AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 9 - Ben
I looked up from my book to see the rain had finally stopped. About time after three days of either drizzling or storms. Against my better judgment, I reached for my phone, swiping away the missed calls from my brothers and the stream of messages from Ruby. I didn’t know why they were so concerned about me. Changing locations shouldn’t have caused such a stir among my family and assistant. The magazines weren’t going to miraculously turn themselves around because I showed up in the office. They were niche publications that would always have loyal readers and could limp along fine for a little while longer. At least, that’s what I told myself to keep the guilt at bay.
I decided to walk down to the mailbox, which was about a quarter mile down the mountain. I wasn’t expecting anything, but I was going a little stir crazy stuck in the cabin. I’d wanted solitude, but I’d wanted to be able to hike and commune with nature while I was alone, not sit in a cabin that couldn’t decide which century it belonged to while the beautiful mountainside teased me just outside the rain-splashed windows.
The rain didn’t seem to have caused any damage to the property, and the ground was wet but not flooded anywhere I could see. No trees were down, just a few small branches strewn across the road here and there that I picked up and tossed to the side. The air was crisp and I breathed in the strong evergreen scent of the freshly washed trees that surrounded me. Looking straight up, the sky was vibrant, clear blue, not a cloud anywhere.
“About damn time,” I said, picking up my pace.
For the first time in ages I felt inspired to take some pictures. I wanted to capture that exact shade of blue, framed by the deep greens of the pines and the somber browns of their limbs. The mailbox was perched on a sturdy, wooden pole and I expected it to be empty when I swung open the metal door. Instead, there was a big box inside from the overnight shipping service our company used in New York. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t for me, especially when I recognized the logo on the return address, and Ruby’s scrawling handwriting along the side.
Important!
“Never subtle, Ruby,” I said, hoisting it back up to the house.
It weighed at least twenty pounds and when I sliced through the packing tape and upended it onto the coffee table, dozens of magazines spilled out, sliding across the table and onto the floor.
Back issues of all three of my magazines. With an irritated groan, I found the note Ruby had written.
For your research. You might want to take special note of Mountain Living’s performance numbers, since you said that was your focus for this trip.
I could almost hear her sarcastic tone as I read it, then leafed through the folder she included with all the magazines. Picking out the report onMountain Living, I felt my stomach sink as I studied it. It turned out letting things carry on as they were before my father died wasn’t doing so well. Apparently, he’d put a lot more work into the small, niche magazine than I knew. It had always been one of his favorites, and mine as well. Even though it wasn’t as flashy and successful as some of our other titles, it always did well with advertisers and turned a profit.
Now, not so much. Subscriptions had dropped substantially. Advertiser numbers were way down in the last six months and one had pulled out completely for the last two issues. Ruby had included the notes from the last meeting, and I felt a twist of guilt for not attending as I read them. They’d thrown out some ridiculous ideas for reeling in new advertisers, including a list of either inappropriate or downright scammy companies that had applied for space. No one wanted perfume cards in an outdoor sporting magazine, and fat burning belly buster pills shouldn’t have existed, let alone be allowed to advertise in my magazine.
At the end of the report was another handwritten note from Ruby.
Mad yet? Answer your damn messages.
I dropped everything on top of the pile, my drive to take pictures gone. “Damn it, Ruby,” I sighed, finding my phone in all the magazines. I scrolled through to her last message and tapped a reply.
Fine. I’ll do some research.
Her reply came back seconds later.About time you answered. I thought you might have gotten washed away. And I think you meant you’ll continue to research, since that’s why you went there?
I chuckled, caught by the Battleax again. Of course she was keeping tabs on the weather here. I couldn’t stay irritated with her, not when the numbers she sent were so abysmal. I could only handle one crisis at a time and picked out theMountain Livingissues, leaving the others in a heap. It might have felt like it would kill me, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t, so I settled in to peruse them all, and try to figure out what went wrong.
After a few hours, my stomach let me know I needed a break. I had no idea why things had taken such a downturn for the magazine, as the issues I read from cover to cover looked the same as I always remembered. I shook off the lingering sadness that settled over me from reading the letters from the editor, which used to be lovingly written each month by my dad. I should have taken over, but let Dan, his longtime second in command step in. I just didn’t have it in me to try to take his place.
I had used up all my meager supplies and had to go into town to shop again, so I decided I may as well try out the diner while I was down there. Loading up a few more magazines to look over while I ate, I headed down. As soon as I saw the no trespassing sign halfway down the mountain, I shook my head. Clearly posted, plain as day.
It wasn’t like I’d been feeling pangs of guilt for being so harsh to Laurel. I hadn’t been thinking about her at all the past three days.
Lies. Even after finishing the book I brought with me and blowing through several of the books in the cabin, she still claimed too many of my thoughts. I shook them off and tried to feel lucky that I’d dodged that bullet. Instead I only felt lonely.
The diner that claimed it had the best baked potato in the nation had two rows of booths, one against a wall filled with pictures of the area and the other against the windows looking out onto the quaint main street. There was a short bar area where a young couple sat drinking milk shakes and giggling quietly to each other while a cook flipped a burger on the grill behind the open counter. He nodded to me and called out to sit wherever I wanted.
I chose a window seat and spread out my magazines. Two were top selling issues from a year before my dad died and two were recent. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell what made the one so great and the other so mediocre, or make out why the magazine was taking such a nosedive now.
I saw my server come up out of the corner of my eye then abruptly stop and suck in a breath. I looked up to see Laurel standing there with a menu tucked under her arm and a little notepad in her hand, wearing a blue t-shirt with a dancing potato on it. First, all the color drained out of her face, then she slowly went red from the edge of her shirt up to her hairline. Of course she had to work here. Apparently having a death wish didn’t pay all the bills.
“I can’t get away from you, can I?” I asked.
She smirked at me. “Yeah, well being an adrenaline junkie doesn’t pay like it used to.”
I had to laugh, wondering if she could read my thoughts. “Shame,” I said, shaking my head in mock disgust.
She smiled tentatively, comfortable enough to stand in front of my table. She was prettier than I remembered with her hair in a low ponytail and a smudge of pink gloss on her full lips. “I also work part time at the dentist’s office, so be careful of your teeth if you really want to avoid me.”
