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here. She felt no obligation to her crazy family, their obsolete business, or this ridiculous, has-been, hillbilly town that had nothing to offer but ghost stories and regrets.
    “I’m really sorry, Granddaddy,” Cherise said, turning to look up into his milky eyes. “I can’t do this. I should never have agreed to come back here. I’m afraid this isn’t going to work.”
    Her grandfather lifted his chin and laughed, all while guiding her toward the conference room with a hand against her back. “That’s the thing about newspapering,” he said, ignoring the fact that she was now digging her heels into the old wood floors in an effort to prevent any additional forward progress. “You just have to jump in, Cheri girl. It’s what all the Newberrys before you have done. You’re going to do great. It’s in your blood.”
    “But…”
    Granddaddy stopped pushing her and removed his hand. She nearly fell.
    “You promised me you’d at least try,” he said, his face pulled tight in seriousness.
    “I—”
    “Give it four weeks. That’s all I ask. If you still feel this way in a month, I won’t force it—you can go on back to your business in Tampa and forget this ever happened.”
    Cherise took a deep breath. “Will you shut down the Bugle if I don’t stay?”
    “More than likely.”
    Cherise blinked at Granddaddy. It was true—she’d given him her word. And she certainly needed the money. A few thousand dollars would be enough for a fresh start. Besides, she could survive anything for a month. Her foray into the world of temp work had taught her that, if nothing else.
    “Is there a problem?” J.J. stood in the conference room door, his arms folded across his broad chest and his head cocked in annoyance at their slow progress.
    What had happened to him? Cherise wondered. Sure, he was still insanely handsome with that thick, black hair and those intense, bottomless blue eyes. His body was ripped like it had always been, thanks to his fondness for hikes, mountain-biking, and rock climbing. But when had he become so serious? What had happened to the playful man she once knew? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a sincere smile on J.J. DeCourcy’s face.
    Cherise suddenly stiffened, a sharp awareness slicing through her. Oh, yes she did. Of course she remembered .
    It was her last night in Bigler before she left for college. She and J.J. were sitting on the edge of the dock, their bare toes making circles in the warm lake water, their feet bumping against each other’s, their bodies so close she was halfway on his lap.
    He kissed her one last time. It was so sweet and hot and deep that her head reeled. She’d allowed herself to fall into it, melt away in the hot rush of that kiss. Just one last time. Then she’d pulled away.
    That’s when he’d smiled at her. He looked down into her face, the moonlight shimmering in his eyes, as his lips parted and his dimples deepened. It was one of those charming, lopsided, puppy-love smiles he’d been giving her since the middle school mixer, when he’d professed his eternal devotion and showed her the “CNN” he’d scrawled on his inner left forearm in permanent Magic Marker. “Permanent means it’ll be there forever,” he’d pointed out.
    How many times had she explained it all to J.J.? What they’d shared had been fun and wonderful, but it wasn’t meant to last. She had no intention of staying in some small town in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t the life she planned for herself. It might have been good enough for J.J., but not for her, and there was no way she was hitching her fortunes to a small-town boy with small-town dreams, a boy who couldn’t even decide if he wanted to continue his education.
    His smile had eventually faded.
    Nearly seven years passed before she saw him again, bigger and harder and no longer a boy. He was standing on the doorstep of her first house in Tampa, a shy smile on his face and hope in his eyes.
    The