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Passionate Proposals: Saying Yes to the Boss
Andrea Laurence
Kat Cantrell
Sarah M. Anderson
Passionate ProposalsSaying Yes To The BossTycoon Carson Newport is determined to build a children’s hospital to honour his mother.PR director Georgia Adams could be the perfect person help the project. But will an explosive family secret prevent Carson from getting to know Georgia much better?An Heir for the BillionaireAfter learning her father is dying, Nora Winchester O’Malley rushes to his bedside and right into an old friend’s arms. Reid Chamberlain is there to comfort the young widowed mum when she needs it most. But is his attention compassion or passion?Claimed by the CowboyJosh Calhoun escaped the rat race to run his family’s farm. But when he returns to Chicago to mediate an inheritance dispute, he’s confronted with the past: Dr. Lucinda Wilde. Could his touch be this city girl’s long-awaited reawakening?


About the Authors (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
ANDREA LAURENCE is an award-winning author of contemporary romances filled with seduction and sass. She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since she was young and is thrilled to share her special blend of sensuality and dry, sarcastic humor with readers. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own happily-ever-after with her boyfriend and their collection of animals.
KAT CANTRELL read her first Mills & Boon novel in third grade and has been scribbling in notebooks since then. She writes smart, sexy books with a side of sass. She’s a former So You Think You Can Write winner and an RWA Golden Heart® Award finalist. Kat, her husband and their two boys live in north Texas.
SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out West on the Great Plains. Sarah’s book A Man of Privilege won an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award in 2012.
Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians. Find out more about Sarah’s love of cowboys and Indians at www.sarahmanderson.com (http://www.sarahmanderson.com) and sign up for the new- release newsletter at www.eepurl.com/nv39b (http://www.eepurl.com/nv39b).
Passionate Proposals
Saying Yes to the Boss
Andrea Laurence
An Heir for the Billionaire
Kat Cantrell
Claimed by the Cowboy
Sarah M. Anderson


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08167-2
PASSIONATE PROPOSALS
Saying Yes to the Boss © 2016 Harlequin Books S.A. An Heir for the Billionaire © 2016 Harlequin Books S.A. Claimed by the Cowboy © 2016 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#ud41312bb-5755-5a82-9e57-b90c28d0c2d9)
About the Authors (#u317229c3-c490-50e3-8bd5-6868bcf11baa)
Title Page (#u55764afa-ce85-5fc5-a29b-8c97e8028fc4)
Copyright (#uf11ad739-f562-5a9a-bc12-42c52bdf7615)
Saying Yes to the Boss (#u8e50f05f-aba5-5aec-99c5-1c0c84ccbce8)
Dedication (#u88feb817-fcb3-505b-9574-ee182ab7ad9c)
One (#u4bf73814-f528-548e-afd0-01c0cd5f8690)
Two (#u172d6b0d-52c8-562c-8692-a9ad35126c5d)
Three (#u4a8a8d5f-a16f-5400-a784-5d814c58ad58)
Four (#ub7ae6877-f0fb-5dd6-b45c-b0024d878d26)
Five (#u0449021d-5633-5aaf-95d3-5c5500c207c0)
Six (#uab1af019-93dc-5a40-a320-35b584e5e876)
Seven (#u80821743-d496-5d36-95e0-d20103fbe553)
Eight (#uaba7c32f-7c4e-5d64-97aa-f9703e94507e)
Nine (#u6d8eff6f-d4af-59a5-b3e1-e71b7b27f485)
Ten (#u31fa72eb-6a26-5021-9b56-c63a25673fed)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
An Heir for the Billionaire (#litres_trial_promo)
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Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Claimed by the Cowboy (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#litres_trial_promo)
Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
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Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Saying Yes to the Boss (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
Andrea Laurence
To My Fellow Newport Authors— Kat, Sarah, Jules, Michelle and Charlene Thanks for being so much fun to work with on this series.
And to our editor, Charles— You’re awesome, as always. I’m still waiting to see that infamous fanny pack.
One (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“I found it.”
Georgia Adams eyed Carson Newport from her position in his office doorway. He looked up from the paperwork on his desk, arched one golden eyebrow in curiosity and leaned back in his chair. “You found what?”
Georgia stifled a frown of disappointment. She’d imagined this moment differently. She was carrying a chilled bottle of champagne in her purse to celebrate her discovery. Not once in her imagination had he stared at her blankly.
How could he not know that she had found it? The Holy Grail of real estate. The very thing they’d been searching for, for months. “I found the spot where the Newport Corporation is going to be building the Cynthia Newport Memorial Hospital for Children.”
That got his attention. Carson straightened up in his leather executive chair and pinned her with his gaze. “Are you serious?”
Georgia grinned. This was more like it. “As a heart attack.”
“Come in.” He waved her into his office. “Tell me all about it.”
She shook her head and crooked her finger to beckon him. “I think I need to show you. Come on.”
Carson didn’t so much as look at his calendar for conflicts before he leaped from his chair. Finding the land for their next real estate development project had been that hard and that important. There wasn’t a lot of space in Chicago to do what they wanted. At least, not at a price that made any kind of financial sense.
He moved swiftly around his massive mahogany desk, buttoning the black suit coat he was wearing as he joined her in the doorway. “Lead on, Miss Adams.”
Georgia spun on her heel and headed for the elevators. “We’re taking your car,” she reminded him as she hit the down button.
He leaned his palm against the wall and looked down at her. “You know, Georgia, you’re the director of public relations at a Fortune 500 company. I think I pay you enough to get a car. I pay you enough to get a really nice car. There’s even a reserved spot in the garage for you that sits open every day.”
Georgia just shrugged. She didn’t want the responsibility of a car. In truth, she didn’t need one. Her apartment was a block away from the “L.” Chicago’s elevated train was efficient and cheap, and that’s how she liked things. She’d never owned a car before. Public transportation was all she’d ever really known. To some people who grew up the way she had, finally getting their own car would be a milestone that showed they had made something of themselves. To her, it was an unnecessary expense. She never knew when she might need that money for something else.
“You look like a Jaguar girl to me.” Carson continued to ponder aloud as they stepped out of the elevator to the employee parking deck. “Graceful, attractive and just a little bit naughty.”
Georgia stopped beside Carson’s pearl-white Range Rover. She brushed her loose platinum-blond hair over her shoulder and planted a hand on her hip. “Mr. Newport, am I going to have to report you to human resources?” she asked with a smile that took the teeth out of the threat.
Carson winced as he opened the door for her to get inside. “It was just a compliment. Please don’t make me go to the second floor. Our HR director reminds me of my third-grade teacher. She was always mean to me.”
“Were you poorly behaved?” Georgia challenged him.
Carson grinned, showcasing his bright smile. His sea-green eyes twinkled mischievously. “Maybe,” he admitted before slamming the door.
She took the next ten seconds alone to take a deep breath. Being around Carson Newport was hard on Georgia’s nerves. Not because he was a difficult boss—he was anything but. That was part of the problem. He was handsome, charming, smart and a miserable flirt. All the Newport brothers were that way, but only Carson made Georgia’s heart race. His flattering banter was harmless. She knew that. He’d never so much as touched her in the year she’d worked for his company.
That didn’t mean she didn’t secretly want him to. It was a stupid fantasy, one that kept her up nights as she imagined his hands running over her bare skin. But it had to stay a fantasy. She’d worked damn hard to get into a good college and climb the corporate ladder. Landing this job at the Newport Corporation was a dream come true. She’d found a family among her coworkers here. She was good at her job. Everything had turned out just as she’d hoped. Georgia wasn’t about to risk that just because she had the hots for her boss.
Carson climbed in the car and they headed out. It took about a half hour to negotiate downtown traffic and get out to the site she’d found. Once there, he pulled his Range Rover off the road and onto a patch of grass and gravel. They both got out of the car and walked a couple hundred yards into a large empty field.
If she’d known she was coming out here today before she left the house, she would’ve opted for a more practical outfit than a pencil skirt and heels, but she didn’t get the tip on the land until she got into the office. Fortunately it hadn’t rained for a while, so the ground was firm and dry. It really was an ideal plot of land. The property was fairly level without many trees that would need to be cleared. One side butted up to an inlet of Lake Michigan and another to a waterfront park.
“So...” Georgia said at last. The anticipation was killing her. She didn’t know how they could find anything better than this. The property had been tied up in probate for years and the family had just now decided to sell it, or it would’ve long ago been turned into a shopping center or condos. If Carson didn’t like it, not only was she back to the drawing board, but she also had a really expensive bottle of champagne in her purse for no reason at all. “What do you think?”
She watched Carson survey the property with his back to her for a few minutes. When he finally faced her, his winning grin was broader than ever. “It’s amazing. Perfect.”
Carson walked across the empty field with his hands shoved into his pants pockets. There was a casual air about him that belied how intense he could be in business affairs. Georgia had seen more than one person underestimate the youngest Newport and regret it.
“How did you ever find out about this place?”
“I know a guy,” Georgia said with a smile. She’d sent out quiet feelers several weeks ago and hadn’t heard anything back until today. An acquaintance from college had told her about the land. It wasn’t publicly for sale, at least not yet. She’d spoken to the owners and they were entertaining bids on the whisper listing through the end of next week. She got the idea they wanted to move quickly and with as little hassle as possible. If they didn’t get an offer they liked by then, they’d announce the sale. If the Newport Corporation moved fast, they could avoid the sale becoming public and competitors driving up the price of the land.
Carson turned back to her. “You know a guy? I love it.”
“Shall we buy it?” Georgia asked. “We don’t have a lot of time to decide. Someone will snatch it up, I’m certain.”
“Yes, I think we should buy it and quickly. Let’s not even wait for my brothers’ opinions. Graham and Brooks will think it’s great.”
Georgia smiled and slipped her purse off her shoulder. The large bag could’ve easily accommodated enough stuff for a weekend vacation, but it was the purse that she carried every day. Anything she could ever possibly need was in that bag. Today that included an insulated bag with chilled champagne and cups. “I think this is cause for celebration,” she said as she pulled out the bottle.
“You’re like Mary Poppins with that thing,” Carson said with a chuckle as he leaned close to peer into the abyss of her handbag. “What else do you have in there?”
Reaching back inside, Georgia pulled out two red plastic cups. “They’re not lead crystal, but they’ll do.”
“That’s perfect. I’ve done all my best celebrating with Solo cups.” Carson took the champagne bottle and opened it. He let the cork fly across the field and then poured them both a healthy-size glass.
“To the new Cynthia Newport Memorial Hospital for Children!” Carson said, holding up his glass.
“To finally seeing your mother’s dream realized!” Georgia added.
As they both took a sip, Georgia noticed the faraway look of sadness in Carson’s eyes. It had been only about two months since his mother’s sudden death from an aneurysm. They’d had no warning at all. She was there, and then she was gone. Their mother was all they had for family. The brothers had taken it all very hard, but Carson especially. He decided he wanted to build a children’s hospital in her honor, since she’d done so much charity work with sick kids in her later years.
“I really can’t believe we’re making this happen.” Setting down his cup, Carson wrapped Georgia in his arms and spun her around.
“Carson!” Georgia squealed and clung to his neck, but that only made him spin faster.
When he finally set her back on the ground, both of them were giggling and giddy from drinking the champagne on empty stomachs. Georgia stumbled dizzily against his chest and held to his shoulders until the world stopped moving around her.
“Thank you for finding this,” he said.
“I’m happy to. I know it’s important to you,” she said, noting he still had his arms around her waist. Carson was the leanest of the three brothers, but his grip on her told of hard muscles hidden beneath his expensive suit.
In that moment, the giggles ceased and they were staring intently into each other’s eyes. Carson’s full lips were only inches from hers. She could feel his warm breath brushing over her skin. She’d imagined standing like this with him so many times, and every one of those times, he’d kissed her.
Before she knew what was happening, Carson brought her fantasy to reality by dipping his head and pressing his lips to hers. The champagne was just strong enough to mute the voices in her head that told her this was a bad idea. Instead she gave in to his kiss, pulling him closer.
He tasted like champagne and spearmint. His touch was gentle yet firm. She could’ve stayed just like this forever, but eventually, Carson pulled back from the kiss.
For a moment, Georgia felt light-headed. She didn’t know if it was his kiss or the champagne, but she felt as though she would lift right off the ground if she let go. Then she looked up at him.
His green eyes reflected sudden panic. Her emotions came crashing back down to the ground with the reality she saw there. She had just kissed her boss. Her boss! And despite the fact that he had initiated it, he looked just as horrified by the idea.
“Georgia, I...” he started, his voice trailing off. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
With a quick shake of her head, she dismissed his words and took a step back from him. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Excitement and champagne will make people do stupid things every time.”
The problem was that it didn’t feel stupid. It had felt amazing. Better than any fantasy she’d ever had about Carson. But that didn’t make it a good idea.
“I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. I’d hate for my thoughtlessness to ruin our working relationship.”
“It’s fine, Carson. Please. Things happen when you work closely with someone. Besides that,” she admitted reluctantly, “I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.”
“Georgia?”
She’d avoided his gaze once their lips parted and she saw his inevitable regret, but the pleading, husky sound of his voice as he said her name made her look back at him. The regret was gone and there was a fire in his eyes now as he looked at her. His jaw was tight. With an expression like that, she would say he desired her, but that couldn’t possibly be right. That kiss was a mistake and they both knew it. Right? “Yes?”
“I—”
A hard buzz against Georgia’s breast startled her. At the same time, a chirp sounded from Carson’s suit pocket, interrupting what he was about to say. It was their office phones.
Georgia swallowed her disappointment, turned her back to him and reached into her blouse to retrieve her phone. She always kept it on silent, tucked away in her shirt so she would know when she got a call without interrupting business. When she looked down, the message on the screen nearly devastated her.
“Sutton Winchester has announced plans to build luxury waterfront condos here,” Carson said.
Georgia clicked on the link to the news article his administrative assistant, Rebecca, had sent them both. She’d left the information on the property with Rebecca in case Brooks or Graham came in and asked where they were. Instead she’d used it to uncover their competition. The story was accompanied by an image of the fancy development they planned to build on the spot where they were standing. The article noted that Sutton’s offer on the land hadn’t been accepted yet, but he was confident that it would be, and he was rallying support for the project. Below the artist’s rendering of the buildings was a picture of Sutton Winchester.
Georgia had no doubt Sutton must have been able to charm any woman he wanted when he was a younger man. He had quite the reputation where women were concerned even now, despite his age and longtime marriage to Celeste Van Houten. Georgia could see why. His light brown hair was mostly gray now and wrinkles lined his face, but his green eyes were still bright, and his dimpled smile exuded confidence. Fortunately Georgia knew to stay far away from the likes of Winchester. He was an underhanded bastard in business dealings. He bribed, seduced and lied to get his way, screwing over the Newport Corporation on more than one occasion and putting a handful of other companies out of business entirely.
