To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (40 page)

“An investor for what?” Uncle Jimmy asked.

“Ask,” Cam said, “and if it is, then take the job.”

The burst of temper was immediate. “If you think I’m just going to walk away from—”

“I’ll go with you.”

It was Norah’s turn to stare. “You hate the city.”

“I love you more.” And God, if he could do nothing else for her, he could do this.

“This is all very romantic and sweet, but anybody want to clue us in on what the hell you’re talking about?” asked Miranda.

Cam jumped in before Norah could minimize it. “She has a job offer from a billion dollar corporation in Denver to come run their marketing department, and she turned it down for me.”

“Whoa,” Mitch said.

“And I don’t intend to reverse that decision. Do you think I don’t know what leaving here would mean for you? I’m not dragging you to the other side of the country away from your family.”

“Norah, be sensible.”

“I am being sensible. You’re being impulsive. I appreciate the motivation behind it, but that’s not the answer. We’ve established the economic climate here is crap. The turn around the last couple of months is a start, but only a start. It’s no state in which to sell a business. And at that point, you have no control over what a new owner of the nursery would do. There’s no guarantee that they’d go to the effort to hire on people like Dewey May to keep him and his family afloat. No guarantee someone wouldn’t just come in and turn the nursery into something else entirely. No guarantee that whoever took over for you as City Councilman wouldn’t work to overturn everything we’ve done here. And every bit of that would eat at you, worse than it already does. That powerlessness of not knowing, or worse, knowing and not being able to do a damned thing about it from more than a thousand miles away, would make you miserable. You need to be here. So do I. I’ll find another way. It’s what I do, remember?”

Frustration simmered at a low boil. Her logic, as always, was undeniable. But there had to be some way he could help fix this. She’d done so much for him, given up so much, and what had he done for her? Chased down some lousy public records?

“How can I make this better for you? I need to do
something.
”

“Help me finish what we started. We’re getting this referendum and we’re going to bury GrandGoods. And then we’re going to turn this town around. And when all of it is over, and no more disasters are hanging around on the horizon, I’m going to fall apart in an absolutely spectacular fashion and count on you to pick up the pieces.” She said it in the same calm, matter-of-fact tone she tended to use when reciting business statistics or weather reports.

He wouldn’t have been surprised to see it penciled in on her calendar.
Have breakdown. 8 AM to 5 PM. Schedule massage for tomorrow.

“In the meantime, I need to work like I need to breathe, so you’ll take me back to get my car and let me take over the loft with a quantity of bulletin boards and office supplies that will make it look like Office Depot dropped a tactical nuke on the place.”

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Okay.”

“What can we do to help?” His mother, as calm and focused as Norah herself.

“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. How long would it take you to set up a town meeting?”

Chapter 23

Please let this be nearly over.
Cam sent up the prayer as he pulled open the door to Edison Hardware and stepped inside to continue the petition tally. It was almost time for lunch, and he’d already been by half of the businesses on his list. Aunt Liz and Uncle Pete were doing the others. Avery had been keeping a running tally as they went, and they were close. So close. If the total tipped over their threshold, they’d be spending the next several hours validating that each one was a registered voter. If they didn’t get the numbers today, they were out of time.

Tyler stood at the counter, her ponytail pulled through the back of the fire engine red YES cap that matched his. She looked up as he came in and one corner of her mouth curved up. “Hey Councilman, Mr. Cleese here wants to know if signing the petition will decrease his chances of getting called up for jury duty, seeing as it’s kind of a civil service.”

“Well now, that’s something to consider. But I reckon you’d have to take that up with Judge Carpenter.” Might as well foist the responsibility for that decision off on somebody else.

Mr. Cleese rubbed the tip of his bulbous nose. “Y’all should check on that. It’d be a real incentive for folks.”

“We’ll take that under advisement. In the meantime, how about you join the ranks of other fine citizens of Wishful and add your name to the petition?”

After some further hemming and hawing and additional suggestions that were completely out of Cam’s power as a city representative, Cleese finally signed the petition.

“Thanks for your support, Mr. Cleese. Here’s your sticker.” Tyler reached out and plastered the
YES: I signed
badge on the old man’s shirt pocket. “You be sure to tell your friends up at Bingo Night.”

Cam peeked over to check the petition numbers and texted the total to Avery.

“I thought about adding a suggestion box,” Tyler said as the door swung shut.

“Been getting a lot of quid pro quo kinda ideas, have we?”

“A fair number. None actually actionable, I don’t think.” She leaned back against the counter and crossed her legs. “How are the numbers looking?”

“Overall good. We picked up eleven at No Sweat. Fifteen more at Brides and Belles. Only six at Sanderson’s. But it’s slowing down to dribs and drabs. Everybody’s reporting the same kind of thing. They keep running into people who’ve already been hit up. I’m not sure how to get beyond that crowd without going door to door.”

Tyler pursed her lips. “I heard you spent a fair chunk of time talking to Rosanna Sanderson this morning.”

Cam sent her a flat stare. “And who exactly is keeping tabs on how long I’m spending in local businesses?”

“You know perfectly well Cassie can see the door to Sanderson’s from The Grind.”

“So? She was on my list, same as you and Cassie and more than a dozen other businesses.”

“Half an hour just seems like a long time to spend checking on six signatures
in a jewelry store
.”

“Any angler knows you’ve gotta put out better bait if you wanna catch bigger fish.”

Tyler grinned at him. “Does that mean there’s a bigger fish to catch?”

