“I’m sorry, Adam, but we can’t give you the loan.” Lars Johnson looked up at him with a kindly smile. “There’s just not enough evidence that a web presence for the Candle Beach Weekly would increase profits enough to pay the money back. If circumstances change, please let us know. I’d love to be able to help you and this community needs their newspaper.” He nodded to a copy of the Weekly on his desk. “I know I do.” He smiled again, then stacked the papers in a neat pile and placed them in front of Adam. Then, he pushed back his leather desk chair and stood, straightening his charcoal gray pin-striped suit.

That would be the cue to leave. Adam Rigg smiled and stood too, shaking Lars’s hand. “I understand. Thank you for considering my application.”

He picked up his business plan from the desk and walked slowly through the bank. The leather soles of his shoes tapped against the marble floor. It felt as though everyone’s eyes were on him, although most likely they were all engrossed in their own bank transactions. He greeted a few of the customers then pushed on the glass door, stepping out into the sunny but chilly-to-the-bone January afternoon.

Now what? When he’d bought the Candle Beach Weekly from its octogenarian owner a few years prior, sales had been in the dumps and ad revenues had been almost nonexistent. He’d improved the business to the point where it was currently self-sustaining, but lately, the lack of new subscriptions and dwindling sales had caused concerns about the newspaper’s future. To bring it into the twenty-first century, the newspaper would have to have a web presence to increase ad revenues. However, having a website designed and maintained would cost more than he could afford at the moment.

But now that he’d been turned down for a loan by the only bank in Candle Beach, how was he going to get the money to make the necessary improvements?

He walked away from the bank in a daze, heading down Main Street. Halfway to the newspaper office, someone touched him on the arm.

“Hey,” a woman said. She had her arm linked with that of a tall, handsome man.

He looked up and sadness pinged through his chest. Gretchen Roberts and her boyfriend, Parker Gray. She smiled up at Adam, then adjusted the turquoise crocheted winter hat she wore over her long dark hair. Her face was flushed prettily from the cold and she looked as adorable now as she had when they were kids, sledding together down Main Street on a snowy day off from school.

“Hey, Gretchen. Parker. Nice to see you.”

She peered at him, scrutinizing his face. “Are you okay? You look like you’re on autopilot.”

Next to her, Parker shifted on his feet and stared off toward the park. Adam followed his gaze. Children’s laughter floated out from the swings as they soared higher and higher into the sky. Near the playset, their mothers sat on wooden benches, clutching warm cups of to-go coffee from the Bluebonnet Café as they chatted with each other.

He forced a smile. “I’m fine. I was meeting with Lars Johnson at the bank. I’ve got to get going though, I hope you both enjoy the beautiful day.”

“Wait. You don’t look okay. What’s wrong?”

He shot a glance at Parker. “I can tell you some other time, it looks like you two are on your way to somewhere.”

“Okay,” she said, but the concern on her face remained. “I’ll give you a call later. It’s been a while since we had a chance to catch up. Parker and I are making progress on our new real estate company. I’ll be sure to hit you up for some ads in the paper when we open for business.”

“Sure. That would be great.”

He waved at them and continued his trek down the hill. Gravel on the pavement crunched under the wing tip shoes he’d worn with his suit for the meeting at the bank. He loosened his tie with one hand. The darn things always made his throat feel like someone was choking him. As soon as he was back at the office, he’d change into the cotton polo shirt and khaki pants that he wore almost like a uniform at work.

A block later, he stopped to look back behind him. Gretchen and Parker were walking hand in hand away from him, toward the Bluebonnet Café. As he watched, Parker must have said something funny, because Gretchen stopped and laughed before gently slugging his arm and kissing him on the cheek.

Adam swallowed a knot in his throat that hadn’t been caused by the boa-constrictor-like tie. He dropped off his business plan on his desk at the newspaper office, and then went upstairs to his small one-bedroom apartment.

A cold, wet nose greeted him at the door.

“Hey, Otis.” He leaned down to pet the shaggy golden retriever. Otis rewarded him by nudging against his leg.

“You probably want to go out, huh?” Adam said to the dog. Otis heard “out” and tried to squeeze past his owner, almost bowling Adam over in the process.

“Hold on buddy, I’ve got to change my clothes.” At least his dog was glad to see him, and a walk would do both of them good.

