To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (31 page)

GrandGoods had won.

Chapter 18

“Here, looks like y’all could use this.” Tucker handed Cam and Norah glasses of Scotch.

Cam tossed his back, wishing the burn of alcohol could mitigate the crushing disappointment of their defeat. Beside him, Norah rolled the tumbler between her hands, the ice cube making a soft
clink
against the glass. She’d said nothing since the City Council meeting adjourned and they’d reconvened at Tucker’s downtown apartment. This late, nothing was open, and they’d all felt the need to debrief. Except no one seemed inclined to break the silence.

Breaking the silence meant saying the words. Admitting the truth of their failure out loud would make it real. All that work, all that planning, and Goliath had won after all. Since they left the courthouse, Cam had been second-guessing every decision they’d made, wondering what they’d done or hadn’t done that might’ve tipped the balance. Had it been a mistake to keep the rural tourism aspect quiet? Would it have been better to present it, as undeveloped a plan as it was, in the public forum? Or would the townsfolk have seen it for what it was—grasping at straws?

Would it have been better to not fight at all? To have never had the possibility an alternative in the first place? He was used to disappointment, used to things turning out poorly. He knew how to endure that. But this, the fall from a place of hope, was so much longer, so much harder than accepting that the situation was crappy and was likely to remain so.

Cam looked at Norah, at the shuttered expression in her dark eyes as she stared at nothing, unnaturally quiet and still. The fight had, in a very real way, brought him her. No matter what happened to Wishful, he could never regret the war that had given her reason to stay. So he would bear up under the disappointment and soldier on, grateful to have her by his side.

Miranda sank down on the other end of the sofa and slid an arm around Norah’s shoulders. “Honey, are you okay?”

Eyes still unfocused, she shook her head once. Miranda squeezed in support. Cam laid his hand on Norah’s thigh, but she didn’t take it, only continued to turn the glass in her hands.

“I thought for sure you had Grace,” said Mitch, at last.

“Did you see how she looked everywhere in the room except at Vick?” Tyler asked. “Didn’t that seem weird to you?”

“Like he got to her in a conspiracy theory sort of way?” Tucker leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “That sounds like something Cassie would say.”

“I’m more surprised by Hank,” Cam said. “I felt sure the issue of the wear and tear on infrastructure would sway him to our side. Roads are a big thing with him.”

“I just didn’t expect it to end like this,” Miranda said.

Norah raised her glass and drained it before setting it down on the coffee table with a
crack
. “This isn’t over.”

“There’s nothing left we can do. Legally, there’s no other means of stopping construction.”

She exploded up from the sofa, stalking to the end of the room before whirling back. Her eyes weren’t unfocused now. They flashed with the heat of temper. “There has to be something. Until they break ground—hell, until they open the goddamned doors, there has to be
something
.”

The thread of desperation in her voice had Cam crossing to her, running both hands down her arms in an attempt to soothe. “Honey, it’s done.”

“No. No, it isn’t done.
I’m
not done. The land deal hasn’t closed yet. There’s still time for something to change.”

A dangerous and fruitless line of speculation. “Do you honestly think you’ll change Abe’s mind? You’ve been trying to do that for weeks.”

“So we find someone else to buy the land. Recruit investors.”

“Investors from where? No one here has that kind of money or inclination or they’d have done it already.”

“Then we go outside of town.”

“And what exactly would they be investing in? Part ownership of land we don’t want anyone to develop? Who do you think is crazy enough to do that? And who do you think has that kind of money to put into something that won’t turn a profit?”

“I don’t
know
, damn it. But I’m not going to just accept this. I can’t.”

“Norah—”

“Burkes don’t fail, Cam.
I
don’t fail. And I’m sure as hell not going to start now.”

“You didn’t fail.”

“I made you a promise.”

“And you kept it. You haven’t let me down, Wonder Woman. The rest of the Council did.”

“It was my job to convince them.”

“It was both our jobs. I didn’t pull it off either. But you can’t take responsibility for the behavior of other people. We did everything we could do in the time we had available.”

“And it wasn’t enough.” She closed her eyes, her face twisting in pain as she whispered again, “It wasn’t enough."

“Hey, look at me.” Cam cupped her face, tipped it to his and waited until she opened the eyes swimming with unshed tears. “What happened in Morton—which wasn’t your fault, as we already established—isn’t happening here. You expressly designed the coalition to support Wishful for the long haul, not just for this one fight. We can still develop your rural tourism campaign. You said yourself it’s long-term and adaptable to circumstances and budget. We’ll need that now, more than ever, to mitigate the impact GrandGoods will have. And that’s going to make the difference in our survival.
You
gave us that option.
You
did that. Maybe it’s not everything we’d hoped, but that’s not failure.”

Norah said nothing for a long moment. Shoulders slumping, she rasped out, “I’m tired. I’m so damned tired.” Cam expected her to lean in, rest her head on his shoulder, but she pulled away instead, scooping both hands through her hair.

“You’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks,” Miranda said.

“You know me.” Norah flashed a humorless smile. “Full tilt or nothing.”

“You’ll feel better with a good night’s sleep.” Cam wanted to bundle her up himself, hold her until she finally relaxed.

“A good week’s sleep,” Mitch added. “It’s time to let yourself crash, sugar.”

After another long hesitation, Norah nodded. “Let’s go home.” It was Miranda she looked at. Miranda she leaned on as she gave a numb and generalized farewell before walking out Tucker’s door.

Cam felt a chasm yawning open between them.

