To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (29 page)

“You’ve been busy.” He herded the dog toward the treat bucket in the kitchen, peering at some of the stacks on the counter. “You’re looking at unemployment rates for the last three decades? Isn’t that kind of excessive?”

“Not when you’re mapping economic trends and trying to forecast the impact of future actions. It’ll be relevant at the debate and something Dr. Brosnan will be bringing up. She’s hoping to have her preliminary findings for the second economic impact study by then.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Norah set her stack of papers down and crossed over to him.

“Don’t touch me. I’m filthy.”

He smelled of earth and man and good, hard work, something her soft-handed ex had never done. Ignoring his edict, Norah rose to her toes to brush her lips over his, careful to keep from pressing up against him, as he really was covered in dirt. “Welcome home.”

“Give me five minutes to shower, and I’ll show you how much I appreciate you being here to say that.” His hazel eyes glinted with promise.

“Five minutes, then come out here ready to listen. I have a lot to tell you. Maybe there’ll be time after that for you to show your…appreciation.”

With a flash of dimples he disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time he came back in clean jeans and a t-shirt, his hair damp and skin pink from scrubbing, Norah had reconstructed her piles. He poured himself a glass of tea and came to join her on the sofa, evicting Hush.

“Okay, I’m ready to hear your genius solution, Wonder Woman. Lay it out for me.”

Norah almost hated the look of expectant faith on his face. “Wishful is on the verge of bankruptcy. That’s nothing you didn’t already know. It’s symptomatic of a larger economic trend that has been progressing for the last three decades.”

The faint trace of humor in his expression faded. “All true, but that’s rather overstepping the bounds of the problem we’re facing.”

“No, it’s really not. GrandGoods is only a small part of the full problem. Even if they came, they wouldn’t be the answer. They’re simply not big enough, and they’re going to have further detrimental effect on other businesses in the local economy. Plus, whatever short-term gains they may bring wouldn’t be immediate. It would take time to build the store, to stock it and get it open. They alone won’t be enough to reverse the larger economic trend.”

“All of which we’ll bring up at the debate. But how does that fix the problem in the short term?”

“Unfortunately, there is no short-term fix. You can't produce jobs out of thin air, certainly not in this kind of compressed time frame.”

Cam set the empty tea glass aside. “So what are you saying? That it’s hopeless? That we don’t stand a chance of stopping this?”

“I’m saying we have to think bigger than a Band-aid for this situation. If Wishful is going to be saved from economic ruin, you have to realize you’re playing a long-haul game.”

“If you wanted to depress me, you’re doing a damned good job of it.”

Norah curled her hands around his and squeezed. “I wouldn’t bring this up if I didn’t have a plan.”

He eased somewhat at that. “I’m listening.”

“Do you know why I come here? Why I’ve always loved coming here?”

“Miranda. Because we’re your second family.”

She tipped her head to acknowledge the point. “That’s part of it. But I love this town for a whole different set of reasons, reasons I’m not sure you can fully appreciate having never lived in the city. Compared to all the other places I’ve lived since my parents divorced, Mississippi is a whole other world, a whole different way of life. A more…personal way of life.

“I loved Wishful from the first time I came home with Miranda. I love that people smile and nod and speak here. I love that Mama Pearl will dish up a dose of sass to complete strangers, and will remember their order, even when she hasn’t seen them in six months. I love that everybody knows everybody, and that you can’t get away with shit because somebody will tell your mama. I love that people still have moral values here, that they’re generous and open. I love that I haven’t been here in three years, but so many people still know who I am and have been keeping up with me through Miranda. I love the town itself because it’s adorable and charming, but it’s the
people
here who really matter, who make Wishful special.”

Cam smiled. “My mom has said much the same.”

“The culture and way of life here is, as the reporter said, this wonderful little slice of Southern Americana that simply doesn’t exist in urban areas. And
that
is what we need to capitalize on.”

“I don’t understand. How would we do that?”

“By promoting rural tourism.”

He stared at her with abject horror. “You want to turn my town into a tourist attraction?”

“I’m not talking about a theme park, Cam. I’m talking about taking advantage of what makes this town special and bringing in others who would appreciate that personal touch. Rural tourism is a booming trend across the country, and it’s a means of revitalizing and diversifying a lot of formerly agrarian and rural communities that have suffered economic downturns, exactly like Wishful has.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about what you show people who come here from out of town. You take them to the fountain, tell them the story, and get them to make a wish. You take them out to Hope Springs. You take them to Dinner Belles or The Spring House. You show them all the things that make you proud of Wishful. And people respond to that.”

“I still don’t see how that translates into tourism.”

“You can’t appreciate this because you’ve always had it. You’ve always lived here, except for when you were away at college. The fact is, a whopping eighty percent of Americans live in urban areas. They’re caught up in the go go go go go, and they want somewhere they can go for a change of pace, for a reminder that there are still places in this country that remember what’s important. People
want
to slow down—whether they realize it or not. Jesus, look at me.”

“If you call what you’ve been doing the last couple of months slowing down, then we need to have a talk.”

Norah laughed. “Okay, so maybe I’m a poor example. But think about it. Think about how I couldn’t turn off or relax. Even as busy as I’ve been since we started the coalition, I’m less stressed, less
everything
since I came here. Largely because of you, yes, but also because I finally shifted gears. And it’s been amazing to reconnect with that. I want to give that to other people. And I want Wishful to reap benefits.”

“You really think people would come?”

