To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (32 page)

“What sort of company is it?”

“Historically, we were in the business of business.” Gerald gave a wry smile. “My daughter likened it to Richard Gere in
Pretty Woman
before Vivian worked her magic.”

“A chop shop. And now?”

“Now we build.”

“Build what exactly?”

“A little bit of everything. Hotels. Conference centers. And the last few years, we’ve branched into urban renewal and revitalization.”

“And you want…what exactly? A campaign for an upcoming project? A new concept for the overarching company?”

“I want you to come run my marketing department.”

Norah could only blink at him.

“There’s currently a staff of thirty, with the option to expand as the need arises.”

Run an entire marketing department for what had to be a multi-million dollar corporation. Was she dreaming?

“I realize this is coming completely out of left field and you’d need some time to consider it. To research my company. But I think we’d be a great fit for your talents.”

“Mr. Peyton—”

“Gerald, please.”

“Gerald, why me? You’re standing here giving me this amazing offer without even conducting a formal interview.”

“I find that actions speak louder than words. Yours are commendable. You’re driven, intelligent, creative, and you have the kind of moral compass I don’t often see in the business world.”

“Are you aware that I was…dismissed from my last position for that moral compass?” Might as well put that out there.

“That wasn’t how Philip Vargas put it when I called to check up on you.”

Oh God, what did he say?
Norah was afraid to ask. “And yet, regardless of whatever he said, you’re here. Why?”

“The picture he tried to paint wasn’t consistent with my own impressions of you, with your actions down here, or with the opinions of any of those other corporations. It’s obvious to me that a great deal of the success Helios has enjoyed over the last five years is a direct result of your work, and Vargas is only realizing that in the wake of your absence. He tried to pretend otherwise when attempting to woo me to hire Helios, but I recognize a cretin when I see one. I made it clear I was interested in you, not in Helios.”

Norah resisted the urge to do a celebratory fist pump at that. “I imagine Philip didn’t take that well.”

“Not so much. It will probably relieve you to know that we do little business in Chicago. Our main offices are based in Denver, with satellites in New York, Atlanta, and London.”

“London?”

“I do a fair bit of business in Europe.” He began walking again. “Now, I’m not sure what your salary was at your prior position, but I’m certain we could come to an agreement.” He named a ballpark starting salary that had her eyebrows winging up. “I realize there are things you would want to tie up here, so start date is flexible, based on your schedule, and we’d cover relocation expenses.”

Relocation.

And just like that, the surreality of the conversation faded and the happy little dream bubble that had been building around her popped.

“Thank you. Not only for the job offer but for your obvious faith in me and my capabilities. Not many people would look past what Philip said. I’m beyond flattered.” What else could she be when someone offered her dream job on a platter?

His blue eyes sharpened. “But?”

“But, I’m committed to saying here, to building something on the foundation I started.” And somewhere, her father was doing the live person’s version of spinning in his grave.

“With the town or with the guy?”

“I fell in love with them both.” Norah looked around at the bright new face of downtown Wishful. “I have a vision for what this place could be.”

Looking intrigued rather than insulted that she’d turned down his generous offer, Gerald angled his head. “Tell me.”

She had no idea of his background, but he couldn’t run an international company without spending sufficient time in cities that he’d experienced everything she hoped to counter. So she outlined it for him, honing in on all her personal reasons for believing that rural tourism could be a success here. As she spoke, Norah could see that, unlike Cam and the rest of the City Council, Gerald immediately understood her concept.

“There’s a real market for that. It’s a brilliant way to revitalize this town, if you can pull it off.”

“And there’s the kicker. The rest of them aren’t sold on the idea. Yet. But I’m not done researching and working up a full plan either. Conceptually, the project is still in its infancy.”

“It’ll be a lot of work.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work. And I find that what I’ve done here is considerably more rewarding than anything I did for Helios.”

“So you’re going to stay. Really give up the city life?”

She thought of Cam and the family here, so ready to fight for her. “I’m not leaving anything worth keeping.”

Gerald’s smile was sad. “I hope that works out better for you than it did for me.”

Norah wondered if he was talking about the girl he’d loved and lost but didn’t think she had a right to ask.

They’d stopped in front of a sleek, black BMW. “This is me.”

“Thank you for coming down and for the offer.”

Gerald pulled a business card from his coat pocket and handed it over. “The offer stands, should your circumstances change.”

He clearly had more faith in her business capabilities than in the love side of this equation.

Pocketing the card, she bid Gerald farewell. As he drove away, Norah waited for the panic, the second guessing of her impulsive decision. But she felt only a rock-steady certainty that this was where she belonged.

Grinning to herself, she headed for her car. She’d go find Cam and apologize for being distant the last couple of days. Maybe they could go out to Tosca for dinner to celebrate. Because she was going to stay. Really and truly. Better yet, maybe they could get take out from Tosca and celebrate at home.

Her phone rang. She was still smiling when she dug it out and answered.

“Oh thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you for two weeks.”

Her brain took a few moments to shift gears. “Cecily?”

“I was going to email, but I realized I didn’t have your personal email, and your company email was already blitzed from the system, and—”

Instinctively wanting to soothe the panic, Norah interrupted her former intern. “Cecily, slow down. Take a breath.”

“I’ve been calling, but you haven’t answered. I couldn’t even get voicemail!”

