Please let this be nearly over. Cam sent up the prayer as he pulled open the door to Edison Hardware and stepped inside to continue the petition tally. It was almost time for lunch, and he’d already been by half of the businesses on his list. Aunt Liz and Uncle Pete were doing the others. Avery had been keeping a running tally as they went, and they were close. So close. If the total tipped over their threshold, they’d be spending the next several hours validating that each one was a registered voter. If they didn’t get the numbers today, they were out of time.
Tyler stood at the counter, her ponytail pulled through the back of the fire engine red YES cap that matched his. She looked up as he came in and one corner of her mouth curved up. “Hey Councilman, Mr. Cleese here wants to know if signing the petition will decrease his chances of getting called up for jury duty, seeing as it’s kind of a civil service.”
“Well now, that’s something to consider. But I reckon you’d have to take that up with Judge Carpenter.” Might as well foist the responsibility for that decision off on somebody else.
Mr. Cleese rubbed the tip of his bulbous nose. “Y’all should check on that. It’d be a real incentive for folks.”
“We’ll take that under advisement. In the meantime, how about you join the ranks of other fine citizens of Wishful and add your name to the petition?”
After some further hemming and hawing and additional suggestions that were completely out of Cam’s power as a city representative, Cleese finally signed the petition.
“Thanks for your support, Mr. Cleese. Here’s your sticker.” Tyler reached out and plastered the YES: I signed badge on the old man’s shirt pocket. “You be sure to tell your friends up at Bingo Night.”
Cam peeked over to check the petition numbers and texted the total to Avery.
“I thought about adding a suggestion box,” Tyler said as the door swung shut.
“Been getting a lot of quid pro quo kinda ideas, have we?”
“A fair number. None actually actionable, I don’t think.” She leaned back against the counter and crossed her legs. “How are the numbers looking?”
“Overall good. We picked up eleven at No Sweat. Fifteen more at Brides and Belles. Only six at Sanderson’s. But it’s slowing down to dribs and drabs. Everybody’s reporting the same kind of thing. They keep running into people who’ve already been hit up. I’m not sure how to get beyond that crowd without going door to door.”
Tyler pursed her lips. “I heard you spent a fair chunk of time talking to Rosanna Sanderson this morning.”
Cam sent her a flat stare. “And who exactly is keeping tabs on how long I’m spending in local businesses?”
“You know perfectly well Cassie can see the door to Sanderson’s from The Grind.”
“So? She was on my list, same as you and Cassie and more than a dozen other businesses.”
“Half an hour just seems like a long time to spend checking on six signatures in a jewelry store.”
“Any angler knows you’ve gotta put out better bait if you wanna catch bigger fish.”
Tyler grinned at him. “Does that mean there’s a bigger fish to catch?”
“If there was, do you think I’d be dumb enough to confirm it? I’m well aware of the state of gossip in this town. Cassie’s looking for something to scoop Mama Pearl on, and I am not gonna be it.”
“I’m not hearing denials.”
“You’re not hearing squat.” Cam shoved open the door. “I’ll keep you posted about the signature total. As soon as Avery notifies us we’ve got enough, I’ll be back by to pick up the pages for signature verification.”
“I’ll be here. And Cam?”
He paused, looking back at his lifelong friend.
“I’m glad she’s back.”
“So am I.”
Cam made quick stops at Lickety Split and Inglenook before finally working around to Dinner Belles, where Norah had turned a corner booth into an impromptu command center. Against one wall was a markerboard showing the running tally of signatures. Norah herself hunched over a map of the city that showed the individual Council wards, with two others in street team gear. She, too, wore a YES cap, and with the braid in her hair, she looked about eighteen. At least until she started giving out orders like a five star general.
“Mamie, you hit up the senior center. They’re all of a generation where voting actually meant something, so they’re probably registered. They just aren’t necessarily super mobile and coming into town.”
