To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

By now he was exhausted. He just wanted to find her and hold her until everything was okay again. Followed by a nice, solid eighteen hours of sleep. Too late, he wondered if her apartment building allowed dogs.

Miracle of miracles, Norah’s dot was still stationary by the time Cam made it back across town to the business district. She hadn’t moved by the time he found parking. Not knowing quite where he was headed, he left Hush in the truck and left it running. Anybody considering a carjacking would be deterred by the hundred pounds of wolf-like teeth and claws.

“I’ll make this quick as I can, girl. Then I swear, we’ll find you a dog park so you can get some exercise.”

Hush replied in her sing-song talk, as if wishing him luck. He ruffled her ears and set out at a brisk walk, his shoulders hunched. His flannel-lined Carhartt coat wasn’t enough to protect against the ice-edged wind coming off Lake Michigan. He wished desperately for gloves. If this was what Norah was used to, no wonder she’d mocked what they called cold back home.

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.”