by Annie Jones
“Hey, it might not mean tons more ads right away, but it’s a start.”
“A start?” He shook his head. “You got a bank around here who lets a guy write a check ‘on the start of a good impression’?”
Bank? Was money the problem?
“Oh! I almost forgot.” She dived into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a wad of bills. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Your tips. You’ve earned them.”
“No. Thank you, but no.” He pushed the money toward her.
She pushed back. “Don’t be so proud. You came here to learn more about people in Santa Sofia. Well, first lesson—we help each other out.”
“I already got that from hearing their stories tonight, Moxie. I don’t need this—”
“Lesson two.” She held up two fingers. “Everybody has hard times. We’re a has-been tourist town. There isn’t anyone around who doesn’t know what an empty pocket feels like.”
“Hard times? Empty pockets?” He bowed his head, shook it, then met her gaze again, his eyes somber. “Moxie, you have no idea who I am, do you?”
“Hunt Diamante?” She curled her wad of tip money in close to her chest, adding softly, “New editor of the Santa Sofia Sun Times?”
“Not quite.” He held his hands up, as though substantiating an invisible wall between them. “I’m R. Hunt Diamante. Reinhardt…Hunter…Diamante.”
“Reinhardt? That’s your first name?”
“And my mother’s maiden name.” He paused with such purpose that Moxie felt like his partner in a game of charades. His very dense partner. One who didn’t have the slightest idea what his clues meant.
She stared at him and fought to make a conscious effort not to let her face squish up with concentration. Yes, even as she tried to piece together the mystery that was Reinhardt Hunter Diamante, she wanted to look her best doing it.
“Maybe you’ve heard of her family? Reinhardt? Reinhardt Media?”
“Reinhardt Media Enterprises?”
“It’s a big media conglomerate…Very powerful. Very influential. Very—”
“Bad news…”
Tidbits of the conversation the family had had on the day they had gathered to read the botched article sprang to Moxie’s mind. “That’s you?”
“That’s my family.”
“Wow. Your family runs a big media conglomerate and you’re a newspaper editor?” She leaned an elbow on the drink station and rested her chin in her hand. “I guess if you think about it, that does sort of make sense.”
“No, Moxie, it doesn’t make sense at all.” He reached for her upraised hand and slid it gently away from her head, using it to lead her around the trash bag until she stood face-to-face with him. When he spoke to her again, he did so quietly and with only a few inches separating them. “I’m not a newspaper editor. I work for my family.”
“But you’re listed as the editor. That’s not a lie, is it?”
“Well, no. Not a lie. I can…I have a degree in journalism. In fact I love the newspaper business, even though some people think its days are numbered.”
“I can see how you’d be good at it,” she said.
“That’s hardly the consensus after the story I did on your reunion with your mother and sisters.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” she went on. “I can see how you’d be good at it, if you’d let yourself care enough to do what you’re clearly capable of.”
“Thanks.”
“I saw that in the way you worked tonight. You really showed an interest in people. And you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty.” She kicked at the trash bag he had not minded handling.
“I worked my way up from sales to obituaries to hard news at one of my family’s larger papers. I’ve put in the hours and have the know-how. I just…” He rubbed his hand back over his closely cropped hair. “This is how it is—I blow into town when we’ve bought a new newspaper. I run them long enough to see if they can turn a profit and if not…”
He left the rest to her imagination. Only it didn’t take any imagination at all.
“You’ve come to close the Sun Times?”
“Not if it…” He spread his hands and looked around. Finally, nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what’s going to happen.”
“Then what happens to you?”
“Me? Well, then, I guess I move on and do it all over again.”
“You guess? It’s not set in stone?”
“Stone? No. I…” More head rubbing. “I guess I can do pretty much whatever I want.”
“You can do whatever you want and your family won’t freak out on you?”
He gave her a cool, lopsided grin at that. “Reinhardts never freak out, Moxie.”
She took all that in. Freedom and family. Plus, no freak-outs. “You have the greatest job I have ever heard of.”
“Huh?”
“Think about it. You work for your family but you don’t have to work with your family. You get to travel, meet lots of new people.”
He hung his head. “Sometimes I have to close down local landmarks.”
She put her hand on his. The downside of his work had certainly taken its toll. This, however, was something she understood. “But it’s not your job to close them. It’s your job to turn them around. Sometimes you do that, right? Save them?”
“Hmm. Yeah, I guess sometimes I do.”
“See, it’s like that in my business, too.”
He looked around them.
“Not the Bait Shack. I own my own property management company, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s just I’ve never seen you in action, that’s all.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I know it sounds pretty dull to a guy in your line of work, with your background and all, but in the end it’s not so different.”
“Really?”
“That’s right. You get to hear a lot of really fascinating stories then have to ferret out the truth about them and the people telling them.”
“I’ll bet.”
“You try to make things work. You want people to have a home, not to lose their investment. Sometimes that’s not to be.”