Mamie saluted. “That’s a fabulous idea. Autumn, you should come with me.” She turned back to Norah. “Autumn’s the head librarian. She volunteers at the center once a week. The seniors just love her.”
“Do it. We need every asset we’ve got.”
The pair of them headed for the door, flashing cheerful smiles at Cam on their way out.
Cam joined Norah at her booth. “Where’s your walkie talkie?”
“Don’t tempt me. I’ll make you hunt some down for me. You know Cassie would be all over that.”
Thinking about what else Cassie was all over, Cam shot a quick glance at Mama Pearl. Yep. She was giving him a Look.
Jesus.
As if he’d be stupid enough to buy the ring here where anybody and their brother could see and talk about it. Rosanna had just wanted to tell him about her daughter Rory’s decision to pursue landscape architecture in college and ask about graduate school suggestions. But that didn’t make for good gossip.
“Are those the updated totals?” He nodded to the board behind her.
“Yeah, Avery already copied me on the numbers you sent. We’re two hundred signatures in the hole. I’d like to get at least another hundred for padding, just in case we had a fair chunk of non-registered voters signing.”
He gave her the same update he’d given Tyler. “Every business in the coalition has about maxed out its customer base. We’re running short of places to corner people. Without some kind of captive audience, I’m afraid the only thing we’ve got left is going door to door.”
Norah’s eyes narrowed with speculation. “Captive audience…”
“I wasn’t actually suggesting we hold people hostage.”
“We don’t have to. Circumstance already does.” With quick, efficient moves, she folded the map and shoved it into her bag, along with the rest of her stuff, before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Come on.”
“What about your board?”
“Mama Pearl will keep it updated.” She pushed out onto the sidewalk and hit the ground at what he thought of as city speed. Woman on a mission.
“Where are we going?”
“Sweet Magnolias.”
“Do I get to eat when we get there? Because I think my stomach is trying to devour itself.”
“You can scarf while we work. How long do you have before you have to head back to the nursery?”
“Until about three.”
“We need more people.” She whipped out her phone and made a series of calls, requesting backup at Sweet Magnolias.
Cam shook his head, holding in a chuckle. Backup. God he loved this woman. Knowing she’d tell him what was up her sleeve when she was good and ready, he just kept walking.
The bakery smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, with a side of sweet cream butter. Or maybe that was icing. Cam started drooling the moment he walked inside.
On the other side of the counter, Carolanne wore her YES cap backward as she piped pink icing on a cake. “Be with you in a jiff,” she called, not looking up.
Norah peered into the display cases, the wheels clearly turning. Cam wasn’t sure if she was picking out lunch or plotting world domination. These days, it could kinda go either way. There’d been no further updates on the lawsuit, and she’d effectively compartmentalized so that all her focus was on the petition drive.
Carolanne finished the rim of tiny pink roses around the edge of the cake and finally looked up. “Well, hey y’all. Are you here to check my petition sheets? I’m afraid I don’t have too many new signatures.”
“I had something else in mind,” Norah told her. “We need to make up sample trays of everything you’ve got on sale today.”
“We do? Why?”
“We’re turning a negative into a positive. Y’all can’t fix the stoplight, so we’re taking advantage of our semi-captive audience to hand out pastry samples from Sweet Magnolias, along with information about the petition. So that’s advertising for you, getting the word out for us, and linking the whole thing to positive reinforcement with sugar.”
“It certainly sounds good.” Carolanne put the bag of icing aside. “I’ll pull together some trays.”
“Are you picky about having people in your space or can I come help?”
“Come on back and wash your hands.”
There wasn’t room behind the counter for a third person, so Cam stood to the side and felt like a useless dolt as the two women spun and cut and made up trays in what seemed like two minutes flat.
“There. Those look amazing.” Norah bit into a piece of scone and moaned. “If this takes off, you should consider baking cute little sample size stuff and doing it on a regular basis.”
“I wish I’d thought of it before.”