He changed out of his clothes, carefully re-hanging his suit in its garment bag and placing it in the back of the closet so it would be ready for the next time he had to be formally dressed.

After checking to make sure he had transferred everything from his suit pockets, he hooked the leash onto Otis’s collar and pulled his apartment door shut. Otis galloped down the stairs and it was all Adam could do to keep up with him. Normally, they would go for a long walk in the mornings or play in the park, but Adam had been too preoccupied that morning to do more than let him out for a few minutes. He followed Otis to the newspaper office’s front door and locked it behind him.

The dog instinctively tugged at the leash, pulling him down the hill past Candle Beach Kids and the Seaside Grill, and not stopping until they’d reached the top of the beach trail that overlooked the ocean. Below him, the Pacific Ocean roared with the force of a freight train, its waves leaving foam along the shore for the birds to traverse as they hunted for something tasty to eat.

He breathed in the cold, salty air and willed his body to relax. He’d grown up in Candle Beach and had worked as a delivery boy for the Candle Beach Weekly as a child. It had always been his dream to own the newspaper, a dream that had come true via hard work and discipline. Now, it could all be in jeopardy if he couldn’t modernize its operations. Every other paper in the coastal region had an online presence. Subscriptions had dropped lately as more and more people got their news online and he needed to keep up with the times. At this rate, he’d be out of business within a year.

Otis tugged on the leash, eager to get down to the sand. Adam took another deep breath and climbed down the steep stairs to the beach. Lately, nothing seemed to be going right. Seeing Gretchen and Parker together had hurt more than he’d wanted to admit. He and Gretchen had been childhood friends, and in the back of his mind he’d always thought they’d end up together. After a disastrous date last summer, he’d realized that prospect was unlikely, and now seeing her so happy with Parker, he knew with certainty that they’d never be more than friends.

It didn’t really matter though. He didn’t have time for a relationship—not if he wanted to make the newspaper a success and a viable business for the future. When he was in college, he’d allowed his emotions to take control and he’d lost out on a prestigious job to stay in Washington, D.C. while his college girlfriend finished up school. But he couldn’t afford anything like that now. This was real life, and his savings wouldn’t keep the newspaper afloat much longer.

Seagulls scattered as he and Otis walked along the edge of the water on the hard-packed sand. Few people were out on the beach, but those who braved the cold were bundled up in heavy jackets. He stuffed his hands in his own coat pockets, rubbing his thumbs and fingers together to warm them. It was time to get to work. News on the coast had been slow lately, but he needed to drum up something to keep his subscribers informed and entertained.

A little kid, probably about four years old, splashed around in the tide pools in his rubber boots while his mother urged him not to get too wet. The kid jumped in a large puddle, spraying water everywhere, then looked at his mother in defiance. Adam had to stifle a grin. His little niece would do exactly the same thing.

He checked his watch. They’d been out for over an hour and he really needed to get back to work.

“Hey old buddy, time to go home.” He tugged on the leash and pointed up the hill toward town.

If there was a dog pout Olympics, Otis would be a champion.

Adam grinned at the comical expression on his dog’s face. “Sorry. We’ll go out later, I promise.”

A couple walking past gave him an odd look, most likely because they’d heard him talking to his dog. He smiled and waved at the strangers. Their lips slipped into polite smiles as they hurried past them. Great. He was supposed to be convincing tourists that Candle Beach was a wonderful place to visit and now this couple thought it was full of loonies. He and Otis hiked back up the hill. Upon entering the apartment, the dog walked over to a rug near the kitchen and lay down, no doubt to pout some more. Adam returned to work downstairs, intent on researching a new story he was working on about the logging industry’s plans for the area.

He’d persuaded a local landowner, John Nichols, to speak with him about a prospective sale of his trees to a nearby lumber mill. Although Nichols was normally reluctant to discuss anything with the media, Adam had finally worn him down and they’d scheduled a meeting for next week. If he played his cards right, he could get a scoop on things before all of the other coastal newspapers. A story like that could influence new people to subscribe to the Weekly, but first he needed to make sure he was up to date on everything regarding the logging industry.

He signed on to his computer and started the immense task in front of him. His love life may never recover from being in a shambles, but at least he was doing everything he could to make the paper a success.