Page 8 of Own the Eights
“Georgie?” someone said, but she didn’t quite have control of all her faculties yet.
Georgie blinked, and the figure blurred, speeding past the bookshop.
“Who was that?” she asked, staring out at the street.
“I think he works at that Deacon CrossFit that opened a few blocks from here. There’s a bunch of them around the city. But, Georgie, you better check your phone,” Becca instructed.
Georgie frowned, still feeling the aftershocks. “My what?”
An amused glint sparked in Mr. Gilbert’s eyes. “Your phone. That thing all you kids can’t stop looking at.”
She shook her head. This was exactly what she warned women about, the guise of perfection. And she wasn’t about to get carried away. Oh no! There was an excellent chance this guy was a perfect ten on the douchebag scale and not the lasting eight she preached about finding.
“What about my phone?”
Ping.
Georgie gasped. “It’s beeping.”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” Mr. Gilbert said.
She snatched her phone from the counter. “This could be it!”
“Open it! Open it!” Becca cheered.
Georgie tapped the email icon, and her eyes went wide. “It’s from them!”
“What does it say?” Becca asked, craning her head to try to get a look at the screen.
Georgie opened the email and scanned the message.
“Don’t leave us in suspense,” Mr. Gilbert prodded.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute.
“They want me to come in…today.” She checked her watch. “In less than two hours to meet my teammates.”
Becca scratched her head. “Why would you have teammates?”
Good question. But there had to be a reasonable answer.
Georgie gasped. “Possibly an editor or a producer. I think that once you get hired on with CityBeat, there’s got to be a team you work with.”
Becca nodded. “That makes sense. OMG, Georgie! You’ve got a team! What else does it say?”
She glanced back at the screen. “It says I’ll get brought up to speed on the next steps in the meeting today.”
“Next steps?” Becca mused, tapping the counter. “That’s probably just ironing out your topics and timeline stuff, don’t you think?”
Georgie nodded. “It has to be something like that.”
But a pang of doubt rippled through her chest. She couldn’t let herself get overly excited quite yet.
Mr. Gilbert patted her cheek. “You know, your dad would have been proud of you. Your grandparents, too. Are you going to tell your mom?”
That pang of doubt in her chest went from a ripple to a full swell at the mention of her mother. “Books and blogs aren’t really her thing. I don’t think she’d be very excited. I’m not quite the daughter she’d always wanted.”
He gave her a sympathetic grin. “Just remember, Georgie, some of us have different ways of showing we care.”