Cam snatched a piece of blueberry muffin and popped it into his mouth, pausing for a moment of reverence as the sweet tart flavor melted on his tongue. “So exactly how are we going to do this?”
“Watch and learn, Leonidas.” Norah hefted a tray, plastered on a beauty queen smile that would do Barbie proud, and pushed out the door.
Cam followed, clipboard in hand, as she approached a woman in a minivan at the head of the line waiting at the stoplight. After a moment’s hesitation, the woman rolled down her window.
“Hi! Can I offer you a sample from Sweet Magnolias Bakery? We’ve got blueberry muffins and orange cranberry scones this afternoon.”
“Sure, thanks.” The woman plucked a piece of scone from the tray.
As she bit into it, Norah went in for the kill. “We’re also looking for signatures on our petition. Are you aware that GrandGoods intends to build a store out by Hope Springs?”
Mouth full, the woman nodded.
“We feel that’s too important an issue not to be a full popular vote. We’re collecting signatures to overturn the City Council decision and make it a public referendum. Are you registered to vote in Wishful?” At the next nod, Norah smiled broadly and offered the clipboard. “Can we count on your support?”
After another brief hesitation, the woman shrugged and took the petition.
Norah took the clipboard back. “Thanks so much! And won’t you try the blueberry muffins too? They’re delicious.”
Norah bid her a good day and moved on to the next vehicle. Cam watched her repeat the routine twice more before the light changed—Christ, he hadn’t truly realized it was this bad—getting signatures from one and stepping back onto the sidewalk as they drove on their merry way.
“Two out of three isn’t bad.”
“The third one isn’t registered to vote in this county.” Seeing their reinforcements arriving, she handed him a tray and shoved the petition clipboard into his chest. “You have dimples, sugar. Go use ’em for the cause.”
Cam went to work, while Norah trained their backup on the spiel. They fell into a rhythm, going out in pairs, seldom coming in with fewer than two signatures, sometimes more. Between turns, Cam managed to nab a ham and cheese croissant and some coffee. Not exactly the lunch of champions, but it would tide him over. As the lunch hour ended and bled into early afternoon, traffic slowed. Grabbing a freshly refilled tray of margarita cupcakes and strawberry danish, Cam stepped out for his next round.
Only one car had pulled up to the light, an aging Civic with a driver that might as well have sported a T-shirt screaming Not from around here. Mid-twenties, with square rim, Hipster glasses, he had city written all over him. Not a registered voter in Wachoxee County. But this wasn’t just about the petition, so he stepped up anyway and smiled.
“Afternoon. Can I offer you a sample from Sweet Magnolias Bakery? We’ve got cupcakes and danish.”
“Oooo, gimme. I’m starving.” A dark-haired girl leaned over from the passenger seat and reached for a cupcake.
Cam froze as recognition set in. “You’re Cecily.”
She looked up, surprised. “I am…and I know I would remember if I’d met you.”
“No, we’ve never met. I’m—” The guy who followed your former boss to Chicago and stood around like some kind of creepy stalker listening to your conversation. Yeah, no. Not the way to introduce himself.
Now Cecily’s eyes were narrowed in speculation. “You’re a Campbell. You resemble Mitch.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re Norah’s Campbell!”
That sounded a lot better.
“I am. Cam Crawford.”
“And I’m Christoff Bergen,” the driver said. “Does somebody want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m guessing you’re here looking for Norah. If you’ll pull off and park around the corner there, she’s just inside the bakery.”
Cecily took a bite of cupcake. “I’d say that’s kismet.”
~*~
Norah turned and nearly dropped the tray full of pastries in her hands, as she watched her former personal assistant walk through the door, trailed by Cecily. “What are you doing here?”
“Now is that any way to greet your loyal minions?” Christoff asked.
“I’m in shock.” She hastily set down the tray and opened her arms to pull him in for a hard hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Back atcha, gorgeous.” He pulled back and looked her over with a critical eye. “It seems being back below the Mason-Dixon agrees with you. Or maybe it’s this tall drink of water over here.” His gaze shifted to Cam.
