I ran upstairs to freshen my makeup even though I’d done it twenty minutes ago, as if that would be the thing to secure me a job. As I swiped my left eye with mascara, I heard a light tap on the door and turned to see Julie. True to her promise, she hadn’t said one word about Bill or his scandal since I arrived. She was a funny little bird. She had told me straight out that she believed she was doing our town an incredible service by providing local news stories in an in-depth way that they would never get from a bigger publication, that they would never see on national news. She had a master’s degree. She’d won a daytime Emmy for her on-air reporting back in Charlotte, for crying out loud. She was very proud of herself, and why shouldn’t she be? I admired her confidence. I would need to borrow it to help Bill. But first, I needed a plan.

Julie’s face, pretty and symmetrical, was covered with way too much makeup, her blond hair sprayed into place so that even the beach wind couldn’t muss it, a holdover from her days as a TV journalist, I imagined. Without all that makeup, when her hair was free and flowing and beachy, she was downright beautiful. I wondered when she would get her second act. She certainly had her hands full with her girls, but wasn’t motherhood the art of juggling?

“Hi,” I said, smiling. “I thought you left.”

She smiled back. “I did, but I forgot…” She held up her phone. “The negative to storing them at dinner is you sometimes forget them in the morning!”

I nodded.

“Before I left, I just wanted to wish you luck. Remember, you are the most powerful woman in any room you walk into.” She paused. “That I’m not in, of course.”

We both laughed. “Thank you,” I said. “To be honest with you, Julie, I needed that. This has really shaken my confidence.”

“What do you mean?”

I sighed and perched on the edge of the bed. “I always had this idea that companies would be clamoring to hire me. And now no one will even return my calls.”

“It will get better, Charlotte. I promise you, it will. Either way, you’ll land on your feet.” She paused. “And if you don’t, you can just stay here with us.”

We both laughed again.

“For real,” she said. “I just wanted to say that Gabe Montoya will love you, but he’s kind of old school. He’s of that ‘little woman’ ilk, which is annoying, but he’s a good guy. He just doesn’t quite get it. Don’t be thrown by it.”

That was very helpful. I was interviewing with Gabe today.