Call Me Vi | ONC 2024

Chapter 9 | EDITED

"Oh." I nodded, feeling a twang in my heart. Jealousy? Couldn't be. It was for a photoshoot. Just because she was posing in lingerie with a half-naked, six-pack-to-make-Budweiser-jealous Ken doll didn't mean anything. She was a professional. I had no reason to be jealous.

I stood there watching as the man I assumed to be Darryl sprayed something that looked like the cooking spray I used on my pans at home on Violetta's legs. Sure, they'd be airbrushed now, but wasn't natural better?

"Hey!" the same voice from before barked somewhere behind me, making me jump. "Visiting time is over. We're on the clock here, and this is a closed set."

"S-sorry," I said, glancing up at Violetta. Her attention was focused on the pose, with her model partner snaking his hands over her exposed skin.

Back to work, I guess.

The hotel room was quieter without Violetta. But she had her job to do, and as much as I hated to admit it, I had mine.

I pulled up my email to re-read the message Spencer sent and then dialed the number for the magazine to connect to his direct line.

"Smokey Tribune, this is Hayden. How may I direct your call?" my best friend answered, his voice strained to sound as cheerful as possible.

I blinked, pulling the phone away from my ear briefly to make sure I dialed the right extension.

"Hello?"

"Hayden?" I said at last.

"Reags!" His tone immediately changed. "How's the vacation?"

"First, why are you answering Spencer's phone?" I frowned. What had changed in only 48 hours? "Second, the vacation has been fine. Definitely well needed. But, um, my text?"

"Oh sweetie, I've been meaning to get back to you." He lowered his voice. "Spencer called an emergent staff meeting, sans you of course. He wants to make some changes to the Tribune."

"And that means you're answering phones now?" Sounds like he already went ahead with the plan. "What about your column?"

"I'm still writing it, but I switch off as social secretary now with our other co-workers," he said. "Although with these hours, I've barely had time to get anything written for my column."

That didn't sound like a good way to run a business. We were a small company; changes like this could put us in the ground.

"Anyway, enough about me. Tell me the juicy deets." I could almost see his eyes brightening through the phone.

"There's not really a lot, but we did sort of sleep...in the same bed last night."

"Scandalous."

I rolled my eyes. "Not really. It's been a bit of a whirlwind today, though. Ever since her publicist found out and then we made pottery, got some lunch, I watched her photoshoot...just an average day."

"What are you going to do about your article? Does Violetta know?" The question I'd been dreading. Now sitting in the air between us, it tasted like a spoiled mango.

I pretzeled my legs on the bed. "Vi doesn't know, but I don't...I don't know if I can let myself write the article." My voice broke as the words left my mouth.

"Oh sweetie," Hayden cooed. "She's got you good, yeah?"

I swiped my hand across my eyes. "I don't understand it, Hayden. I know nothing about her but I want to know everything about her."

"And you don't want to write the article?"

"No. I feel like it would be, well, it would be the hit of the year for the Tribune. But I can't do that to her. That's actually why I called to speak with Spencer."

"Ah, right. Let me patch you through. We'll talk later, 'kay?"

"Thanks, Hayden."

The phone beeped while the call transferred over, then Spencer picked up. "This is Spencer."

"Spence, it's Reagan," I said.

"Aha! Just the girl I wanted to talk to." A pen tapped against his desk. "Where are we with that article? I know you're on vacation, but as you know a journalist's work is never done."

Yeah, I've heard that one before.

"About that, I'm not sure if I'll be able to write it." I winced, waiting for his reply.

"Reagan, do you know why I hired you?"

I gulped. "My winning personality?"

"Your results." He punctuated the last word. "You are the best 'local celeb columnist' we could ask for."

"But Violetta isn't a local celebrity!" I protested. So technically she shouldn't count."

Spencer clucked his tongue. "Then you haven't done your research. Violetta Dawson has a rich history that has put her face on the cover of every magazine and gossip journal across the United States. Except ours. Until now, that is. You should have more than enough to work with, now that you've been spotted on multiple occasions with her."

"M-multiple occasions?" I squeaked. Then another thought hit me, one that turned my stomach to mush as I dreaded his answer. "Did you know she was going to be here when I requested vacation time?"

"We'd heard rumors that she would be in the area."

The mush in my stomach spiraled into a cyclone spinning double time. "So it was a set up? Is that why you agreed to let me take this vacation?"

"Nonsense," he replied, not really answering my question. "You think too much, Reagan. So, will I see the story on my desk a week from Monday?"

A week from Monday. That meant I had nine days to decide what to do.

"I'll let you know my decision."

"See that you do. This story will make you the next best thing in all things journalism. You won't disappoint me, I'm sure of it." He hung up before I could say another word.