Georgia let her phone drop to her side and turned back to face Carson. Their kiss faded into her distant memory as she focused on their next steps.
There was a steely determination set into his expression when he looked at her. “We need to move quickly. I can’t—I won’t—let that bastard Sutton steal this out from under us.”
* * *
“There’s no way in hell you can let Winchester have our land,” Graham complained.
Carson reached over the back of his leather sofa, handed his older brother a bowl of hot buttered popcorn and rolled his eyes. He was hoping they wouldn’t spend tonight talking about this, but it was clear Graham wasn’t going to let it go. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Has our offer gone in yet?” Graham’s twin, Brooks, asked. The older brothers were identical, each a good two inches taller than Carson with shaggy blond hair and aqua eyes. It was easy for Carson to tell his brothers apart, though. Brooks’s brow was always furrowed with concern and thought. He had that exact expression now as he tried to balance the three bottles of microbrew that he brought with him from the kitchen.
Carson nodded and went back through his dining room to the kitchen to grab a bag of M&M’S and a box of Twizzlers off the quartz bar. “We called and submitted the offer while we were still standing in the field. The seller’s attorney was mum about other offers they’d received, including Winchester’s. There’s no way to know if what we’ve submitted is on par with the others, so all we can do is wait and see if they come back with a counteroffer before they make a final decision.”
Carson settled on the couch beside his brothers. “Now, can we please let this unpleasant conversation drop so we can enjoy The Maltese Falcon in peace?”
“Fine,” Graham muttered and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
It was the first Thursday of the month, and that meant it was movie night in the Newport family. Since they were small, they’d gathered on the couch with their mother and Gerty to watch old black-and-white movies on AMC. Gerty, a widow, had worked with their mother at a café where they waitressed together before Carson was born. When Gerty retired, she’d invited Cynthia and her boys to live with her. The apartment their mother could afford was tiny and she had three growing boys who needed room to roam. Gerty didn’t like being in her big house all alone and welcomed the family.
She wasn’t blood, but Gerty had been the only family they had besides each other. For reasons their mother had never wanted to discuss, their father and the rest of their family were out of the picture. As Carson and his brothers got older and pushed, Cynthia had told them only that their father was abusive and she ran away to protect them all. They were better off without him in their lives, she insisted, and she made them promise not to seek him out.
For a long time, the boys had been saddened but content with that answer. They wouldn’t want to hurt their mother by seeking out a dangerous man who would only make them regret it. Besides, they had their spunky pseudo grandmother Gerty and their mother. They didn’t need anyone else.
Then they lost Gerty to cancer when they were in high school. She’d left them enough money to go to college and make something of themselves. Carson and his brothers had done just that, starting the Newport Corporation and becoming wealthier than they ever imagined by developing real estate in Chicago. They couldn’t have done it without Gerty, so they honored her memory by drinking beer and watching the old favorites once a month.
“Double the offer,” Graham insisted as he picked up the television remote and started the film.
“We can’t afford that,” Brooks argued, ever the voice of reason between the twins. Without him, Graham would’ve gotten himself into trouble with some crazy scheme long before now.
“We can find the money somewhere,” Graham said, pausing the movie before it had even begun.
Carson sighed. He knew better than to think Graham would simply shut up about it. When he got an idea in his head, he wouldn’t let it go. He was like a bulldog with a bone, which made him a great attorney, but a pain as a brother. Graham was the corporate attorney for the Newport Corporation, although he spent most of his time working at his law firm, Mayer, Mayer and Newport. Brooks was their chief operations officer but spent most days working remotely from his mansion on Lake Michigan. Carson was the CEO, running the company they’d started together, but that didn’t stop his brothers from putting their two cents into every decision he made.
“Sure thing,” Carson agreed. “We can start by firing our attorney and making him return his corporate car.”
“Hey!” Graham complained. He shoved a sharp elbow into Carson’s ribs.
Carson returned the elbow, making his brother howl and scramble to the far side of the couch. He was used to the physical and mental bullying that being the younger brother entailed, but he’d learned to fight back a long time ago. Now that they were in their thirties, it hadn’t changed much. “You said to find the money. You didn’t say where. Now, will you let it go so we can watch the movie?”
Graham scowled and picked up his beer from the coffee table. “Fine.”
Brooks grabbed the remote from Graham and hit the play button. As the opening credits were still playing, Graham studied his bottle and said, “You know, Gerty would whup our asses for drinking this highbrow beer.”
This time, Carson snorted aloud. He was right. Gerty preferred to watch her movies with a plain Hershey’s bar and a can of classic Budweiser. If she’d still been alive, she’d have given them a hard time over their fancy new lives, including the small-batch artisanal brew they bought downtown.
“I miss Gerty,” Brooks said, pausing the movie just as the grainy black-and-white images of San Francisco came onto the screen.
“I miss Mom,” Carson added.
The three brothers sat together in silence for a moment, acknowledging everything that they’d lost. Their mother’s death had been so sudden, and their lives so busy, that they’d hardly had the time to sit and let the reality of her death hit them. They were alone now, except for each other. It was a sad thought, one Carson had tried to avoid. It sent his mind spiraling down into rabbit holes.
“When are we going to clean out her house?” Graham asked.
That was a task they’d also avoided. They’d had their mother’s housekeeper throw away all the perishables and close the house up until they were able to deal with her things. Eight weeks had gone by and none of them had even set foot in their mother’s home.
Brooks sighed. “We have to do it eventually. We can’t leave her house sitting there like some kind of old shrine.”
“I’ll do it,” Carson volunteered. The words slipped out so suddenly he surprised even himself. “Just let me take care of this land deal first. I have a feeling I’ll have my hands full with Sutton for a while.”
“Are you sure?” Brooks looked at him with his blond brows furrowed in concern. “You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
Carson shook his head. “You two don’t have time. Besides, I want to. Maybe being around her things will make me feel less...”
“Alone?”
He turned and looked at Brooks. “Maybe.”
“Do you think...” Graham began, then hesitated. “Do you think we might find something about our father among her things?”
Carson had wondered the same thing several times, but hadn’t allowed himself to speak the words out loud. “Mom wouldn’t want us to find him.”
“Mom doesn’t get a vote anymore,” Brooks argued. “Our father might be the royal bastard she always told us he was, but he’s not the only one out there we might find. We might have siblings, cousins, grandparents... It’s possible that we have a whole family out there that would be worth the effort to track down. Don’t you want to know where we come from? We would finally be able to fill out our family tree. I know Mom tried to keep us from finding out the truth, but with her gone, I don’t think she’d want us to feel as isolated as we do.”
“We can at least try,” Graham added. “If we find something we can use, great. If not, well, at least we can say we tried. It might be a stupid move that we’ll regret, but at least we’ll finally know for ourselves, right?”
His brothers were right. Carson knew it. They all felt a sense of not belonging. Finding where they came from, even if they didn’t get the happy family reunion they all secretly hoped for, would give them closure. They’d always wonder if they didn’t find out the truth. Since their parents hadn’t married and his name was left off their birth certificates, cleaning out their mother’s house might be the only chance they had to uncover a clue. After that, their only leads would be in the landfill.
“I’ll keep my eyes open, okay?” Carson finally agreed. “If I find something we can use, I’ll let you know.”
The brothers nodded in agreement, and Brooks picked up the remote again to start the movie for the third and final time.
Two (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“Mr. Newport? Miss Adams is here to see you, sir.”
Carson reached out to his phone and hit the button to respond to Rebecca. “Please send her in.”
The door to his office opened a minute later and Georgia stepped inside. Her platinum-blond hair was pulled back into a bun today, highlighting her high cheekbones and sharp chin. She was wearing a pewter pantsuit that very nearly matched the color of her steely gray eyes.
Carson had tried not to pay that much attention to how Georgia looked most days, but he usually failed. She was a fashionable woman who knew exactly what she should wear to highlight her outrageous curves. As her boss, he shouldn’t notice she was built like a brick house. He shouldn’t care that she wore a shiny lip gloss that made her pouty bottom lip call out to him.
And yet he couldn’t stop himself. Kissing her in the field the other day had made it that much harder. Now he knew how those curves felt beneath his palms and that the lip gloss she wore was strawberry flavored. The feeling was ten times worse than it ever was before, and if there was a time he needed to focus on work and not on how badly he wanted his director of public relations, it was now.
“Any word?” she asked as she came across the room and settled into his guest chair.
“I spoke with the sellers directly this morning. They’ve still not made a decision. I told them to give us the chance to counter their offer before they choose someone else. That doesn’t mean that Winchester won’t do the same thing, bidding us up to well outside our top price.”
“I hate this waiting game,” Georgia said.
Carson sat back in his leather executive chair and brought his fingertips pensively to his lips. “Me, too. What other avenues can we pursue while we wait?”
“Well,” Georgia began as she lifted her tablet and started tapping on the screen. “First, I think we should try talking to Winchester.”
Carson put his coffee mug back down on his desk, happy he hadn’t had a mouthful of steaming hot liquid to spit out when she made her suggestion. “Talk to Winchester? Are you serious?”
Georgia shrugged. “Why not? Surely the man can be reasoned with. This project is to help sick children. How could he possibly be against sick children?”
Carson chuckled and shook his head. “You obviously haven’t met the son of a bitch yet. Did you know he refers to himself as the King of Chicago? A man with that kind of ego isn’t going to back down for anything. Contacting him will just tip him off to the fact that we’re his competition. He’ll drive up the price just to watch us squirm.”
“You don’t think he already knows?” Georgia asked. “If we know he’s bid, I’m sure he’s got enough spies to know we have, as well. What he may not know is what we plan to do with the land. That might make a difference and get him to back down.”
Carson put his elbows on his desk, leaned forward and gave her a wry smile. “You really are an optimist, aren’t you?”
An odd expression came across her face, her brows pinching together in thought. “I guess you could say that. Sometimes there’s nowhere to go but up,” she responded cryptically.
He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, but he knew she was right. It couldn’t hurt to call up Sutton and talk to him man-to-man. Winchester was old-school. It was possible he’d appreciate Carson manning up and calling him. It was also possible it wouldn’t help, but at least he could say he’d tried to reason with him.
“Okay, you win,” he said. “I’ll call him, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Turning to his computer, he looked up Sutton’s number and dialed the phone. All the while, Georgia watched him with a mix of excitement and anxiety on her face. Carson was pretty certain it would be replaced with disappointment soon enough. He didn’t want to see those full lips turned down into a frown, but it probably couldn’t be helped where Sutton was concerned.
A perky-sounding woman answered the phone. “Elite Industries, Mr. Winchester’s office. How may I assist you?”
“Yes, this is Carson Newport. I’d like to speak with Sutton, please.”
“Hold please, Mr. Newport.”
An irritating instrumental music track started playing when Carson was put on hold. He tapped his fingers on the desk to the anxious rhythm in his mind as he waited. It took nearly two minutes for anyone to pick up the line again.
There was a short, muffled string of coughs. “Carson Newport,” a man’s voice barked into the phone. It was a deep, gravelly sound, laced with a cockiness that Carson didn’t care for. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you today. Tell me, what can the King of Chicago do for the Newport Corporation?”
Sit on it and rotate was the first thought that came to mind, but Carson swallowed the words. “Good afternoon, Sutton. I’m calling today to talk to you about the lakeside project you announced a few days ago.”
“Won’t it be splendid? Best waterfront views for miles. I’ve already got a list of potential buyers lined up for the best units. Are you interested in one, Carson? I’ll give you the sweetest corner unit I’ve got. Wall-to-wall windows overlooking Lake Michigan.”
Carson gritted his teeth. “That’s a very kind offer, Sutton, but I’m not looking for a place to live. I’m actually looking for a place to build a new children’s hospital.”
There was a moment of silence on the line. “That’s a very noble project,” Sutton said, refusing to acknowledge what Carson was after.
“I agree. I think the Cynthia Newport Memorial Hospital for Children will be an asset to the community and a testimony to my mother’s work with kids.”
There was a longer silence on the line this time. Unsure of what was going through Sutton’s mind, he went on. “The problem is that we were looking at the same property you’ve identified for those condos and put in our own bid around the time that you did.”
“That’s a shame.”
Carson was really getting annoyed with Sutton’s vagueness. He wasn’t about to make it easier on Carson. He was going to make him ask for it. Beg for him to withdraw the offer. “I’m calling because I was hoping I could convince you to set the condo project aside and let us have the land to build the hospital.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Carson. I’ve already got way too much money invested in this project.”
“Sutton, I—”
“How about this?” Sutton interrupted. “How about tomorrow about three or so, you send that pretty little PR director of yours over here. I’ll discuss it with her and see if we can’t come to some kind of arrangement.”
Carson looked down and realized his hand was clenched into a tight fist as though he could punch the old man through the phone line. He consciously unclenched and stretched his fingers, noticing Georgia’s curious expression as she watched him across the desk.
“What is it?” she mouthed silently.
He could only shake his head and hold up a finger for her to wait. “That’s not really her sandbox, Sutton.”
“I don’t care,” Sutton snapped. “She will come here tomorrow at three or the discussion is over. You and your sick kids can find somewhere else to convalesce.”
Before Carson could respond, the line went dead. He studied the phone in his hand a moment before setting it gently onto the cradle. He was a little shell-shocked from the conversation and needed a few moments to gather his thoughts.
“What did he say?”
“No,” he said. Carson wasn’t about to tell her about Sutton’s demands. That guy had a reputation when it came to young and beautiful women. Carson wouldn’t let any females in his social circle even get close to Winchester, especially not Georgia. He felt protective of her, even though he had no real claim to her. “I told you he wouldn’t budge.”
“He said a hell of a lot more than no,” Georgia pointed out. “What did he say? Tell me.”
Carson sighed. He sat back in his chair and ran his fingers through his blond waves. “It doesn’t matter what he said, Georgia. The point is that he isn’t going to back down.”
Georgia arched one delicate brow and leaned forward. “Tell me, or heaven help me, I’ll march down this hallway and tell your brother Sutton gave you an out but you refused to take it.”
He immediately straightened up in his chair. “What is this, elementary school?”
She only shrugged and sat back, casually crossing her shapely legs. She couldn’t have been over five-five, but sometimes Carson was certain that at least four feet of her was leg. He’d given a lot of thought to how they’d feel wrapped around his waist.
“Carson!”
He snapped out of his mental reverie and flung his arm up in defeat. “Okay. He wants to meet with you.” He spat out the words with disgust.
“With me? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Carson could only shake his head. “It makes perfect sense when we’re talking about Sutton Winchester. He very specifically requested you and said he wouldn’t speak to anyone else. I’m pretty sure he’s interested in more than just talking to you, Georgia.”
Georgia’s lips formed a small O of surprise. “Wow,” she said at last.
“I can’t send you over there into that wolf den. Odds are that in the end, it won’t make any difference. We just need to increase our offer and hope it’s enough.”
“No.”
Carson frowned. “What do you mean, no?”
