To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (17 page)

Cam thought about what they must look like, a young couple ready to take the next step in life and wanting new digs to go with it. Since that was exactly the direction he’d been headed in when she broke things off, the question put a strain on his already volatile mood. “Ah, no sir. We’re here on another matter entirely. Are you aware that the city has been approached with a proposal by GrandGoods?”

“I heard rumblings about something. Didn’t know the particulars.”

Norah picked up the thread. “Provided they pass the approval process, they intend to build a 150,000 square foot store in Wishful.”

Burt straightened a little in his chair, his eyes sharpening. “Go on.”

She laid it out for him, explaining the proposal and the problems such a project would present for the town. “As a local business owner, I’m sure you can appreciate the importance of preserving the character of Wishful and preventing the uncontrolled urban sprawl that would inevitably follow should GrandGoods be allowed to go ahead with their project. That’s why we’d like to invite you to come to the citizens’ coalition meeting next week, to be a part of the community’s voice in letting the local policy-makers know that this isn’t the direction Wishful should go.”

“No.”

Cam caught the momentary stunned expression on Norah’s face before she recovered enough to reply. “I can understand how that might be your instinctive response, but surely it would be better to reserve your final decision until after you’ve attended the meeting, heard what others have to say.”

“Young lady, I’m not going to join your coalition. I will, in fact, be first in line to submit a bid for the GrandGoods contract. I support the growth of commercial real estate such a store would bring to town.”

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned about the negative impact—”

Burt broke in. “Let me tell you about negative impact. I built this business from the ground up. Over the last twenty-five years, I’ve expanded my operations, my crew. And with the tanking economy, do you know how many good people I’ve had to let go? Twelve. Not because they did shoddy work or anything wrong but simply because we don’t have the level of work we need to pay them. I’ve had to cut back the hours on dozens more.”

Cam felt his gut clench, thinking again of Roy McKennon’s desperation and wounded pride over the loss of his ability to provide for his family. Here was more of the same.

“I want to hire those men back. I want to protect the jobs of the ones I still have. I have to look out for my employees, for their families. They depend on me for their livelihood, so from my perspective, supporting GrandGoods is the
only
decision.”

It made sense. Here was that rock and a hard place his mother had warned him about. More people who’d be lost if they couldn’t find work. More of the soul of his town destroyed by a bad economy.

“Do you have any idea the kind of security a job like that would give them? You’ll forgive me if I think that’s a helluva lot more important than some kind of misplaced nostalgia for how this town used to be.”

When Norah looked as if she might try some other tack, Cam sat forward. “We absolutely appreciate your position, Burt. Thanks for hearing us out. We’ll let you get back to your day.”

Cam recognized the mutinous expression in Norah’s eyes as he said their goodbyes and herded her toward the door, but she kept her mouth shut until they were shut inside his truck again.

“What the hell was that?”

“A tactical retreat. You weren’t going to change his mind.”

“You don’t know that. You didn’t even let me try to counter his position.”

“No. Because we shouldn’t try to counter his position, Norah. Absolutely nothing we can say or do is going to provide the kind of work opportunities he needs to be able to offer his employees. He’s right. From his standpoint, GrandGoods and everything that comes with it is exactly what his business needs.”

Norah exhaled long and slow. “Okay, fair point. He’s not the right target audience for this message. We aren’t going to convince everybody, and that’s okay.”

“Is it? Is it really okay to the twenty percent of our population who are unemployed? What we’re doing isn’t helping them. Do we even have the right to be pushing to stop this?”

She laid a hand on his arm. “No decision is going to make everyone happy.”

He looked down at her fingers, slim and delicate. “Yeah, you specialize in those, don’t you.”

When she pulled her hand away, he bit back a curse. He knew this wasn’t easy on her either, could see the strain she was under. But, of course, she didn’t actually respond to his jab. The matter was already settled in her mind.

“You have to look at the bigger picture, at the long-term impacts, to determine what’s best for the majority.”

Were they still talking about the town?

“Seems like looking out for the majority still means the minority gets shit on.”

“Campbell, you can’t save everybody. Not all at once. Just because what we’re trying to do isn’t the right thing for some people doesn’t mean that we’re wrong or that we should stop. The alternative means that the minority gets bigger. You’re maybe too close to this. That minority is personal for you, people you know, people you care about. And I know it hurts you that you can’t fix it for them because that’s how you’re built. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But I think, in this case, it’s making this whole situation harder on you than it might otherwise be.”

He could see her point, but that did nothing to assuage the guilt that had dogged him since his encounter with April and Roy McKennon.

“Maybe I should do the rest on my own.”

He wanted to let her. To just walk away from the torture of having her right there and yet completely out of reach. But she’d been right about one thing. This was about more than them. If she was going to go, then he had to at least save the town she was leaving behind.

“No. I said I’d help with this part. And you’re right, we can’t please everybody. It’s just…hard coming up against completely reasonable opposition.”

“I know.” She shoved the legal pad into her briefcase. “Let’s take a break and get some lunch before we pick back up with the rest of the list. I bet Mama Pearl has a pie that’s a cure-all for personal guilt crises.”

Because he knew an olive branch when he heard one, Cam forced a smile. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Chapter 10

Norah eyed the vibrating phone like a pit viper as it danced across Miranda’s coffee table. Her father. For the sixth time in the last hour. No voicemails.

