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a lot this weekend, and I’ve decided that this
     situation doesn’t sit well with me,” he said, making my stomach flutter with hope.
     Was I getting the promotion? Was Vaughn fired? Could Kelsey and I launch him out the
     front door with a catapult? “Josh, I have no problem with you or your work. Your portfolio
     is very impressive. You bring a fresh perspective and a stronger design background
     to the table. But as much as I appreciate the commissioner’s opinion, I don’t like
     being routed in my own office. I’m not retired yet and I don’t appreciate my decisions
     being remade for me. Sadie has done some phenomenal work in this office and is ready
     to take on more responsibility. The staff looks up to her and she’s more familiar
     with the concerns of the state.
    “So, I’ve spent most of the morning in discussions with Commissioner Bidwell and our
     decision is . . . neither of you will be serving as marketing director. For right
     now, both of you are considered interim assistant directors of marketing.”
    Judging from the way he ground his teeth together, Josh hadn’t seen this coming, either.
     For a moment, it felt like we were in the same boat—a boat adrift on a sea of “What
     the hell?” Kelsey began scribbling furiously in her little notebook, making new-business-cards-and-stationery
     to-do lists now that Vaughn had a new title—again—as well as writing down all of the
     various moving-in chores she needed to complete. She gripped the ballpoint pen so
     fiercely it snapped, staining her sleeve with black ink. Grabbing a new pen, she continued
     to scribble around the giant splotch on her pad.
    Kelsey taking out her frustrations on office supplies was not a good sign.
    Ray continued, “You will each develop a comprehensive campaign for a statewide tourism
     promotion to run through the next year. Storyboards, posters, and other materials
     explaining your concept will be put on display at the state fair in August. At the
     fair, we will ask visitors which approach they prefer and the campaign with the most
     positive responses wins. The winner gets the promotion and we will use his or her
     campaign. Second place means staying in the assistant director position, as long as
     you’re still interested in working with us.”
    A second chance. They were giving me another chance to prove myself! I could put together
     another campaign, one just as good as the Derby plan. I restrained myself from hopping
     up and kissing Ray’s leathery cheeks, but it was a near thing. The normally smirking
     Mr. Vaughn barely reacted. I expected him to complain about the loss of status, the
     uncertainty of getting a job he thought he already had. He merely shrugged. “Sounds
     fair.”
    My eyes narrowed at him. There was no way he was okay with this. He’d moved all the
     way from Atlanta to accept this job. During the weekend wallow, I’d googled the hell
     out of Josh Vaughn. He popped up in the Society pages like an image-obsessed Energizer
     Bunny. Junior partner with a fancy marketing firm. Address in a tony district of Atlanta.
     A pretty girlfriend from one of the wealthier families in town. Why would he walk
     away from that, and then smile when the job he was promised evaporated out from under
     him?
    What the hell was he up to?
    I did not trust him, even less so when he politely asked me to explain the concept
     of every campaign I’d worked on in recent memory to help him “acclimate.” For the
     next two hours, we slogged through each and every promotion and every resulting news
     story—all of which were broadcast against the wall as a PowerPoint presentation of
     my implied ineptitude.
    My chief crime, in his opinion, was my fascination for the, quote, “weird stuff,”
     which made Kelsey cover her snickers with fake coughs. “You devoted two radio spots
     and a mailing to promoting the Hillbilly Days festival. You devoted an entire page
     in the Visitors’ Guide to the ghosts