To Get Me to You

by Kait Nolan

  The dot turned out to be Starbucks. Cam was so chilled by the time he reached it, he was actually glad to see even chain coffee. The place was packed when he stepped inside. A double line snaked back from the counter, past the door where he stood, so he edged aside to get out of the way and began to scan the room for Norah. Voices chattered around him, clipped and rapid, almost like typewriter speech. What the hell was their hurry?

  His own urgency seemed to hit slow-mo and melt away as he finally caught sight of Norah just past the station with the cream and sugar. Her back was to him, but he knew that fall of hair, that slope of shoulder. The sight of her neat stack of notepads and a row of colored pens had him smiling despite the bone-deep weariness. She sat with another woman, slightly younger. The intern?

  Cam made his way over, hampered by the line of people waiting to doctor their coffee. Too tired to be pushy, he just waited, edging closer as he could, until he could hear her talking. God it was good to hear her voice.

  “I’m nothing but impressed with what Peyton Consolidated has accomplished. It’s an incredible opportunity.”

  “I’ll say. Particularly in light of the lawsuit. People have long memories for scandal. That’d be less likely to touch you out in Denver. So to have the chance at a position like that with a billion dollar corporation… Are you going to take it?”

  “It’s essentially my dream job on a platter. I’d be a fool not to.”

  Cam felt her words like a physical blow. Every drop of pleasure at seeing her after his long trip, evaporated. The blood in his ears began to roar, drowning out whatever Norah’s companion replied.

  It’s my dream job on a platter. I’d be a fool not to take it.

  Everything thing they’d been through. Everything she’d told him. Everything she’d promised. And in the end, she was choosing the job over him. Like her mother. Like Melody. Like his father.

  She tried to warn you, he thought. Everybody tried to warn you that this wouldn’t work. But you just couldn’t leave it alone. Because you’re some kind of goddamned masochist.

  Sick and a little dizzy, he turned and walked back into the cold, heading back to his truck and his dog and the life that was, it seemed, too small for everyone who’d ever mattered to him.

  There was nothing to say after all.

  ~*~

  The lights of Denver glittered against a sky fading from fire to night above the line of mountains beyond the city. Norah saw none of it as she stood at her hotel room window and listened as her call to Cam rang through to voicemail. Again.

  He’d been dodging her calls for three days. She’d gotten one terse email.

  Been working a lot, catching up on all the stuff I let slide while we were working the GrandGoods campaign. Plus it’s warming up, so the season’s starting. Everybody’s thinking about perking up their yards now that we’re mostly past the threat of frost. Keeping busy and holding down the fort.

  No endearments. No questions about how the lawsuit was going. Not even a When are you coming home? Which was probably just as well, since she had no idea how to answer.

  Norah didn’t know what to do with the distance that yawned between them, so much more than the physical miles. Hurt and confused, she desperately wanted to talk to him, to have his support through the nightmare of this case. Was he still angry about how she’d left? She couldn’t undo that and she’d apologized, so what did he want from her? Because that was a conversation best left for in person, she didn’t try to broach the subject. Instead she just said, “It’s me. I really miss you. Please call me.”

  Dropping the phone into her clutch, she did her best to clear her mind and settle her nerves for this dinner with Gerald Peyton. What she’d come out here to do absolutely adhered to her family’s mantra of “Go big or go home.” It was a risk, a big one. She might be blowing up her last bridge to traditional gainful employment in her field of choice. But Wishful was counting on her, so she had to try.

  He was waiting in the lobby when she came down. His shirt, open at the collar, and the sport coat and khakis, hit somewhere between the casual first impression and boardroom dominator who’d offered her the running of his marketing department. He was a man at ease with himself and his surroundings.

  “Miss Burke. It’s good to see you again.”

  Norah shook his offered hand. “And you.”

  Gerald gestured after you. “Shall we?”

  She followed him out to a late model Land Rover. They chatted about inconsequential things, and Norah tried to pay some attention to the city as they wove through its streets. He pointed out features of interest, shared little bits of local history. She found herself relaxing by the time they made it to the restaurant.

  Gerald waited until they’d ordered entrees and received their drinks before leaning forward, both elbows on the table, and steepling his fingers. “I have to confess, I was very surprised to get your call. But very pleased to have you here. Have you changed your mind about my offer?”

  A fleeting thought of Cam and whatever lay so very wrong between them passed like a shadow through her mind, but she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I actually have other business to discuss with you.”

  He smiled, a kind of secretive chess player’s smile, and picked up his wine. “I make it a policy never to discuss business until dessert.”

  Inclining her head in acquiescence, Norah settled in to play the game of calculated Get To Know You.

  “So, if I remember from our last conversation, you have a daughter?”

  “Mmm. Tess. She’s twenty-four and an absolute ball-buster. You remind me of her a bit.”

  “I’m sure my parents would be perfectly horrified to hear me described that way. They worked so hard to make sure I was polite and politically correct. I, on the other hand, take that as a compliment.”