“If there was, do you think I’d be dumb enough to confirm it? I’m well aware of the state of gossip in this town. Cassie’s looking for something to scoop Mama Pearl on, and I am not gonna be it.”

“I’m not hearing denials.”

“You’re not hearing squat.” Cam shoved open the door. “I’ll keep you posted about the signature total. As soon as Avery notifies us we’ve got enough, I’ll be back by to pick up the pages for signature verification.”

“I’ll be here. And Cam?”

He paused, looking back at his lifelong friend.

“I’m glad she’s back.”

“So am I.”

Cam made quick stops at Lickety Split and Inglenook before finally working around to Dinner Belles, where Norah had turned a corner booth into an impromptu command center. Against one wall was a markerboard showing the running tally of signatures. Norah herself hunched over a map of the city that showed the individual Council wards, with two others in street team gear. She, too, wore a YES cap, and with the braid in her hair, she looked about eighteen. At least until she started giving out orders like a five star general.

“Mamie, you hit up the senior center. They’re all of a generation where voting actually meant something, so they’re probably registered. They just aren’t necessarily super mobile and coming into town.”

Mamie saluted. “That’s a fabulous idea. Autumn, you should come with me.” She turned back to Norah. “Autumn’s the head librarian. She volunteers at the center once a week. The seniors just love her.”

“Do it. We need every asset we’ve got.”

The pair of them headed for the door, flashing cheerful smiles at Cam on their way out.

Cam joined Norah at her booth. “Where’s your walkie talkie?”

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll make you hunt some down for me. You know Cassie would be all over that.”

Thinking about what else Cassie was all over, Cam shot a quick glance at Mama Pearl. Yep. She was giving him a Look.

Jesus.

As if he’d be stupid enough to buy the ring here where anybody and their brother could see and talk about it. Rosanna had just wanted to tell him about her daughter Rory’s decision to pursue landscape architecture in college and ask about graduate school suggestions. But that didn’t make for good gossip.

“Are those the updated totals?” He nodded to the board behind her.

“Yeah, Avery already copied me on the numbers you sent. We’re two hundred signatures in the hole. I’d like to get at least another hundred for padding, just in case we had a fair chunk of non-registered voters signing.”

He gave her the same update he’d given Tyler. “Every business in the coalition has about maxed out its customer base. We’re running short of places to corner people. Without some kind of captive audience, I’m afraid the only thing we’ve got left is going door to door.”

Norah’s eyes narrowed with speculation. “Captive audience…”

“I wasn’t actually suggesting we hold people hostage.”

“We don’t have to. Circumstance already does.” With quick, efficient moves, she folded the map and shoved it into her bag, along with the rest of her stuff, before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Come on.”

“What about your board?”

“Mama Pearl will keep it updated.” She pushed out onto the sidewalk and hit the ground at what he thought of as city speed. Woman on a mission.

“Where are we going?”

“Sweet Magnolias.”

“Do I get to eat when we get there? Because I think my stomach is trying to devour itself.”

“You can scarf while we work. How long do you have before you have to head back to the nursery?”

“Until about three.”

“We need more people.” She whipped out her phone and made a series of calls, requesting backup at Sweet Magnolias.

Cam shook his head, holding in a chuckle.
Backup.
God he loved this woman. Knowing she’d tell him what was up her sleeve when she was good and ready, he just kept walking.

The bakery smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, with a side of sweet cream butter. Or maybe that was icing. Cam started drooling the moment he walked inside.

On the other side of the counter, Carolanne wore her YES cap backward as she piped pink icing on a cake. “Be with you in a jiff,” she called, not looking up.

Norah peered into the display cases, the wheels clearly turning. Cam wasn’t sure if she was picking out lunch or plotting world domination. These days, it could kinda go either way. There’d been no further updates on the lawsuit, and she’d effectively compartmentalized so that all her focus was on the petition drive.

Carolanne finished the rim of tiny pink roses around the edge of the cake and finally looked up. “Well, hey y’all. Are you here to check my petition sheets? I’m afraid I don’t have too many new signatures.”

“I had something else in mind,” Norah told her. “We need to make up sample trays of everything you’ve got on sale today.”

“We do? Why?”

“We’re turning a negative into a positive. Y’all can’t fix the stoplight, so we’re taking advantage of our semi-captive audience to hand out pastry samples from Sweet Magnolias, along with information about the petition. So that’s advertising for you, getting the word out for us, and linking the whole thing to positive reinforcement with sugar.”

“It certainly
sounds
good.” Carolanne put the bag of icing aside. “I’ll pull together some trays.”

“Are you picky about having people in your space or can I come help?”

“Come on back and wash your hands.”

There wasn’t room behind the counter for a third person, so Cam stood to the side and felt like a useless dolt as the two women spun and cut and made up trays in what seemed like two minutes flat.

“There. Those look amazing.” Norah bit into a piece of scone and moaned. “If this takes off, you should consider baking cute little sample size stuff and doing it on a regular basis.”

“I wish I’d thought of it before.”

Cam snatched a piece of blueberry muffin and popped it into his mouth, pausing for a moment of reverence as the sweet tart flavor melted on his tongue. “So exactly how are we going to do this?”

“Watch and learn, Leonidas.” Norah hefted a tray, plastered on a beauty queen smile that would do Barbie proud, and pushed out the door.

Cam followed, clipboard in hand, as she approached a woman in a minivan at the head of the line waiting at the stoplight. After a moment’s hesitation, the woman rolled down her window.

“Hi! Can I offer you a sample from Sweet Magnolias Bakery? We’ve got blueberry muffins and orange cranberry scones this afternoon.”