A Man of Influence by Melinda Curtis Page A

emotion had been hiding behind the black bakery apron. “Your columns slant one way—one way!” She jabbed her finger at him, stopping just short of poking his shoulder. “You put people down. Is that why you were fired?”
    The F -word hit him below the belt and shook his ego at knee level. Nowhere had it been reported he’d been let go. The terms of his leaving were part of his termination contract. Sure, some in the press had speculated he needed time to grieve. But no one had guessed the truth until Tracy. “I still own nearly half the company.” He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice.
    His anger didn’t stop her from punching back, saying baldly, “Ownership didn’t stop them from firing you.”
    There was a truth for him. “Apparently, my dad wanted to take the Lampoon in a different direction. My services no longer fit what they were looking for.” He hadn’t said it out loud before. The words—though spoken quietly—seemed to ricochet between them like a flat rock bouncing across a smooth river.
    â€œAhh.” Tracy glanced downstream. “You were phased out.”
    â€œI’m guessing from your tone you’ve experienced this.”
    Her sharp nod confirmed it.
    â€œBut I bet you weren’t downsized by your father from the grave.” If he’d known what Dad had up his hospital gown, he would’ve walked away six months ago when the old man had gone completely on life support.
    No. The thought sickened him. That was hurt talking. Chad had loved his father.
    Despite that love being wasted on a man with no heart, he wouldn’t have changed anything he’d done for him in the last year. But he would’ve been better prepared for betrayal. “It’s why I’m starting my own magazine. And Harmony Valley is the perfect launch vehicle.” He hoped.
    She’d retreated metaphorically when he’d told her about dear old dad phasing him out, but at the mention of the town she bounced back for another round. “Harmony Valley isn’t what you write about. No nightclub. No spa. No chichi hangouts.”
    â€œSo far, I love that it’s different.” Charm, checkers, a cast of personalities. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced there was more than enough to work with here. He might write more than one column.
    Tracy frowned at him and half glanced over her shoulder toward downtown, as if thinking about making a break for it.
    He didn’t want her to go. “You want to protect the town from me? Convince me it doesn’t deserve a send-up.”
    She frowned the way she did everything else—wholeheartedly. Her shoulders rolled toward him, her hands fluttered, her eyes narrowed. He realized why he liked watching her. Every expression was a full-body experience, as if to make up for her brevity of speech.
    â€œI’m not helping you. Ask Mayor Larry or Agnes.”
    He shook his head, not calling her out on what he suspected was the real reason she didn’t want to convince him—she’d have to talk—because that was his ace in the hole. With her speech challenges, she’d never win a verbal argument with him. And if that line of thinking wasn’t worthy of an entrepreneur trying to claw his way to the top, Chad didn’t know what was. “The mayor wants to give me the dog and pony show.”
    â€œWhat makes you think...” Her gaze collided with his, simultaneously suspicious and self-conscious. “I won’t?”
    Earlier in their conversation, she’d been more focused on the battle and less on her vocabulary. Now she was very much aware of this war of words and she was back to stumbling.
    â€œTracy.” He captured one of her hands the way his father used to capture his mother’s hand when he wanted her complete attention. “You’re the only one in town who read my columns. You and I are from the same