“—The Council has agreed to a delay of the vote until receipt of the economic impact study, so we’ve got a bit of a reprieve until the report comes back.” Cam’s announcement to the twenty or so members of the Chamber of Commerce scattered on the bleachers of the community center was met with grim focus.
Norah could work with that. What she wasn’t sure she could continue to do was work with Cam. He hadn’t pushed, hadn’t guilted, hadn’t even alluded to their brief relationship. But compartmentalizing what she felt for him was taking more than half the energy she needed to be devoting to the campaign. She could usually lose herself in the work, but seeing him day in, day out was slowly driving her mad.
Realizing he was done introducing her, Norah took his place up front, already refining her pitch, shifting from training to instinct. “Usually how this works is I’d go with all the glitz and glam, lay out my credentials and awards to establish myself as the resident expert before launching into my pitch. But this isn’t a boardroom and y’all don’t care about that. Most of you don’t know me. Those who do probably know little more than my connection to the Campbell family. So here’s what you need to know in a nutshell: I may not be from here, but I love this town, and I don’t want to see it desecrated by GrandGoods or any other corporate giant seeking to come in and carve out a place without consideration of the community at large. I have the skill set, the time, the passion, and the commitment to see that that doesn’t happen.”
She paused a few beats, noting body language as some, like Tyler and the sweet-faced brunette who ran the pharmacy, leaned forward, engaged. Mama Pearl folded both arms across her ample bosom, her strangely ageless face set in lines of skepticism. Norah had faced tougher crowds.
“But I can’t fight this war alone. And make no mistake—this is a war. GrandGoods and all they represent are a threat to the culture and way of life here. Your City Planner would have you believe otherwise.”
She turned and rotated the markerboard Cam had dragged in for her before the meeting so they could see the list she’d made. “Mr. Burgess would have you believe that GrandGoods will create jobs. Obviously, with Wishful’s economy being in its current state, that would be a great thing. If it were true. In fact, studies by independent economists prove that big box stores eliminate more retail jobs than they create. And the jobs they do create tend to be part time, low wages, with no benefits.” She drew a line through the first myth and moved on to the second. “He says GrandGoods will boost local tax revenue. That’s a big catch-22. Whatever tax benefits GrandGoods may provide will be negated by the cost of providing public services like roads, additional miles of utilities, more of a drain on fire and police time. Not to mention that cities that approve big box development often experience a decline in property and sales tax revenue from existing local businesses. That would be all of you.” She crossed another line off.
“He’ll tell you that GrandGoods will grow the economy, when, in fact, chains like them actually shrink the volume of activity in the local economy. As local business owners, you hire more local workers, purchase more goods and services from other local businesses, and contribute more to local charities than a big box counterpart would.” Another strike out. “GrandGoods is supposed to bring competition and choice for the consumer. But what competition will remain when they edge you out of business? A town this size cannot reasonably absorb a store of that scale without considerable revenue losses to existing businesses. And there’s absolutely no guarantee of quality or customer service.” She axed that one from the list and drew a circle around the remaining myth she intended to bust.
“Perhaps most important, they’re going to tell you that GrandGoods and other big box stores like it are the only option for saving your flagging economy. Mr. Burgess is focused on big industry, big box stores, big solutions to an understandably big and intimidating problem. And a lot of people think like he does. But the fact is, there are other solutions. Solutions that will protect and enhance your businesses and create a climate that will appeal to entrepreneurs seeking viable locations for small business investment.”
A hand shot up from the back row. Sandy hair with purple streaks. The owner of The Daily Grind.
“Yes Cassie?”
“That all sounds great, but it also sounds like a really long-term kind of project. Even with a few weeks’ reprieve from a decision about GrandGoods, how can we possibly make enough of a difference to stop it?”