Laughing, Norah made introductions.
“Well, you weren’t kidding,” Cecily said.
“I’m telling you, they’ve got good genes in the Campbell family.”
Cam shot her a look. “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not.” Norah grinned. Shifting her attention back to her friends, she asked, “Now seriously, what are you doing here?”
“We come bearing gifts.” Christoff’s Slavic blue eyes sparkled.
“Uh oh. I know that look. What did you do?”
“Nothing that didn’t need doing. If we can find somewhere a little less public to make our reveal?” he suggested, looking around at handful of patrons, who’d decided to stop for a pastry after being lured in by samples.
“I am suddenly very, very afraid.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Christoff slung an arm around her shoulders.
“Upstairs at The Grind?” Cam offered. “Daniel’s on duty. He’ll keep anybody out for you.”
“Us.” Norah grabbed his hand. “You’re coming with. I have a feeling I may need moral support for this.”
Leaving the other recruits in charge of samples and petition duty, the group of them hiked down the street to The Daily Grind.
“Hail our conquering heroes!” Daniel called as they walked inside.
“Don’t count your chickens yet, Danny boy,” Cam told him. “We’ve still got the vote to come.”
“I have faith. What’ll it be?”
“Y’all go ahead and order. I’ll see if it’s clear.” Cam sprinted up the stairs.
Norah requested their usuals, while Cecily and Christoff hemmed and hawed over what to try. Judging by the look of speculation on Christoff’s face, he was thinking he’d take his caramel macchiato with a side of Daniel. When the latter suggested the strawberry hand pie, the calorie conscious Christoff didn’t blink before adding one to his order. Armed with pastries and caffeine, they trooped up to the empty second floor.
“Just tell me one thing before we get started. Are you two in trouble? Is my lawsuit against Helios causing you problems?”
“We are not in trouble,” Cecily assured her.
“But it is causing you problems. Damn it. I didn’t want any of the blowback to hit y’all.”
“Patience, grasshopper.” Christoff clapped his hands together. “So, we all agree that Philip and Pierce are douchecanoes, yes? Yes. They’ve gone to great lengths to smear your name, making claims about your behavior that Cecily and I know you didn’t actually do. And anybody with a brain at Helios knows you didn’t either. Even the people who are claiming to know are just lazy and jealous of your success.”
“This is all old ground. It’s part of why the lawsuit is stalling out. There’s no way to prove one way or the other.”
“Yeah, about that,” Cecily hedged.
“Oh God…”
“Christoff and I concocted a plan.” She pulled out a laptop and turned it on.
“You know Adam in IT?” Christoff asked.
“The one with the dimples and great abs.”
“Stupendously fabulous abs. Well, I sweet talked him into setting up the webcams in Pierce’s office where we could record remotely, whenever we wanted.”
Feeling vaguely queasy, she asked, “You were spying on Pierce?”
“Not exactly,” Cecily said. “So Pierce…kind of has a history of making passes at me.”
Norah barely trusted herself to speak. “He what?”
“Not, like, serious passes. Not while you were together. Just…vaguely suggestive flirting. He didn’t make any real passes until after y’all were split.”
“The question of Pierce’s fidelity is fairly far down the totem pole of sleaze. But if he sexually harassed you, I’ll castrate him myself.”
Cecily held up a hand. “Not necessary.” With a few more keystrokes she opened a file. “You remember how I told you I have a background in theater?”
“Yeah…” Where was she going with this?
“Well, keep that in mind.” She turned the computer around and hit play.
The screen was abruptly filled with Pierce, seated at his desk, staring at something on the dual monitors. Paperwork was spread out before him. Projections for some campaign or other. His hair was messy instead of artfully rumpled, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. The sleek silk tie was loose, his collar unbuttoned. He looked, for the first time Norah could remember, frazzled. That pleased her far more than it should have.
