“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.”
“What sort of company is it?”
“Historically, we were in the business of business.” Gerald gave a wry smile. “My daughter likened it to Richard Gere in Pretty Woman before Vivian worked her magic.”
“A chop shop. And now?”
“Now we build.”
“Build what exactly?”
“A little bit of everything. Hotels. Conference centers. And the last few years, we’ve branched into urban renewal and revitalization.”
“And you want…what exactly? A campaign for an upcoming project? A new concept for the overarching company?”
“I want you to come run my marketing department.”
Norah could only blink at him.
“There’s currently a staff of thirty, with the option to expand as the need arises.”
Run an entire marketing department for what had to be a multi-million dollar corporation. Was she dreaming?
“I realize this is coming completely out of left field and you’d need some time to consider it. To research my company. But I think we’d be a great fit for your talents.”
“Mr. Peyton—”
“Gerald, please.”
“Gerald, why me? You’re standing here giving me this amazing offer without even conducting a formal interview.”
“I find that actions speak louder than words. Yours are commendable. You’re driven, intelligent, creative, and you have the kind of moral compass I don’t often see in the business world.”
“Are you aware that I was…dismissed from my last position for that moral compass?” Might as well put that out there.
“That wasn’t how Philip Vargas put it when I called to check up on you.”
Oh God, what did he say? Norah was afraid to ask. “And yet, regardless of whatever he said, you’re here. Why?”
“The picture he tried to paint wasn’t consistent with my own impressions of you, with your actions down here, or with the opinions of any of those other corporations. It’s obvious to me that a great deal of the success Helios has enjoyed over the last five years is a direct result of your work, and Vargas is only realizing that in the wake of your absence. He tried to pretend otherwise when attempting to woo me to hire Helios, but I recognize a cretin when I see one. I made it clear I was interested in you, not in Helios.”
Norah resisted the urge to do a celebratory fist pump at that. “I imagine Philip didn’t take that well.”
“Not so much. It will probably relieve you to know that we do little business in Chicago. Our main offices are based in Denver, with satellites in New York, Atlanta, and London.”
“London?”
“I do a fair bit of business in Europe.” He began walking again. “Now, I’m not sure what your salary was at your prior position, but I’m certain we could come to an agreement.” He named a ballpark starting salary that had her eyebrows winging up. “I realize there are things you would want to tie up here, so start date is flexible, based on your schedule, and we’d cover relocation expenses.”
Relocation.
And just like that, the surreality of the conversation faded and the happy little dream bubble that had been building around her popped.
“Thank you. Not only for the job offer but for your obvious faith in me and my capabilities. Not many people would look past what Philip said. I’m beyond flattered.” What else could she be when someone offered her dream job on a platter?
His blue eyes sharpened. “But?”
“But, I’m committed to saying here, to building something on the foundation I started.” And somewhere, her father was doing the live person’s version of spinning in his grave.
“With the town or with the guy?”
“I fell in love with them both.” Norah looked around at the bright new face of downtown Wishful. “I have a vision for what this place could be.”
Looking intrigued rather than insulted that she’d turned down his generous offer, Gerald angled his head. “Tell me.”
She had no idea of his background, but he couldn’t run an international company without spending sufficient time in cities that he’d experienced everything she hoped to counter. So she outlined it for him, honing in on all her personal reasons for believing that rural tourism could be a success here. As she spoke, Norah could see that, unlike Cam and the rest of the City Council, Gerald immediately understood her concept.
“There’s a real market for that. It’s a brilliant way to revitalize this town, if you can pull it off.”
“And there’s the kicker. The rest of them aren’t sold on the idea. Yet. But I’m not done researching and working up a full plan either. Conceptually, the project is still in its infancy.”
“It’ll be a lot of work.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work. And I find that what I’ve done here is considerably more rewarding than anything I did for Helios.”
“So you’re going to stay. Really give up the city life?”
She thought of Cam and the family here, so ready to fight for her. “I’m not leaving anything worth keeping.”
Gerald’s smile was sad. “I hope that works out better for you than it did for me.”
Norah wondered if he was talking about the girl he’d loved and lost but didn’t think she had a right to ask.
They’d stopped in front of a sleek, black BMW. “This is me.”
“Thank you for coming down and for the offer.”
Gerald pulled a business card from his coat pocket and handed it over. “The offer stands, should your circumstances change.”
He clearly had more faith in her business capabilities than in the love side of this equation.
Pocketing the card, she bid Gerald farewell. As he drove away, Norah waited for the panic, the second guessing of her impulsive decision. But she felt only a rock-steady certainty that this was where she belonged.
Grinning to herself, she headed for her car. She’d go find Cam and apologize for being distant the last couple of days. Maybe they could go out to Tosca for dinner to celebrate. Because she was going to stay. Really and truly. Better yet, maybe they could get take out from Tosca and celebrate at home.
Her phone rang. She was still smiling when she dug it out and answered.
“Oh thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you for two weeks.”
Her brain took a few moments to shift gears. “Cecily?”
“I was going to email, but I realized I didn’t have your personal email, and your company email was already blitzed from the system, and—”
Instinctively wanting to soothe the panic, Norah interrupted her former intern. “Cecily, slow down. Take a breath.”
“I’ve been calling, but you haven’t answered. I couldn’t even get voicemail!”