He knew.

Stop being a coward
, she ordered herself.
Get it over with.

The phone felt heavy in her sweaty hand. “Dad.”

“What the hell is this about you being
fired?
”

She winced and pulled the phone away from her ear as he continued.

“What the hell is going on, Norah? Where have you been?”

Her head began to throb. “If you’ll stop yelling for five minutes, I’ll tell you.” Norah slid off the sofa to pace and rub at her temples. She gave her father a bare bones account of the events that led to her termination. With every step, every word, her shoulders tightened.

“No, sir, I’m not legally liable for anything. Neither I nor Helios broke any official laws.”

“Do you have copies of all the legal paperwork between Hugo’s and the city?”

Because, of course, her word on the stand wasn’t good enough. She was supposed to produce evidence. “Why would I? We didn’t have that kind of role in the project. We didn’t make any decisions, sign any documents short of the standard contracts we sign with all clients, outlining our scope of work.” She wrapped one arm tight around her middle and did an about face, heading toward the dining room. “Mine was a moral objection to the actions of the firm, not an actual legal issue.”

“Do you know what this could do to your career?”

I should hang up.
But years of conditioned behavior had her staying on the line, continuing to defend her decisions in the hope that one day she’d argue well enough that he’d see her side—maybe even offer approval. But today wasn’t going to be that day. She made another circuit, living room to dining room and back before stopping to drop her head back against the nearest wall as she listened to what he imagined was counsel but came across more like orders.

God, she wanted Cam. Wanted his support, his level head, his touch. But that wasn’t an option. So she steeled her spine as she’d done for the last twenty years. “With all due respect, Dad, I’ll handle it. I know this was never the career you or Mom would’ve picked for me, but that’s not the point. It’s what I chose.”

“It was a poor decision.”

And you never get tired of reminding me of that.
“Yes, you both made it quite clear that you didn’t agree with that decision. That doesn’t make what I do have less value.”

“I’m really disappointed in you, Norah. You have so much potential and you continue to waste it, wasting all the advantages your mother and I worked to give you. I really expected better of you.”

She blanched, staying silent as she absorbed that blow. When she answered, her voice was small and oh so tired. “You’re entitled to your opinion, Dad, just like I’m entitled to mine. Whatever I do next will still be what I choose. I’m not going to suddenly turn around and go back to law or medical school because it’s what
you
want. Now, you’ve been informed. Go ahead and call Mom and share your mutual disappointment in me. I’ve got work to do.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Norah hung up. Then she turned her phone completely off and crossed to lay it on the coffee table with meticulous care, before she could give in to the impulse to hurl it against the wall.

Damn him. Damn him and all his expectations and guilt trips and goddamned cross examinations. It’s my life.

And it was a mess. She’d stubbornly put off dealing with it in the name of saving Wishful. But if she was to have any kind of career to go back to when the campaign was done, she had to get off her ass and start taking steps to straighten things out.

Even the idea of it left her feeling hollow and exhausted. But that was pretty par for the course these days.

The sound of the doorbell had her groaning. Company was the last thing she wanted. But it might be about the campaign. So many balls were up in the air, she really couldn’t afford to leave her phone off for long.

Schooling her features into an expression of polite welcome, Norah opened the door.

Piper, bounced inside. “This is a kidnapping!”

Norah stared at the very short skirt and pink straw cowboy hat her friend was sporting. “I’m sorry, what?”

“We failed to adhere to our sacred duty upon your arrival and must now rectify that oversight.”

“Which sacred duty is that?”

“The part where we go out dancing and drink to the shriveling of your ex’s dick.” This was stated in a tone of
duh.

“She’s bloodthirsty, our Piper,” Tyler said from the doorway.

It was a sentiment Norah could get behind, even if the object of her ire was a little different. “While I appreciate the thought, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

The coalition meeting had gone well. She’d successfully sold them on a Shop Local campaign and laid the foundation for a grassroots movement. But even with the help of the new coalition chairwoman, Molly Montgomery—who evidently had a membership or officer position in every civic group in town—it meant her workload had quadrupled.

“All work and no play makes Norah a dull girl,” Piper sang.

“All work and no play makes Norah a successful girl.” She returned to her position on the sofa.

“There is more to life than work.”

An ache bloomed in Norah’s chest as she thought of Cam and his life lessons. There’d been no more of them since she broke things off. Not a surprise. And not that there’d been time. They’d both been working their asses off to get this campaign off the ground.

“You might as well give in,” Tyler added. “She doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Norah looked down at her yoga pants and sweatshirt. “I’m hardly dressed for going out. And Miranda will be home from her ER rotation in an hour.”

“She’s meeting us there when she gets off.” Piper stepped over the piles of folders and tugged Norah up. “Come on.”

Norah had no intention of going. She had census data to dig through and city tax records to analyze. Not to mention the website mock-up she wanted to finish before the next coalition meeting. But forty-five minutes later, she was being hustled through the door of the Mudcat Tavern, fully made up and wearing borrowed cowboy boots, as Piper had declared her knee-high English riding boots “too citified for this kind of dancing” and insisted that they did not meet Bitch Boot status. Norah was pretty sure some kind of magic had been involved.

The pretty, older bartender flashed a welcoming smile. “What’ll it be ladies?”

Piper slapped the bar. “Adele, we’re here for the Three Furies. Norah here has been wronged by an idiot man.”