Norah realized she’d never unblocked the Chicago area codes. Too late she wondered if Philip had taken any of his frustrations out on her staff. “You’ve got me now. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you so you could do damage control.”

A sick feeling began to brew in the pit of her stomach. “Damage control for what?”

“For Philip. He blackballed you.”

~*~

The loft was empty when Cam got home. Hush raced inside, making a beeline for the back, then coming back looking confused when she didn’t find Norah hiding in the bathroom.

“I know, girl. I miss her, too.”

Since the Council decision, Norah had withdrawn into a funk. Cam was working hard not to take the distance personally. Miranda assured him she was just licking her wounds. He was willing to bet Norah had spent at least twenty-four hours afterward wracking her brain for something else to do, some last stand. Given the email she’d sent out to the coalition, she hadn’t found it. And that had just led to more silence. The little voice that nudged at him, wondering if she had regrets, if she was going to run, had been silenced by a lot of hard, sweaty labor.

It hurt him that she was so hard on herself. How the hell did anybody make it this far through life without having failed at something? Without being able to accept that sometimes your best wasn’t good enough, and it wasn’t the end of the world? And it wasn’t just a matter of perception on Norah’s part. Her track record was irrefutable. She’d more than earned the nickname he’d initially given her in jest.

No amount of logic on his part was going to make her believe she hadn’t failed. So Cam figured some redirection was in order. He wanted to focus on the positive to come out of this whole mess—Norah was here. She was staying. And he wanted to take a step forward with their relationship now that every waking second wasn’t full of GrandGoods. At least it shouldn’t be.

But what step?

For all that he thought they were on the same page, Cam didn’t want to scare her off by pushing too far, too fast. It was hard, so hard, to hang on to his patience since she’d finally admitted she wanted to stay and he began to let himself think of their future. After so many years of waiting for her, he was eager to get started.

She already had a key to his place. That had just been expedience. She’d needed workspace and it was easier to trade off Hush duty. Cam loved having her in his space, loved seeing her dainty girl shoes lined up neatly next to his work boots, loved, too, the myriad of little reminders that she was in his life—like her pens and the favorite wine he kept stocked just for her.

Would asking her to move in scare her off? Would she recognize what he was really saying?

Norah, I love you.

She had to know. It was in every look, every action, every touch. But he hadn’t given her the words. Maybe he should just start with that, see where they took him.

As if conjured by his thoughts, she popped up on the caller ID.

“Hey Wonder Woman. I was just thinking about you. Ready to come out of your cave?”

In the beat of hesitation before she answered, Cam felt the tension reach out and grab him by the throat.

“Hey.” Her voice was hoarse. As if she’d been talking for hours. Or crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“I got a call today from my intern—former intern—at Helios.”

No. Oh no. Surely,
surely
they hadn’t called to win her back.

“It seems that despite my complete and total absence from Chicago and the entire professional marketing scene, despite the fact that I said nothing about the ethics violations Pierce engaged in to anyone outside your family and mine, Philip decided to hedge his bets and started a smear campaign against me. Two weeks ago. Which I knew nothing about because I completely unplugged from my professional life and have been hiding out in Mississippi. Two weeks, Cam, for all these vicious rumors to circulate without rebuttal or challenge.”

Shit. He didn’t know what to say. “How bad?”

“Bad. As in my entire professional reputation hangs in the balance bad. As in, I’m going to sue his ass for libel and slander and whatever else my attorney can come up with bad.”

“Jesus.” Cam scrubbed a hand over his face. Like she hadn’t had enough to cope with. “Look, come over, or I’ll come over there and we’ll talk through this. Figure out what to do next.”

There was another beat of silence.

“I’m already halfway back to Chicago.”

Which meant she’d been gone for more than half the day and she’d only just now called him. Cam absorbed that. Her professional life was falling apart, and she hadn’t looped him in on this until now. She’d gotten in her car and fucking
left town
without a word to him that she was going.

What else wasn’t she saying?

He held on to his temper. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have gone with you.”

“I didn’t even think to tell you. I was just so
angry
, I had to act.”

They were supposed to be in a relationship and she didn’t think to tell him about this huge thing that happened in her life. Didn’t come to him for comfort. Didn’t come to him for anything.

The silence between them stretched, grew gawky and strange.

“I’ve been on the phone with my attorney and various other people, trying to find out the extent of the damage.”

And this is where he fell in her priority list. Dead last. Or damned close to it.

“When will you be back?” Because they sure as shit needed to talk about this, and he wasn’t going to do it from five states away.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how long it will take to straighten all this out. But I have to see this through. My professional reputation is all I have left.”

She had him, but clearly she didn’t count that on her list.

“I should know more after I meet with my attorney tomorrow. I’ll call you after.”

“Yeah, okay. Drive safe.”

He hung up and sat in silence, the phone all but crushed in his hand. A neat stack of her legal pads and multi-colored Post-it notes were arranged on the coffee table in front of him. The throw she’d adopted because he kept it frigid during the winter lay abandoned in the armchair, as if she’d just gotten up to pour a cup of coffee. Signs of her were everywhere. And yet after that three minute conversation, his house felt empty.

Hush, sensing his mood, laid her head on his knee and whined. Cam curled his fingers in her ruff and bent to press his brow to hers.