The crowd—the females anyway—burst into cheers and applause. Norah took an exaggerated bow and regretted it as the room took a bit of a dip along with it. Food. Food was an immediate priority. And water. Like, a gallon of it. She managed to straighten without lurching.
Mitch swaggered over. “Is this an All-Men-Suck hen party, or can we join you?”
“Better check Norah for sharp, pointy objects,” Cam said. “Clearly she’s dangerous with them.”
Norah assumed a superior air. “He deserved it.”
Piper was grinning like a loon, her arm already looped through Liam’s, so evidently this was to be a mixed party. Hooray, a new challenge to resist Cam, this time with diminished capacity. Norah knew after the lengths they’d gone to getting her here, neither woman was going to just let her go on home, so she didn’t voice the protest.
They commandeered a booth in the corner and put in orders for appetizers. Even as the others broke into a babble of joking conversation, Norah could feel Cam’s eyes on her.
“Are you okay?” He had to lean in close to be heard over the music, and Norah shivered at the feel of his breath on her ear.
“Not even close.” She tossed back a glass of water as if it were another shot.
“What happened?”
“Talked to my dad.”
Cam winced. “As bad as you expected?”
“Worse.” She wished he’d rub her nape, banish some of the tension. But he didn’t touch her. Because they didn’t do that anymore. She wasn’t his to take care of.
“I’m sorry.”
Norah jerked her shoulders. “Over now.” Flashing a smile that was probably more of a snarl, she asked, “And how was your day?”
“Could’ve been better. The economic impact report will be in tomorrow. The Council is convening tomorrow afternoon to go over it and vote.”
The shots turned to acid in her stomach. “So soon? I thought we weren’t expecting it for another month?”
“So did I. Apparently when they said they’d fast-track it, they really meant it.”
Had she done enough? She’d expected to have another month to shift public opinion, get the other Council members on their side. There had barely been time to get the Shop Local campaign off the ground, let alone finish with all the public education components of her plan. At this point, all their hopes were pinned on the results of that study.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She knew the power of optimism. “All our research suggests that the economic impact would be overwhelmingly negative. Any firm worth its salt is going to find the same.”
“I hope you’re right. Either way, tomorrow is D-Day.”
It was a sobering thought. Another sign from the Universe that her time here was winding up. Her mind automatically shifted to the action plan for the coalition, wondering how she should alter the timeline to see that the Shop Local campaign was truly sustainable on its own. Because an end to the anti-GrandGoods campaign meant an end to her time in Wishful. And an end to her time with Cam. She told herself it would be easier away from him, back in the real world, where everyone had expectations and the standard operating procedure was looking out for number one.
And when had she become a woman who looked for easy?
“You two look entirely too serious. I know just the way to turn that frown upside down.” Tucker grabbed her hand. “Come on, sugar.”
“No, no, no, nono. I don’t—oh Jesus.” Abruptly, she found herself spun in some complicated sequence as an Alan Jackson song rocked out from the juke box.
Tyler waved after them. “Don’t worry. Tucker makes everybody look good!”
~*~
Despite his lousy mood, Cam couldn’t help but be amused as Tucker dragged a very panicked Norah out on the dance floor. Piper wasn’t far behind, Liam in tow.
Mitch turned and offered a hand to Tyler, “May I have this dance, fair lady? We could put them to shame or die trying.”
“Not even for you, dear heart.”
He mimed brushing away tears. “In that case, beer. Pitcher?”<