“Maybe that’s precisely what you need.”
She lifted her gaze to his and raised a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Publicity. Free promotion for your store. Pete’s photos can do as much good for Emerson’s as they can for my career. Surely that would be a boon to you, getting your face in front of the masses, so to speak. Let them know about the changes you’re making.”
Her face went from white to flaming red in a single breath of air.
“Not in this lifetime.”
“What? Free publicity?”
“No. My face in front of people. That’s not something I want to do.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” he pressed, as the notion formed into solid concept. “You know all of those car salesmen and ambulance-chasing lawyers on television? They get their clients by using themselves to sell their products and services.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone in Serendipity already knows I run Emerson’s Hardware.”
“Maybe so, but isn’t part of the reason you’re doing the renovation to bring in customers from surrounding towns? To be the go-to store for Kickfire Western wear products?”
“True,” she admitted.
“It’s solid marketing. Giving your store a face is a great way to personalize it,” he said, “and draw in customers. That’s the reason sponsors use me in their commercials. To give their products a face.”
“Yes, but—”
He could see he wasn’t convincing her. She didn’t appear shy or introverted, but it had been a long time since they’d interacted on a personal basis. Maybe he was pushing her out of her comfort zone.
Whereas Cash—well, he loved the limelight.
“No, wait. I’ve got a better idea. I can do it,” he crowed as the lightbulb in his head beamed brighter than the sun.
For the first time since Aaron’s death, he felt excited about an idea, allowing it to break through the black cloud of his meager existence. He embraced the feeling. He wanted to do something other than nurse a tumbler of whiskey to numb his pain.
“Look. I’m trying my best to repair my reputation. If I clean up my act and become a positive influence—and wear Kickfire products—I can be your spokesperson. It’ll help you gain more leverage with the store, and it will help me find new sponsors, once they see what a difference I’ve made for you and Kickfire.”
“Maybe,” she hedged.
He squeezed her hand. “It’s the perfect plan. I help you, you help me.”
He had every intention of helping her with far more than just offering his face for the camera and his public persona for the store. He aimed to receive inventory, move displays around, stock shelves and sweep the floors.
But she didn’t have to know he’d be looking for extra ways to make her life easier.
This was the perfect way to redeem himself. He had developed his own set of moral principles to help him stay on the straight and narrow and he intended to follow those values to the letter.
Not that he ever could.
Not with the burden he carried.
He made a silent promise to himself. By the time he left Serendipity and went back to the rodeo, Alyssa would trust him.
If he couldn’t win her over, there was no hope that the rest of the world would embrace him. Until he proved himself with her, he wasn’t ready to go back to his old life.
“I can see what you’re saying about my marketing plan,” she acknowledged. “But before we go any further, there’s one other issue, and I need you to tell me the truth.”
His heart beat so hard he thought it might leap out of his chest.
“What do you want to know?” he finally asked, his voice raspy with emotions.
She stared at him for a long moment before speaking.
“How many of the rumors I’ve heard about you are true?”
* * *
Alyssa believed asking Cash about his recent past was reasonable, especially if she took him up on his offer to become the face of Emerson’s Hardware. She couldn’t have surprises lurking under every stone, revelations that could potentially harm the good name of Emerson’s Hardware.
She hated to admit it, but what he’d said about her publicity strategy—or lack of one—made sense, even for as small a town as Serendipity. She intended to target several surrounding towns. As Cash had mentioned, people would come in from out of town once they heard she was selling Kickfire products. She’d recently created a website for the store so folks in the tri-county region and beyond could peruse weekly specials and feel compelled to visit her store. She was even looking into the prospect of shipping products directly to consumers.
That would majorly change the focus of her little shop and held the possibility of creating a substantial second stream of income. Her biggest concern was that once Cash fulfilled his obligation, she would once again be working the store alone. No matter how desperately Emerson’s needed a boost in income, she didn’t want to bite off more than she’d be able to chew.
At this point she wasn’t planning to ship beyond the local area, but who knew what the future held?
One thing was certain—having a handsome cowboy hawking the goods—one who’d successfully sponsored other products in the past—would be a definite plus, especially for the Western wear.
But only if she could trust him.
And that was a big if right now.
If Cash was willing to lay it all out on the line and tell her the truth, and if he truly intended to strive to make up for his wrongdoings, she might be able to overlook the predicaments that got him into trouble in the first place.
Even if she had to put up with Martin’s annoying interference and his own ideas for what a publicity campaign should entail, not to mention Pete’s camera flashing.
Everyone deserved a second chance, didn’t they? Even a man like Cash, who’d fallen from grace in the rodeo world and was now struggling just to survive.
Maybe especially a man like Cash.
But only if he came clean now—literally and figuratively.
She waited, her breath catching in her lungs as Cash gathered his thoughts. He dropped his gaze and stared at the picnic blanket.
Was he going to explain what had really happened to him, or was he preparing to put on that false cowboy charm of his and try to find a way to gloss it over?
She suspected he was wearing a mask, and it was up to him to remove it and let Alyssa see what he looked like underneath the facade.
“Yeah. Okay.” He paused and pursed his lips. “You deserve the truth if we’re going to work together.”
She nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard. Why don’t you tell me, and then I’ll tell you how it really went down?”
“The drinking,” she prompted, saying the first thing that came to mind. She might as well give it to him straight and hope he did the same with her.
“Yes.” He didn’t say another word, just caught her gaze and held it firm.
That was it?
Yes?
There had to be more to it than that.
“You did drink? You still do? I suppose what you do on your own time is your business,