“You’re right.” Norah nodded. “You’re absolutely right. It is a long-term kind of project. And I tell you that because I want to give y’all a hint of the bigger picture. But our goal—I think we’re all agreed on this—is to stop GrandGoods. In order to do that, we need to sway the decision makers to say no. That means the rest of the City Council.”
“And how are we gonna do that?” Mama Pearl demanded.
Norah let her smile spread wide. “You’re going to do what you do best. Share your wisdom with anybody and everybody who comes in your door.”
There was a ripple of laughter at that. One corner of Mama Pearl’s generous mouth quirked up. Her approximation of a grudging smile.
“All of you are here because you’re business owners. As such, you have contact on a daily basis with the citizens of Wishful. I’d wager most of you know the majority of your clientele by face, if not full names with family histories attached. You’re influencers in this community. What I need you to do is spread the word. Get people talking about this situation and be frank about your problems with the proposal. Most of all, it will be your job to utilize whatever gossip trees you have in place to make sure that everybody knows that we’re forming a citizens coalition, and we want them to join.”
Pharmacy girl lifted a timid hand.
Norah pointed to give her the floor. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Riley Gower. What exactly will we be doing with a citizens coalition?”
“I’m glad you asked. Apart from pulling together as many like-minded people as we can, the coalition will have two primary goals. The first will be to continue to spread the word and educate the public about this issue. Our country is notoriously inactive when it comes to taking action on a political front. Most people don’t take the time to educate themselves about the issues and prefer their news delivered in a soundbyte. We need to work to change that here. The second goal of the coalition will be to establish an effective Shop Local campaign. We want you to retain the customer base you have and remind everyone else why local is better, in an effort to get them to spend more of their dollars here rather than taking business elsewhere to places like Lawley or Jackson or online.”
Her audience peppered her with questions for the next half hour. Norah answered them, expanding and elaborating as she could, making note of anything she didn’t know so she could research further before the coalition meeting. When they wound down, Norah spread her hands. “Well, troops. I hope I’ve given you a good information base to work from on this and sufficient reason to act. Can I count on y’all to be my front line recruiters?”
“Aye aye, General!” Cassie Callister called.
Not everyone was quite as enthusiastic, but the prevailing consensus was a yes.
Cam stepped forward. “We’ve got information packets on the table by the door if you’d like to do more research yourself before talking to others.”
For the duration of her talk, he’d hung back, generally out of her sight. She’d been relieved at that, knowing that her gaze would’ve strayed too often to him. But it also meant she hadn’t been able to watch his reactions to her presentation. It was foolish to be nervous about that. She’d accomplished what she set out to do tonight. But it still felt important that he be happy with her work. He was, after all, sort of her client.
Everybody filed out except Tyler, who stood talking with Cam.
“Nicely done, Wonder Woman. I’m not surprised, but I’m suitably impressed.”
“It’s a start,” Norah acknowledged.
“Well, I for one am looking forward to seeing your plan of attack. And to seeing how well you can herd cats, because that’s totally what that coalition meeting will be.” Tyler seemed faintly amused at the thought.
They wouldn’t be the first cats she’d herded. “One challenge at a time.”
“What’s next?” Tyler asked.
“Individual recruitment of other business owners for the coalition.” Norah turned to Cam. “Do you have that list for me? We can split them down the middle to get done faster.”
“I do, but I think it’s best if we go together. A lot of people still don’t know you. They all know me, so I can get you in the door, smooth the way.”
“Can you afford to take that much time away from the nursery? It’ll probably take a few days to hit up everybody.”
“Violet runs a tight ship and this is a priority.”
Three full days working side-by-side. Oh goodie. “Okay then. We should start tomorrow.”
Cam’s stomach gave an audible gurgle. “You wanna go debrief over food? Figure out the schedule”
Norah felt almost weak with relief. “Can’t. Tyler and I are meeting Miranda and Piper for dinner at Speakeasy.”
“Beer, pizza, and gossip. Pretty sure there will be discussion about who Liam Montgomery is stepping out with.”
