To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (33 page)

“Looks like we’re on our own for a while, girl.”

Hush whined again.

Cam sat up. “You know what? Screw this.”

She followed him as he stalked back to his room and began to pack a bag. “We’re going for a drive.”

Chapter 19

“Welcome to Starbucks. What can I get you?”

Norah looked at the barista who’d served her coffee almost every day of her last two years at Helios and waited a few moments for recognition to click. She tried a smile, “I guess it’s been a while, hasn’t it, Amos?”

Other than a faint twitch of his pierced eyebrow, his expression didn’t change. He didn’t remember her. Didn’t even make an effort to fake it.

She thought of Cassie and the Daily Grind and felt a wave of brutal homesickness for Wishful wash over her. That made her think of Cam and wonder how long he was going to stay mad at her for bolting.

Amos cleared his throat.

“Sorry. I’ll have a venti Veranda blend.” Still rattled from the meeting with her attorney, she added a cheese danish. She took both to a table for two and sat, back to the door. Probably she wouldn’t run into anyone from Helios while she was here, except for the one person she was expecting, but she didn’t exactly want to advertise her presence.

Her professional life was rapidly descending into the fifth level of hell. Marcus was filing the suit today, but he’d cautioned that she shouldn’t get her hopes up. Evidence was going to be hard to come by, as Norah had absolutely had access to all the project materials, and proving she hadn’t done what Philip accused her of was going to be very difficult. She needed to work out a plan for damage control, but she wasn’t sure how much could actually be done after two whole weeks of no response. Several of her professional contacts outside the firm wouldn’t even return her calls. And that left her with very grave concerns about her future employability.

In need of a distraction, and wondering exactly what it was she’d turned down flat, she pulled out her laptop and began a search on Peyton Consolidated. Ten minutes into the search, she’d forgotten her pastry. Half an hour more, the last inch of her coffee had gone cold.

Gerald Peyton had built himself a juggernaut of a company. Its estimated value was over a billion dollars and growing. Company stock was a steady performer, even in the sluggish and unpredictable market. PC was the name behind a very solid and respected segment of the hospitality industry. But it was the past five years she was most interested in. He’d told her they’d made a name for themselves in urban renewal. She didn’t find much directly through the company itself, but she found plenty of press around the country, all of it positive. Peyton was the real deal, and his company was, by all appearances, a force for good. That had the kernel of an idea starting to tremble in her brain.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Norah looked up from her computer screen to see Cecily sliding into the chair on the opposite side of the table. She mustered up a smile. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

Unwinding a chunky heather gray scarf, Cecily shook back her dark hair. “It took me a little longer than expected to slip away. Pierce is overloaded since you left. The guy they brought in to replace you is an idiot, and between the two of them, I’m not sure they can find their own asses without a map and a flashlight. So they’ve been relying on me a lot.”

“They haven’t been taking advantage of you, have they? Not making your life more difficult because I’m gone?”

“Apart from more work, no.”

Well, that was one tiny relief. “What about Christoff?” Her irascible PA would likely as not pop off and get himself in trouble on her behalf.

“Pretty sure he’s plotting someone’s doom. I know for sure there’s a voodoo doll in his desk, but he’s hanging on. Mouthing off to anybody who has the nerve to bad-mouth you.”

Norah grimaced. “Have there been many?”

“Among those who actually worked with you? No. The lower echelons full of the jealous…some. A lot of them don’t want to believe you got where you did by sheer hard work and brilliance.”

“There was always a segment that assumed I slept my way to the top. A rumor not improved by the fact that I actually dated Pierce. But whatever. I’m not concerned about that. What’s the office climate like?”

“Tense. I don’t think they realized how much you did until you weren’t there to do it. So they’ve been scrambling to reassign accounts. Several of yours walked when they found out you were no longer there.”

That was gratifying. She hoped Helios ultimately lost all the clients she’d helped reel in.

“Well, it isn’t going to get any less tense. My attorney is filing a suit for defamation of character today. I’m not sure how quickly Philip will get served, so brace yourself.”

“What can I do to help?”

“You’ve already done plenty just letting me know all this was going on and getting us copies of the emails that went out. I don’t want you risking your job on my account.”

Cecily scowled. “They’re assholes and they’re wrong. I know you didn’t do what they’re claiming.”

“I appreciate the faith.”

“What on earth have you been
doing
the last few months?”

“I’ve been in Mississippi. I don’t think you ever got to meet Miranda, but you certainly heard me talk about her.”

“No I never met her, but I remember her hunky brother.”

That wrangled a grin from Norah’s lips. “Mitch would be delighted to hear it.”

“So you’ve been visiting all this time?”

“Yes and no. I only planned to be there for a week. But I ended up getting involved in local affairs. Miranda’s cousin Cam is on the City Council in Wishful, and I helped him start a local coalition against the big box store that wants to build in town. So I’ve actually been working my ass off with that.”

Cecily studied her with a quirk to her lips. “And having something of a local affair while you’re at it?”

Norah’s cheeks heated. “Am I wearing a sign?”

“You have The Look.”

“What look is that?”

“The sort of stupefied, punch drunk, oh my God I met The One and I’m happy look.”

“You got all that despite the fact that I’m flipping out over this lawsuit?”

“Yep.” Cecily grinned. “Looks good on you. So is it this Cam guy? Miranda’s cousin?”

“Yeah.” Despite the rocky spot they’d hit, Norah’s conviction in that remained unshaken.

“And is Cam as hunky as Mitch?”

“He is.”

“Do they have any
other
cousins who are single? Lord knows I haven’t been having any luck in this city.”