“I want to go. He’s asked for me, so maybe I’m the one who can sway his decision.”
“I can’t risk it, Georgia. If that guy so much as lays a finger on you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Georgia’s lips curled into a wicked grin, highlighting today’s dark burgundy lipstick. “I’m no debutante, Carson. I may have nice clothes and a good education now, but there was a time where I had to fight for survival each and every day. I can hold my own. If he gets inappropriate, I’ll give him a good dose of pepper spray.”
Now it was Carson’s turn to look shocked. He envisioned Sutton Winchester—the King of Chicago—rolling around on the ground as he screamed and clawed at his eyes. But he’d love to hear her tell him about it.
He also couldn’t forget that he’d promised his brothers that he would make this hospital project happen. Whether he liked it or not, he needed to do whatever it took, even if it meant sending Georgia right into that bastard’s clutches.
“Okay, you can go,” he said at last. “On one condition. You take Big Ron with you.” The head of security at the Newport Corporation was a former Olympic heavy lifter. He’d once told Carson he slapped a man across the face and accidently broke his jaw. He could snap Sutton like a twig, if necessary.
Georgia considered his stipulations for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. But he stays outside the office with the secretary unless I call him.”
* * *
“May I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thank you,” Georgia replied. Sitting in the guest chair across from Sutton Winchester’s ostentatious oak desk, she couldn’t help but fiddle with the collar of her shirt. After Carson’s warnings yesterday, she’d chosen a pantsuit instead of a skirt and buttoned her blouse up to her throat.
It had been a long time since she’d dressed that way. Probably not since she lived with Mrs. Anderson. She’d been a religious fanatic and swore up and down that any inch of skin Georgia showed would tempt a good man into sin. Truth be told, once Georgia blossomed into her full figure, there wasn’t anything a turtleneck would do to hide it.
Even now, she could feel Sutton’s eyes rake across her body. The July heat in Chicago was absolutely miserable, but at the moment she was wishing she’d worn a heavy down coat.
Sutton poured himself a drink and settled back into his chair. Georgia noticed that the man in front of her bore little resemblance to the press picture she’d seen in the paper the other day. He was still a tall and relatively handsome man, but the green eyes watching her had a dull look. It was made more obvious by the bags under them and the wrinkles lining his brow. He looked ten years older than she’d expected, even with his wide grin and trademark dimples.
“So, Miss Adams, is it?” he asked before scooting up to the desk.
“Yes.”
Sutton nodded and leaned forward to close some of the space between them. “I bet you’re wondering why I asked you here today.”
“Actually, yes. I’m not really the most qualified person to explain the plans the Newport Corporation has for the hospital, but I’ll do the best I can. The current children’s hospital is a dinosaur with outdated equipment and too few rooms and staff to provide for the number of children that need treatment. The plans we have for the new hospital will include state-of-the-art—”
Sutton held up his hand to silence her. “Actually, Miss Adams, you can stop there. To be honest, I didn’t invite you here to talk about the land deal.”
Georgia’s brows went up in surprise. Carson had been right. She should’ve known better than to fall into this trap. Holding her purse tightly in her lap, she slipped one hand inside and wrapped her fingers around her trusty pepper spray. “May I ask why you did ask me here, Mr. Winchester?”
“Please, call me Sutton,” he said with a smile that should’ve charmed her but immediately put Georgia on edge. In her years of foster care, she’d become a very good judge of character, and it took only a few minutes for her to know that she had to tread very carefully with this man.
“I saw you recently on the news speaking about the Newport Corporation’s sponsorship of a charity fun run. I was impressed by you. Impressed enough that I had my people look into more of your work. You have a remarkable résumé for someone of your age.”
Georgia tried not to squirm under his praise. She was very proud of how far she’d come in life. She’d worked damn hard to keep herself from becoming another sad statistic of the failing foster care system. Landing the job at Newport Corporation was the culmination of everything she had worked for. But she didn’t like hearing it from Sutton’s lips. Perhaps it was how he was looking at her as he said it.
“My director of public relations has recently retired. I haven’t had a single applicant that could beat you out for the job.”
Georgia straightened up in her seat and put on a flattered smile. “Luckily for them, I already have a job.”
Sutton thoughtfully stroked his chin. “Yes, you do. But I think you can do better.”
Her breath caught in her throat as Sutton pushed up from his chair and rounded the desk. He stopped just in front of her and leaned back on the edge. The hem of his pants brushed her ankle as he stretched out, causing her to tuck her legs up under the chair and out of his reach.
“What are you suggesting, Mr. Winchester?”
“I’m suggesting you come work for me, Georgia.”
That wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t care for his cutthroat business practices. She wouldn’t feel good about working for him. “And why would I do that?”
“Well,” Sutton chuckled, “to start, it’s the natural progression of your career. Everyone wants to work for the best, and Elite Industries is the best. Of course, there is also a generous benefits and compensation package. We offer an in-house day care, a fitness center and a month of vacation to start, plus telecommuting at least one day a week.”
It sounded nice. If she was looking. And she wasn’t.
“And then there’s the signing bonus.”
Georgia decided to bite. She’d done her fair share of market research to see if her earnings were on par with her peers’. If Elite Industries really was the step up he claimed it was, there should be some solid numbers behind that offer. “How much are we talking?”
“A million.”
Her eyes widened as she struggled to choke down her shock. That was not at all what she was anticipating. A million dollar–signing bonus? What the hell kind of salary was he offering with a signing bonus like that? “That’s very g-generous,” she stuttered. “What’s the catch?”
Sutton narrowed his green gaze at her and smiled wide. “Smart girl. Nothing is free in this world, as you are well aware, I’m sure. That said, I don’t like to think of it as a catch. More as a...retainer for our mutually beneficial arrangement. You see, I’d like you to become more than just an employee to me, Georgia.”
He said the words as casually as if he’d offered her a drink. It took Georgia a minute even to be certain she’d heard what she thought she did. Was he asking her to be his mistress? Carson had warned her that Sutton was a lech, but she’d never expected to be offered the opportunity to service him sexually as though it were another job opening at the company. Had his mistress retired, too?
“I’m flattered, Mr. Winchester. Really, I am. But I’m going to have to pass. On everything,” she added with a pointed tone.
A flicker of disappointment danced over Sutton’s worn face and then vanished just as quickly. “You don’t have to decide now,” he insisted. “It’s a big decision. Go home and ponder what kind of opportunity I’m offering. Think about what you can do with a million dollars. When you change your mind, I’ll be waiting.”
Georgia wasn’t going to change her mind. Not even for a million dollars. Even if Sutton wasn’t old enough to be her father, he really wasn’t her type. Thirty years ago, he might have attracted her at first sight, but his personality would’ve sunk that ship before it could sail. No amount of money or charisma would’ve changed that.
And even if Sutton was the most handsome, virtuous man she’d ever met, Georgia would still not be his employee. It was bad enough she’d gotten wrapped up in the moment and kissed Carson at the build site. She’d crossed the line with her boss and had regretted it ever since. Well, at least she regretted most of it. Kissing Carson had been amazing. She wanted more of him, and yet she was determined not to let that happen. Sleeping with the boss was bad news. And cliché. She refused to be cliché. She also refused to ruin the good thing she had going at the Newport Corporation.
Inappropriate relations in the workplace just led to awkwardness. Georgia was dedicated to doing her best work every day. She couldn’t do that with Carson walking around, reminding her of what they did or didn’t do. Things always got weird. It was bad enough she fantasized about him. Acting on it was another matter. Sutton had been a welcome distraction from what happened that day, but once the land deal was finalized, they’d both have to face what they’d done.
“I will think it over, Mr. Winchester, but my answer isn’t going to change. Now, what about the children’s hospital?”
Sutton sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “My answer hasn’t changed, either. We’ll battle it out fair and square with the property owner and let the best—or at least the richest—man win. Unless, of course, you’d like to reconsider my offer... If you change your mind, then perhaps I might change mine, as well.”
This was even worse than she’d thought. Now he was trying to twist her arm by using such a noble cause against her. What was she willing to do for sick children? A lot. But not that. She grew up with almost nothing, but she’d managed to hang on to her principles.
There was nothing else she could say, so Georgia stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I guess we’re done here,” she said.
Sutton reached out to take her hand. He shook it for a moment, then held it longer than necessary. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. “Consider my offer, Georgia. There are a lot of parents with sick children out there that would be willing to do anything to save their child. In the end, it isn’t much of a sacrifice to help so many, is it?”
Georgia tugged her hand from his and rubbed the palm over her slacks to wipe him away from her skin. “Good afternoon, Mr. Winchester.”
Three (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“He what?”
Carson very rarely lost his temper in the office, but he could tell by Georgia’s startled cringe that he’d just shouted loud enough for the people in Accounting to hear him. “I’m sorry,” he said more softly. “Just please tell me I didn’t hear you right.”
She didn’t need to answer him. He could tell by the distant look in her eye and her awkward, hunched posture with her arms crossed protectively over her chest that he’d heard her correctly. He’d always known Sutton was a bastard, but this time he’d gone too far.
“Don’t make me say it again, Carson,” she said softly.
He fought the protective urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her it would be okay. After the day she’d had, she probably didn’t want a man touching her. Even him. Considering how quickly she’d backpedaled from their kiss the other day, she probably didn’t want Carson touching her, ever.
Looking around his office, he decided maybe they needed a change of scene for this conversation. “Buy you a drink?” he asked.
Georgia looked down at her watch and sighed. “I’m not going to get any work done, so why not?”
It wasn’t an enthusiastic response, but he didn’t expect one given that she’d just come here straight from Sutton’s office. He grabbed his phone and escorted her to the elevator. They exited the building and crossed the street, heading down the block to an Irish pub where Carson and his brothers had spent a good bit of their time and money over the years.
Since the official business day hadn’t yet come to an end, the bar wasn’t crowded with the usual suits. They took a booth in a darkened corner. Carson ordered himself a Guinness and Georgia opted for a pint of hard cider. They sat quietly for a few moments with their drinks. He didn’t want to push her, but he needed the whole story. Brooks and Graham would be very interested in just how low Winchester had stooped today.
Georgia took a long sip of her drink and sighed heavily. “Well, the punch line is that he isn’t going to back down on the land. He doesn’t care if we’re building a children’s hospital or homes for one-legged orphan refugees. Well, actually that’s not entirely true,” she noted. “He said he might reconsider his position if I was willing to seriously consider his generous offer.”
Carson’s grip on his glass was so tight he worried he might crush the drink in his hand. “What was the offer?”
“First, he offered me a job as his director of public relations with a million-dollar signing bonus.”
That didn’t surprise him. Sutton was constantly cherry-picking employees from his competitors. They’d lost several high performers due to his below-the-belt tactics. But who offered a seven-figure bonus? “I never knew he was such a generous man,” he said with a flat tone.
“I wouldn’t call him that,” she chuckled. “It came with some very important fine print. I was also to become his mistress. Then, and only then, would he consider backing down on the land project.”
“Did he touch you inappropriately?” Carson hated to ask, but if Sutton crossed a line, Georgia could bring charges. She wasn’t his employee yet, but at the very least they could file a civil suit and drag his name through the mud.
“Not really.” Georgia rubbed her palms together thoughtfully. “He held my hand longer than I wanted him to, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”
“Thank goodness,” Carson said in a rush of breath he’d been holding. Just the thought of that old pervert laying a hand on Georgia made him want to punch his fist through the drywall. He felt bad enough about letting her go over there against his better judgment. If Sutton had gotten physically aggressive, Carson never would’ve forgiven himself. “I’m so sorry about all this. He’s an even bigger pig than I expected. Where was Ron during all of this? I told you he had to escort you over there.”
“He did. I just left him sitting in the waiting room as I told you I would.”
“You didn’t call for him when Sutton got inappropriate?”
“No. Like I said, he didn’t really touch me. He just made me an offer I didn’t accept,” Georgia said with a guilty look. She held up her hand to silence him. “I know, I know. But I had it under control. My finger was on the trigger of my pepper spray the whole time. Sutton is bold, and certainly arrogant, but he’s also smart. He’s not going to have a woman run screaming from his office. It would hurt business.”
That was probably true. The only thing Sutton Winchester liked more than women was money. He wasn’t about to ruin his business and jeopardize his cash flow. It didn’t make Carson feel any better. Georgia was confident in her ability to protect herself, but he had his doubts.
She was a petite woman. Curvy, but small. With her platinum waves and knockout body, she drew men’s eyes wherever she went. She had certainly drawn his gaze the first moment they met. A part of him hadn’t wanted to hire her just so he could ask her out to dinner instead. In the end, his brain had overridden his erection. She was smart, experienced and the perfect candidate for the position.
“Georgia,” he began, “I need to apologize to you.”
“You just apologized. Really, Carson, it’s not your fault. You warned me about what he was like. I just never dreamed he’d be that bold.”
Carson shook his head. “I’m certainly sorry about what happened today, but that’s not what I was apologizing for. I actually was talking about that kiss by the lake.”
Georgia’s soft, friendly expression hardened. He could tell she was uncomfortable with his bringing it up. “Carson, I—”
“No, let me say this,” he interrupted. “In the moment, it felt like the right thing to do. But after what happened today, I realize just how inappropriate it was. If I don’t recognize that, I’m just as bad as he is.”
Georgia reached across the table and took Carson’s hand. “You will never, ever be anything like that man. Don’t even think that for a second.”
Carson looked into her gray eyes, noting the touch of olive green that radiated from the center. It was an unusual color, one he’d never seen before. Her gaze seemed to penetrate him, as if she were seeing inside him in a way that made him uncomfortable. He looked down at their hands, which were still clasped atop the polished wood table.
It was only then that he allowed himself to notice how soft her skin felt against his. As he grasped her fingers, the blood started to hum in his veins. He remembered the sensation from the field, knew how long it would take him to recover from the reaction she stirred in him.
He didn’t understand it. Georgia was beautiful, but Carson had touched his fair share of beautiful women. She was smart and funny, and he’d been around women like that, too. But never, not once since he broke the seal on his manhood in high school, had a woman affected him the way Georgia did. Lately all it took was the lingering scent of her perfume in the hallways at work, and he was consumed with thoughts of her.
Carson hated Sutton for putting the moves on Georgia, but he understood fully why he had done it. She had the power to enchant a man without even trying. A million dollars was chump change to Sutton, especially when it was a corporate write-off, but it was still a significant offer. If it came to it, what would Carson be willing to pay to keep her with him?
All that and more.
Looking up, he realized Georgia’s expression had changed. She was no longer softly consoling him. Now her brow was lined with concern, and he realized it was because he was still holding her hand as though he might be repelled from the face of the earth if he didn’t cling to her.
He immediately let her hand go and buried his own beneath the table. “I’m sorry. That probably just made it worse. I...I don’t know why I have such a hard time maintaining a professional distance when I’m around you, Georgia. I’ve never had this problem before.”