“He’s only been back a few weeks. How do you know he’s stepping out with anybody?” Cam asked.
“I don’t, but it’s hella fun to torture Miranda.” Tyler grinned.
“Does she actually still have a thing for him?”
“She says she doesn’t. I’m pretty sure she’d just like the chance to be seen as something other than Randa Panda. If that dress she wore New Year’s Eve didn’t do the trick, I’m not sure anything will.”
“I can’t believe she didn’t murder Mitch for that one,” Tyler said.
“Miranda is a big believer in the idea that revenge is a dish best served cold.” Cam looked back to Norah. “Anyway, you want to do breakfast in the morning? We can go over the recruitment plan for the rest of the week before you take Hush for your play date.”
“Works for me. You make coffee. I’ll bring food.”
“If you want something other than Frosted Flakes, that’s probably best.”
“Frosted Flakes? What are you, ten?”
“Hey, they’re grrrrreat! Besides, what’s the point of being a grown up if you can’t eat all the stuff your mom wouldn’t let you have when you were a kid?”
“I can think of a few other better reasons to be a grown up,” Norah said.
Cam shot her a look so full of heat, she almost took a step back.
Jesus, that’s so not what I meant. But, of course, now the thought was in her head. She needed to get out of here before she broke into a sweat. “We should probably get going, Tyler. We’re going to be late.”
“Y’all go ahead. I’ll lock up here. I’ll see you in the morning, Wonder Woman. Say seven-thirty? Violet’s got a thing, so I need to be at the nursery to open by nine. Then we can hit the streets around noon.”
“Sure. Tomorrow.”
The cold night air was a relief. Tyler had left her truck at the hardware store, so she hitched a ride with Norah to the pizzeria.
Tyler tugged her seatbelt into place. “So, how long has that been going on?”
Norah tightened her hands on the wheel, hoping she misunderstood. “How long has what been going on?”
“You and Cam.”
Norah kept her eyes on the road. “There is no me and Cam.”
“If there’s not, then there should be. The pair of you are throwing off enough sexual tension to power the county for a month.”
God, she felt it. Focusing on not reacting, Norah kept her voice even. “That would be very complicated considering my life isn’t actually here beyond the temporary.”
“Maybe, but it’d sure be a helluva lot of fun.”
“I didn’t come down here looking for fun.” She hadn’t come down here looking for a relationship of any kind.
“Maybe not, but it’s worth grabbing while you can. You never know when you’ll lose it.” Her tone didn’t change, but there was some subtle thread of pain underlying Tyler’s words that distracted Norah from her own problems.
“I’m thinking there’s a story behind that wisdom.”
“One for another time. Tonight is for girls only.”
As she followed Tyler into the pizzeria, Norah wondered if she was right. Was it worth grabbing onto while she could, even knowing the whole thing had an expiration date? Was the pleasure worth the ultimate pain?
If she’d had only herself to consider, maybe she could believe that. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t knowingly put Cam in a position that would build false hope for a future they couldn’t have. He’d been through enough.
~*~
“And that’s another one ticked off.” Norah made a triumphant and dramatic check on the legal pad in her lap.
Cam turned his eyes away from that lap and the slim black skirt that’d had “Barracuda” running through his head since she’d slid into his truck that morning. Why had he thought this was a good idea?
“You knew exactly how that would go before we even walked in there, didn’t you?” He cranked the engine. “Down to the fact that Abe wasn’t going to listen to a word I said.”
“Yep.”
“And you let me walk in there and try to talk to him anyway.” Figuring old school Abe wouldn’t respond well to Norah’s city slicker suit and fancy shoes, Cam had thought it best to take the lead.
“I did.”
“Was that to prove a point?”
Norah smiled, and it was almost a real one. “A little. But it also set up a little good cop/bad cop. You went in there expecting him to see you as an enemy, and he did. I was a sweet little gal in need of rescuing by a big, strong, experienced man. I was no threat.”
