Ace
It was Wednesday by the time Ace made it back into the office. Most of his day Tuesday had been spent writing up Phoenix’s article and texting Phoenix. As it turned out, Phoenix preferred texting to any other form of communication, including face to face. He’d explained that he was able to think about his response, which made sense to Ace.
They’d ended up having a lengthy conversation about an article Ace had written for the National Geographic online, about cave paintings. Phoenix had informed him that his article was ‘mostly accurate,’ though it could have used a number of sources whose names Ace couldn’t remember. He took it as a compliment.
When he walked into the office of the Wilmingson Herald, he couldn’t help but compare it to that of the Chronicle. He’d done the same when he first moved home. Then, he had been lamenting the situation. Now, he was analyzing it. It should have been a no-brainer. The Chronicle had so much more to offer him—a higher salary, a better position, an office that probably didn’t have asbestos in it. But the higher salary still wasn’t enough to let him live alone. He’d have to have a roommate, and his roommate situation in Boston had been less than appealing. Not that there was anything wrong with Todd, but he was very… peculiar.
Bud’s door was open, but he knocked on the frame anyway, and Bud looked up from his computer.
“Hey, Ace. Glad to see you. Shut the door and take a seat, would you?”
Ace frowned, but did as he was told. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, sure! I just don’t want word to get out before it’s time, is all.”
“Word?” His frown deepened.
“I’ve got a position open for you. Full time, great pay, excellent benefits.”
Fuck.
“Wh-what is it?” he asked, his mouth dry.
Bud looked hesitant, and it took him a moment to answer. “Editor-in-chief of the Wilmingson Herald.”
It didn’t sink in right away what Bud was saying, but when it did, Ace gaped. “What?”
“You heard me right. I’m not offering it to anyone else just yet. Wanted you to have first dibs on it. You’d still have to apply officially, of course.”
“I don’t understand. Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?”
Bud shook his head quickly. “No, nothing like that. It’s just, well, Maryann’s had some health problems. I don’t suppose you knew about her cancer scare a couple of years back.”
Shame flooded through Ace. Maryann had been one of his mom’s close friends. He hadn’t really kept in touch after moving away, but she had always thought highly of him.
“I didn’t, no.”
“She went in to the doctor complaining about chest pain. They found a spot on her lung. They got it early, thank God, and chemo took care of the worst of it, but she’s not been in the best shape, since. The chemo really took a lot out of her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
“Don’t let her hear me saying any of this. She’d have a fit if she knew I was telling you. But someone’s got to take care of her, and with the boys gone…”
Ace nodded in understanding. Bud and Maryann had two sons, both of whom were military. They were proud of them, but it made situations like this one difficult.
“I understand. Really, I do. I know Dad wanted to quit to stay home when Mom got sick, but someone had to pay the bills. Are you planning on retiring, then?”
He nodded. “First of the year. I turned sixty-seven last year, so I’m all squared away for retirement, and with her disability, we’ll be fine. I just want to make sure the paper’s in good hands.”
“And you don’t think Kenna could do it?”
Ace didn’t think Makenna could do it, but he had more tact than to come right out and say it.
Bud shook his head. “Her heart’s with the magazine, and I don’t blame her. She enjoys it, and she’s good at it. But you’re not happy there, and I can see that. You always did have a heart for people.”
The words made Ace’s stomach twist. It was true, he had. But he was also acutely aware of the fact that he had used that line in his interview with the Chronicle. What did it say about him that he had a heart for everyone except the citizens of the town where he’d grown up?
It was a solid offer, Ace had to admit. He didn’t know what the pay would be, but the cost of living would certainly make up for any difference, if there was any difference. And he would be able to put ‘editor-in-chief’ on his resume. But what good was that, if it was just the local paper? His mind raced, then settled on Phoenix. If he stayed, he would be able to stay close to Phoenix. He pushed the thought away.
“Can I take a few days to think it over?” he asked. “It’s all a bit sudden.”
“Of course. Please do. I don’t want you to make an impulse decision.” Bud smiled at him, his granite features seeming to soften. “Sleep on it and let me know when you feel ready.”
Ace stood, still reeling. He hadn’t expected this—the possibility that he would have to choose which life he wanted. The choice should have been obvious. The job in New York was clearly the better option. Except it didn’t have Phoenix, and he wasn’t sure he could handle being so lonely again.
“I’ll get back to you.” His voice sounded distant to his own ears.
Making his way through the newsroom, he pushed the door open and took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. There was a bite to it, which hinted that a cold snap was coming soon. But Ace relished it. This was something he had missed in Boston. There, the air had been so thick and foggy. Seeing the stars at night had been impossible.
And Wilmingson had Phoenix.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his texts, selecting his conversation with Phoenix.
Ace: Do you have any plans for Friday night?
Phoenix: It’s like you don’t even know me.
Phoenix: That was a joke. I don’t.
Ace: Do you want to come to my house for dinner?
Phoenix: Sure. What time?
Ace: Six-thirty work for you?
Phoenix: Yes. I’ll see you then.
Smiling to himself, Ace pocketed the phone and walked to his car. He had a date to plan.