She nodded curtly and took another large drink, finishing off her glass without meeting his gaze. “I understand. We’re both human, after all. We work together a lot, so the temptation is there. But we’re strong, smart people. We can fight it.”
Georgia said the words, but as he looked at her, he wasn’t entirely sure she believed them. For the first time, the pieces started to click together in Carson’s mind. She’d said “we,” as in she was attracted to him, as well. That would certainly explain her flushed cheeks when he greeted her in the hallway and her more than enthusiastic response to his kiss. It was one thing for him to be attracted to her, but knowing the feeling was mutual would make this all ten times harder.
They needed to focus on work. That was what they were good at, what offered the best distraction. Going over their conversation about Sutton in his mind, he decided to talk strategy going forward. “So what is our next step?” he asked. “We’ve got to secure that land no matter what Sutton wants.”
A sly smile spread across Georgia’s face. There was a twinkle of mischief in her gray eyes as she looked at him and said, “Next, we play dirty.”
* * *
Smile. Look into the camera. Focus.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming today,” Georgia began, ignoring the camera flashes and microphones in her face. Because she was PR director, press conferences fell into her job description, but she was always filled with nerves in front of the camera. Especially today. This was her moment to turn the tide with the land deal, and she couldn’t screw it up.
“The Newport Corporation is a family company. It was founded by brothers Brooks, Graham and Carson Newport as a small real estate venture that turned into much more. CEO Carson Newport once told me that he knew they were a success when they were able to buy their mother, Cynthia Newport, a home and let her retire early.
“The love these three men had for their mother is why I’ve asked you to be here today. With her newfound free time, Cynthia discovered a purpose in working with sick children at the local hospital. She spent hours there reading stories, playing games and helping children forget—if for just a short time—about the pain and fear they lived with each day.”
Georgia looked down at her notes and confirmed her next point. “The entire Newport Corporation was extremely saddened to hear about the sudden loss of Cynthia Newport two months ago. Without warning, she was stricken with a brain aneurysm, and there was nothing that could be done. She was only fifty-five years old.
“Cynthia’s sons have decided that the best way to honor their mother’s memory is to put their resources and expertise into the cause that was so dear to her heart. Ladies and gentleman,” she said, reaching for the easel beside her, “I give you the plans for the Cynthia Newport Memorial Hospital for Children.”
She removed a blank placard and revealed the artist’s rendering of the hospital underneath. Georgia waited a moment for the cameras to stop flashing before she continued. “Newport Memorial will be the most sophisticated facility for children in the US. They will provide cutting-edge technology, the best treatment and the most skilled staff available.”
Georgia spied Carson standing near the back of the crowd of reporters. Quite a few had showed up today for the press conference, huddling in a semicircle in the garden courtyard of the Newport building. Even then, he was easy to spot, especially with his brother, Brooks, beside him. The COO was almost always the tallest man in the room unless Graham was in the office. The two of them were like Norse gods in expensive suits.
Carson was like a demigod, half man, half immortal. Just real enough for her to feel like she could stand a chance with him, but enough of a fantasy to keep her pessimistic feet firmly planted on the ground.
Losing her place in the speech, she tore her gaze away and flicked over the neatly printed lines of the press statement. “After an exhaustive search, the Newport Corporation has identified an ideal spot for the hospital overlooking Lake Michigan. Unfortunately, we are not the only company with our eyes on the land. Recently, Elite Industries has announced, perhaps prematurely, their plans to build luxury condominiums along the water.
“It is our hope that with enough community support, we can make the Newport Memorial Hospital a reality, no matter how much money our competitors might try to throw around. The community needs this facility for our children far more than we need additional fancy housing for Chicago’s wealthy.”
She reached for the artist’s rendering and set it aside to display a graphic of their social media campaign. “Show your support by posting on social media using the hashtag #NewportMemorial4Kids and letting the community know how you feel. Together, we can make this dream a reality. Now, I’ll be taking any questions.”
Georgia fielded about ten questions from the reporters about the project before ending the press conference. “Thank you,” she said as she gathered up her note cards and slipped away from the podium. Moving through the crowd packing up their equipment, she found Carson and Brooks at the back where they’d been standing earlier. “How’d I do?” she asked.
“Amazing,” Carson said with a pleased grin.
“There’s no way Winchester’s offer stands a chance with the seller after that.” Brooks held up his cell phone. “Two of the stations aired this live, and there have already been over two hundred tweets under our hashtag. When this re-airs during the evening news, it will explode.”
Georgia gave a heavy sigh of relief. She hoped this worked. If the owners were more interested in money, Winchester could still win them over.
After the press cleared out, they headed back upstairs to the executive floor. Brooks followed Carson into his office, where they poured a celebratory glass of scotch.
“Would you care for a drink, Georgia?” Brooks asked. “You certainly earned it.”
“Actually, I think I’ll pass,” she said. The adrenaline that had gotten her though the press conference was fading, and she was ready to crash. “If you two don’t mind, I think I’d like to catch an early train home and watch our segment on the news on the couch with some takeout.”
She dismissed the flicker of disappointment on Carson’s face. “Understandable,” he said. “Keep the phone nearby, though. If the seller accepts our offer, you’ll be the first person I call.”
Georgia gave them a wave and slipped down the hallway to her office. She quickly gathered her things. If she could get to the “L” platform in the next ten minutes, she’d catch the express train.
She found herself at her building about a half hour later. Once she reached her apartment door, she gave a heavy sigh of relief. Georgia loved her loft. It was the first thing she’d bought when she secured her first real executive position with a major company. She could barely afford it at the time but she had been desperate to be able finally to have a home of her own.
She hadn’t had the easiest time growing up. Her mother had been a teenage runaway when she was born. Georgia didn’t remember much about those early years, but her caseworker, Sheila, had told her when she was older that her mother had developed a heroin addiction and was working as a prostitute for drugs. Georgia had been taken away and placed in foster care when she was only three.
From there, she’d become a Ping-Pong ball, bouncing from place to place. She never lived anywhere longer than a year, and none of those places ever felt like home. She tried not to let her mind dwell too much on her childhood in Detroit, but she’d let enough of the dirty homes, strict or even abusive foster parents and secondhand everything through to let her appreciate what she had now.
This loft, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and modern, industrial elements, was everything she’d ever wanted. The walls were painted in warm, inviting colors and the plush furniture was overflowing with pillows. The kitchen was state-of-the-art despite the fact that she never cooked. She could swim in her master bathtub and have a party in the shower. She had a service come in to clean once a week, so the place was always spotless.
It was wonderful. The perfect escape from the world. Even the longest, hardest day at the office couldn’t keep the smile from her face when she walked in the door each evening.
Tonight she went through her nightly ritual. She set down her purse and disappeared into the bedroom to change. She reemerged ten minutes later with her blond hair in a knot on the top of her head, her face scrubbed free of makeup and her favorite pair of pajamas on. She poured herself a glass of pinot grigio and grabbed her favorite Chinese delivery menu before she collapsed on her suede sofa.
The delivery man arrived with her dinner with just minutes to spare before the evening newscast. The segment on the Newport Corporation was in the second news block when she was about halfway through her kung pao chicken. She didn’t like watching herself on camera, but she forced herself to do it anyway. Her speech professor had made all the students do it. It was the only way to truly see the nervous ticks and language crutches she used when she spoke in public.
All in all, not bad. Her voice was sultry, like a phone sex operator, but there was nothing she could do about it. She’d tried a million times to alter it, but it sounded fake. On the upside, she used the word “uh” only twice and she didn’t use “like” at all. Professor Kline would be very proud of her.
At the end of the segment, the news station flashed the campaign hashtag on the screen and encouraged viewers to use it to show their support. Georgia reached for her phone to check on the response. There were thousands of posts on Twitter with even more on other platforms. They were even trending.
Georgia chewed nervously at her thumbnail as she watched the posts scroll down the screen. This might actually work. She really, truly hoped so. The idea of Winchester taking that land and building condos on it made her stomach turn. She knew from experience that things weren’t always fair or just in life, but she certainly hoped she was about to outsmart the system.
The rest of the newscast dragged on. She sat in front of the TV, idly chewing her dinner and not listening to anything. She was waiting for that phone to ring. It just had to ring.
She was on her second glass of wine when the news ended, and still no call. Georgia paced anxiously across the concrete floor, gazing out at her view of the city. The sun was just setting, making the Chicago skyline a stark silhouette against the golden glow of the sky. Lights were starting to turn on around town, slowly transforming the hard, industrial shapes of downtown into a sparkling constellation.
Georgia was so lost in her thoughts that when the phone rang, she jumped nearly six inches off the ground. Turning on her heel, she ran back to the kitchen and snatched her phone off the countertop. It was Carson.
She held her breath in anticipation as she picked up. “Yes?” she answered.
“Our offer has been accepted!” he announced triumphantly. “They said it was the highest and in the end, they decided to accept it and not start a bidding war because of the newscast. We got it, Georgia, and it’s all because of your hard work.”
“Thanks,” she said, dismissing his compliment. “It’s not hard to get behind a project like this when the lives of sick children are at stake. It made my work pretty easy, I have to say. I’m very happy our project can go forward.”
“It will. Once the paperwork is signed, I want to have a grand groundbreaking ceremony. Your group will be heading up that effort. But first, we’re going to kick off the project with a cocktail party on Friday night to celebrate. Rebecca is putting it together as we speak. Wear your dancing shoes.”
Four (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
The sale was really happening. The lawyers were handling the details and it was off Georgia’s plate. At least for now. Once the land was officially the property of the Newport Corporation, she would start the groundbreaking-ceremony preparation. After that, she had no doubt there would be charity fund-raiser events and a million other tasks on her plate to handle.
But tonight was for celebration, not work.
Carson’s assistant had rented out a chic little bistro on the Magnificent Mile for the party. Wine was flowing like water, a jazz band was playing at a tasteful level in the corner and everyone was mingling and laughing. Every employee, from the janitor to the executives, had loved Cynthia. They knew how important this was to the brothers and were excited about this being the next new project on the agenda.
Folks had put on their fanciest cocktail attire for the night. At least, the women had. There was a rainbow of slinky and sparkly dresses in the room. Georgia herself had opted for a muted gold snakeskin cocktail dress by Tom Ford. It was a little showy, but with a high, scooped neck and long sleeves, it was also very modest, which she liked. The gold complemented her skin tone and brought out the darker tones of her platinum hair. The dress also didn’t really need any jewelry to enhance it, so she’d been able to wear a simple pair of diamond stud earrings.
As usual, the men fell back on their arsenal of suits, although Georgia didn’t mind a bit. She enjoyed the look of a man in a nice suit, especially the Newport brothers. Theirs were custom fitted to their broad shoulders and narrow hips. All three of them were milling around the room, drinks in hand. They were a ridiculously handsome trio, and every single woman in the room was eyeing the bachelors with interest. Except Georgia.
She turned away from them and glanced self-consciously around the room. She knew she should have been socializing, but she was happy to loiter at her cocktail table in the corner, watching the action. She loved working at the Newport Corporation. The people here were the family she’d never had. But at the same time, she wasn’t really great with this kind of social setting. Perhaps it was a handicap of her childhood. She’d moved too much to make friends and never had family she could count on. She watched the world go by from the fringe.
“Good evening, Georgia.”
At the sound of a man’s voice, Georgia turned to her left, startled. She was shocked to find Sutton Winchester standing so near her that they nearly brushed shoulders.
Biting down her irritation with him from earlier in the week, she smiled. “Good evening, Mr. Winchester.” After all, she’d won the battle. She should have been happy to see him and gloat about her victory.
He held up a glass of white wine. “I got you a refill,” he said.
Georgia looked down and noticed she had only half a sip left in her own glass. She set it on the table and accepted the fresh drink. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
“I’m not a complete bastard,” he said with a wry smile as he turned to look at the crowd she’d been eyeing a moment before.
“The jury is still out on that one.”
Sutton chuckled heartily before it disintegrated into a string of harsh coughs. “Pardon me,” he said, clearing his throat.
“So, what brings you to our little celebration tonight, Mr. Winchester? You don’t have any pig’s blood stashed in the rafters or anything, do you?”
“Not at all. I was actually invited,” Sutton said with emphasis. “I’m sure the Newport boys want to rub their victory in my face. I’m happy to drink wine on their tab while they do it. Besides that, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Me?” Georgia turned to him with her brow lifted in surprise.
“Yes. I saw your press conference the other day. I wanted to tell you what a good job you did with it. You worked the press and the social media outlets beautifully. The owner had no real choice but to sell to Newport after that. I underestimated your talent, Georgia. You’re much more than just a pretty face. Knowing that makes me want you on my team even more. Come work for me. I’ll bump that bonus up to 1.2 million dollars if you’ll consider it.”
Georgia couldn’t believe the nerve of him to come into their celebration and proposition her again. “That’s very generous of you, but I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester. The answer is still no.” She glanced around the crowd, looking for an escape, but everyone seemed involved in other conversations.
He nodded, sipping his drink and pursing his lips in thought. “I understand you feel a sense of loyalty to the Newports, but this offer doesn’t have to be a package deal. What about the other position we discussed?”
The other position? As his mistress? Every muscle in Georgia’s body tensed as she felt the older man take in every inch of her. She hadn’t been expecting to see Sutton tonight. She was dressed quite differently than she had at his office. Her gold dress covered all the necessary skin, but it was clingy. And short. And the back was completely bare to contrast with the chaste front. She wished she was wearing a caftan instead. Or that she could dump her wine on him and tell the pervert to go to hell. But that was unprofessional. She would hold it together and get away from him as soon as she was able.
“I’m not interested in any of the offers,” she said as forcefully as she could. “It doesn’t matter how much money is involved.”
Sutton narrowed his gaze at her. He looked a bit befuddled, as though he didn’t quite understand what she was saying to him. He was a man used to getting his way, and Georgia wasn’t playing by his rules. “May I ask why?”
Georgia searched her brain for a reason with which he couldn’t argue. He was a shrewd businessman who could likely destroy any argument as surely as an attorney during cross-examination. She didn’t want to leave any room for hope on his part.
“Georgia?” Sutton pressed.
“Fine,” she said as the idea suddenly crystallized in her mind. Good or bad, it was all she had. “I’m not going to be your mistress because I already have a lover.”
He looked shocked. Georgia wasn’t certain if she should be insulted by his response. “Who?” he asked.
“Carson Newport.” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them, surprising even herself.
She wasn’t the only one. Sutton’s eyes were wide. He turned his head, and Georgia followed his gaze to where Carson was standing only a few feet away. He must have seen Sutton with her, because it looked as though he was on his way to rescue her from Winchester’s clutches. Her words had stopped Carson cold. He was frozen in place, his drink clutched in his hand.
“Carson Newport is your lover?” Sutton asked with an incredulous tone.
Was it so unbelievable that a man like Carson would be interested in her? She didn’t know what to say to his question. Georgia thought she might be caught in a lie. She hadn’t expected Carson to overhear all of this. Now his reaction was key to selling her story. Before she could respond, Carson sidled up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“Surprised, Sutton?”