The timestamp in the corner showed it was well after closing when the knock came on his door.
“It’s open.”
“I have those reports you asked for, Mr. Vargas.”
Pierce swiveled away from the monitors to face Cecily, schooling his face into the confident smile that had won more than one account. “Thanks Cecily. You’re a lifesaver.”
As the door shut, the view shifted to that from the other monitor. Cecily hesitated as she handed over the files, studying him. “You’re working too hard.”
“Nature of the beast. It’s always rough transitioning new members to the team.”
“Shouldn’t Matthew be transitioned by now?” She perched on the corner of his desk, and his eyes followed the rise of her hemline.
“Well, one would hope. I’m afraid Norah spoiled us.”
Cecily laid a hand over his. “It must be doubly hard on you, losing your partner and your girlfriend. You were such a good team.”
For just a second, something like remorse flickered over his face. “Yeah, we were.”
“You’ve been so busy picking up the slack, I’m sure you haven’t had any chance to even think about yourself and your life outside the company.” She edged around the desk, into his space.
Pierce watched her, his eyes sharpening. “Not so much.”
“Must be lonely.”
“I do find I could do with some company.”
She reached out and fingered his tie. “You’d probably work much more efficiently with some stress relief.”
And Pierce, damn him, laid a hand on the length of thigh bared by her too short skirt. “Undoubtedly. But I thought you weren’t interested.”
“I was never not interested. But you weren’t available before. And then I thought you needed some time on your own. A girl’s gotta be sensible, even with a catch as…impressive as you. Besides, I wasn’t even sure I was your type.” She jerked a shoulder in lazy shrug that caused the neckline of her blouse to gape.
Pierce’s eyes immediately went to the hint of lace beneath and his hand began to knead at her thigh. “Brunette and brilliant? You’re absolutely my type.”
“I also had to figure out if you were my type.”
“And what type is that?”
With a half smile, she grabbed the tie and began to work it lose on every word. “Sexy, handsome, powerful.” Tugging him forward until his mouth almost met hers. “A hint of bad boy.” She pulled the tie loose and tossed it behind her, nudging him back in his chair.
“Bad boy, huh?”
“Mmm yeah. I’ve got that fantasy. Lots of girls do.” Cecily ran one foot up the inside of his thigh to stroke him through his pants. Pierce jerked, his hands tightening on the arms of his chair.
Smiling and in complete control, Cecily moved forward to straddle him. “The bad ones really turn me on. Especially the really smart bad ones. And I have a feeling that you’re one of the exceptionally clever bad boys.” She leaned into him and whispered something in his ear that had his hands tightening on her ass, pressing her closer.
“Tell me how bad you really are, Pierce. I can make it really good for you.”
“I’m amazing at taking companies with bad press and making the public love them.”
Cecily made a moue of disappointment. “I already know that. Tell me something I don’t know. Tell me a secret.”
He started talking, mentioning different accounts and clients he’d worked with, who he’d snowed, how. Cecily proceeded to gradually undress him, touching, stroking, arousing with each secret he revealed.
Norah felt sick.
“I was always jealous Norah got to do those things with you. It’s so freaking hot.”
“Norah didn’t have the stones for it. She was such a Pollyanna, thinking she could be a success in this business being nice. That naive goodness has its place and it totally worked for certain clients, but she never stepped a toe out of line. Not like you. Jesus, Cecily, the things we could do together.” He kissed his way down her throat and the camera caught her eye roll.
“But what about all those allegations of professional misconduct your dad made?”
Down to his boxers, Pierce lifted her onto the desk, stepped between her thighs and began to pull off her blouse. “Insurance. Revenge. Whatever you wanna call it. He’s pissed that the firm lost a whale of a potential client to her.”
“Really? Who?”
“That big real estate development corporation he’s had Matthew working on. Peyton Consolidated. Out of Denver.”
