To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

Norah offered her most patronizing smile. “Mr. Costello is no longer the owner. I am. And I can assure you, I’m not open to negotiation.”

Watching that blow hit home was almost as satisfying as seeing Judge Carpenter sign off on the referendum.

“This is our town, Vick,” Cam told him.

No longer smirking, Vick shrugged. “It’s no matter. The size cap won’t pass. People here want more options and GrandGoods is going to give that to them.” Without another word, he shouldered his way through the crowd.

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he breaks that news to Bill Sutto.” Their in-house marketing guru couldn’t fix this.

“You and me both.”

Molly appeared and slipped an arm through Norah’s. “Well, it is a delightful thing to see him lose his swagger. Now, tell me what you have planned to kick his ass from here into next century.”

Norah opened her mouth to expound on exactly that, but Cam interrupted. “Nope. Not tonight. If you get her started, she’ll go past midnight. War council can wait until tomorrow. Tonight is for much deserved celebration. And pizza.”

“There should always be pizza.” Her stomach growled, underscoring the point. “Go grab a slice. I want to go talk to Christoff and Cecily.”

Cam brushed a kiss across her

brow and wove toward the buffet.

“I’m glad you worked it out,” Molly said.

“So am I. He’s totally worth the fight.”

“You suit each other down to the ground. You need someone who can appreciate and support your strengths without being intimidated or feeling the need to compete. And he needs someone to push him.”

“We balance each other.”

“Partners.” Molly patted her on the shoulder and disappeared in the crowd.

Norah’s friends were perched at a high top table observing the proceedings with a mixture of amusement and fascination. “Feel like you’re on an alien planet yet?”

“I think it’s marvelous,” Cecily said. “Everybody here knows who you are. How cool is that?”

“I’m pretty sure I dropped into an episode of Hart of Dixie and Dr. Zoe Hart is going to be sashaying through the door any minute now,” said Christoff.

“That’s Alabama, sugar.”

“Sugar! We all know I’m anything but sweet.”

“That is entirely a matter of perspective. What y’all did for me was pretty damned sweet.”

“It was pretty damned something, but I don’t think sweet is it,” Cecily said. “Either way, we felt it was necessary, even if it meant doing a little wrong to right a bigger wrong.”

Norah was trying not to think about the potential fallout of their actions, so she changed the subject. “So what’s next for the two of you? Are you planning to stay in Chicago?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Chicago was fun, but I think I could do with a change of scenery,” Christoff said.

“I’m definitely not staying in Chicago after graduation in May. But I’m not sure what’s next either.”

“Don’t you still need internship hours?”

“I do.” All innocence, Cecily turned to Norah. “I was hoping you could help me out with that. Pretty please?” Hands in prayer position, she batted her clear green eyes.

“You know I’ll help however I can. But I’m not coming back to Chicago except to pack up all my stuff and finish moving here.”

“I could help you here. Surely there’s something with this whole coalition thing I could do.”