“Morton.”
“I didn’t know.” Not that saying so made it any better. “Not until my drive back from New York. I tried to stop in and downtown was a ghost town. So I asked one of the locals what happened. Hugo’s came in and violated pretty much every selling point I’d used to get them into the community. As soon as I saw what happened, I went straight to the office and dug into the old files. And it was all there. Helios was working as an extension of Hugo’s marketing and sales team, as a third party. My partner did the due diligence—that was his job as Market Research Director—and he didn’t bother to share the facts and the bad publicity the company had gotten elsewhere because he didn’t want my inconvenient moral compass to get in the way of closing the deal. I wasn’t on the development team. They just brought me in at the end to do the pitch to Morton for Hugo’s because closing the deal is my specialty, and I have a gift for bringing creative campaigns to life. I was just the face, the voice, the charm. What did I need with the truth? Apparently that’s been standard operating procedure the last few years—or so he said when I confronted him about it. And our boss knew and encouraged it, because I was just an asset to be used, and they figured that was the best way to handle me. I have absolutely no idea how many other lives I’ve managed to ruin in the name of profit. I didn’t get a chance to find out before they fired me.”
“Oh honey.” Miranda was off the sofa in an instant, pulling Norah into a hard hug. “That’s why you’ve been able to stay so long?”
Norah ducked her head. “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She felt her lips twist into a sardonic smile. “Because Burkes don’t fail and we sure as hell don’t get fired.” She hissed out a breath and stepped away, waving an impatient hand. “But that isn’t my point. The only reason I’m bringing any of this up is that GrandGoods is going to have someone like me on their side. They’re going to make it sound like a dream come true and have an answer to downplay or eliminate all of your concerns. They’re going to offer jobs and discounts and services, and the public is going to eat it up because the economy is in the toilet, and they want someone big to come in and save them.”
“I saw some of that just in the other Council members. I’ve got two weeks to change their minds.”
Norah fixed her gaze on him. “If you want to play David to their Goliath, you’re going to need a helluva lot more than a rock. It doesn’t matter how well you think you know people here. GrandGoods is going to make this come down to economic survival, and by the time they’re through, people will believe that they’re some kind of savior. At least until they get here and the blindfold comes off. By then it’ll be too late. You can’t let that happen here, Cam.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“Excuse me for interjecting,” Uncle Jimmy said, “but exactly how do you intend to stop it? In two weeks, no less. The public’s going to want this, once word gets out. Like Norah said, that’s just the economic climate we’re in.”
“It’s going to take a miracle,” Anita said.
Something lightened in Cam’s face, a dawning realization. “No, it’s going to take somebody to counteract whatever silver-tongued devil they send. I can’t think of anybody better than the woman who once sold solar panels to an oil man.” He shifted his gaze back to Norah. “You said I need something bigger than a rock. You’re the next best thing to having an inside man. You’ve proved you know how they think, how they’ll approach this. And I know you know how to counter all that. So stay. Stay and make this fight less David versus Goliath and more Sparta versus the Persian army. You’re pissed off, and you have every right to be for how your firm used you. So take all that anger and use it. Redirect it to a new target and fight for us. We’ll hire you freelance.”
She thought back to the day they’d gone to the fountain, to the wish she’d made.
I wish for my time here to show me the right path, what my purpose really is.
Was it really so simple? So perfectly aligned with circumstance?
The whole idea of it smacked far too much of fate, which wasn’t a concept Norah was comfortable with. She believed in making her own fate, her own destiny. And yet, how could she say no to a chance to put her skills to use and stop the ruination of the town she loved, to atone, in part, for the damage she’d inadvertently done elsewhere.
Then there was Cam. If she agreed to do this, she had to end things. Anything else would be leading him on. She couldn’t stay forever, and remaining involved for however long this campaign might take would just make that ultimate parting worse for both of them in the end. Knowing what she knew now about his history… They’d slid too far, too fast already, getting so emotionally tangled, she hadn’t been able to think beyond the now to the practicalities of the future.
Resolute, Norah squared her shoulders. “I’ll fight for you, but I’ll do it pro bono.”
Cam frowned. “That hardly seems fair to you. You’re doing a job; you should get paid for it.”
She shook her head. “I’ve got a lot of work to do to balance out the bad karma for what I did in Morton.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault. They only reason they were there at all was because I convinced those people it was a good idea. You can pretty it up all you want, but I lied to them. I did that.”
“You were manipulated.”
“That’s no excuse. I should have double checked his work, should’ve followed up, done my own digging…something.” Cam opened his mouth to say something else, but Norah held up a hand. “We can argue about my culpability until we’re blue in the face, but I won’t budge on this. I was exceptionally well paid for what I did, and I worked too damned much to spend much of it. I don’t need the money right now. I need the fight. Let me do this my way.”
“Okay. Your way, then.” Cam offered his hand.
Norah took it, curling her fingers around his in a firm shake. “Cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war. Clear your schedule, Leonidas. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
He smiled, the tension visibly draining out of him. “Let’s give ’em hell.”
Grammy stepped toward the kitchen. “Save your hell raisin’ for after cobbler. No war was ever won on an empty stomach.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Cam said, “it’s to always respect my elders.”
Chapter 8