  Gerald’s lips curved as he sipped his Cabernet. “Joe always did worry too much about that crap.”

  That set Norah back in her chair. “You know my father?” Did she owe this miraculous job opportunity to her dad pulling strings?

  “Knew. We were at Ole Miss together. But he was a senior when I was a freshman, so we weren’t exactly buddy-buddy. I remember him more from some of the campus organizations we were both in. I doubt he remembers me.”

  “So you did undergrad at Ole Miss.”

  “A couple years. I transferred out to University of Washington and finished there.”

  “That’s a big jump.”

  “I needed a change.”

  “Because of her? The girl you loved from Wishful?” The words were out before she could think better of it. She held up a hand in apology. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. Forget I asked.”

  Gerald shot her an assessing look. “It’s a fair question since I mentioned her to you in the first place. Yes, I transferred because of her.”

  “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  He swirled the wine in his glass. “I haven’t talked about this in years.”

  Norah noted he said talked, not thought.

  “I’m from Memphis originally. Went down to Ole Miss, and sophomore year I met a girl, as you do. Except the girl was already married to her high school sweetheart.”

  “That must’ve been hard.”

  “I chalked it up to bad luck or crap timing that we should be great friends and that’s all. But I was happy to have that instead of nothing, so I kept spending time with her. Nothing happened. We were just friends. At least I assumed that’s all that was on her side.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “It wasn’t. Her husband had joined a fraternity, gotten really into that scene, which wasn’t any more compatible with marriage back then than it is now. She was growing up and he was…acting like a typical unmarried freshman pledge. One night, he got hideously drunk at a party and wouldn’t give her the keys. So she called me to come get her.

  “It was really late, and we didn’t think it would look right if I dropped her off b
ack at their apartment. So we just…drove around for hours, talking. We’d always been able to talk to each other, but this was different. More personal. Hopes, dreams, confessions kind of stuff. She admitted she was unhappy in her marriage. And she…said she wished she’d waited for me.”

  Norah noted the ripple under the calm surface. “That’s a lot to put on a friend.”

  The arrival of their food interrupted the story, and she found herself wishing the waiter away so Gerald would continue.

  Once they were alone again, she leaned forward. “So what happened?”

  “I don’t think she meant to say it. We were in that kind of dazed, drunk place you get when you’ve been up all night. But she said it, and she was just looking at me with these big hazel eyes, and I just—well, I’m not a saint. I kissed her. And she kissed me back.”

  Gerald fell into the thick silence of memory. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his hands tightening on his fork. Eventually, he shook himself. “Anyway, long story short, she decided to leave him. Divorce wasn’t quite as common back then, but it wasn’t unheard of. And she was going to do it. For me. We waited until summer so she’d be able to file the paperwork and get out, have a few months for the dust to settle. I wanted to meet her at the fountain, but she didn’t know how long it might take, and since Wishful’s a small town, she didn’t want anybody to put two and two together. So we were supposed to meet at the Hoka. It was kind of our place.”

  “What on earth is the Hoka?”

  “It was a movie theater in Oxford. Artsy, indie stuff. Used to be an old cotton warehouse. It’s gone now, but it was downtown, kind of in The Gin’s parking lot. Neither of us were really into indie movies, so it gave us somewhere to go to talk. Their cafe used to have the best cheesecake.” He smiled a little at the memory.

  “So you waited.”

  “I did. I waited for hours, past closing time, but she didn’t come. I got worried that her husband had stopped her. He’d never been violent before, but… I drove to Wishful. Went by her house. And I saw them in the front window. She looked nervous, so serious. I thought, for sure, she was telling him then, that she’d just been delayed somehow. And I was ready to run in and get her out, be her get away driver. But he didn’t look angry. He looked…shocked. And then happy. And then he was kissing her, holding her, and they were laughing.” Gerald’s voice trailed off. His mouth tightened as his attention focused on his steak. “She made her choice, and it wasn’t me. I couldn’t stay at Ole Miss after that.”

  Norah’s heart hurt for him. To love someone so out of reach and think you had a shot, only to have it taken away. “I don’t blame you. Do you know what happened to her?”

  He shook his head. “I moved on. Met my wife, built a life.”

  “Got divorced?”

  Gerald glanced at her in surprise.

  “No wedding ring.”

  He flexed his left hand and looked at it for a moment, before turning his attention back to her. “About ten years now.”

  “She stuck with you, that first love.”

  “First loves are like that.” Shoving away his half-eaten steak, he said, “How about you tell me what else that busy brain of yours has come up with since we last talked?”

  Realizing the subject of the personal was closed, she complied. “I have an investment opportunity for you. Something that will, I think, fit with your desire to build something that lasts, leave your mark in ways that are more personal than how you initially grew your company.”

  “I’m listening.”

  They talked business for more than an hour, with Norah giving him a more far more detailed description of her plan to promote rural tourism in Wishful than the sketch she’d given him in their last conversation, breaking things down into logical phases. He asked good questions, made some suggestions that had her revising some of those phases in accordance with potential areas of investment by Peyton Consolidated. Unlike the hurried presentation she’d given the City Council, this was shaping up to be a legitimate enterprise.

