“You live…in a barn.” Norah made the statement slowly, as if that might make it a dream.
“Above one, actually.” Cam climbed out of the truck and reached for the bags in the backseat.
“Um…why?”
“It happens the house that was here burned to the ground a few years back. The owners didn't have the means or desire to rebuild. So I bought it and all the land that went with it. The barn loft was easy enough to convert into an apartment. Mitch and a few other friends helped me do it the summer I bought the place. I keep meaning to start on a house, but it...just hasn't been a priority. Come on in and let’s see how far I’ve offended your city girl sensibilities.”
Norah climbed out of his truck and stalked around the front. “Just because I’ve lived in cities more than half my life doesn’t change the fact that I’m Mississippi born and bred.”
He chuckled at the irritated twitch to her hips and led her up the stairs to the converted loft. Hush met them at the door, wagging in ecstasy at her visitor. While she and Norah greeted each other as if it’d been years rather than a few hours since they’d played together, Cam brushed past them and deposited the bags on the coffee table.
“Can I get you anything? There’s a pitcher of tea in the fridge. Or beer if you want.”
Norah extricated herself from the dog and finally stepped inside, her heels clicking across the hardwood floors he’d sanded and stained himself. “Coffee, if you’ve got it.”
“Comin’ right up.”
Hush bounced across the room and laid claim to her end of the sofa. As he set up the coffee to brew, Cam watched Norah taking in his space and wondered what she saw. Would she notice the reclaimed wood they’d fashioned into window seats and cabinetry along the length of both long walls? Or the solid butcher block counters polished to a gleam? Would she appreciate the small touches of the antique and the rustic? Or would she only see the lack of sleek and modern?
Norah turned a slow circle. "It's...wonderful. Cozy.”
Something in him eased at that. She really wasn’t the city girl he teased her of being. Not completely. “It’s unique anyway. I like my privacy.”
By the time French roast dripped through the filter, Norah had commandeered the coffee table. Her assortment of new notepads was laid out by size, and she was in the process of organizing the pens by color.
“You had multiple colored highlighters and sticky notes when you studied in college, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. There were flashcards, too. I made everybody play Trivial Pursuit to study.”
Amused and happy to have her in his space, alone, he flopped down beside her on the sofa and tugged her into his lap. He cut off her squeal of surprise with a kiss.
“Mmm, I’ve been waiting for that for days.” Nibbling his way down her throat, he said, “Been waiting to get you here all to myself for longer.”
“Stop.” Norah’s voice was a trifle breathless as she slapped a hand to his chest and shoved back. “We need to talk.”
“Talk.” The universal warning signal for relationships everywhere. Where was she going with this?
“I—oh for heaven’s sake, I can’t do this in your lap.” She extricated herself and took a breath. “Look, what we’re trying to do here is huge. It’s going to take a lot of work, and I need to be at the top of my game. I can’t do that if you’re scrambling my brains every other minute with your mouth.”
Cam fought the grin for all of two seconds.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Campbell.” Her narrow-eyed glare was entirely ruined by the twitch of her own lips
“Hard not to be when you’re exactly where I want you. Almost.” He managed not to glance at the door to the bedroom as he curled his hand around hers and stroked a thumb over her wrist. Her pulse jumped and that pleased him as well.
“This—you and me—it’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t have to be.” He didn’t want it to be. He wanted things to be simple.
“It’s complicated.” Those expressive eyes were full of so much doubt and uncertainty. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life.”
“So? You don’t have to have a plan for everything all the time.”
“I do. Do you know the last time I didn’t know exactly where my life was going and how I was going to get there? Fifth grade, when my parents divorced and had to sort out custody, which was really trying to work out whose career trying to save the world was inconvenienced the least by having to deal with me. I don’t just bounce along without a plan. Ever. Because I have to know I have somewhere to land.”
Cam bled for her. He knew what it was to be abandoned by a parent because of career. But at least he’d had his mom. He’d always been able to count on her. On the rest of his family. He wanted to tug Norah back into his arms, but he didn’t think she’d let him. Not just now.
“Miranda and her family—your family and this town have been that for me. So I intend to win this war. I won’t watch what happened to Morton happen here. I can’t.”