The old man turned to him and shrugged. “To be honest, I didn’t think you had it in you, Carson.”
Carson leaned in to nuzzle Georgia’s ear and plant a searing kiss on the sensitive skin on her neck. “Go with it,” he whispered softly.
She tried to do as he said and not tense in his arms, even as a thrill of arousal ran through her body. Leaning into his touch, she let her eyes flutter closed for a moment. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t hard to feign interest in him. Such a simple touch had lit up her nerves like Christmas lights.
She opened her eyes in time to see Carson turn back to Sutton with a grin. “You’re not having the best week, are you? You were after waterfront property and a woman, and I bested you on both. You must be losing your touch, old man.”
With a clenched jaw, Sutton looked over both of them and slammed back the last of his drink. “I’m not the kind of man who gives up that easily, Carson. Enjoy her while you can,” he suggested before turning on his heel and stomping through the crowd to the exit.
Once he was gone, Georgia took a step away from Carson and covered her mouth with her hand to smother her embarrassment. “Oh, Carson,” she said. “I am so sorry. He put me on the spot and it just came out.”
Carson put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “Not to worry. It did the trick, for now, at least. I wouldn’t count on him letting it go entirely. Like he said, he’s not that kind of man. Then again, who would want to compete with me for a woman’s affections?”
At that, Georgia giggled, and the tension of the moment slipped away. Thank goodness he hadn’t read more into her naming him as her lover. “Hopefully no one was listening in on the conversation. I’d hate for rumors to start about us.”
“Oh, I’d say half the room heard you blurt out my name, but don’t worry about the rumors. Your boss knows it isn’t true, and he’s the only one who can fire you.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. The last thing I want to do is put my position at the Newport Corporation in jeopardy.”
“Well, if nothing else, I hear Sutton has a position open,” he said with laughter lighting his eyes. “Come on,” Carson said, slipping a comforting arm around her shoulder to guide her into the crowd. “No more hiding in the corner. This is your party, too. Let’s celebrate.”
* * *
Carson never went into the office on a Saturday if he could avoid it. He always tried to make the most of his time away from work so he could have a life. Or at least, so he’d have the time to have a life when he actually decided to get around to it.
The Newport brothers passed that same work-life balance philosophy on to their employees. That was why Carson was so surprised to see a light on when he walked down the hallway. It was Georgia’s office.
Curious, he paused in the doorway, hoping not to scare her. She was working intently at her computer, probably not expecting anyone to appear suddenly. He took the quiet moment to admire her without her knowing it. There was just something so appealing about Georgia. Of course, she was the blonde bombshell that most men desired, but even the little things drew him to her. At the moment, he found the crease between her eyebrows as she concentrated on her work appealing.
Today her hair was in a casual ponytail, something she would never wear to the office on an average workday. She was wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt and jeans. Carson realized in that moment that he’d never seen Georgia look like this before. She was always so professional and put together, even on a casual Friday. He appreciated that about her, but she looked so much younger and more easygoing today.
“You know, it’s rude to stare.”
Busted. Carson grinned wide and met Georgia’s amused gaze. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone here today. Nor did I think I’d find you in jeans.”
Georgia looked down self-consciously at herself. “Is that okay? I didn’t think anyone would see me. I’m usually here alone on the weekends.”
“It’s absolutely fine,” he said, although he was concerned by the rest of her response. “Are you here most weekends?”
“Yes. I like the quiet of the office. It lets me catch up on things and focus without calls or people coming by. I know the company is big on spending time with family, but I don’t have a family.”
Carson tried not to frown. He didn’t know much about Georgia. She was all work during business hours, so they hadn’t spent much time socializing. Her office was tidy and well decorated, but there weren’t any photos of family or friends on her desk or bookshelves. Now he knew why.
“What about you?” she asked. “Why are you in today? I thought after all that champagne last night that most people would be laid out until noon at least.”
He had woken with a slight headache, but nothing he couldn’t handle. As for why he was here, that was a good question. He’d gotten into his car, fully intending to drive to his mother’s home and make good on his promise to clean out the house. The next thing he knew, he was at work. “I thought I’d come in and check on some things.”
Georgia wrinkled her nose. “You’re avoiding something,” she said without a touch of doubt in her voice.
He sighed and slumped against her door frame. Was he that transparent? “I guess I am.”
“Anything I can help you with?”
Whereas he hadn’t been looking to drag anyone into the slog of work, he realized that he didn’t dread the task so much when he envisioned Georgia there with him. “No, no. You’ve probably got better things to do,” he argued.
“No, tell me,” Georgia insisted.
“I’m supposed to be cleaning out my mother’s house. I told Brooks and Graham that I’d go through everything and start getting it ready to sell. That’s where I intended to go today, but I ended up here instead. I don’t know why.”
“I can imagine that would be difficult,” she said. “Would you like me to go with you? I’d be happy to lend a hand. At the very least, I can offer moral support.”
It sounded great, but he still felt anxious about it. “Are you sure? Her house is about a half hour from here, up in Kenilworth.”
Georgia closed her laptop and stood up. She picked up her massive black purse and slung it over her arm. “I’m sure. Let’s go.”
He wasn’t going to argue with her. Without even making it as far as his own office, they turned around and headed back to the elevator.
They were on the expressway north before they spoke again. “So tell me,” Georgia began, “what’s going on here? I mean, if you don’t mind. I get the feeling this is about more than just sorting through your mother’s things.”
Carson gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel and focused his gaze intently on the traffic ahead of him. “Do you really want to know my tragic life story?”
Georgia snorted delicately. “I think I can trump you on tragic life stories.”
“Tell me about you, then.” Carson was far more interested in Georgia’s life than he was in rehashing his own.
She shook her head adamantly. “Nope. I asked you first. And besides, this trip is about you. I need to know if I’m treading into a mine field here.”
His brothers wanted him to dig up the truth about their father. If she was going to be there helping him, she needed to know. “Okay,” he relented. “My mother is the only real family we ever had. Our aunt Gerty died a long time ago, and she wasn’t really related to us. Losing Mom, we lost any connection we have to our roots. It’s been a difficult realization for us all.”
“I understand what that can be like,” Georgia said without elaborating. “Did your mother ever speak about her family or your father to you?”
“Rarely, and when we pushed her, nothing she said was good. She insisted that our father was abusive and she ran away from him in the middle of the night when we were still babies. She never would tell us where we lived before, his name or anything about the past. She made it very clear that she didn’t want us to find him when we were older.”
“That must be frustrating for you all,” Georgia noted. “Wanting to belong, yet having that fear that the truth would be worse than being alone.”
“Exactly,” Carson said with surprise in his voice. He didn’t expect her to be able to understand it all so easily. “Brooks and Graham want me to look for clues in the house. They seem convinced that the answers are hidden away somewhere. I’m not so sure, but I told them I would look. It’s our last chance at the truth. The rest died with Mom.”
That was probably the hardest part. Carson had gotten the feeling that maybe one day their mother might tell them the rest of the story. They weren’t children anymore. She had nothing to fear from her past because the boys could protect her, no matter what. Cynthia probably thought she had time to share the whole tale about where they came from, and then it was stolen away in an instant.
“I’ll help you find out the truth,” Georgia said.
As Carson exited the expressway and headed toward the house in Kenilworth, he found himself nearly overwhelmed with gratitude that she was here with him. That she understood. “Thank you” was all he could verbalize.
“I don’t know my real family, either,” she offered. “I grew up in the Detroit foster care system because my mother was a teenage runaway. She got into drugs and a lot of other nasty things and they took me away. I have no idea who my father is or anything about my family. My father’s name was left off the birth certificate. I don’t even know for certain that my last name is really Adams. She could’ve just picked that name out of the sky. Not having that link to your past and where you come from can make you feel like discarded paper drifting on the wind.”
Carson was surprised by her confession, but it made a lot of the pieces of the Georgia puzzle fall into place. Maybe that’s why he was so drawn to her. They were both lost, anchorless. “Have you kept contact with your mother at all over the years?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head and looking down into her hands folded in her lap. “I haven’t seen her since I was three and social services came for me. I wouldn’t really even know what she looked like if my caseworker, Sheila, hadn’t given me an old photo of her. I keep it in my purse.” Georgia reached for her bag and pulled out the photo.
Carson turned in to his mother’s driveway just as she handed over the picture. He put the car in Park and studied the worn photograph. The blonde girl in the picture was holding a towheaded toddler. She looked very young, not more than fifteen or sixteen. The late ’80s influences were evident in her big hair and heavy makeup, which didn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes or the hollowed-out cheeks. There were purple track marks on the girl’s arm.
“I think she looked a lot like me, but thinner. Harder. There wasn’t much life in her eyes by that point. Aside from that, I don’t have any memories of her that really stayed with me. I just remember the homes.”
In that moment, Carson was extremely thankful to his mother for everything she’d done for him and his brothers. They hadn’t had much, but she’d done all she could to keep them safe and healthy. Georgia hadn’t been so lucky. He handed the photo back to her. “Did you move around a lot?”
Georgia chuckled bitterly as she put the picture away. “You could say that. It was a blessing and a curse. If the family was horrible, I had the solace of knowing I wouldn’t be there long. If they were amazing and kind, I would cry every night knowing that eventually I would have to leave. The only constant in my life was Sheila. In a way, she became my family. She’s the one that helped me get into college by helping me write a million scholarship essays. She insisted that I make something of myself.”
“That was my aunt Gerty for us. She took us in after her husband died and made us her family. When she passed away, she left enough money for my brothers and me to go to college and start our business. Our mother insisted that we become the best version of ourselves we could possibly be. Without that kick start, I’m not sure what would’ve become of us. Everything we are is because of my mother and Gerty.”
Georgia reached out in that moment and took his hand. Her touch was warm and enveloping, like a comforting blanket. They sat for a moment in the driveway, silently acknowledging all that they’d shared.
His mother’s home stood like a monolith in front of them. Inside were all the memories, secrets and emotions of her life. Going inside felt like disturbing her grave somehow.
“Are you ready?” Georgia prompted him after a few minutes.
“No, but let’s go inside anyway.”
They climbed from his Range Rover and walked together toward the front door. Carson unlocked it and they stepped into the tile foyer. The house had always seemed so warm and welcoming before, but now it was cold and silent like a tomb. His mother had given it life.
“Where should we start?”
Carson looked around and pointed toward the staircase. “Let’s focus on her bedroom. If she was keeping any kind of secrets, I think that’s where they’d be.”
“Okay.” Georgia started for the stairs, but paused and turned back when Carson didn’t follow her. Her gray eyes questioned him.
Thank goodness she was here. He wouldn’t even have made it this far without her prompting. It was better this way. Get it done, get it over with. If Carson didn’t find anything about their family history, so be it. At least he and his brothers could move on with their lives. “I’m coming.”
Georgia reached out her hand to him until he took it. “My past may be buried forever, but we’re going to find your family, Carson. I can feel it.”
Five (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
Carson was getting discouraged. They’d gone through almost everything in his mother’s bedroom. Drawer by drawer, box by box, they’d sorted through for any personal effects and then bagged the remaining items up. Some clothes and accessories were for donation, some things were for the dump, and others, like her jewelry, were to be split up among the brothers.
Hours had gone by without a single discovery of interest. No skeletons under the bed, no dark secrets hidden away in the underwear drawer. They’d checked the pocket of every coat and the contents of each old purse. Nothing but used tubes of lipstick and some faded receipts. All that was left was a collection of shoe boxes on the very top shelf of the closet.
Carson eyed the boxes with dismay. They were likely to find nothing but shoes in them. Most of the boxes seemed like fairly new acquisitions from her life after he and his brothers had made their fortune—Stuart Weitzman, Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin... But one box caught his eye. On the very top of the stack, in the far back corner, was a ratty old box with a faded and curling Hush Puppies label on it. There was no doubt that box had been around in his mother’s closet for a very long time. Maybe even thirty years or so...
“There’s a shoe box in the very back corner that looks promising,” Carson said. Looking around, he was annoyed to find that it was out of his reach even with his height and long arms. “How can my mother not own a stepladder or something? I guess I’ll run downstairs and get a chair.”
“No,” Georgia insisted. “I’m sure I can reach it. I just need you to give me a boost.”
Carson looked at her with concern. “A boost?”
“Yes, just make a step for me to put my foot in your hands and boost me up. I’ll be able to reach it.”
It would be just as easy to go get a chair, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. He wanted into that box as soon as possible. Crouching over, Carson laced his fingers together and made a steady perch for Georgia’s shoe.
“One, two, three,” she counted, hoisting herself up.
Carson held her up and patiently waited for news. “Can you reach it?”
“It’s just beyond me. Hold on. Wait... I’ve...almost...got it!” A moment later, it came tumbling off the top shelf along with several others. Georgia lost her balance and dropped from his hands, colliding with his chest.
“Whoa there,” he said, catching her before she could bounce off him and hit the floor. He’d instinctively wrapped his arms around her, holding her body tight against his own. The contact sent a surge of need through his veins, making him hyperaware of her breasts molded to his chest. Every muscle in his body tightened, his pulse quickening in his throat as he held her. “Are you okay?” he asked as he swallowed hard.
She looked up at him with momentarily dazed eyes. “Yeah... I mean yes. I wasn’t expecting it to all rain down at once.” She pressed gently but insistently against his chest. Carson relinquished his hold and she took a step back. He breathed in deeply to cool his arousal and tried to focus on their discovery instead.
Georgia looked down at the floor of the closet and the mess they’d made. There were several pairs of shoes scattered around the floor. The shoe box they’d sought out, the oldest one in the bunch with the peeling Hush Puppies label, had come open, too. As expected, there was not a thirty-year-old pair of shoes in it. Instead the paper contents had scattered everywhere, making the closet look as if a blizzard had struck.
They both crouched down and started sorting through the mess. Carson found a few pictures bundled together with a piece of twine. He untied them and sifted through the images. A couple were of him and his brothers when they were small. Things like Christmas morning and school pageants. There was one of his mother when she was very young, maybe even a teenager. After that were a few with his mother and some other people he didn’t recognize. He flipped the pictures over, but there was no writing on the back, no clue as to whether the other people were family or friends.
Setting them aside, he picked up some old newspaper clippings. Most of the pieces were about a missing girl named Amy Jo Turner. He scanned one of the articles looking for clues about his mother, but all it talked about was the circumstances surrounding the teenager’s disappearance and how the authorities presumed the worst. Her boat had been found drifting empty in a lake. A single shoe and the sweater she was last seen in had washed up a mile away about a week later.
The header was for a paper in Houston, Texas, and the dates were all in the early ’80s before Brooks and Graham were born. Their mother had never mentioned Houston, much less that she might have lived there at some point. Who was Amy Jo Turner? What did any of this have to do with his mother? It was important enough for her to keep the clippings for thirty years, but he didn’t understand why.
