Here’s a first scene where Aimee Little finds out about Kevin Fairchild’s surprising plan to purchase the Maplewood Herald. The tone is heartfelt with a little humor, highlighting Aimee’s complicated past with the paper, Kevin’s earnest but awkward delivery, and a classic Kain reaction.
Title: The Roast and the Reveal
Scene: AKA Art Café, midmorning, Maplewood
The espresso machine hissed like a disgruntled cat as Aimee Little stirred a honey-laced chai latte. She wasn’t sure if it was the early hour, the nerves, or the café’s new summer cinnamon blend that had her stomach jittering.
She slid into her usual corner booth by the vintage poetry wall—half-ripped typewriter pages pasted under glass, smelling faintly of dust and hope. She hadn’t expected him to ask for a coffee chat.
Kevin Fairchild.
Former spy. Christmas enthusiast. Local enigma. Wearing a charcoal blazer over a faded graphic tee that read “Don’t Make Me Use My Sleigh Voice.”
“You came,” he said, setting down his own drink. No foam. Just black coffee. Military dark.
“I thought you were going to cancel again,” Aimee replied, eyebrows raised.
“I nearly did,” Kevin admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’m learning not to run. Or hide. At least not in public.”
Aimee smirked. “Bold strategy for someone who used to professionally vanish.”
Kevin leaned in, eyes earnest. “I wanted to tell you something first. Before it gets out.”
“That’s never a comforting sentence,” she muttered.
He hesitated, then said it quickly—like ripping off a Band-Aid.
“I’m buying the Maplewood Herald.”
Aimee blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
He pushed a folder toward her. “Legacy has a community initiative. The Herald’s been losing relevance. Barely covers local events unless someone yells about potholes or pancake breakfasts. We want to restore it. Local voices. Heart stories. Real reporting. Think... less doomscroll, more front porch conversations.”
“You’re serious?”
“I’ve already made an offer,” Kevin said. “Pending approval. I wanted to ask if you’d... consider being involved.”
“With the paper I used to work for? The one that gutted its editorial board and replaced us with syndicated clickbait?”
He nodded solemnly. “That one.”
Aimee gave a stunned laugh. “You really are a spy. That’s an emotional ambush if I’ve ever seen one.”
Just then, the café bell jingled. Kain Newcastle strolled in, eyes narrowed the second he spotted them. “Did someone say ambush?”
“Not now, Kain,” Aimee said.
Kain slid into the booth beside her anyway. “Is Kevin trying to buy the town again?”
“I’m trying to serve the town,” Kevin corrected.
“With what, a newspaper and a sleigh?” Kain crossed his arms. “I thought you were retired from cloak and dagger. This feels like... business casual meddling.”
Kevin chuckled. “Call it community investment.”
Kain looked to Aimee. “You buying this?”
“I’m... confused,” Aimee admitted. “But maybe a little intrigued?”
Kevin’s eyes softened. “You helped me see what this town really is, Aimee. And I think it’s worth telling better stories. Hopeful ones. True ones. Not just headlines—heartlines.”
Aimee stared at him a long moment, then sipped her latte slowly.
“Okay, Mr. Sleigh Voice. I’ll think about it. But if I find one article titled ‘Top Ten Maple Syrup Hacks’, I’m out.”
Kevin grinned. “Deal.”
Kain shook his head and muttered, “This town’s going to be so weird by Christmas.”
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