“As a matter of fact, there’s one more unattached cousin who’s only a couple years older than you. He owns a bookstore and has horn-rimmed reading glasses.”

Cecily sighed. “Young, financially solvent. And I do have a soft spot for horn-rims. Maybe I should get myself down to Mississippi.”

“I promise you an introduction if you come.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” She nodded to the laptop. “So this anti-big box store campaign. Is that what you’re working on?”

“Not exactly. Things on that front haven’t turned out all that well.” She filled Cecily in on the coalition and the latest blow to the cause. “But all that work ended up having an unexpected consequence.”

“What kind of consequence?”

“A job offer.” Needing to confide in someone, she settled in and told Cecily about Peyton Consolidated.

“Peyton Consolidated? Seriously? That has to be it.”

“That has to be what?”

“Philip’s had the new guy and half the firm working on a campaign to woo the CEO. He’s made at least three tries that I know of, and the guy keeps saying no. If Philip knows the guy is turning him down in hopes of hiring you, I bet that’s why he’s going to the mat to ruin you.”

“Whether I take the job or not, Gerald isn’t going to hire Helios. He told me so outright. But if this is all about loss of business for the firm, then Philip isn’t going to just back off. He’s not going to stop until my reputation is completely destroyed.”

~*~

The black sedan cut in front of Cam close enough it should’ve shaved the front bumper off his truck. Cam slammed on his brakes, laid on the horn, and swore. And, of course, he missed getting through the light. Hush howled her disapproval from the back seat. She’d been a trooper through the all-night drive. Of course, she’d been able to sleep. He’d been fueling himself with truck stop coffee and sugar, and an all too brief three-hour nap at a rest stop somewhere in southern Illinois because the highway was starting to blur and he didn’t figure Norah would appreciate him knocking on her door at three in the morning. By now, both he and his dog wanted out of the truck.

He’d expected to show up at Norah’s apartment with coffee and breakfast and get to the bottom of things. But she’d already been gone by seven-thirty, and he’d been forced to turn on the friend finder app to track her phone. By the time he made it into the business district almost two hours later, she was on the move again, this time to the north side of the city.

Why in God’s name anybody would ever want to live in a place like this, he couldn’t fathom. You couldn’t get from one side to the other in anything resembling a reasonable span of time, as evidenced by the fact that he’d been chasing Norah all over the damned city and just missing her. There was no rush hour. It was just rush rush rush, all the time, bumper to bumper cars, shoulder to shoulder people. Between the excessive caffeine and sugar, the lack of sleep, and all the freaking people, Cam felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin.

He could’ve just called Norah and asked her to stay put, but he wanted to see her face when he showed up in her city. Plus, he didn’t want to interrupt whatever she had going on in case one or more of these stops were meetings with her attorney. She’d worked so incredibly hard for her reputation. Having it maligned like this…she had to be losing her mind. So yeah, on the drive he’d come to terms with the fact that she hadn’t been acting rationally when she left. Mostly.

By now he was exhausted. He just wanted to find her and hold her until everything was okay again. Followed by a nice, solid eighteen hours of sleep. Too late, he wondered if her apartment building allowed dogs.

Miracle of miracles, Norah’s dot was still stationary by the time Cam made it back across town to the business district. She hadn’t moved by the time he found parking. Not knowing quite where he was headed, he left Hush in the truck and left it running. Anybody considering a carjacking would be deterred by the hundred pounds of wolf-like teeth and claws.

“I’ll make this quick as I can, girl. Then I swear, we’ll find you a dog park so you can get some exercise.”

Hush replied in her sing-song talk, as if wishing him luck. He ruffled her ears and set out at a brisk walk, his shoulders hunched. His flannel-lined Carhartt coat wasn’t enough to protect against the ice-edged wind coming off Lake Michigan. He wished desperately for gloves. If this was what Norah was used to, no wonder she’d mocked what they called cold back home.

The dot turned out to be Starbucks. Cam was so chilled by the time he reached it, he was actually glad to see even chain coffee. The place was packed when he stepped inside. A double line snaked back from the counter, past the door where he stood, so he edged aside to get out of the way and began to scan the room for Norah. Voices chattered around him, clipped and rapid, almost like typewriter speech. What the hell was their hurry?

His own urgency seemed to hit slow-mo and melt away as he finally caught sight of Norah just past the station with the cream and sugar. Her back was to him, but he knew that fall of hair, that slope of shoulder. The sight of her neat stack of notepads and a row of colored pens had him smiling despite the bone-deep weariness. She sat with another woman, slightly younger. The intern?

Cam made his way over, hampered by the line of people waiting to doctor their coffee. Too tired to be pushy, he just waited, edging closer as he could, until he could hear her talking. God it was good to hear her voice.

“I’m nothing but impressed with what Peyton Consolidated has accomplished. It’s an incredible opportunity.”

“I’ll say. Particularly in light of the lawsuit. People have long memories for scandal. That’d be less likely to touch you out in Denver. So to have the chance at a position like that with a billion dollar corporation… Are you going to take it?”

“It’s essentially my dream job on a platter. I’d be a fool not to.”

Cam felt her words like a physical blow. Every drop of pleasure at seeing her after his long trip, evaporated. The blood in his ears began to roar, drowning out whatever Norah’s companion replied.

It’s my dream job on a platter. I’d be a fool not to take it.

Everything thing they’d been through. Everything she’d told him. Everything she’d promised. And in the end, she was choosing the job over him. Like her mother. Like Melody. Like his father.

She tried to warn you,
he thought.
Everybody tried to warn you that this wouldn’t work. But you just couldn’t leave it alone. Because you’re some kind of goddamned masochist.