She carried so much guilt. He wanted to ease that burden for her but didn’t know what he could say that she would believe. So he just brushed the hair back from her face and said in all seriousness, “We won’t.”
Norah shifted back, as if his touch pained her.
Cam felt the first hints of true unease slither through him. “What’s wrong?”
“It can’t work, Cam.”
His heart began to thud. “What can’t?”
Her eyes, those lovely, dark eyes, were full of apology. “Us.”
The hand he still held was trembling, and she looked on the verge of tears. But he couldn’t shove down the temper and disbelief, “I think the last two weeks are pretty damned good evidence to the contrary.”
“This isn’t about compatibility or attraction. But there’s no future here. There never was. I was always leaving, at some point. I have a life, a career to salvage. You just made me forget that for a while. Staying to run this campaign is a delay of the inevitable. We’re not fling kind of people, and I think it’s wiser to stop things before they go any further.”
“I pretty much blew wisdom all to hell the moment I decided to kiss you.”
“We got in over our heads. I’m just trying to do the right thing here. I don’t want to hurt you, but my life isn’t here. Not beyond the temporary.”
More than half the reason he’d asked her to stay was to give her a legitimate reason not to go back, to continue to explore what was growing between them. And she was all set to walk away.
Same song, different verse.
“If you truly think the life you left behind is worth more than what you’ve found here, then you’ve just failed Life Lessons 101. Miserably.”
She flinched and pulled her hand free. “We’ve established that’s the one area Burkes regularly fail at. Please don’t be angry. We have to be able to work together on this campaign.”
Of course. The campaign. No matter what was going on between them, he needed her to help save his town. She’d agreed to stay, however long it took. So he’d use that and find a way to convince her that there were more important things in life than career and prove that she had a place here, if only she was willing to take it.
So Cam stopped arguing. “Fine.”
Norah blinked at him. “Fine?”
“That’s not unreasonable logic.” Cam went to pour coffee because he needed to put some physical distance between them. “I don’t like it, don’t agree with it. But there are bigger things at stake here than us. We don’t have a lot of time to put this together. Just two weeks until the next City Council meeting. What’s next?”
Her shift into work mode was almost like seeing a set change for a play. She squared her shoulders, shutting her emotions away, and reached for one of the legal pads. Cam wished he could do the same as easily.
“Who has final say on this decision? Is this going to be a vote of the City Council or will it go out for a public ballot?”
“As the law currently stands, it’s a City Council vote.”
“So our goal is to persuade the decision makers to say no.” She scribbled that at the top. “There are two avenues to do that, and we’ll follow through on them both. On your side, you’ll be fighting this from within the system of city government. You know, or can find out, all the steps in the whole process of going from proposal to approval where there’s an opportunity to stop them in their tracks.”
“There aren’t nearly enough of those steps for my taste.”
“Nevertheless, we’re working with what we’ve got. You’ll be focusing on how the store would harm the community and the economy—and first thing tomorrow you should request an economic impact study from an independent contractor. Morton didn’t do that and should have.”
Cam stole one of the smaller pads and began to make his own list. “What about you?”
“My efforts will be geared toward showing how many members of the community support a ‘no’ vote.”
“Considering how many people we hypothesize will want a ‘yes,’ how do you plan to do that?”
“By educating the public—and myself—on the hidden costs of big box stores and creating a campaign to get the word out about that. But to do that I need data. About forty percent of persuasion is knowing your audience. I want to do a focus group with the local Chamber of Commerce.”
And a challenge straight out of the gate. “That’s gonna be a bit tough. The Chamber of Commerce is more or less defunct.”
“How defunct?”
“Well, I can’t really remember the last time they met. They never formally disbanded, but they haven’t actually done anything in a good five, maybe seven years. Not since I bought the nursery, and I’m technically a member.”
“Well then, now’s the time to revive it. Local businesses are going to be the biggest potential allies in this fight, as they’re the ones who have the most to lose.”
He couldn’t fault her logic. “I’ll make some calls, put something together.”