“Carson,” Georgia said, drawing his eye from the photos. “Look at this.”
He took a discolored envelope from her hand and unfolded the letter inside it. It was a handwritten letter addressed to his mother. Impatient, he skimmed through the words to the bottom where it was signed “Yours always, S.” Returning to the top, he read through it again, looking for clues to the identity of the writer that he might have missed the first time.
Dearest Cynthia,
You don’t know how hard it’s been to be away from you. I know that I’ve put myself in this position, and I can’t apologize enough. I seem to destroy everything that I love. You and the boys are probably better off without me. I hope that one day you can forgive me for what I’ve done to you. Know that no matter how much time has passed, my feelings for you will never fade. You have been, and always will be, the one true love of my life.
Yours always, S
That was totally and completely useless. All Carson got from it was an initial. He flipped over the envelope to look at the postmark. The date sent a sudden surge of adrenaline through him. It was a Chicago postmark dated seven months before he was born. That meant something. Could this lover, this “S,” actually be his father? Why couldn’t the man have written his name and made it easier on them all?
“What do you think?” Georgia asked tentatively after a few minutes.
Turning the letter over in his hand, Carson ran his gaze over the words one last time. “I think the person who wrote this letter is my father. It’s the biggest lead I’ve ever had and yet somehow, I don’t feel like I’m any closer to finding out his identity than I was before. What good is one initial?”
“It’s more than you had before,” she said in an upbeat tone.
Carson wasn’t feeling quite as optimistic. “Anything else interesting?” he asked.
Georgia shuffled through some more envelopes that were bound together with a rubber band. “These are old pay stubs. She’s kept them going back for years and years. Other than that, not much, sorry.”
Carson nodded and started putting everything back into the shoe box. “That’s okay. We found something. That should make my brothers happy. I’ll hand this over to them and let them analyze to their hearts’ content. Let’s pack up the last of these shoes and call it a day.”
They slowly gathered up all the bags and boxes and hauled them downstairs to the foyer. When he looked down at his watch, Carson realized he’d kept Georgia here far longer than he’d expected to. “Wow, it’s late. I’m sorry about that. I hijacked your whole Saturday.”
Georgia set down a bag of clothes and shrugged. “I would’ve spent it working anyway. I told you I’d help. I didn’t put a time limit on it.”
“Well, thank you. I got through that faster with you here. I might have given up long before I found that box. There’s still more to go through, but I think what I was looking for is right here,” he said, holding the old shoe box. “I’d like to make it up to you. May I buy you dinner?”
Georgia studied his face for a moment, her pert nose wrinkling as she thought it over. Finally she said, “How do you feel about Chinese takeout?”
* * *
“Can you pass me the carton of fried rice?”
Georgia accepted the container and used some chopsticks to shovel a pile out onto her plate beside her sesame chicken and spring roll. The Chinese place a block from her loft was the best in town. She ate there at least three times a week. Carson hadn’t seemed too convinced about her dinner suggestion at first. He must have wanted to take her someplace nice with linen napkins or something, but she’d insisted.
They drove back downtown to her place, then walked up the street together to procure a big paper bag full of yum and grab a six-pack of hard cider from the corner store. That was her idea, too. Lobster and expensive wine were nice, but honestly, nothing topped a couple of cartons of Jade Palace delicacies eaten around the coffee table.
“Wow,” Carson said after taking a bite of beef and broccoli. “This is really good.”
“I told you. It’s all amazing. And really, you have to eat it while you sit on the floor. It adds to the experience.”
Carson chuckled at her and returned to his food. She’d expected him to turn his nose up at eating on the floor around her coffee table, but he’d gone with it. She had a dining room table, but she almost never ate there. It was the place where she worked on her laptop, not ate.
“I lived with a family for a while that ate every meal around the coffee table,” Georgia explained. “They didn’t watch television or anything. It was just where they liked to be together. There were about six of us who would crowd around it and eat every night, talking and laughing. I really enjoyed that.”
“Those moments are the best ones,” Carson agreed. “There are some days when I’d give up every penny I’ve ever earned to be a kid again, watching old movies and eating popcorn with Aunt Gerty and Mom. My brothers and I get together and do it every few weeks, but it’s not the same.”
Georgia watched her boss’s face softly crumble into muted sadness as he stared down at his plate, shoveled some chicken into his mouth and chewed absentmindedly. She knew what it was like to miss people that you could never have back in your life. She’d always consoled herself with the idea that there was something better in her future. “You’ll make new moments,” she reassured him. “And one day when you have a family of your own, your children will treasure the little things you share with them just the same.”
“That feels like it won’t happen for decades. Honestly, just the idea of a family of my own seems impossible. I work so much. And even if I found the perfect woman, I’d feel like a fraud somehow. How can I be a father when I don’t know what it’s like to have one?”
“You’ll figure it out. Just start by being there and you’ll already have both our fathers beat. You’re a good guy, Carson. I have no doubt that it will come naturally to you.”
“What about you? You’re not going to have a family of your own while you spend all your free time at work.”
Georgia knew that. A part of her counted on it. What good was starting a relationship when it was just going to end? People always left her—life had proven that much—so she kept her relationships casual and avoided more disappointment. “Right now, the Newport Corporation and its employees are my family. The only family I’ve ever had. For now, that’s enough for me.”
“So you’re not dating anyone?” Carson asked.
Georgia’s gaze met his with curiosity. Was he really fishing for information or just being polite? “Haven’t you heard? Carson Newport is my lover.” She punctuated the sentence by popping the last bite of food into her mouth and putting her chopsticks across the plate in disgust. She could really put her foot in her mouth sometimes.
Carson chuckled and set aside his own utensils. Leaning onto his hand, he looked at her over the coffee table and said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Why not?” she said. They’d already covered their painful childhoods. What could be worse than that?
“Why did you tell Sutton I was your lover last night?”
That. That could be worse. “I, uh...” Georgia started, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. “It just popped into my head,” she said as she got up and carried a few dishes into the kitchen.
Carson didn’t let her escape. He followed her with the last of their dinner and set it on the counter beside her. “That’s it?” he asked as he leaned his hip against the counter. He was so near to her that her senses were flooded with the scent of his cologne and the heat of his body.
With a sigh, Georgia turned to face him. This wasn’t junior high; she needed to be a grown-up about this. The movement put her so close to him that they almost touched, but she felt childish taking a step back. “It was just wishful thinking,” she said, letting her gaze fall to the collar of his shirt.
Carson’s hand came to rest at her waist. “Georgia?” he asked softly.
She almost couldn’t answer with him touching her. The hem of her T-shirt just barely brushed the waistband of her jeans, and his fingers had come to rest in part on her bare skin. It was a simple touch, and yet it made her heart stutter in her chest and her breath catch in her throat. “Yes?”
He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her head up until she had no choice but to look at him. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and a touch of excitement as her gaze met his. His sea-green eyes searched her face as his lips tipped upward in a smile of encouragement. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Georgia almost couldn’t hear him for the blood rushing in her ears. Had that kiss the other day been more than just excitement and champagne? “Why?”
Carson slid his hand around to her lower back, pulling her body flush against his own. “Because I lie in bed at night and think about that kiss we shared. I’ve fantasized about holding you in my arms again. I know that I shouldn’t because you work for me, but I can’t help it. And now that you’ve announced to half the company that we’re lovers and the world didn’t end... I don’t have any reason to hold back any longer.”
The longer he spoke, the more she fell under his spell. He was right. Their work relationship could survive this if they handled it like adults. They were attracted to each other. A little indulgence couldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t turn into anything serious and impact their business dealings. No one else seemed to care except Sutton.
“Then don’t,” she said, boldly meeting his gaze.
He took her at her word. Carson’s lips met hers without hesitation. His kiss was powerful yet not overwhelming. Georgia stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck and draw herself closer to him. When his tongue sought her out, she opened to him and melted into his touch.
She had thought the kiss at the hospital property was amazing, but that was nothing, nothing like this. This kiss was like a lightning bolt to her core. As his hands rubbed her back and his fingers pressed into her flesh, all she could think about was how badly she needed Carson.
“I want you,” she whispered against his lips.
Carson broke away from her mouth and trailed kisses along her jawline to the sensitive hollow of her neck. “You’re going to have me,” he said in a low growl at her ear.
His mouth returned to hers, hungrier than before. This was no longer just a simple kiss. It was officially foreplay. Without breaking the kiss, he walked them backward through the kitchen until her legs met with the dining room table. Georgia eased up onto it until she was sitting on it with Carson nestled snugly between her denim-clad thighs. She could feel his desire pressing against her, sending a shiver of need down her spine.
Carson slipped his hand beneath her shirt to stroke the smooth skin of her back and press her even closer to him. He gripped the hem and in one fluid move pulled her T-shirt up and over her head, throwing it to the floor. He took in the overflowing cups of her bra before he reached over his shoulder to tug his own shirt off.
His mouth moved quickly to her collarbone, traveling lower to taste her breasts. Georgia unfastened her bra and slipped it off her arms. She didn’t want anything else between them. This was the skin-on-skin contact she’d craved, and she wanted it now.
Carson groaned at the sight of her before he covered both her breasts with his hands. She felt her nipples tighten as his palms grazed over them. He moved his lips and tongue over her skin, tasting every inch of her exposed flesh before he drew one tight bud into his mouth.
“Carson!” she cried out as the sharp stab of pleasure shot straight to her inner core. She arched her back, pressing herself closer to him and to the touch she desperately craved.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” she gasped as she looked up at the ceiling.
He planted a kiss on her sternum. “Believe it, beautiful.”
Georgia closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations he was eliciting from her body. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more of his pleasurable torture, she felt his hand slide down her stomach to her jeans. She lifted her hips as he slid them and her panties down her legs.
As he stood, his eyes devoured her naked body. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a condom and set it on the table beside her. He kissed her again and let his hand wander over her bare thigh as he did. Carson dipped his fingers between her legs, brushing over her sensitive skin and sending a shiver through her whole body.
He did it again, harder, and this time Georgia cried aloud when he made contact. “Do you like that?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” she said.
Encouraged by her response, he stroked again and again until she was panting and squirming at the edge of the table. He built up the release inside her so quickly, she could hardly believe it until it was almost too late.
“Stop,” she gasped, gripping his wrist with her hand. “Not yet. I want you inside me.”
“Very well,” Carson agreed. His gaze never left hers as he unfastened his pants and sheathed himself quickly. He settled back between her legs, and Georgia felt him press against her.
“Yesss,” she hissed as he slowly sank into her.
Carson hooked his hands around the backs of her knees and tugged her to the very edge of the table. If he let go, she’d fall, so she wrapped her legs around his rib cage and drew him in deeper. Judging by his sharp intake of breath, he wasn’t going anywhere.
He gripped her hips, holding her steady as he started to move in her. Every stroke set off fire bursts beneath her eyelids as they fluttered closed. Georgia arched her back and braced her hands on the table as their movements became more desperate.
How had she even gotten here? This morning, she’d gone into work with few expectations for the day. By nightfall, she was fulfilling her biggest fantasy with Carson and on the verge of an amazing orgasm. She could feel it building inside her. He coaxed the response from her body so easily, as though they were longtime lovers.
“So close,” she said between ragged breaths.
Carson seemed to know just what to do to push her over the edge. Rolling his hips forward, he thrust harder, striking her sensitive core with each advance. In seconds, Georgia was tensing up in anticipation of her undoing.
Then it hit. It radiated through her body like a nuclear blast. She clung to Carson’s shoulders as the shockwaves of pleasure made every muscle tremble and quiver. They rode though it together. With her final gasp, her head dropped back and her body went limp in his arms.
“Georgia,” he groaned, thrusting hard into her. He surged forward and gasped against the curve of her throat as he poured into her.
Georgia cradled him against her bare chest as he recovered. Thoughts swirled through her mind as the sexual haze faded away and she realized she’d just had sex with her boss on the dining room table.
Before she could say anything, Carson straightened up and wrapped his arms around her waist. He lifted her from the table and carried her through the living room. “Bedroom?” he asked.
“Upstairs,” she said.
“Of course it is.”
With a smile, he carried her upstairs to the master suite that overlooked the downstairs. He placed her gently on the bed and moved quickly to strip off his remaining clothes before crawling onto the mattress beside her. He tugged her back against him and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Georgia was surprised to find him ready for her so quickly. “Again?” she asked.
“Oh yes. And this time, it will be in a proper bed.”
“At least I can say I used the dining room table this year,” she said with a wicked grin.
Six (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“You won’t believe what I’ve dug up!”
Brooks and Carson were talking business in Carson’s office when Graham charged in with his bold declaration. Carson had been waiting for this moment since he turned over the shoe box to his older brothers. It had been nearly a week since the discovery and his encounter with Georgia.
After giving Graham the box of paperwork, Carson had returned his focus to Georgia. Work had sucked up the majority of their time, as usual, but he was looking forward to the weekend and having another chance to meet up with her outside the office. At work, she was too tense. Despite the fact that he didn’t care if anyone knew they were seeing one another, she still wasn’t comfortable with it.
The contents of the shoe box had slipped his mind as the final paperwork on the hospital property went through and the finishing touches were put on the plans. Then Graham burst through his office door and it all came back to him.
Graham flopped into a chair at the table where Brooks and Carson were sitting. There was a light of excitement in his blue eyes, like he’d get when he had a breakthrough in a legal case. They’d given him the box because sorting through paperwork and finding clues was his specialty as a lawyer. Carson would’ve fallen asleep before he found anything important.
“Well?” Brooks prompted after several moments of silence.
“Well,” Graham began, “as I went through everything, I was surprised to find a few months’ worth of pay stubs from Elite Industries. Apparently Mom went to work there right before Brooks and I were born and stayed until seven months before she had you, Carson.”
Carson frowned. She’d never mentioned that, not once in all those years. Not even when they complained about their competitor around the dinner table. “I thought she worked as a waitress at the café with Gerty.”
“She did until she was in the third trimester of her pregnancy with Brooks and me. She went back to the diner again after her time with Elite. It looks as though she was laid off from her job after six months, although I don’t know why. The paperwork I found showed she was given a very generous severance package and a glowing letter of reference from her boss when she left. Guess who she worked for at Elite? Starts with an S...”
Carson’s stomach started to ache. He didn’t really want to know where this was headed.
“Sutton Winchester?” Brooks guessed with as much dread in his voice as Carson was feeling.
“Yep,” Graham confirmed, nearly boiling over with excitement. “She was his executive assistant.”
Carson pushed up from his chair and shook his head. “I need a drink. Anyone else?”
“I think we all could use one,” Brooks said.
Carson busied himself pouring them each a finger of scotch over ice. He carried the three short tumblers to the conference table and flopped back down into his chair with a sigh of disgust. Without waiting on his brothers, he took a large sip of the scotch, savoring the burn as it rushed down his throat into his empty stomach.
