“He respects you. He trusts you.”
“He loves this paper,” Sam assured her. “And he loves the people who work here.”
Molly studied him for a moment. “You’re trying to change it. Carl never wanted the Sentinel to become a community newsletter. He always wanted a serious journalistic paper geared for a small-town readership.”
“And he can have that. But without a few changes, the Sentinel can’t turn a profit. The market has changed. Carl hasn’t changed with it.”
“I still think the transportation hub piece is a good idea,” she said. “It’s relevant. It’s local. And it’s got bite.”
“Would it surprise you to learn that I think it’s a good idea, too?”
She frowned. “But you said—”
He shook his head with a slight laugh. “Because you didn’t let me finish.” At her sharp glare, he suppressed a grin. He was seriously pissing her off, he suspected, but she was still too embarrassed to storm out on him. At least he had that in his favor. “We’re going to have to work on that.”
“Before or after dinner?” she asked dryly.
“Before.” He had other plans for after. Sam leaned back in his chair and felt himself relax. She was still listening. That had to be a good sign. “Here’s the thing,” he began. In business and in life, he’d always found it best to lay these matters out in a methodical fashion. Some women couldn’t handle that, but Molly was brilliant and capable. Though she had a reckless streak that made her act impulsively, he was fairly certain she’d respond to logic. “This ad—it has raised questions in my family.”
“I’ll bet.”
Her expression told him nothing. He sensed Molly was deeply embarrassed, but she was masking it well, facing the consequences with a courage he admired. “My brother, Ben, got married last year. His wife is—unconventional.”
He detected a slight smile at the corners of her mouth. “So I’ve heard.”
He didn’t doubt it. His brother’s engagement and marriage had been widely publicized. Sam shrugged. “I like Amy. A lot, actually. And now that my family knows her, they adore her as well. But the relationship has been a little tumultuous.”
“And now that your brother has tied the knot, everyone is looking for a new target.”
He thought of his aunt’s phone call that morning and grimaced. She was the latest to join the campaign with his stepmother and half sister. “You could say that.”
“And you’re it.”
He nodded. “Both my stepmother and sister have been scheming for years to get me down the aisle. My sister’s hobby is planning weddings—hers, and other people’s. Now she’s got my aunt and my sister-in-law involved. At least Ben is smart enough to leave me alone, but the women are making me feel like George Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.”
Molly chuckled, and it heightened the gold flecks in her green eyes. Sam had always liked Molly’s eyes. They were expressive and revealing. He saw passion and intelligence in them—a combination he found irresistibly sexy. “I know the feeling,” she assured him. “I’ve got four older sisters.”
“My last relationship came to a spectacular end.” Though her gaze had turned curious, he forged ahead. Time enough to explain Pamela later. “I was actually looking forward to going to London for Ben.”
“And then the Payne Sentinel got in your way.”
“Hmm,” he concurred. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m having difficulty getting people here to trust me.”
“I think it’s your car,” she said, her tone serious.
“My car?”
“You drive a sports car. The only people in Payne who drive sports cars are insurance salesmen and morticians. You figure it out.”
He stifled a laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman beyond his immediate family had made him feel like laughing. “Minivans and SUVs?”
“Or four-door sedans. Payne is that kind of place.”
“You drive a ’72 Beetle.” It was sunset orange and had a hell of an exhaust problem. He’d have to convince her to let him take a look at that.
“I’m the town rebel.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “There’s only room for one, you know.”
“If I can get the staff of the Sentinel to follow my lead, I can save this paper,” he said more seriously. “But frankly, you’ve got everyone thinking they have to choose sides between you and me. Right now, they’re walking the fence because they’re afraid for their jobs.” He shook his head. “But if you force them to choose, they’ll follow you.” He leveled a hard look at her. “Even if it’s right off a cliff. If you want the Sentinel to survive, you will have to accept some changes.”
“Just because I don’t agree with every decision you make doesn’t mean I’m not willing to accept change.”
“Then prove it to me.” He leaned forward and planted his hands on the desk. “Convince me.”
“Meaning date you?”
What, Sam wondered, slightly annoyed, was so damned unbelievable about the concept of having dinner with him. He had it on relatively good authority that he was considered highly eligible.
Ben would’ve reminded him that wooing women was nothing like negotiating contracts. It was five times harder, took ten times longer, and required twenty times the effort. Sam carefully chose his next words. “I’m talking about a business arrangement,” he said softly. “A contract. Everyone in this town trusts you. If they perceive that you trust me, they will as well. This ad—” He thumped the paper with his knuckles. “People are asking questions. I want to give them answers that satisfy their curiosity without appearing to look like I have lost control.”
“But I didn’t mean—”
He headed off her argument. He’d learned in the last six weeks that letting Molly reach full steam was never a good idea. “And the people in Payne aren’t the only issue. You can imagine how my sister reacted. The fact that a woman finally got the best of me has her positively ecstatic.”
Molly winced. “Sorry.”
“And it’s going to be embarrassing if I have to explain this by saying that you blew up at me at a meeting.” He looked at her narrowly. “I would think you’d find it pretty humiliating yourself.”
“I do,” she insisted.
“But if people believe we are romantically involved, they’ll brush this off as a lover’s quarrel. We’ll take a couple of jabs about it. Then the whole thing’ll just blow over. You’ll be lauded for having gotten the better of me. And if my family believes that I’ve finally found a woman who will put up with me, they’ll—” He stopped. He wasn’t ready to elaborate yet. It was more information than he wanted Molly to have. “There will be no embarrassing explanations nor apologies.”
“No one is going to believe that you and I are romantically involved. Not after what they’ve seen for the last six weeks.”
He shrugged. “People see what they want to see. A few public appearances, a couple of social engagements, and everyone will be saying they knew it all along.”
“So you want me to pretend I’m involved with you?”
“No,” he said carefully. “There’s no pretense about it. I don’t play games.”
She frowned at him. “You’ve lost me.”