“Good. Let me know when and where. If we can get a venue with a marker or chalkboard, that would be really helpful, but in a pinch I can pick up a flip chart and easel.” She began listing things out in a smaller notebook.
“Should be able to set something up at the community center. I’m pretty sure they’ve got markerboards floating around there somewhere. I’ll go by and book the space tomorrow.”
“Good. Do you think they’d be willing to show up out of concern and civic duty or should we offer incentives?”
He offered her a steaming mug. “Incentives?”
“Feeding people is always a popular way to get butts in chairs.”
“I expect we can get people to show up either way.”
“Then we’ll save that for when we have a head count to see if it’s within the budget. What is the budget?”
“Budget?” When he’d concocted this plan, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“My skills aren’t the only expense of a marketing campaign.”
Maybe it’s a good thing she decided to do this pro bono. “I’d have to do some figuring.”
“This isn’t a big city, so the big ticket items like TV spots are unnecessary and wouldn’t be hitting our target audience anyway. We’ll focus on guerrilla marking and low budget, grassroots tactics.” She made more notes, this time on one of the larger pads.
“Guerrilla marketing? Do I need to pick up some greasepaint and a ghillie suit?”
“Guerrilla marketing focuses on tactics outside the traditional realm—thinking outside the box instead of focusing on mass marketing through traditional media. Ideally we’d have a much longer period of time to build something, but since we don’t, it’s vital that we define our target audience, figure out who the best local influencers are—that’s where I hope to loop in the local business owners—and get them to help spread the word. This is a small town. Everybody knows everybody else, and gossip is the currency of the day. Our goal is to get that working to our advantage to get a Shop Local campaign off the ground.”
He blinked at her, trying to process everything she’d said. “Wow. That’s…I don’t know. A bit more elaborate than I was expecting.”
“That’s not even a full basic prospectus. What exactly did you think you were asking me to do?”
He’d been trying to give her a reason to stay that she could justify without getting into the murky issue of their relationship. The relationship she’d just broken off. “I didn’t look much beyond the fact that you were an ally. After the City Council meeting tonight, those were in pretty short supply.”
Cam saw her reach toward him, as if to lay her hand over his, then stop. “Well, I am that. I love Wishful. I always have. If I can do something to preserve it, I absolutely will. But we have to have a plan for that. I’ll do some research, see if there happens to be some kind of smoking gun of bad press on GrandGoods, but chances are there won’t be. We need to be prepared to give the town an alternative.”
“An alternative?”
“Part of why GrandGoods is going to be so appealing is because it’s something different from the status quo. If they have no other options, people will make the shitty choice just because it’s there.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Burgess—the City Planner—has always had this tendency to over-emphasize industrial recruiting. I understand that. It’s the loss of industry that got us into this financial state to start with, but in all of his efforts to woo companies into coming here, he pays almost no attention to improving the quality of life in the community. Prosperous small town economies are built on the foundation of strong communities. We’ve lost so much in the last decade, and part of that is community spirit. But we only have two weeks. I have no idea what we could do in that span to remind people of that, let alone give them a true economic alternative. We have virtually no resources, little support. And as much as I believe you are Wonder Woman, I don’t know if even you can pull this off.”
“Have a little faith, Cam, and people might surprise you.”
“I’ll do my best.” But he was afraid faith, like allies, was in very short supply.
~*~
The streets of downtown Wishful were all but empty, shrouded in winter quiet. In another hour or so, the get to school and work hustle would begin, and businesses would open for another day. For now, it was just Cam and the silence of the green, exactly as he liked it. Even in the winter, it felt like a postcard of his own little slice of paradise. He’d fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.
Wanting to stretch his legs, he parked across the green and walked the couple of blocks to his destination. With the nursery being somewhat out from town, he made it a point to drive in and patronize other local businesses at least once most days. He considered it good for the local economy and part of his job as a City Councilman to be visible and social—connected to his constituents. As he was bound for City Hall, he set his sights on The Daily Grind and a caffeinated form of olive branch to hopefully smooth his way.
As soon as he stepped through the door, Cassie Callister called out, “Just the man I wanted to see! Do a girl a favor and give me the scoop on this proposed store before Mama Pearl hears.”
