“Love you.”
“Love you back. Talk soon.”
Norah didn’t have to hunt for parking. But for a handful of cars, downtown Morton was deserted. She got out and climbed over the mounds of dirty snow to the sidewalk and took a good look around. No sign of Have Your Cake. Thinking she parked on the wrong block, she began to walk.
Maybe they’re still on shortened holiday hours. Not what she’d have recommended to business owners in the wake of the holiday. They should’ve been taking advantage of post-Christmas shoppers with gift certificates and Christmas money.
A shop window across the street had Going Out of Business painted across the glass. The sign above the awning indicated it had been a florist. Even with the poor economy and reduced discretionary income, a florist should have been able to make it through the Christmas season. In another window on her side, she saw a For Rent sign. A lone, headless mannequin stood inside, one arm lifted like it was waving goodbye. One empty retail space she could dismiss, but two? That didn’t fit with her expectations.
Three years ago, she’d been brought in as the voice of the marketing team that convinced the town of Morton that Hugo’s ValuCenter would be a partner to the community, a harbinger of new economic growth. She’d seen their multi-phase plan for sustainable community development, had been the one to sell city leaders on the concept. So why was everything closed?
The next couple of spaces were occupied by a law office and an accountant. But the space after that had a discreet For Sale sign and the name of a local real estate company. Cold fingers walked down her spine as Norah looked into every window on the entire three block stretch.
Based on the community development plan, downtown Morton should’ve been a bustling retail corridor, full of local vendors and craftspeople. Exactly what it had been, at the heart, when she and Miranda had discovered the place years ago, but bigger. And yet more than seventy percent of the retail space sat empty. It was such a far cry from the bustling, quirky town she remembered, she half wondered if she’d come to the wrong place.
“What the hell happened here?”
One business still had active clientele at this hour. Crossing the street, Norah stepped inside the Five O’Clock Shadow. The bar was dim and quiet. A few people looked up when she came in, then went back to their drinks. Their low murmurs of conversation barely competed with the classic rock playing over the speakers. She noted a handful of suits and some business casual attire, suggesting that this was probably a hang out for the office workers and city government employees who worked further down the street.
Loosening her scarf, Norah crossed to the bar, where a mustached man was drying glasses.
“What can I getcha?”
She slid onto a stool. “Directions, I hope. I’m from out of town, and it’s been a few years since I came through here. I was hoping you could tell me where Have Your Cake moved to.”
“Didn’t move. Closed along with just about everything else down here.”
She’d been afraid of that. “What happened?”
“Same as happened lots of other places. We got a Hugo’s ValuCenter.”
Norah swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I’d heard that they were in to being partners with the community.”
The bartender snorted. “They’re like any other politicians. Telling people exactly what they want to hear to get in, then going back on their word. Within six months of opening for business, they added an in-house florist, a bakery, a butcher, on top of all the other products they already carried. They undercut local prices, all in the name of value.” The word rolled off his tongue like something foul. “Local businesses couldn’t compete. Those of us still standing are the ones who aren’t in direct competition. Everybody else…poof.”
Numb, Norah thanked the bartender for his time and headed back to her car. Her stomach roiled.
Hugo’s had done exactly what she’d promised the town they wouldn’t do. She’d seen the proposal, seen the plans to integrate, not overtake the community. Was there a statute of limitations clause she’d missed? Had they performed some kind of bait and switch with the final contracts? Had her partner failed to do proper due diligence on the company? She had, in effect, lied to the townspeople. Used all her skill in persuasion to talk them into something that had decimated the character of the town.
How did this happen? Where did I screw up?
She didn’t know. But as soon as she got to the office in the morning, she was going to find out.
Chapter 2
Standing shoulder to shoulder with her intern, Norah surveyed the mountains of folders spread across the conference table.
Cecily took a bracing breath. “This calls for ordering in. Do we want Chinese, Indian, or Greek?”
“None of the above. You are going home like the good little, not-excessively-overworked intern you’re supposed to be.”
“But I can help.”
Aw, she’s like your mini-me, Norah’s conscience cooed. The earnest, good-hearted workaholic. Encourage that so y’all can have no life together.
“It’s not about can, it’s about should. And you should have a life after work. Now go ahead and scoot or you’re going to miss your TaeBo class.”
“You did not just tell me to scoot. You’ve been talking to your Mississippi friend again.”