To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (41 page)

“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?”