Being one of the two major gossip hubs of town, Cassie and the staff of The Grind were in a constant competition with Mama Pearl at Dinner Belles to be the first to know anything worth knowing. Given the general consensus that Mama Pearl was somehow psychic—Violet swore to it on a stack of Bibles—Cam was pretty sure she was in a perpetual lead.
“Do I even want to know who got the gossip train moving on this?”
Cassie grinned. “You know I never reveal my sources.”
“Hook me up with a straight Americano, a white chocolate mocha, and whatever Avery’s go to is this month, and I’ll consider it.”
“I’m on it. All to go?”
“Yep.”
While she bustled behind the counter, Cam scoped out the handful of other patrons. A few familiar faces, but nobody that sent up red flags that he should keep his mouth shut, so as Cassie handed over his coffee, he said, “We’ve had a formal proposal by GrandGoods for store development.”
Cassie made a face. “Homogenized, big bulk, over processed, sweat shop supporting robots.”
“Then you’ll want to be at the Chamber of Commerce meeting later this week to get in on the ground floor of things.”
“Ooo, are we staging a protest? A picket line? A sit in?”
He chuckled, thinking Cassie was born in the wrong decade. “I think the expert helping out has some other ideas.”
“Well count me in. When and where, my friend?”
“Not sure just yet. Soon. I’ve still gotta book the community center, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
As it was early yet, Cam made his way down Main Street without the usual stop and greet that would’ve tripled his time. The guard’s station at the front desk of City Hall was empty. Old Jerry Noble wouldn’t be on duty until the hall officially opened at eight. Cam bypassed the metal detector and headed up the stairs to his mother’s office on the second floor.
Avery looked up as he came in. “She’s been here since seven.”
“Thought she might be.” He held out the double shot espresso.
“Bless you.” She dropped her voice as she took the proffered coffee. “She’s in a mood.”
“Afraid I’m not gonna be helping that.”
“I figured as much.”
“Ah well, forewarned is forearmed.”
“For what it’s worth, we’re both on your side.”
“Thanks for that.” He rapped on the door, lifting a brow at the curt invitation before he stepped inside.
His mother looked up from the desk. “Don’t you start on me, Campbell. I’m already having a lousy morning.”
Cam revised his strategy. “Who’s starting something? I’m just here bearing legal stimulants and checking in before I head out to the nursery for the day.” He passed her the caffeine and sugar bomb he knew she loved but would never order for herself. “What’s wrong?”
“Chief Curry just submitted his resignation, pending the hire of a replacement.”
“He what?” Robert Curry had been Chief of Police in Wishful since…forever. Which, now that Cam thought about it, might be the why.
“He wants to retire, damn him. Like we need more change right now. I told him we’d take it under advisement, but we have to do a nationwide search and that takes time.”
“He doesn’t think anyone in the department is up to the task?”
“There’s one person who will probably apply, but a nationwide search is the only way to do things fairly and be certain we have the best candidate. Either way, it has to wait until this GrandGoods thing is settled. Now go ahead and spit out whatever it is you came here to say about it.”
Cam kept his face impassive.
“Don’t take that innocent face with me, young man. It didn’t work when you were five and it won’t work now. I’m sure you and Norah came up with something to make my life difficult during your powwow last night.”
No, the difficulty Norah presented the night before had nothing to do with his mother.
“We are not out to make your life difficult, Mom.”
“You’re going to put me in a position to play referee between you and Vick Burgess, even though I technically agree with you, because I have to be the mayor, not your mother, if I want the decision to be accepted by the public. That makes my life difficult.”
Too restless to sit, Cam stood and began moving around her office. “If Norah’s plan works, the public is going to be on our side and this isn’t going to come down to a brawl—metaphoric or otherwise—between me and Vick.”
Sandra gave a wary look. “And what exactly is her plan?”
“Garner public support for a ‘no’ vote by educating them on the true impact of big box stores.”
“And you think people will listen to her as an outsider?”
He picked up the photo of the old Hoka Theater in Oxford and put it back again. “She’s less outsider than this representative from GrandGoods. A lot of people know her through Miranda, since she’s been coming here so many years. You’ve met her. What do you think?”