“So Mom was his executive assistant? That’s a big leap from a coffee shop waitress,” Brooks noted with a frown as he picked up his own glass.
It was. How could she have possibly qualified for a job like that? Knowing what Carson knew about Sutton, the answer wasn’t one he wanted to consider. Would his mother really have accepted that sleaze’s secretarial position when it came with sexual duties? Especially when she was seven months pregnant with twins? Or was she already his lover long before she went to work for him?
“Carson?” Graham said with concern in his voice. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
He understood why. He could feel the blood draining from his face as the reality of their past solidified in his mind. He hadn’t had enough scotch to handle this. No wonder their mother didn’t want them to know the truth. No wonder she said their father was a horrible person. He was. Still, he had trouble believing it could be true. It just couldn’t be. And yet...he knew the truth almost instinctively.
“He’s our father,” Carson blurted out.
Brooks narrowed his gaze suspiciously at Carson. “How can you be so sure?”
“The letter I showed you guys the other day from the box. It talks about hurting her, missing her terribly and how sorry he was about everything that happened. How she and the boys would be better off without him. It’s signed ‘S.’”
“That’s still a bit of a stretch,” Brooks argued. “There are a lot of people with a first name starting with S in the world.”
“Yes, but we’re talking about Sutton Winchester here. I don’t know if I told both of you, but when he demanded that Georgia meet with him, he offered her quite a sweet deal to come work for Elite Industries. The job came with a million-dollar signing bonus and the role of his mistress.”
Graham’s mouth dropped open, his glass of scotch hanging in his hand midair. “Are you serious? That old dog!”
Carson nodded gravely. “If that’s how Sutton recruits employees and lovers, it all makes sense. Say he met Mom at the diner and they started an affair. When she ends up pregnant, he offers her the job as his assistant so she would have medical benefits and maternity leave. Being on her feet all day carrying twins had to be rough on her. I can see why she would accept the offer, especially if she was put on bed rest or something until you two were born.”
Brooks looked at him thoughtfully. “If he went to all that trouble when she was pregnant the first time, why would he fire her when she was pregnant with you? It seems inconsistent.”
Carson shook his head. “I don’t know why. But I think it all goes back to the letter I found in the shoe box. It sounds to me like it might not have been Sutton’s decision to let her go.”
“Well,” Graham said, “he was married at the time. Do you think his wife found out about his family on the side and made him put an end to all of it?”
Brooks chuckled. “Have you met Celeste Van Houten? She’s one icy-cold woman. I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“We need proof,” Graham argued and ran his fingers through his blond hair. “If we want to know the truth, once and for all, we’ll need a paternity test. I doubt the old man will just go along with it to be nice, especially when it would mean we’d be eligible for a chunk of that multimillion-dollar estate of his when he dies. There’s no way I can compel a paternity test just on the basis of our mother having been his employee at the time of Carson’s conception. We need something that shows they actually had an affair.”
“Who would know aside from the two of them?” Brooks asked.
“That’s a tough one. Sutton wasn’t likely to broadcast what he was doing, even though it looks obvious to us.”
“Someone would have to know,” Carson insisted. “Maybe someone who worked for Sutton at the time at his office or his house.”
“That’s someplace we can start,” Graham agreed. “I’ll do some more digging and see what I can find. Maybe we’ll luck out and find someone who still remembers that far back. It’s been thirty years.”
Carson knew Graham was trying to be upbeat, but he could hear the discouragement in his voice. The odds of finding someone who knew about their mother’s relationship were pretty low. Most of Sutton’s employees were probably paid handsomely to keep their mouths shut. But if anyone could track them down, Graham could.
“It’s more than we knew a week ago,” Brooks said.
“That’s true,” Carson agreed. “I just wonder what the point of it would be.”
“What do you mean?” Graham asked.
“Well, we take the paternity test and we find out he’s our father. Then what? I don’t see this ending well.”
“It won’t, at least not for Sutton,” Brooks said. “We’re going to make him pay for what he did to our mother and to us.”
“How?” Carson asked. “The man has no conscience.”
“That’s true,” Brooks agreed. “But he does have a multimillion-dollar estate and we would be rightful heirs to it as well as his three legitimate daughters with Celeste. We go in and demand our share as his penance. I don’t care if we blow it all in a year, as long as we pry it from his cold, dead hands.”
“Wouldn’t most of the estate go to his wife?”
Graham shook his head. “Celeste is his ex-wife now and has been for a couple years. Her lawyers have already seized her share. The rest of his estate most likely goes to his daughters. No matter what, Sutton can change the will to include us if he wants to. We just have to give him a little encouragement.”
Carson tried not to frown. It all made sense. Sutton deserved it. He just didn’t like it. “Okay,” he said. “We find a way to push for a test, then go after the estate. There’s just one downside to all of this.”
“What’s that?”
“If we’re right, it means that Sutton Winchester is our father. Mom warned us up one side and down the other to stay away from our father. She said he was dangerous and we were far better off without him in our lives. I always thought that maybe she had exaggerated and that when we met him, we’d find he was a better man that we expected. But if it is Sutton... I worry that our worst fears about our father are about to come true.”
* * *
“Georgia?”
Georgia looked up from her barely touched dinner and found Carson looking at her with concern. She was lost in her thoughts and he’d caught her not listening.
After fantasizing about time alone with Carson for so long, she was letting it slip through her fingers. Tonight he’d insisted on taking her out to dinner someplace nice. He was wearing her favorite navy pinstripe suit. For some reason, that color against his tan skin made his green eyes pop. He was looking so handsome and yet she could barely focus on a word he said.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay? You seem...distracted tonight. Are you having second thoughts about the two of us being seen together publicly?”
Georgia shook her head. She had a lot on her mind, but surprisingly, the budding romance between her and Carson was not one of her worries. “No, no. I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind tonight.”
Carson nodded and picked up his wine. His plate was empty and the server came by to take it away. Georgia let him take hers, as well. She didn’t have much of an appetite and hadn’t since she’d gotten that phone call. The universe had basically ground to a halt at that moment, but no one seemed to notice but her.
“Want to talk about it? I’m all ears,” he said, taking a sip of his wine.
She was almost afraid to talk about what had happened out loud, but she did want to share it with someone. Carson was the only person she’d told about her past, and he might really understand what was going on and how important it was. The only other person she could tell was her former caseworker, Sheila. She’d avoided that call, however. Somehow she worried Sheila wouldn’t think this was a great development.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Well, yesterday evening, I got a phone call. From my mother.”
Carson perked up in his seat. “Your mother? Really?”
Georgia nodded. “I could hardly believe it myself. I’ve gone twenty-six years without her in my life, and then all of a sudden, she calls me out of nowhere. She said she saw my news conference about the hospital last week and hunted down my number to get in contact with me.”
“That must’ve been quite a shock.”
“You have no idea.” She’d actually been in tears. She held it together as long as she could, but once she hung up the phone, she’d bawled like a baby for twenty minutes. It was so surreal to pick up the phone and hear the voice of someone claiming to be her mother. She didn’t even remember what her mother’s voice sounded like, but it didn’t take long to figure out she really was talking to Misty Lynn Adams.
“What did she say?”
“Well, it wasn’t a long call, but she said she was getting her life back together and wanted to reconnect with me. I get the feeling this is part of a recovery program she’s in to stay clean and sober. She wants to come to Chicago and see me.”
“Wow,” Carson said, reaching across the table to take Georgia’s hand. “That’s really great. How do you feel about all this?”
That was the difference between telling this story to someone who grew up with both parents and telling someone like Carson, who knew what it was like to live without knowing your past. Anyone else would’ve asked if she was excited and happy. Those weren’t quite the words for it. Cautious was more like it. Hopeful, but not too much. Being hurt as many times as she had made her loath to jump in with both feet, but she was going to try.
“It’s a mix of emotions,” she admitted. “I want to see her and ask her some questions, but I don’t think we’re about to be best friends or anything. That’s going to take time, if it’s even possible. My mother is pretty messed up. I don’t know how long she’s had her act together, but if she relapses, I don’t want to get caught in it.”
Carson nodded sympathetically. “I understand. You want to know your family and have that relationship, but there’s a reason why they haven’t been in your life. Sometimes you wonder if it isn’t for the best.”
“Exactly. But I’m going to meet with her. I sent her some money to take the bus here from Detroit and she’s going to stay with me for a few days. We’ll see what happens.”
At her words, Carson frowned. He was silent as he watched her face for a moment. “Georgia,” he said at last, “is giving her money a good idea? And letting her stay with you? She’s a virtual stranger.”
She tugged her hand from his and buried it under the table. “I’ve thought of all that. It was only a hundred dollars for the bus ticket. If she blows it on drugs and never shows up, it was a relatively cheap lesson learned. But I have to have a little bit of faith if this is going to work.”
“But staying with you,” he pressed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
What little enthusiasm Georgia had about this development with her mother was starting to wane in the face of Carson’s skepticism. What did he want Georgia to do? Hide the good silver? She didn’t have good silver. Most of her money had gone into her loft and that was one thing her mother couldn’t take, no matter how hard she tried.
“What are my choices? If she can’t afford a bus ticket, she can’t afford a hotel. I’d have to pay for it, too. It’s only for a few days, Carson. If I feel remotely uncomfortable having her there, or leaving her there alone, I’ll get her a room somewhere, okay?”
Carson flinched at her sharp, defensive tone. “Listen, I’m sorry to be such a pessimist, Georgia, but I guess it’s just a by-product of how I grew up. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t,” she insisted. “I know I have to tread carefully with Misty, but I could use your support. I’ve encouraged your search for your father, and I’d really appreciate your support as I look into my own past.”
Carson got up from his side of the restaurant booth and sat down beside her. He wrapped her in a hug and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. “I support you one hundred percent. Don’t ever doubt that. I’m just worried about you, is all.”
Georgia eased into his embrace, letting her anxieties fade away in his arms. She supposed he was right to feel cautious about the whole thing. There wasn’t much point in jumping to Misty’s defense when she knew nothing about her. “Well, thank you. I’m not used to anyone worrying about me.”
“You’d better get used to it, although I’ll admit I could be just a little on edge after what Graham found. My mom had warned us that our father was a terrible person, but I never could’ve imagined that it could be Sutton Winchester. Of all the men in Chicago...”
Georgia had been quite stunned to hear the news herself. After he told her the rest of the story, it had made sense. Carson had Sutton’s mischievous green eyes, but she didn’t want to tell him that. At this point, she got the feeling he didn’t want to have anything in common with Sutton, especially common genetics. “What are you guys going to do?”
“Graham is going to try to track down someone who might remember the two of them being together back then. If we’re successful, we’ll push for a paternity test to know once and for all.”
Georgia nodded absently as he described their plans, but she could tell the brothers had little idea what they would do with the truth. “So if he is your father, then what?”
As she predicted, Carson frowned slightly. “I don’t know. I doubt we’ll be invited over for Thanksgiving dinner with his other children. If we play any role in his life, we’re going to have to fight for it. I think Graham and Brooks are more willing to battle than I am. I just keep thinking of my mother’s warnings. She kept him out of our lives for a reason. All things considered, do you really want him in my life?”
Georgia nodded. “I know I’m taking a risk by letting my mother come see me. It might work out, or she might be the same junkie who abandoned me. I’ve done pretty well without her. At the same time, I won’t let myself give up on her. With your parents, you stand there and let yourself get kicked in the teeth again and again in the hope that they will finally stand up and be the people you always dreamed of. That child in you is always craving that love and acceptance you didn’t get. If you give up on that, what’s left?”
“Everything else,” Carson argued. “Your mother was a broke, messed up kid who had no business taking care of a baby, but Sutton is the richest guy in Chicago. What’s his excuse? Sutton knows that we’re his kids. He hasn’t once sought us out in all these years. No birthday cards, no child support, not even a little lenience in business dealings. Why would I want a man like that in my life?”
“You won’t know for sure until you get to know him better.”
“I’ve never had a father, Georgia. I don’t know whether it’s better to have a lousy one and know the truth than to never have one and always wonder.”
“I understand. With the truth come things you may not want to know. I’m giving my mother this chance, but considering my father impregnated a teenage runaway with a drug problem, I think I’ll go with never knowing him. That way I can keep the fantasy father in my mind. I’d rather not know than find out he was her customer, or her drug dealer, or that he raped a young girl with no one to turn to.”
Carson carefully considered her words and then took the final sip of his wine. “Well, in the end I don’t get to make the decision, because there’s more than just me in the equation. My brothers want to see this through no matter what. Like it or not, I will know if Sutton is my father. As for what comes after that... I guess that all depends on dear old Dad.”
Georgia nodded and finished her drink. They were both in limbo when it came to their parents. She hated that feeling. For years, as she bounced from one foster home to the next, she had both hoped and worried that her mother would get her act together and take her home for good.
She had been excited about her mother seeking her out. She had made the first step, which is something Georgia had been adamant about. It wouldn’t have taken much to track down her mother, but she didn’t want to. Knowing that her mother had gone to the trouble of finding her felt good. Still, she was scared. And after talking to Carson about Misty’s visit, she wasn’t feeling as optimistic.
Georgia could already tell that she would spend all night lying in bed worrying about this. Her mother was due to arrive on Friday, so that meant days of anxiety until she knew for certain. She needed a distraction. Something to keep her mind off the situation. Work wouldn’t do it, but leaning into Carson’s chest and resting her head on his shoulder gave her a good idea of what might.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” she asked.
“I thought you wanted dessert.”
Reaching up to caress his stubble-covered jaw, Georgia turned his head until his full lips met with hers. She drank him in, letting her tongue curl along his as she gave a soft moan of approval. A sizzle of awareness traveled down her spine, making her suddenly warm and flush in the previously cold restaurant. All thoughts of Misty and Sutton faded away with his touch.
She was right. Losing herself in a night of passion with Carson was just what she needed. What they both needed. “I do,” she said as she pulled away and looked into his eyes with wicked intention.
“Then let’s go.” Carson smiled wide and scanned the bill the waiter had brought. He tossed some cash on the table for it and slipped out of the booth with Georgia’s hand in his own.
Seven (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“Rebecca, what is this three o’clock on my calendar today?” Carson waited impatiently for his assistant to answer him as he studied his computer screen. He hadn’t made this appointment, and he had no real clue who the woman was that he and his brothers were scheduled to meet in just a few minutes’ time.
Rebecca appeared in the doorway and shook her head. “I’m not really sure, sir. Graham called this morning and told me to add it. Did he not speak with you?”
No, he had not. But Carson didn’t want to worry Rebecca. “He may have and I just forgot. Thank you.”
Rebecca slipped back out of his office, leaving him to ponder the appointment. He didn’t have long to wait. Brooks showed up a few minutes later, eyeing his smart phone with dismay. “What’s the three o’clock about?”
Carson shrugged. “It’s Graham’s doing. He didn’t tell you, either?”