“No threat, my ass. That was a friggin’ work of art how you herded him around to volunteering like it was all his idea. You got him to do exactly what you wanted.”
“Yes. Yes, I did.” Her lips curved in an expression of smug satisfaction that shot his internal temperature up a good ten degrees.
Cam shifted in his seat. “Objectively, I knew you were good, but I don’t think I really grasped what that meant. I honestly did not expect you to pull that off.”
“Abe Costello is hardly the first good ol’ boy I’ve ever had to deal with. The South doesn’t have the market cornered on old school male chauvinists. I made it out of there without getting my ass pinched, so I call that a win on multiple fronts.”
And that just made him think about palming her ass. Business. Stick to business. “Who’s next?”
She consulted the ever-present list. “Brister Construction.”
“That’ll be Burt Brister. Another of those good ol’ boys.”
Norah crossed her legs in that slim black skirt, drawing his eye. “Then I’ll charm him just as easily.”
Cam found that the mantle of optimism didn’t rest so comfortably on his own shoulders. In his experience, nothing worth having came easy, so he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But despite their personal differences, he did trust Norah, and she had just successfully talked Abe Costello into coming to the coalition meeting to hear her out, so for her sake, he was trying to rein in his natural skepticism.
The huge doors of the garage that housed all the heavy equipment were closed and only one aging work truck with the Brister insignia was parked in the gravel lot when they pulled up.
“Think they’re out on a job?” Norah asked.
“Not likely this time of year. Personal vehicles would be parked around back.”
Not even a receptionist sat at the front desk when they stepped inside.
“Maybe we should come back later.”
Cam moved further inside. “Somebody’s here if the door’s unlocked. Hello?”
The clatter of plastic wheels sounded from the back and someone stepped out of an office. Burt Brister had always reminded Cam of General Custer, with the long, sandy mustache framing his mouth, a mouth that was very definitely unsmiling as he stepped forward. “Can I help you?”
“Campbell Crawford, sir. I believe you know my mother, the mayor.”
Burt angled his head in acknowledgment and took Cam’s offered hand.
“And this is Norah Burke. We were hoping you had a few minutes to talk to us.”
“Got more free minutes than I’d like just now. Come on back.” He shifted some files out of the two chairs in front of his battered metal desk and gestured for them to sit. His own chair creaked as he sat and looked the two of them over. “Y’all lookin’ to build a house?”
Norah, who’d opened her mouth to start whatever spiel she’d been planning, looked startled. “Sorry?”
Cam thought about what they must look like, a young couple ready to take the next step in life and wanting new digs to go with it. Since that was exactly the direction he’d been headed in when she broke things off, the question put a strain on his already volatile mood. “Ah, no sir. We’re here on another matter entirely. Are you aware that the city has been approached with a proposal by GrandGoods?”
“I heard rumblings about something. Didn’t know the particulars.”
Norah picked up the thread. “Provided they pass the approval process, they intend to build a 150,000 square foot store in Wishful.”
Burt straightened a little in his chair, his eyes sharpening. “Go on.”
She laid it out for him, explaining the proposal and the problems such a project would present for the town. “As a local business owner, I’m sure you can appreciate the importance of preserving the character of Wishful and preventing the uncontrolled urban sprawl that would inevitably follow should GrandGoods be allowed to go ahead with their project. That’s why we’d like to invite you to come to the citizens’ coalition meeting next week, to be a part of the community’s voice in letting the local policy-makers know that this isn’t the direction Wishful should go.”
“No.”
Cam caught the momentary stunned expression on Norah’s face before she recovered enough to reply. “I can understand how that might be your instinctive response, but surely it would be better to reserve your final decision until after you’ve attended the meeting, heard what others have to say.”
“Young lady, I’m not going to join your coalition. I will, in fact, be first in line to submit a bid for the GrandGoods contract. I support the growth of commercial real estate such a store would bring to town.”