“I look at her and I see her father.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. “You know her dad?”
“By reputation. Her father was a fraternity brother of your dad’s.”
Cam jolted at that. Having lived his entire life in Mississippi, he knew the whole state was one big small town, and there were seldom more than a couple of degrees of separation between people. But a connection between Norah’s dad and his own? That was…unexpected.
“What was he like?”
“Joseph Burke was a shooting star. I’ve known very few people as brilliant, driven, or unyieldingly competitive. He was the guy everybody knew on campus, partly because he was student body president, and partly because that’s just who he was. He spoke and people listened. He’s a gifted orator. Once he left Ole Miss, he went on to Harvard Law.”
Exactly the kind of man his father would envy.
“Norah’s very like him in a lot of ways.”
Cam couldn’t argue with that description, and yet he saw so much more in her than that. And judging by the tilt of his mother’s head, as if she hadn’t quite finished her thought, she saw something else too.
“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”
“But, I don’t think he’d do what she’s doing.”
“Which part? Working pro bono?”
“Working on this at all. Everything Joseph did was to get the hell out of Mississippi. He was never satisfied being a big fish in a small pond. He wanted to be a big fish in an ocean. The kind of man who wanted to save the world—and get credit for it.”
Perhaps Norah’s dad had more in common with Cam’s after all.
“From what she’s said about him, he’s been exceptionally successful at that. But Norah’s not like that.”
“No, I don’t think she is. I don’t think she’d have stayed friends with Miranda, kept coming back here all these years if she was.”
“She has no financial stake in the decision, so less reason to be biased. I think that’s in our favor.”
“She seemed pretty biased to me.”
“No more than I am. She got a really raw deal. And nothing anybody can say will convince her that she didn’t personally have a hand in destroying that other town.”
“Shouldering all that responsibility.” Sandra shook her head. “Reminds me of someone else I know.” She lifted a meaningful brow at him.
Cam shrugged. “Apple. Tree.” He pointed a finger at his chest, then at her.
“True enough. Now what is it you really want this morning?” Her manner relaxed, and Cam knew the brief diversionary conversation had been the right move.
“I think we should commission an independent economic impact study. Bring in an expert who doesn’t have a horse in this race to look at the local economy and actually project what GrandGoods will do to it, good or bad. It will help us all make a more informed decision.”
“That seems completely logical. Why bring this directly to me?”
“Because I figure it stands a better chance of happening if it comes from you. You can strong arm Vick where I can’t if he kicks up a fuss.”
“I hate how much of this job is making other people play nice.”
“You had plenty of practice corralling me and the cousins over the years.”
She fixed him with a gimlet eye. “I could ground all of you.”
Cam grinned.
“I’ll set up a meeting.” She dialed Vick’s extension, obviously surprised when he answered after the second ring. Cam checked his watch. Not yet eight. Vick was getting a bright and early start after his apparent success at last night’s Council meeting. Sandra asked him to come up for a quick chat.
“Should I vamoose?”
“No need for that.”
Vick was all smiles when he strode in a few minutes later. He opened his mouth, ostensibly to spew some effusive pleasantries, but Sandra cut him off, back to the curt irritation she’d displayed when Cam had arrived.
“I’ll be brief. Before things go any further on the GrandGoods proposal, I want an economic impact study conducted. Paid for by the city, conducted by an independent agent with no ties to GrandGoods. This project is significantly different from any of the proposals we’ve entertained before, and I want to make absolutely certain we proceed with as much information as possible.”
“I think that’s a very sensible suggestion, Sandra. I’d be happy to get right on that this morning and compile a list of possible contractors.”
His ready agreement threw Cam. Where was the antagonism? The arguments against slowing the process?
“That would be great. I’ve got a full plate sorting through other things today.”
With another of those used car salesman grins, Vick walked right back out.
“There. That was relatively painless, for once.”
Painless and Vick didn’t go together. “I don’t trust him. He never agrees to anything that easily.”
“I take it as a sign he’s trying to play nice. I suggest you do the same. Now skedaddle on to work yourself. I’ve got work to do.”