Norah realized she’d never unblocked the Chicago area codes. Too late she wondered if Philip had taken any of his frustrations out on her staff. “You’ve got me now. What’s going on?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you so you could do damage control.”
A sick feeling began to brew in the pit of her stomach. “Damage control for what?”
“For Philip. He blackballed you.”
~*~
The loft was empty when Cam got home. Hush raced inside, making a beeline for the back, then coming back looking confused when she didn’t find Norah hiding in the bathroom.
“I know, girl. I miss her, too.”
Since the Council decision, Norah had withdrawn into a funk. Cam was working hard not to take the distance personally. Miranda assured him she was just licking her wounds. He was willing to bet Norah had spent at least twenty-four hours afterward wracking her brain for something else to do, some last stand. Given the email she’d sent out to the coalition, she hadn’t found it. And that had just led to more silence. The little voice that nudged at him, wondering if she had regrets, if she was going to run, had been silenced by a lot of hard, sweaty labor.
It hurt him that she was so hard on herself. How the hell did anybody make it this far through life without having failed at something? Without being able to accept that sometimes your best wasn’t good enough, and it wasn’t the end of the world? And it wasn’t just a matter of perception on Norah’s part. Her track record was irrefutable. She’d more than earned the nickname he’d initially given her in jest.
No amount of logic on his part was going to make her believe she hadn’t failed. So Cam figured some redirection was in order. He wanted to focus on the positive to come out of this whole mess—Norah was here. She was staying. And he wanted to take a step forward with their relationship now that every waking second wasn’t full of GrandGoods. At least it shouldn’t be.
But what step?
For all that he thought they were on the same page, Cam didn’t want to scare her off by pushing too far, too fast. It was hard, so hard, to hang on to his patience since she’d finally admitted she wanted to stay and he began to let himself think of their future. After so many years of waiting for her, he was eager to get started.
She already had a key to his place. That had just been expedience. She’d needed workspace and it was easier to trade off Hush duty. Cam loved having her in his space, loved seeing her dainty girl shoes lined up neatly next to his work boots, loved, too, the myriad of little reminders that she was in his life—like her pens and the favorite wine he kept stocked just for her.
Would asking her to move in scare her off? Would she recognize what he was really saying?
Norah, I love you.
She had to know. It was in every look, every action, every touch. But he hadn’t given her the words. Maybe he should just start with that, see where they took him.
As if conjured by his thoughts, she popped up on the caller ID.
“Hey Wonder Woman. I was just thinking about you. Ready to come out of your cave?”
In the beat of hesitation before she answered, Cam felt the tension reach out and grab him by the throat.
“Hey.” Her voice was hoarse. As if she’d been talking for hours. Or crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got a call today from my intern—former intern—at Helios.”
No. Oh no. Surely, surely they hadn’t called to win her back.
“It seems that despite my complete and total absence from Chicago and the entire professional marketing scene, despite the fact that I said nothing about the ethics violations Pierce engaged in to anyone outside your family and mine, Philip decided to hedge his bets and started a smear campaign against me. Two weeks ago. Which I knew nothing about because I completely unplugged from my professional life and have been hiding out in Mississippi. Two weeks, Cam, for all these vicious rumors to circulate without rebuttal or challenge.”
Shit. He didn’t know what to say. “How bad?”
“Bad. As in my entire professional reputation hangs in the balance bad. As in, I’m going to sue his ass for libel and slander and whatever else my attorney can come up with bad.”
“Jesus.” Cam scrubbed a hand over his face. Like she hadn’t had enough to cope with. “Look, come over, or I’ll come over there and we’ll talk through this. Figure out what to do next.”
There was another beat of silence.
“I’m already halfway back to Chicago.”
Which meant she’d been gone for more than half the day and she’d only just now called him. Cam absorbed that. Her professional life was falling apart, and she hadn’t looped him in on this until now. She’d gotten in her car and fucking left town without a word to him that she was going.
What else wasn’t she saying?
He held on to his temper. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have gone with you.”
“I didn’t even think to tell you. I was just so angry, I had to act.”
They were supposed to be in a relationship and she didn’t think to tell him about this huge thing that happened in her life. Didn’t come to him for comfort. Didn’t come to him for anything.
The silence between them stretched, grew gawky and strange.
“I’ve been on the phone with my attorney and various other people, trying to find out the extent of the damage.”
And this is where he fell in her priority list. Dead last. Or damned close to it.
“When will you be back?” Because they sure as shit needed to talk about this, and he wasn’t going to do it from five states away.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure how long it will take to straighten all this out. But I have to see this through. My professional reputation is all I have left.”
She had him, but clearly she didn’t count that on her list.
“I should know more after I meet with my attorney tomorrow. I’ll call you after.”
“Yeah, okay. Drive safe.”
He hung up and sat in silence, the phone all but crushed in his hand. A neat stack of her legal pads and multi-colored Post-it notes were arranged on the coffee table in front of him. The throw she’d adopted because he kept it frigid during the winter lay abandoned in the armchair, as if she’d just gotten up to pour a cup of coffee. Signs of her were everywhere. And yet after that three minute conversation, his house felt empty.
Hush, sensing his mood, laid her head on his knee and whined. Cam curled his fingers in her ruff and bent to press his brow to hers.
“Looks like we’re on our own for a while, girl.”
Hush whined again.
Cam sat up. “You know what? Screw this.”
She followed him as he stalked back to his room and began to pack a bag. “We’re going for a drive.”