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Alissa made her way up to her room with Monica’s suggestion still floating through her mind. Maybe it was worth checking out, at least. What was left for her in Denver, anyway?
CHAPTERFIVE
Dane fought off another yawn, wondering if the barista had made his mid-morning latte with decaf. It was barely two in the afternoon and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. He had never felt this exhausted before, even during the most stressful times of his career.
Then again, he hadn’t needed to try to create news out of thin air back then. He hadn’t had to do four people’s jobs at the same time. And he was excited to get up and go to the office every day back then. Now he just had a pit of dread in his gut when he woke up, a pit that only got deeper the more and more the day went on.
He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose and turning his attention to the task he’d been putting off all day—reading an article from his staff writer.
The sliver of hope Dane had cultivated disappeared after reading the first three bland, lifeless sentences. When the writer had come to Dane with the idea for a story about a beach clean-up led by local high schoolers, Dane thought it had potential. From what he could tell, people around here liked feel-good stories about helping each other out. Apparently having a topic that people in town would love wasn’t enough to make an article grab his attention.
“Shoot,” Dane murmured to himself. Was it worth rewriting? It just wouldn’t do. It was supposed to be the lead article of the week, one of two on the front page.
“Hey there!” Josie said, knocking on the door and holding up a bag from The Crab and a travel carrier of coffee. “I brought you a late lunch.”
“Thanks.” Dane pushed his keyboard away to make space for his food.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“Terrible.” Dane scoffed, pulling his sandwich out of the bag. “This article is stale, so now I have to rewrite this one plus a few others. And I’m wondering if it’s even worth rewriting or if I should just scrap it all together.”
“Oof.” Josie shook her head, sitting down across from him and sipping her coffee. “I’ve been trying to advertise for new writers but no one’s responded yet. I posted online and at every store or shop that has a bulletin board.”
Dane sank into his seat. Even the deliciousness of his Reuben couldn’t distract him from that bad news. He figured someone would at least try to apply, even if they weren’t a perfect fit.
“Does it matter?” he asked, opening his coffee to add more sugar to it. “I highly doubt that a small town like this would have anyone qualified to produce the kind of writing I’m looking for. And I refuse to compromise.”
Josie nodded, though Dane could see her holding back something.
“What?” Dane raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe the town will surprise you. You never know.” Josie shrugged, taking a long swig of coffee.
Dane couldn’t muster up the hope that Josie had. All he could muster was energy to eat.
Maybe this was all a big mistake. How could he have assumed that other places would have the same well of talent as a big city? What if they searched for months until the paper had to close down? He shoved that thought aside right away. The idea of failure was too much to bear.
Alvin’s email was still sitting in his inbox, untouched, and for whatever reason, the urge to open it came through in moments like this. Was he hoping that Alvin had changed his mind, or did he just want to linger in his misery a little more? Dane hoped it wasn’t the latter. That wasn’t like him. He fought until he got things done, and done well.
The front door of the office opened a little, then all the way, revealing a tall young woman standing with her hands tucked into her pockets. The light lit up her short curls like a halo around her head until she stepped all the way inside. Dane frowned. No stranger would be able to stroll into his office back in New York. That was yet another thing about this small town—it was so easy for people to show up like this.
“Um, hi,” the woman said, hiking her canvas tote bag up on her shoulder. “Sorry, is thisThe Outlet?”
“It is! How can I help you?” Josie asked with a smile.
“Oh, good!” The woman brightened, her naturally pretty features becoming even lovelier. “I’m Alissa. I saw that you were looking for a journalist and wanted to see if the spot was still open.”
Dane held in a sigh. This woman had amateur written all over her—her bright, excited expression, her eagerness. She probably still had dreamy thoughts of tapping away on a keyboard and chasing down a story like Lois Lane.
“The position requires someone highly qualified,” Dane said. “And I doubt that’ll be found around here.”
Dane hadn’t intended to sound so blunt, but his words came out that way anyway. Instead of being put off, Alissa straightened up, her combat boots squeaking on the wood floor.
“I’m not from around here. I’m from Denver,” Alissa said. “I used to work forEpic.”
Dane crossed his arms over his chest. He could admit he was slightly—slightly—impressed.Epicwas a well-known publication and had some great writers. He had several stacks of back issues piled up in his living room, and sometimes he returned to them when he wanted to revisit a particularly inspiring article.
But instead of saying that, all Dane said was, “Okay.”