“I know they would. This is the answer, Cam. This is how Wishful can take care of itself instead of relying on outside industry. And it’s something that can grow and adapt as the town itself does. It’s a viable alternative with far more long-term benefits than anything Vick Burgess has up his sleeve.”

“Okay.” Cam nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

His ready agreement threw her. “Really? You like the idea?”

“I love it. It completely gets at the heart of what I want for Wishful. Sustainable community improvement that strengthens and enhances what’s already here rather than changing everything.” He lifted her hands to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Someone’s been paying attention.”

“I wouldn’t be good at what I do, if I didn’t.”

“I’m counting on those rock star capabilities.”

Norah grinned, thrilled to be needed, to have his faith in her abilities. “Fantastic. I’ve got calls in to several people who run the rural tourism campaigns in their towns. I really want to pick their brains about what they’ve done that was successful. I’ve got a ton more research to do on it before I can pull together a proper prospectus.”

“You’ve got two days.”

She gaped at him. “
Two days?
Are you kidding me?”

“The public debate and the City Council vote is in two days. You’ve been saying we need an alternative. We’ve got to let people know about it.”

And suddenly that faith felt like the weight of a world rather than motivation. “Cam, I’m good, but I can’t possibly have a full work-up to show the public done in two days. I don’t know enough about it.”

“Then don’t do the full work-up. Boil it down to the essentials. I can arrange for you to meet with the Council in private before the debate so you can present to them. They’ve got to have something else to sway them to vote down this special use permit.”

“The permit is specifically about giving them permission for commercial activity on that particular piece of land, right?”

“Yeah. If the permit gets voted down, then GrandGoods has to find another location. It’s not a full win. It’d just buy us some time. Unless they decide it’s more trouble than it’s worth, and they choose to pull out.”

“Okay. Okay, so let’s approach this not from the perspective of stopping GrandGoods in its entirety. Let’s approach this from the angle of stopping them from building on that land. Hope Springs is one of the biggest existing assets Wishful has. It will only stay that way, stay a viable resource, if there’s not a big ass store plunked down on its banks. Okay, I can work with that.” She reached for a legal pad.

Cam handed over a purple pen. “Get to it, Wonder Woman.”

“I require fuel in the form of Chinese,” she told him. “It’s going to be a really long night.”

“Anything you want.”

“Bulletin boards.”

He laughed. “Seriously?”

“As many as you can beg, borrow, or steal.”

“Your wish, milady.”

Chapter 17

“I need a favor.”

Cassie shoved up her sleeves and braced herself, all but vibrating with the desire for a mission. “Name it, friend.”

Cam leaned across the counter at The Daily Grind and dropped his voice. “We’re having an unofficial meeting before the debate tonight. I need you to see that nobody comes upstairs except myself, Norah, and the City Council.”

“So you need me to run interference in case a certain pretentious city official happens to show up?”

“Him or anyone else.”

Curiosity lit her eyes. “Are we having a covert op planning session?”

Cam laughed. “Nothing so exciting as that. I just wanted a chance to talk to them off book about some stuff before we get to the debate, that’s all.”

Cassie pouted. “I think we should plot a mission to slash the tires on that new Lexus he’s running around in, acting like he owns the town. Prick.”

“Vick got a new car?”

“Yep. Top of the line SUV with heated seats and all those bells and whistles, like the automatic stop and back up camera and whatever. He was totally bragging on it to Neil Faber at the latest Rotary Club meeting.”

Cam wondered how the hell Vick was affording something like that on the City Planner’s salary. Then again, qualifying for the loan and truly being able to afford it were two different things. Vick was absolutely the kind of guy who’d choose appearances over practicality.

“You aren’t a member of the Rotary Club. How’d you know about that?”

“Please. I never reveal my sources.”

“Fair enough. I appreciate that I can count on your discretion, Cass.”

The door opened and Norah came in, laptop bag slung over her shoulder and two of the bulletin boards that had taken over his loft tucked under both arms. Cam hurried over to relieve her of the boards.

“You ready?”

“As I’m going to be.” But she didn’t have the easy confidence he’d come to associate with her presentations.

Cam knew he’d set an impossible task for her. Part of why she was good was because she was thorough, and less than forty-eight hours was hardly adequate for an in depth study of the topic. He was relying on her panache and natural persuasion to carry the day.

“You’ll be great.”

His assurance didn’t seem to make much of a dent in the doubts swirling in her eyes.

They’d set up the boards and laid out the folders of informative material at each seat by the time the other Council members arrived. By then, Norah had her game face on, calm and confident.

When she nodded she was ready, Cam launched in. “I realize you’re all taking time out of your busy schedules to be here. I thank you for that.

“You wanna tell us why we’re having this meeting now instead of as part of tonight’s debate?” Connie demanded.

“There are things relevant to the debate that aren’t on the agenda tonight, and I wanted an opportunity to present them without interference.”

“Meaning you don’t want Vick to know about them,” Hank said.

“It’s no secret there’s no love lost between me and Vick, but this isn’t about that. Wishful has a problem. A big one. We all know it. We’ve all watched it get bigger and bigger over the last few years at every one of our budgetary meetings. Money simply isn’t coming into town, into the city coffers at a rate sufficient to support the existing infrastructure, public services, or city salaries. We’ve all taken pay cuts or cut back hours. The public library is down to a single full-time employee, a couple of part-timers, and a small group of volunteers. The police force is operating on a shoe string, and God help us if we have any kind of fire that the volunteer departments can’t handle.”