Page 3 of His Curvy Happiness
I swallowed my groan and nodded. Mike was a shark. He never let anything go until he found dirt, whether the dirt was relevant or not. I could not let Omar and Natalie be exposed to him.
“Not fluff, Casey. A story,” Gretchen said, her gaze sliding to the door, then back to her computer, dismissing me.
I took the hint and let myself out of her office, closing the door behind me as Gretchen picked up the phone.
I had four days to come up with a story. One about Omar and Natalie that wouldn’t be fluff and wouldn’t make them look bad. And I had zero ideas of what to write.
Two days later, I was still trying to come up with ideas about Natalie and Omar that weren’t bad for them, or the town. Out of options, and with two more days before my meeting with Gretchen, I showed up at the Community Center, hoping to catch Natalie before the kids got out of school and flooded the afterschool program.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked when I buzzed the door for the Community Center.
“I’m Casey White. I?—”
“Oh, Casey. How are you? How’s Mikayla?”
The door buzzed to let me into the building. I heard footsteps approaching and saw Amelia Rucker. “Hi, Amelia. We’re good. Mikayla misses coming here.” My daughter joined the afterschool program as a fifth grader, something she hated, but after I had to get a job, and then two more, to support us, I insisted. Amelia and the rest of the staff made it fun, and Mikayla stopped fighting me after the first few days.
Amelia chuckled. “That’s what we like to hear. But I’m guessing you’re not here to convince us to take her in. What can I do for you?”
“I’m actually looking for Natalie. Is she here?”
“Natalie!” Amelia shouted, turning her head away from me as she bellowed. “Visitor!” Amelia smiled at me. “She has a tendency to hide, and if she thinks she can get away with it, she pretends not to hear me.”
“I don’t do that,” Natalie said, appearing from a door on the far side of the gym with a look that said it was exactly what she planned to do.
“Yes, you do. Be nice and talk to Casey. She always writes nice things about us. You should thank her for that,” Amelia said, giving Natalie a scolding look tempered by a slight grin.
“I do thank her. Every time. How are you, Casey?” Natalie smiled at me.
“Good, mostly. I need your help, though.”
“We don’t really have space for Mikayla to join the program, and a lot of older kids fight when they come. We don’t have anyone her age this year.” Natalie scrunched her face.
“I already asked about that,” Amelia said.
“Oh.” Natalie shook her head, her dark ponytail flicking over her shoulder. “Then what can I do for you?”
“I wanted to write a series of articles about your wedding. A behind-the-scenes kind of thing. Maybe highlight some of the local businesses. Something about the two of you balancing work and the wedding. Something like that.”
“That sounds fun. Sure. Do you want to come to appointments and stuff with us?”
“Um, well, yes, but I also need something more.”
“More?” Natalie looked at Amelia, who shrugged, then back at me.
“My editor thinks a basic story about your wedding isn’t interesting enough. She wants something…”
“She wants dirt,” Amelia provided.
“She… yeah,” I agreed. “I’m sorry.”
“Dirt? On me and Omar? Like what? We’re not dirty people.”
Amelia snorted.
Natalie flashed her a mock glare. “You know what I mean. That came out wrong. Please don’t print that.”
I shook my head. “I’m not here to trash you guys. But if I don’t come up with a good angle on the article, she’s going to give it to someone who will twist things and not care what it looks like.”
