That was a punch to the gut. New presses would cost tens of thousands, possibly more. Money he didn’t have. He blanked his expression. No need to worry the guys. “I’ll look into it,” he said.
Paul nodded, looking at the press wistfully. “Bessie’s a workhorse, that’s for sure.”
Seb said a quick prayer that their workhorse wouldn’t need to be put out to pasture anytime soon. “Thanks for the info, Paul.”
He nodded, taking Seb’s file folder with his column inside and putting it on his tiny desk several feet away from the press.
Letting the men get back to work, Seb went upstairs and plopped down in his chair, mulling over this latest problem. He’d add searching for a printing press to his never-ending to-do list.
Even though it was only ten thirty, he took out a brown paper bag from the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a plasticbag that held the bologna and cheese sandwich he quickly made before dashing out the door this morning. A favorite of his since he was a kid, with a slice of American cheese, beef bologna from the deli, and of course, lots of butter on both slices of white Wonder Bread.
He took a bite as a memory struck him. Jade had looked at him in confusion when they had lunch together inThe Arkansas Democrat-Gazettebreakroom shortly after they started seeing each other.
“Butter on a sandwich?”she’d said, opening a Tupperware container filled with salad greens.
“This is an American elementary school classic.”
“I’m more of a peanut butter and jelly girl.”She’d smiled.
And it reached into his soul.
Was that the moment he was smitten with her? Or maybe it was the next day, when she returned with a matching bologna and butter sandwich and ended up loving it just like he did. Come to think of it, he never saw her eat peanut butter and jelly the entire time they were together.
There he was, reminiscing about her again. He had to stop doing that. He’d been clear about not sellingThe Times, and even though she said they would discuss the deal later, he didn’t expect her to return. Which was what he wanted. She was on the other side now. She was, dare he say, theenemy.
He bit into the sandwich and searched for the ledger again. Flora had written pertinent account numbers inside the cover, plus a password or two. Apparently those were a thing now.“Don’t lose this, Sebastian,”she’d said when she handed it to him on her last day of work.“It’s irreplaceable.”
Seb had nodded, a tad miffed that she assumed he was so careless. Turned out she was right, and he had misplaced it a coupleof times in his mess of an office, only to have it turn up again. In the last place he looked, naturally. He needed to have a designated spot for it and the folder that held the bank statements, but he was too busy to do that right now.
He took a bite of the sandwich and opened the ledger. Staring at the numbers didn’t make the balance at the bottom any bigger, and he didn’t want to think about how he would replace the press if it went down. “Tomorrow,” he said, shutting the book and setting it to the side.
Eager for something far more pleasant, he picked up a half-filled spiral notepad, turned to a fresh page, and started jotting down random things that entered his mind while he finished his lunch. The notebook was full of ideas for future columns, articles, and features.
He paused, glancing around the office. Typically, he didn’t notice his surroundings when he was deep in thought, but this time he saw Buford’s picture on the wall, a broad grin on his face as he cut the ribbon in front of the building on the day he movedThe Clementine Timesto its current location.
Buford had won awards for both his writing and for the paper as a whole. The paper had won several AP awards over the years but nothing during Seb’s tenure.
Seb sat back, letting out a sigh. He’d spent the past ten years learning how to manage a paper on his own and hadn’t been able to nurture Tyler, Isaiah, or any of the other reporters and photogs he’d employed over the years who had moved on to grander journalistic opportunities. Tyler and Isaiah were doing well on their own, but when Seb had worked for Buford, he’d gotten a lot of advice and attention from his mentor, and he should have done the same for his staff.
Then there was his own personal work—the writing he didwhen he was at his cabin in the mountains. He hadn’t touched that story in months, and his inability to focus on his follow-up project had affected not only him but other people as well. Seb was determined that once he andThe Timesmade it through this valley, he could go back to his cabin and fulfill that obligation. He just had to get the paper back to its glory days, or at least somewhere close.
Seb shut the notebook and was balling up the empty lunch bag to throw away when he glimpsed the Harrington Media folder in the trash can. He rarely second-guessed himself when it came to his job, and he was committed to keepingThe Timesa community-based publication. But was he making the right decision, maintaining a subpar paper that kept losing money and subscribers, was run on the tightest of budgets, and now might lose its printing press?
Yes, he was.The Timeswas worth hanging on to.
The alarm clock on his desk beeped, startling him. He shut it off, glad he’d set it before he left the office yesterday, or he would have completely forgotten about his interview with Mabel Win-stead at the Clementine Inn. Her family had founded Clementine ninety-two years ago, and he was doing a series on the history of the town for publication at the end of June. Not only was she a fount of Clementine info, she was also president of the hospitality/ literary/historical society. He was going to enjoy talking to her.
He retrieved a smaller notebook, slid a pen into his shirt pocket, and stood. Shoving the notepad inside the back pocket of his pants, he grabbed his keys and left the office, running into Tyler in the hallway.
“Did you hire Kalista, Mr. H.?” Tyler asked, hope in his eyes.
This kid had it bad, but hopefully he wouldn’t get in too deep. Love in the workplace rarely worked out. Seb had learned thatthe hard way. “She’s meeting you in the circulation department at 3:00 a.m.”
Tyler grinned. Then, as if catching himself, he turned serious and nodded.
“Make sure you train her well.” Seb went to the stairwell. “She’s very inexperienced.” To say the least.
“Don’t worry, Mr. H.”
