the time I was old enough to form memories. I remember her handing me a glass of water in her kitchen, and she had a bunch of blue dishes on a rack next to the stove. She’d made a big pitcher of lemonade, which I eyed greedily, but she told me lemonade was for the grown-ups. She died of a stroke a year later, leaving me with only that one memory of her. The other grandmother was the plastic-on-the-couch and stale butterscotch-candies-in-the-candy-dish type. You and your sisters were so lucky to have Nonna.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Well, enough of those trips down memory lane. Let’s get down to business.” Andie opened a notebook. “We have a Friday afternoon deadline each week. That gives us time to edit the piece and get it ready for Monday publication. You get paid by the piece. Five hundred dollars for a thousand words. We offer a group health insurance plan, which you’ll have to contribute to if you’re interested in joining. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful.”

“Great, then can you start next week?”

I stared back at her, wondering if I’d heard correctly. “Next week?”

“We could really use you on board. Our reader base has grown a lot this year, and we need to keep creating interesting content. I’d love to add your voice and unique take on things to our publication.” I was stunned into silence, but she took it as hesitation. “Of course, you’ll want some time to think it over. I’m sorry if I’m being pushy. It’s just the editing team really loved your sample work.”

“Uh, yes, I mean, no, I don’t need time to think it over. I’d be thrilled to work for Stories We Love. And next week will be fine.”

She clapped once. “I’m so thrilled, Ella.” She patted the notebook on her desk. “I have your first assignment. I’ll give you the basics and then send you a more detailed version after we leave the call.” She moved her finger down the notebook. “We’d like a five-to-six-episode series about Grimstone Manor.” She looked up and noticed my stunned expression. “Have you heard of it?”

“Grimstone Manor? Yes, uh, it was the source of a few good dares and scares during my childhood. My friends and I used to ride our bicycles up to the property and then ride down the hill screaming in terror.”

“There are rumors that the place is cursed. Previous owners have met some rather unfortunate ends, starting with Margaret Grimstone, the woman who had it built. Do you know anything about its history?”

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