“Aren’t you the least bit concerned about the negative impact—”
Burt broke in. “Let me tell you about negative impact. I built this business from the ground up. Over the last twenty-five years, I’ve expanded my operations, my crew. And with the tanking economy, do you know how many good people I’ve had to let go? Twelve. Not because they did shoddy work or anything wrong but simply because we don’t have the level of work we need to pay them. I’ve had to cut back the hours on dozens more.”
Cam felt his gut clench, thinking again of Roy McKennon’s desperation and wounded pride over the loss of his ability to provide for his family. Here was more of the same.
“I want to hire those men back. I want to protect the jobs of the ones I still have. I have to look out for my employees, for their families. They depend on me for their livelihood, so from my perspective, supporting GrandGoods is the only decision.”
It made sense. Here was that rock and a hard place his mother had warned him about. More people who’d be lost if they couldn’t find work. More of the soul of his town destroyed by a bad economy.
“Do you have any idea the kind of security a job like that would give them? You’ll forgive me if I think that’s a helluva lot more important than some kind of misplaced nostalgia for how this town used to be.”
When Norah looked as if she might try some other tack, Cam sat forward. “We absolutely appreciate your position, Burt. Thanks for hearing us out. We’ll let you get back to your day.”
Cam recognized the mutinous expression in Norah’s eyes as he said their goodbyes and herded her toward the door, but she kept her mouth shut until they were shut inside his truck again.
“What the hell was that?”
“A tactical retreat. You weren’t going to change his mind.”
“You don’t know that. You didn’t even let me try to counter his position.”
“No. Because we shouldn’t try to counter his position, Norah. Absolutely nothing we can say or do is going to provide the kind of work opportunities he needs to be able to offer his employees. He’s right. From his standpoint, GrandGoods and everything that comes with it is exactly what his business needs.”
Norah exhaled long and slow. “Okay, fair point. He’s not the right target audience for this message. We aren’t going to convince everybody, and that’s okay.”
“Is it? Is it really okay to the twenty percent of our population who are unemployed? What we’re doing isn’t helping them. Do we even have the right to be pushing to stop this?”
She laid a hand on his arm. “No decision is going to make everyone happy.”
He looked down at her fingers, slim and delicate. “Yeah, you specialize in those, don’t you.”
When she pulled her hand away, he bit back a curse. He knew this wasn’t easy on her either, could see the strain she was under. But, of course, she didn’t actually respond to his jab. The matter was already settled in her mind.
“You have to look at the bigger picture, at the long-term impacts, to determine what’s best for the majority.”
Were they still talking about the town?
“Seems like looking out for the majority still means the minority gets shit on.”
“Campbell, you can’t save everybody. Not all at once. Just because what we’re trying to do isn’t the right thing for some people doesn’t mean that we’re wrong or that we should stop. The alternative means that the minority gets bigger. You’re maybe too close to this. That minority is personal for you, people you know, people you care about. And I know it hurts you that you can’t fix it for them because that’s how you’re built. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But I think, in this case, it’s making this whole situation harder on you than it might otherwise be.”
He could see her point, but that did nothing to assuage the guilt that had dogged him since his encounter with April and Roy McKennon.
“Maybe I should do the rest on my own.”
He wanted to let her. To just walk away from the torture of having her right there and yet completely out of reach. But she’d been right about one thing. This was about more than them. If she was going to go, then he had to at least save the town she was leaving behind.
“No. I said I’d help with this part. And you’re right, we can’t please everybody. It’s just…hard coming up against completely reasonable opposition.”
“I know.” She shoved the legal pad into her briefcase. “Let’s take a break and get some lunch before we pick back up with the rest of the list. I bet Mama Pearl has a pie that’s a cure-all for personal guilt crises.”
Because he knew an olive branch when he heard one, Cam forced a smile. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”