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“What kind of writers are you looking for?” Alissa asked, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.
“I need someone who can find the news that would be interesting to the people of the area and tell it in a compelling way. Talking to people, keeping your finger on the pulse, things like that,” he said.
Alissa brightened even more, pushing her wire-rimmed glasses up on her nose. They were oversized in a way that was nerdy, but stylish. “That sounds right up my alley. I love talking to people and doing interviews.”
Her earnest attitude was almost too much for Dane to handle. Was it really her speed? The articlesEpicput out were the total opposite of what a town like this wanted. They were on the cutting edge of everything, while one of the most interesting articles that they’d published so far was about a traffic jam caused by geese in the middle of the main road.
A new fear popped into his head. He could begrudgingly admit that someone who worked forEpicwasn’t going to drop into his office every other day. What if he got a great writer and then they left if they got bored? The idea of getting some great work, having the paper get a great reputation, then have that talent disappear… Dane couldn’t let that happen.
“It’s very different thanEpic,” Dane finally said. “In case you couldn’t tell, this is a sleepy area and not a lot is going on. You won’t have the same level of exposure or level of excitement.”
“I know, but I know my strengths.” Spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “I’m a great writer and I can get great stories out of people, no matter how small. Sometimes I prefer the smaller stories. They’re more personal.”
He believed that she was a great writer, but that was the problem—she seemed almost too good to be true. Dane wasn’t that optimistic. Plus, that plucky attitude of hers was probably going to drive him nuts. She was positive now, but the glimmer in his eye told him that her attitude could turn a little sassy in the right circumstances.
Dane opened his mouth to speak, but Josie cut him off.
“Can you come in tomorrow so we can talk more specifics?” Josie asked. “Maybe around nine or so?”
“Of course!” Alissa’s voice was bright, but the look she shot Dane was smug. “I’ll bring my samples. See you tomorrow.”
Alissa turned and left. Dane waited several beats before turning to Josie, who sipped her coffee, nonplussed.
“What on earth did you do that for?” Dane asked.
“Were you not just saying that things were going terribly and the articles were stale?” Josie asked. Dane huffed. “You need writers. And whether you want to believe it or not, that girl is really qualified and ready to work. You can at least try to give her a shot. Look at what she’s written. Try.”
Dane took a huge bite of his sandwich so he wouldn’t have to answer right away. Josie, already able to read him more than he wanted her to, laughed.
“What, are you worried she’s going to sass you or something? Or be insubordinate? Or maybe even make you smile?” Josie snorted, a smile spreading across her face. “Because that’s exactly what you need—someone to resist you a little bit. Teach you how to deal with that kind of person. Give you a little contrast in your day.”
Dane finished chewing and swallowed, pretending to only casually acknowledge her words. But in truth, they gave him something to think about for the rest of the afternoon. He considered himself to be tough, but Josie’s words stuck out in his head—working with Alissa might teach him how to work with someone who contrasts him. He always thought he worked with people who contrasted him plenty. They were more upbeat than him by far and subtly let him know that fact regularly through passive-aggressive emails.
How much more contrast could he possibly need? He contrasted Josie. He contrasted everyone else in this town. Everything he did contrasted.
He waited until Josie had gone home for the day to open up his personal email. Now the email from Alvin sat below an email from a friend he hadn’t heard from in a while, Ross. They used to work together at Dane’s former paper, but Ross had moved on somewhere else. He hadn’t heard from Ross in a while, so he opened the email.
Hey, Dane,
Hope you’re all settled in Rhode Island. Remember when you told me that you were moving to Blueberry Bay and starting a paper, and my first question was, “where on earth is that?” Well, as it turns out, my girlfriend’s family is from a town near there and we’re coming to visit in a few weeks. I’d love to grab a beer and see what your paper looks like, if you’re free.
-Ross
Dane’s stomach clenched. In most circumstances, he would have been happy to see Ross. He was a good guy and one of the few people he could call a friend, even if they didn’t speak all that often. But the thought of him coming and seeing a failing paper was the last thing he wanted to experience.
So he had to make it work. He didn’t want anyone to see him fail, or in the middle of failing.
Dane went ahead and emailed him back, saying he’d be happy to grab a beer. After he hit send, he sat back and sighed. Hopefully Josie was right—Alissa might have been just what the paper needed. Dane really needed her to be.
CHAPTERSIX
Alissa pulled the thick blanket around her shoulders and curled one leg underneath her on the porch bench. It was chilly out, but not unbearable with the heat lamp nearby. She wanted the crisp, salty air of the ocean against her skin. It was perfect with the beautiful view of the ocean, lit up by the full moon, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
She had slept better than she had in ages since she’d arrived. There wasn’t any street noise or strange creaks from her neighbors above and next to her. Just this—the ocean and the breeze. Monica’s incredible food helped too. Tonight was cottage pie with pinot noir, followed by pecan pie for dessert. Monica and her husband, Braden, were great company too. Since Alissa was the only boarder at the moment, dinner felt like an evening with close friends.
Alissa smiled, opening the notebook she’d brought outside with her. She had written so much in the past few days that her hand was a bit sore. Her imagination had gone wild since she’d gotten here and she was adding onto notes for a romance novel she’d had an idea for years ago.
Everywhere she went inspired her—the cute elderly couple holding hands on the beach, the sight of boats drifting by, the smell of books that permeated the entire house. She hadn’t been this creative and productive in years.