“Yeah.” He looked at his shoes.
“But when you can make that happen? When your hard work can turn things around for others?”
“The way to their heart is through service?” he offered.
“Yep.”
“The Sun Times exists to serve the community?” He referenced their earlier conversation about the purpose of a local newspaper. “So if I serve the community, the town will take me into their hearts and—”
“We’ll save the Sun Times.”
“Moxie, I can’t promise that.”
“Oh.” She took a step, remembered the trash bag, turned, picked it up then faced him, her smile returning to her face. “Well, still you have another chance somewhere else and you don’t have your family crowding in on you.”
“There is that.” He took the bag from her.
She nudged him. “Aren’t you going to give me some kind of lecture about how much you wish your family cared about you as much as mine cares about me and how they only do what they do because they love me and want the best for me?”
“Why? The very fact that you’re saying that to me means you already know it.”
She led the way to the back of the Bait Shack, where they could dump the trash on their way to their cars. “You are a keen observer of human nature, Hunt.”
“Naw, just of certain humans.”
She whipped her head around to catch him smiling.
“The ones I can’t keep my eyes off, the ones I want to know more about.”
She smiled, too, only she didn’t let him see it. Then she headed for the door, grateful for the dim lighting to hide the flustered blush on her cheeks. “I think you’re going to do your best to save the Times. You really are a nice guy, after all.”
“Ha!” He stepped out of the back door and pitched the tr
ash bag into the Dumpster.
Moxie leaned against the fender of her truck. “Well, you did get out of your car the first day we met to try to help me. That was awfully nice.”
He came up beside her and looked down into her face, an overly exaggerated scowl on his face. “You were in my way.”
Am I in your way now? She wanted to ask it, wanted to know both why he had stopped to stand so close to her and if there was any chance that her being in Santa Sofia might keep him here no matter what happened at the Times. Instead of all that, she simply asked, “You really going to leave in a few months?”
“Why do you want to know?” he asked softly.
“I just wonder if it’s worth it.” Testing boundaries. She hadn’t really believed she had it in her, yet here she was, not just testing, but actually pushing at them.
“Wonder if what’s worth it? Saving the Sun Times?”
“No.”
“What, then?” He inched just a little closer.
She rolled her eyes. He sure wasn’t making this easy. “I’m going to use this tip money to go toward paying for that ad I promised to run.” Every last word dripped with sarcasm. Maybe he’d pick up on that.
“Then you have your answer. It’s not worth it. You don’t have to run that ad.”
The sarcasm fell away. She raised her chin and gazed up into his eyes. “But I want to.”
“Why? I’ve seen the business this place does. You don’t need to spend money on an ad to keep people coming through the doors.”
She didn’t know if he was being dense or a gentleman or if he was genuinely trying to look out for her by releasing her from a bad business move. “What if I only care about whether one person keeps coming through the door?”
“One? Lot of trouble to go to for one person. Doesn’t seem like good business to me.”
“Lesson three.” She held up three fingers.
“Let me guess. What’s good for business is not always good, or right. Sometimes serving others is more important than showing a profit. True?”
“True but that wasn’t what I was going to say.” Now she moved close. Not in a predatory way but just so that if her nerve failed her, she could still make herself heard.
“What were you going to say?”
“Lesson three. Quit being so dense. You are the person I want to keep coming through the doors.”
“Then don’t bother with that ad. I can’t be bought. I told you that.”
He stepped in and put his hand under her chin, tipping her head back. “You can challenge me, you can make me crazy, that only makes me more determined.”
“More determined to do what?” she asked, keenly aware that every word seemed to put her mouth in position to be kissed.
“To do the right thing.” He kissed her, but only lightly, then stepped away. “That’s all I can promise you, Moxie. I’ll do right by the town, the paper, and, if you really want me to keep coming through the door, by you.”
“Oh, Hunt.”
“But I can’t promise you—”
She put her hand over his lips. “Let’s not talk about what we can’t promise tonight. You do your best. I’ll do mine. We’ll leave the outcome to the Lord.”
Chapter Twenty
Leave it with the Lord.
What a simple plan. A perfect plan. Sometimes a nearly impossible plan.
Moxie did not think she had gotten more than a couple of hours’ sleep after saying good-night to Hunt and before having to get up to go over to the Cromwell cottage to pick up Kate and Dodie. In those hours of nonsleep she had gone over the events of the evening again and again. She had run through various projections of what all could go wrong the next morning. When not doing either of those, she had found her mind wandering to thoughts about what it meant to have a family, to be a part of a family and maybe…someday…to start a family.
That had led her mind to thoughts of Hunt. Then of babies. Then of what she and Hunt’s baby might look like. Then of how little she knew of his background…and of how little she knew of her own background.
Which brought her back to the hard realities of her feelings about the Cromwells, what had happened and what would happen next.
She just couldn’t seem to work through her feelings.