  “So you’ve piggy backed on the concepts we used for the urban renewal we’ve done and adapted it for a rural market. That’s a smart tactic for sliding the concept by me.”

  “You wouldn’t have offered me a job if I wasn’t smart.”

  He flashed a smile that had her, for a moment, seeing the young man he used to be. “True enough. You’ve snagged my interest, Norah. I love the idea. In fact, I’ve got some contacts in another little town a couple hours away. Balenmore. We have a ski lodge near there, and it happens they’ve done a lot on the rural tourism front. I think they’d be good people to talk to. Can you stay a few more days? Make the trip up?”

  “Of course.” Rather than the victory boogie she wanted to make, Norah took a big bite of her chocolate mousse.

  “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  She finished her dessert while he typed out a message on his phone, presumably to his assistant. When the man decided to move on something, he didn’t waste time.

  “I should be able to let you know the details by morning in time for you to check out here.”

  “Perfect. Will you tell me something?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Does this woman you loved have something to do with why you’re considering my plan?”

  “I’m considering your plan because I think it’s a good investment. And because you’re damned good at persuasion, which is why I want you to run my marketing department. I haven’t given up hope of wooing you.” The smile he shot her was calculated to be disarming.

  She didn’t miss his sidestep. “I’m good, but you didn’t get to be CEO of a billion dollar corporation by being easily led. There are other investments, other places you could do this that would bring you more profit.”

  “Your point?”

  “You wanted to make things better for her back then. I think you still want to make things better for her, in case she’s still there.”

  He said nothing for a long moment. “You have a romantic’s heart, Miss Burke. I hope life lets you keep it.”

  Chapter 20

  “Uh, Cam?”

  Cam stabbed his shovel into the pile of mulch and flung it into the newly planted bed before turning to Steve. “Yeah?”

  “It’s five-thirty.”

  Cam looked reflexively at the horizon, registering the bleed of colors and the fading light. His crew should’ve knocked off half an hour ago.

  “You want us to start clearing up?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. I wasn’t watching the time. Y’all go ahead and take the gear back to the nursery, check in with Violet. I just wanna finish up mulching this bed.”

  “You want us to help?” Dewey offered. “You’d finish quicker.”

  That was exactly what he didn’t want. “No. I’ve got this. Y’all have families and dinner to get on home to. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His crew exchanged looks but did as they were told. Fifteen minutes later, Cam was alone with the mulch and the lowering sun.

  As a rule, Cam oversaw the initial phase of execution for any of his landscape designs before turning over the final wrap up to his more than capable crew. His duties at the nursery made that a general necessity. But since he got back from Chicago, he’d thrown himself into the physical labor, leaving the running of the nursery to Violet so he could work himself to the bone in an effort not to think. Not that it was helping to distract from the epic hole in his life.

  He hadn’t talked to Norah in four days. He’d spent twenty-eight years of his life without her, and after less than a week away from her, he felt like he was missing a limb. A sensation made all the more unendurable by what he’d overheard.

  She was hurt. That much was obvious in her increasingly shorter messages. And he hated it, hated hearing that pained thread in her voice. But even as he knew it made him a coward, Cam couldn’t bring himself to take her calls. He couldn’t bear to give her a chance to break things off over the phone. If he did
, she might not come back at all. Having to come back to Wishful and talk to him in person might change her mind. It had to change her mind. And yet how could he and his small town compete with the career she’d devoted everything to?

  While she’d been here, it had been easy to see how it could work. After a bumpy start, she’d taken to small town life like a duck to water. The people loved her, and she’d made connections all over town in her work with the coalition. But was it real or had he just been seeing what he wanted to see? She thrived on the challenge. Now that the challenge was over—and unsuccessful—would Wishful still hold appeal? Would he?

  He spread the last of the mulch in near darkness and headed back to the nursery. If he finished the paperwork associated with this job tonight, Violet might not ream him in the morning. Then maybe he’d pick up burgers from Dinner Belles on the drive home as a treat for Hush since she’d been cooped up all day.

  Silence lay thick and heavy in the main building of the nursery, interrupted only by the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights. Cam realized he’d been braced for an ambush by Violet or one of his meddling family members. He knew one was coming at some point. It was their modus operandi. They’d poke and prod and harass him until they got to the bottom of his piss poor mood instead of leaving him alone to stew and think. Since he’d rather cut out his tongue than talk about what was happening with Norah, he’d done everything in his power to avoid all of them. As no one had hunted him down, he could only conclude that Norah hadn’t been talking to any of them either.

  After stowing the last of his equipment and washing at least some of the dirt off in the bathroom sink, Cam holed up in his office to update the inventory and log his hours and those of his crew. Seeing the stack of messages on his desk, he accepted he was going to have to actually come in during business hours tomorrow to deal with the bulk of them. He was calculating how much he could accomplish while Violet took her lunch break, when someone knocked on the outside door.