Tyler slid an arm around his waist and rubbed his back. “Don’t take it personally. She’s asleep on her feet and upset. Miranda will take care of her.”

Of course she would. That was never a question. But it didn’t change the fact that Cam wanted to be the one Norah turned to, who took care of her and eased the hurts.

“It’s been a shitty night all around.”

“That it has.” Mitch crossed over and pulled Cam into a thumping hug. “I’m really sorry how things turned out, cuz.”

“If there’s anything we can do,” Tucker said, “for you or for Norah, just let us know.”

Cam sighed. “It’s the end of the road for now. And late. Really flipping late. I should get home myself, let Hush out, and get my ass to bed.” And hope he actually slept with a hundred pounds of canine draped over his feet instead of warm woman curled against his chest.

Maybe by the time they both surfaced tomorrow, he’d have some idea of the right thing to say.

~*~

“You’re completely insane.” Tucker leaned back in the leather chair behind the wide wooden desk that dominated his law office. “You know that, right?”

“I’m determined,” Norah corrected. “And I’m thinking outside the box. Can you do it or not?”

“Yeah, I can do it. The bureaucratic red tape is minimal in a situation like this. The whole thing can be a done deal in ten days, as long as the title is clear. But are you sure?”

“Positive. This is important, Tucker.”

“Does Cam know about this plan?”

“No, and I’ll tell him when the time is right and not before. I’ll remind you of attorney-client privilege and the fact that I will sue your ass if you break it.”

Tucker held up both hands in surrender. “I’m not gonna break my ethical code.”

“How fast can you have the paperwork drawn up?”

“Should be ready late this afternoon. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Put a rush on it. I don’t want to take any chances on this going awry.” Norah checked her watch. “I need to get going. I’ve got another appointment.”

“I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

As had become her habit when running errands downtown, Norah left her car and walked from Tucker’s office. Despite her bravado to Tucker, it was a relief to turn her brain from the true insanity she had just instigated to the meeting that had more than piqued her curiosity.

In the wake of the Council’s decision on the special use permit, Norah had posted an update on the coalition website and sent out a newsletter. She hadn’t asked for money, hadn’t pursued the idea of investors. But she’d made it clear that they were open to further suggestions. Twenty-four hours later, she’d received a phone call from Gerald Peyton, the man who’d inadvertently inspired her rural tourism campaign. He wanted to discuss a business proposition.

Gerald rose from the lip of the fountain as she approached, and there was nothing of the lost about him today. Unlike their first chance encounter, this time Gerald was dressed in a sharply-tailored business suit, a sedate Hermes tie breaking the line of his crisp Oxford shirt, and a Burberry coat draped neatly over one arm.

Once, she’d have been dressed just as smartly, but after two months in Wishful, she’d dialed back to a more comfortable cashmere sweater and jeans. She felt hideously under-dressed. Despite her casual attire, it was easy to slip back into the skin of the consummate professional. She offered her hand. “Mr. Peyton, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Not at all. I’ve been enjoying the chance to slow down and people watch. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

Norah angled her head in amusement. “That depends. Do you care if whatever we discuss gets passed around town along with the lunch special? Because both Dinner Belles and The Daily Grind are the town gossip hubs.”

“Fair point.” His lips curved. “I don’t mind, but you might prefer to have some time to think things over before you become additional fodder for dinnertime conversations.”

Curiouser and curiouser.
“Then perhaps a walk instead?”

Gerald made an
after you
gesture and fell into step beside her.

“I didn’t come here looking for you the last time. You were just a reminder that got me looking back at the past. But meeting you, seeing what you’d done here, got me curious. So I looked you up. Or, as my PA would say, I Google-stalked you.”

Just months before, she’d known exactly what there was to find. Her credentials and her reputation had been finely-crafted with great deliberation. But most of that had been through Helios. She hadn’t had the courage to see what was left since they fired her.

“The coalition website, that’s your work?”

“With the exception of some of the content that came from other members, yes. The design and set up are mine.”

“It’s been up less than two months, but it’s already well-ranked with steady traffic flow.”

Norah shrugged. “It’s my business to know how to launch things quickly and well.” Not that it had mattered in the end.

“But web work isn’t your real forte, is it?”

Where was he going with this? “I enjoy it, but no, that’s not what I’m known for.”

“Skyhawk Industries. New Zinta International. Terraquest. Infinitim Technologies. All fledgling or failing companies until you took the reins of their marketing campaigns.”

“You
did
do your homework.” Impressed, she enjoyed the tingle of pleasure at the professional approbation. No one here knew the true specifics of what she’d done for Helios. “While I was the senior marketing executive on those accounts, it isn’t fair to take all the credit when I didn’t do the work alone. I had a team of talented people.”

“You haven’t had that here.”

She frowned. “I wouldn’t say that. What I’ve been doing here is very different from the sort of work I usually do. The people I’ve worked with have different skill sets and strengths. That’s taken some adaptation.”

“The coalition wouldn’t have had the results it’s had without your leadership.”

“My leadership would’ve meant nothing without the buy-in of the locals. What exactly are you getting at, Mr. Peyton?”

“I wanted to make it clear that I know what you’re coming from. I recognize your professional acumen, and I respect the hell out of your capability. And for all those reasons, I want to offer you a job.”

Norah stopped walking. “What?”

“Let me back up a bit. I’m the CEO of Peyton Consolidated.” He paused, clearly waiting for some reaction. “I can see by the look on your face you aren’t familiar with the company. I won’t be offended by that. It’s part of why I need you.”