She liked the Cromwells. On some level that she had yet to explore, she believed she loved them. Given time—and space—that love would surely grow. As she had admitted to Hunt last night, she recognized what a blessing it was to have found them. And yet there was something about them she could not get past.
Something about Dodie, most of all.
Every time she had to spend time around Dodie, Moxie went on the defensive. She couldn’t help it. She knew how much the woman wanted to forge a bond, to reconnect, to simply love Moxie and be loved in return. To hear Moxie, after all these years, call her Mom.
Moxie could not do that.
It made her feel awful. Miserable. Like a rotten daughter.
Leaving it with the Lord?
It seemed the only thing Moxie hadn’t tried.
Her restless mind, unsettled heart and sleep-deprived body did not leave her in the cheeriest of moods the next morning.
“Y’all did not have to come along to pick up my dad this morning.” Moxie slid behind the wheel of Dodie’s car, and slammed the door. She’d been looking forward to, and dreading this, all week.
Now she had to add this to the emotional Ping-Pong match going on in her head.
Dad’s coming home.
Good!
Dad’s going to need a lot of looking after and her life was crowded enough already.
Bad!
He wasn’t in danger anymore.
Good!
She wasn’t going to have a moment of peace, much less time to explore a relationship with Hunt and help save the newspaper.
Bad!
Moxie had hoped to work through this without the distraction of Dodie and Kate acting as cheering section, coach and critic over every point she tried to grapple with.
“We don’t mind, dear.” Dodie dropped into the passenger seat then clicked the seat belt decisively into place.
But she never felt she got a moment away from them, or from anticipating when they would expect something of her again.
Kate squirmed in the backseat. When she got herself and her cast comfortably situated, she said, “That’s what families do. When their loved ones need something, families come through.”
“Come through, not come along. They are not the same thing.” It had popped into her head and right out of her mouth.
Let the games begin, she thought, already feeling a dull headache building as the metaphorical little ball she had chosen to represent all her issues began pinging around her brain, never seeming to miss a chance to skip and pop over her very last nerve.
“Molly Christina!”
“I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t appreciate you lending me the car, Dodie.” Moxie pulled out of the drive. “I do. It’s just…”
“Late night at the Bait Shack?” Dodie folded her hands in her lap. She kept her eyes forward but the hint of a catlike smile playing on her lips told Moxie her birth mother knew how to play the game, and play to win.
“How did you know about me and Hunt?” Moxie shot back.
“She didn’t until you said that!” Kate might as well have said, “One point, Mom. Moxie, nothing,” into a microphone in that faux whisper sports announcers sometimes use.
Moxie groaned. “I just assumed somebody who ate there last night said something.”
“And you accuse us of closing in on you!” Kate laughed wryly. “Seems to me that by growing up in Santa Sofia as Billy J’s daughter you’ve had a lifetime of training for life with an obnoxiously close family.”
“So.” Dodie shifted just enough in the seat to put herself at an angle to hear every word and catch every nuance of Moxie’s tense expression. “What’s this about you and Hunt?”
This car was definitely too
small.
Kate stretched forward as far as she could in the backseat. “At the Bait Shack, you say? Until all hours?”
And getting smaller by the second.
Moxie glanced over her shoulder at her big sister and made a face. “I thought sisters were supposed to have each other’s backs in situations like this.”
“All’s fair in love and war.” Kate’s eyes glittered, clearly enjoying Moxie’s discomfort at having her love life, such as it was, offered up for speculation as the topic du jour.
“Girls, girls!” Dodie gave one sharp clap of her hands. “It’s a sisterhood, not a competition.”
“I’m beginning to think those two things are not as diametrically opposed as you make them out to be, Dodie.” All’s fair in love and war? Well, if it was war her sister wanted…“As for me and Hunt it was all out in the open. He pitched in serving at the Bait Shack to help improve his profile in the community. He and I are not at war, Kate, and we certainly haven’t known one another long enough to be in love. Can you say the same about you and Vince?”
“For someone who says she doesn’t get the whole ‘intrusive family, sisterhood as a competition’ dynamic, you sure are awfully crafty at it.” Kate scowled, but beneath that scowl Moxie could see the kind of grudging admiration that she suspected belonged solely to the realm of siblings.
She liked it. Liked it even more when the light of scrutiny shifted away from her and Hunt and onto the ongoing travails of Kate and Vince and the stage of waiting for him to pop the question.
Kate didn’t give a definitive answer, either. However, she took the rest of the trip to not answer it, which allowed Moxie to put her mind on other things, like what she was going to do with Billy J once she got him back to Santa Sofia.
“Where are Dodie and Kate?” Billy J asked when Moxie slipped into his room alone, let the door fall shut, leaned back against it and eased out a sigh of relief.
“I sent them to the cafeteria to get coffee so you and I could be alone.”
“I’ve been alone plenty this past week.” He grabbed at the railing on his bed to help him sit up, then he arranged the sheets nice and smooth over his noticeably smaller belly.