Oh God, Norah thought. Cecily was right.
Pierce kissed a trail down Cecily’s collarbone, down toward her lace-covered breasts. “Don’t know why the CEO was so hell bent on having Norah. Between that and the other accounts that walked after she left, he had to take drastic measures to protect our remaining client base. What better way to cover our asses than pin it all on her? No way to prove it one way or the other, and we’ve got the strength of the company behind us. What does she have?”
A door burst open. “The word you’re looking for there is loyalty,” Christoff said from off camera. “Show’s over.”
Braced above Cecily, Pierce froze.
“Thanks so much for your cooperation,” she said with an innocent smile, and drove her knee into Pierce’s groin.
He collapsed to the floor with a series of wheezing curses as she stepped away and began calmly buttoning her shirt. “You bitch. I’ll have your job for this. Both of you.” Pierce continued to spew threats and invective as he clutched his crotch and tried to get to his feet.
“Oh no.” Christoff moved into the line of sight and put an arm around Cecily. “If you or your father lay a hand on either of us, physical or otherwise, the video of that confession is set to go live on every video hosting site, SEO optimized for maximum impact. Pretty sure you don’t want any of those clients getting wind of your shenanigans. Now, you’re going to issue a retraction countering every single email or phone call your father sent, denying Norah's involvement and clearing her good name, and you will convince your father to settle the lawsuit with a generous severance package for the shit you put her through. You have forty-eight hours.”
Pierce stared at him, murder in his eye. “Norah would never condone blackmail.”
Christoff’s grin was just a little feral. “Of course she wouldn’t. But thanks to you and your father, she’s not here to stop us, now is she? Believe me, honey, nobody has a finer-tuned sense of revenge than a gay man. You’ll find our resignations on my desk outside. C’mon Cecily.”
The video stopped.
“And sadly, I will not win the Tony Award I so richly deserve for that performance.”
“Maggie the Cat ain’t got nothing on you,” Christoff assured her.
For a few moments, Norah couldn’t speak. “Well, I see that your TaeBo classes paid off.” She loosed a shuddering breath trying to shake off the skeevy sensation along her skin. “That was… I can’t believe…Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Norah started around the table to check Cecily over, as if it had just happened.
“I’m fine. He didn’t do a thing to me that four scalding showers didn’t cure. He didn’t lay a hand on me that you didn’t see.”
“We saw enough,” Norah said.
“The point is, so did he. He did what we asked. Here are copies of the retractions.” Christoff handed over a file.
Norah just set it on the table without looking.
“I’m pretty sure what you did was highly illegal,” Cam observed.
“Our ass is covered. They won’t risk the reputation of the whole firm over this. They’ll settle out of court.”
Cecily took Norah’s hands. “Say something.”
“What you did was reckless, dangerous, unethical…and if it had gone another way, you could’ve faced criminal charges. You shouldn’t have risked that for me. Not to mention that you both lost your jobs over it.”
“Correction, we both quit our jobs over it,” Christoff said. “We figure you were our supervisor and will give us amazing recs when we need them. And that aside, we couldn’t just stand by and let them keep trying to ruin you. You’re worth so much more than that.”
Norah felt her eyes prick with tears. “Y’all, I just can’t even…”
“You should call your attorney,” Cam said.
“I’m afraid to. If any of this comes out, I should probably maintain plausible deniability.”
Christoff checked his watch. “Well we’re closing in on forty-two hours now, so you ought to be hearing from your attorney soon anyway.”
As if conjured by his words, a phone began to ring. She looked to Christoff. “You’re performing voodoo, aren’t you. Making deals with sketchy deities. Crossroads demons?”
Christoff only grinned.
But it was Cam’s phone. “Avery, what’s the update?” He listened for a minute, then nodded. “We’re on it.”
“Problem?” Norah asked.
“Nope.” He broke into a wide grin. “We did it. Forty-eight signatures over our threshold. It’s time to validate.”