“Why would he do something like that?” Brooks flopped down into Carson’s guest chair and frowned. “Who is Tammy Ross? I’ve never heard of her.”
“She is Sutton Winchester’s retired housekeeper.” Graham appeared in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.
That was the last thing Carson expected. Why would they be meeting with Sutton’s old housekeeper, unless... “Does she know anything about Sutton’s relationship with our mother?”
Graham strolled at an obnoxiously slow pace across the Moroccan rug and sat down in the other chair. “She does.”
“Why not just tell us what she had to say? Why bring her here?”
“Because,” Graham insisted, “she wanted to talk to all of us in person. Apparently she feels bad about how it all went down back then. She’s a sentimental older lady who knew and liked our mother. Indulge her a little.”
“Mr. Newport,” Carson’s assistant chirped through the speaker phone. “Mrs. Ross is here to see you.”
“Right on time,” Graham said with a smile. He got up from his chair and went to the reception area. A moment later he returned with a petite older woman with short gray hair and a pleasant smile.
Carson and Brooks both stood to greet their guest. “Mrs. Ross,” Carson said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Please have a seat.” He gestured over to his conference table and followed the others there as they took their seats.
“Thank you for seeing me today. When Graham contacted me and I realized I was talking to one of the twins all grown up—” the woman’s dark eyes grew a little misty “—well, I knew I had to tell you everything I knew. My loyalty to the Winchesters ended with the paychecks.”
“I contacted the agency that Sutton hires household staff through,” Graham explained. “I was able to talk to someone and they passed along my number to her.”
“I read about your mother’s passing in the paper,” she said. “It was hard to believe that the vibrant young girl I knew was gone. Or that the babies I remembered were full-grown men.”
“How did you know about our mother?” Brooks asked.
“At first I knew Cynthia as Mr. Sutton’s secretary. She would call the house from time to time relaying his requests for dinner or telling me what shirt he wanted starched for the next day. She was sweet and we chatted some. She was very excited about her pregnancy, and having two children of my own, I relayed plenty of advice. After the twins—you—were born, I volunteered to babysit a couple of nights while she went out. I didn’t realize at the time who she was going out with or whose babies I was watching.”
“So our mother was seeing Sutton on the side?”
“Yes. From what I gathered, they were together long before she started working at Elite Industries. It wasn’t surprising, though. Your mother was a lovely young woman, just the kind Sutton liked. I think his marriage to Celeste Van Houten was more business than pleasure, so he was always on the prowl for...extracurricular entertainment.”
Carson’s stomach ached to think of his mother as just one in a line of women who had marched in and out of Sutton Winchester’s bedroom. She deserved better. A real love with a man who wanted to marry her and give her all the happiness in the world. Instead she’d raised his three children alone on a waitress’s salary. Carson wasn’t sure what their mother would’ve done without Gerty’s help.
“Finding out about you was the biggest shock,” Mrs. Ross said, looking at Carson. “Your mother must have left the company so soon into her second pregnancy that I didn’t even know she was expecting again. I’m sure that was part of Mr. Winchester’s plan. Mrs. Winchester was already beside herself over the relationship. I don’t think she knew about the twins, and I’m sure Mr. Winchester didn’t want anyone to know about you, either.”
“If he was so secretive, how do you know about all of this?”
The older woman smiled. “There are different kinds of rich people and in my day, I worked for them all. The Winchesters are the kind of rich people who see their employees as a lesser species. Sometimes Mrs. Winchester pretended I wasn’t even there. Or maybe she wasn’t pretending. Maybe I just wasn’t important enough for her notice. It was annoying, but sometimes it was useful.
“I remember one night Mr. and Mrs. Winchester really got into a row. She was pregnant with Nora at the time. Mrs. Winchester didn’t yell much, but it was a glass-breaking night. They went into the bedroom and closed the door, but it didn’t matter. You could hear them yelling from anywhere in the house, and the house is a mansion. I was in the hallway, sweeping up a glass vase she’d thrown at him, when I heard her mention Cynthia’s name. She told him she wasn’t just going to sit by and let him parade around with his secretary while she was suffering through another difficult pregnancy to have his child. She threatened to divorce him and clean him out. She told him he’d never see Eve or the new baby again. I had no doubt she could do it. Her brother was one of the most ruthless divorce attorneys in Illinois. She told him he would end it, or she would end him.
“It was then I realized that the twins had to be his. I couldn’t imagine Mr. Winchester taking care of a woman with another man’s children the way he did. A week later, a lady called the house claiming to be Mr. Winchester’s secretary. When I asked what happened to Cynthia, she told me that she was no longer with the company. That’s the last I heard of her, or of any of you. She disappeared after that.”
“You can’t be certain that I’m Sutton’s child, though,” Carson said. “She could’ve gotten pregnant by someone else after she left Elite.”
The older woman reached across the table and patted his hand. “You are Sutton Winchester’s boy, no doubt in my mind. Your brothers take more after Cynthia, but you, you’re the spitting image of your father when he was younger.”
Carson swallowed hard. He’d always known he looked different from his brothers and likely took after their father while they favored their mother, but he didn’t want to be the spitting anything of Sutton Winchester.
“Mrs. Ross, would you be willing to testify to a judge about what you told us today?” Graham asked. “Odds are that it won’t be necessary for us to compel the paternity test, but the judge might ask to speak with you.”
“Absolutely. I think I’ve stayed quiet about all this long enough. Mr. Winchester needs to do right by his children. It’s never too late for that.”
“Thank you for coming to speak with us today,” Carson said, shaking the woman’s hand.
She took it, standing up and clutching her bag to her side. “It was no trouble. I’ve wondered for years what happened to Cynthia’s babies. Now I know. She would be so proud of you three. I’m sure of it.”
Graham escorted the woman out of the office, returning about ten minutes later. “So? What do you think?”
“I think you’re the luckiest bastard in the world,” Brooks said. “I can’t fathom how you managed to find her.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Law school is brutal, but it teaches you how to find the information you need to sway the court in your favor. My research skills are second to none. It wasn’t easy, I assure you. I called every damn employment agency in town before I struck gold. If that hadn’t worked, I was going to try to smooth-talk his accountant into finding past employment records. Thankfully, this worked.”
“So now what?” Carson asked.
“I’ve got the paperwork all ready to submit to the judge,” Graham said. “Once he issues the order for the paternity test, we’ll deliver it to Sutton. When we’re certain he’s our father, we’ll make our bid to be included in his estate, sit back and watch the fireworks.”
* * *
“I knew you’d be back.”
Georgia ignored Sutton’s smug expression. It was far more unnerving to look him in the eye now that she recognized that those green eyes were so much like Carson’s. Knowing this man was likely Carson’s father was hard to stomach, especially when his gaze raked over her with poorly masked desire.
“Does Newport know you’re here?”
“No, he doesn’t.” Georgia hadn’t told him because she knew Carson wouldn’t let her do this. She wanted to keep the door open to Sutton. Not because she wanted the job, but because she wanted information. If Carson and his brothers ended up taking Sutton to court, anything she came up with could be helpful. And if she could get some money for the hospital from him, more the better.
“So have you come to your senses and decided to accept my offer? Finally figure out Newport isn’t man enough for you?”
She tried not to roll her eyes. She needed to play along, at least for a little bit, if she was going to get what she wanted out of this meeting. Georgia knew it was dangerous to waltz back into the lion’s den, but it was the only way to get the information she was after.
“A girl has to keep her options open.”
Sutton’s chuckle was punctuated with a long bout of coughing. He pulled the pocket square from his suit coat and held it over his mouth. She couldn’t help but notice as she watched him that he didn’t look well. His suit was hanging off him. His face was slightly sunken in, emphasizing his cheekbones and the gray circles beneath his eyes. He seemed to have deteriorated pretty rapidly since she saw him at the party about a week ago.
When he finished coughing and pulled the handkerchief away, Georgia noticed a few small droplets of blood on the fabric. Sutton was seriously ill. He didn’t need a mistress. He needed a doctor.
“I think I could use a drink.” Sutton cleared his throat, pushed up from his desk and walked over to the minibar in the corner. “Can I get you something?”
“Sure.” Standing up, she followed Sutton to where he was dropping ice cubes into two crystal tumblers. She leaned against the edge of the conference room table and watched as he poured himself some scotch, and then made her a vodka gimlet. It was her favorite drink, although she had no idea how he could possibly know that.
Finally he held up her glass to her. “Here you go, my dear. What shall we drink to?”
Georgia eyed the glass until she came up with an answer. “To keeping our options open,” she said with a smile.
“Indeed.” He clinked his crystal against hers and took a sip. He watched her as she drank some of her drink, then set his glass down on the edge of the table beside her. “So what is it that I can do for you today, Georgia? Are you ready to accept my generous offer?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, ‘not yet’ is better than the no you gave me last time. I’m making progress.”
Georgia was willing to let a sickly old man believe that if it made him feel better. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”
“Never were truer words spoken.” Sutton took a step toward her, crowding into her space and leaning close. “What would convince you to accept my offer, Georgia? Just name it. More money? Jewelry? A nice high-rise penthouse? I can give you anything you want if you’ll give yourself to me right now.” His hand rested on her thigh as he gazed intently at her. She got the feeling he meant it. But there was no way she would accept.
“I’ll have to think on that,” she said as she picked up his hand and moved it off her leg. “But there are some things you could do that might sway my final decision.”
“A negotiator, eh? I’ll bite.” He scooped up his drink, although he didn’t move away. They were nearly touching. “Like what?”
“I’d like Elite Industries to make a donation to the Newport children’s hospital project.”
He narrowed his gaze at her as he sipped his scotch. “And why would I want to do that?”
“Well, I happen to know that you don’t have a public relations director at the moment. If I were heading up your PR department, that is exactly what I would recommend. People know that you were competing for the land where the hospital will be built. Some may think that Elite should’ve backed down on the condo project to support a worthy cause. I think donating to the hospital would be good damage control.”
“I don’t need damage control. I run this town.”
“That may be,” she continued, “but you wouldn’t want to look like a poor sport for losing to Newport, would you? I know you’re not used to losing, so you might not know how to handle it.”
“Losing...” Sutton muttered. “If I had wanted that land, I would’ve gotten it.”
He could tell himself that, but he’d passed along his stubbornness to Carson along with his eyes. “Sure you would’ve,” she agreed. “But what better way to bless the project you let happen than by supporting it? Come on, Sutton. Just cut a check.”
Sutton leaned into her, forcing Georgia to lean farther back on the conference room table. “And aside from good PR, what will my check get me?”
Georgia placed a hand on Sutton’s chest to keep him from moving any closer. “That depends on how big the check is.”
A wide grin spread across the older man’s face, suddenly reminding her so much of Carson that her chest ached. “You’re a feisty one. I love that about you. You win. I’ll write a check to Newport for whatever you want.”
“Write it for however much you think I’m worth.”
“Mr. Winchester? Georgia?” A sharp, startled voice sounded from the other side of the office.
Georgia snapped her head to the door of Sutton’s office, where Graham was standing. His face showed a mix of surprise and anger as he looked at the two of them together. Hovering over his shoulder was Eve Winchester, the oldest of Sutton’s three daughters and corporate heir apparent. Both of them looked quite stunned to walk in on Sutton nearly manhandling Georgia.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Eve said. “I couldn’t stop him.”
Georgia pressed harder against Sutton’s chest and he finally backed away. With a sigh, he turned away from Georgia to address the interlopers in his office. “It’s no problem. I’ve got Newport employees all over the place today. Come in, come in.”
Sutton strolled back over to his desk, and Georgia tried to pull herself back together. She was hardly misbehaving, but she didn’t like the look on Graham’s face. He obviously thought he was walking in on something. Georgia avoided his gaze, holding her position near the conference room table.
“What can I do for you, Graham? Or are you Brooks? Damn it, I can never tell you two apart.”
That made Graham angry. His jaw tightened and the edges of his ears reddened as he stared Sutton down. “You’d think that a father would be able to tell his own children apart.”
Sutton barely reacted to the accusation. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach. “A father would, but I’m not sure I like what you’re implying, Mr. Newport.”
“I’m implying nothing. I’m saying it straight up, Dad.”
Georgia held her breath as she watched the two men speak. The tension in the room was thick. Her gaze drifted over to Eve. She’d followed Graham into the office and seemed to be the only one in the room stunned by Graham’s accusations. And if Georgia was reading her correctly, Eve looked a bit disappointed, too. She supposed any red-blooded woman in Chicago would feel the same way if she found out the handsome and rich Newport boys were her half brothers.
“I am not your father.” Sutton didn’t hesitate to shoot down Graham.
“Are you denying you had a relationship with my mother?”
Sutton pursed his lips, considering his response. “I did have a relationship with Cynthia. She was a lovely woman. You take after her, I have to admit. But I am not your father. Your mother was already pregnant when we met.”
Graham laid an envelope on Sutton’s desk. “We’ll see about that.”
Sutton opened the envelope and pulled out the paperwork inside. “A subpoena for a paternity test? That’s cute. Very well,” he said, setting the paperwork aside. “I will comply with the court order. But don’t get cocky thinking you’ve won some kind of battle here, Graham. In the end, you won’t like the results, because I am not your father.”
Graham started down Sutton without flinching. “I wouldn’t expect a man like you to say anything else.”
Graham turned his attention to Georgia on the far side of the room. “Do you need a ride back to the office?” His tone was pointed, but she wasn’t surprised.
“I do.” She’d gotten what she wanted out of Sutton for now. Staying behind after this incident would be nothing but awkward for them both.
Moving quickly, she scooped up her big black purse and slung it over her shoulder. Not wanting to let things unravel with Sutton, she gave him one last smile before she followed Graham out of the office. “Can you have that check for the hospital sent by courier over to our offices?”
The irritation faded from Sutton’s eyes as he focused on her again. “I’ll have it taken care of.”
Turning, she caught Graham and Eve sharing a meaningful look. Interesting. She brushed past a stunned Eve on her way to meet Graham in the doorway. They were halfway to his car before he said anything to her.
“What was that about?” he asked.
She didn’t like the way he was addressing her, as though he’d caught her beneath Sutton’s desk. “I’ve got a better question,” she said, deflecting the discussion. “What exactly was that just now between you and Eve Winchester?”
Graham’s jaw stiffened, but he didn’t turn to look at her. Instead he held open the door to the parking garage. “That was nothing.”
Georgia laughed. She didn’t work much with Graham since he spent so much time at his law firm, but she knew enough to know he was lying. “Tell that to someone who believes you. Eve was watching you like a tasty meal. At least until you started calling her father ‘Dad.’”
Graham took a deep breath and pulled his keys from his pocket. “If Sutton is our father, then it doesn’t matter what you think you saw. This isn’t a V.C. Andrews novel. The odds are that Eve is my half sister, so end of story.”
He opened the car door and Georgia slipped inside. Once he got in and started the engine, she said, “Sutton seemed pretty adamant that he wasn’t your father.”
“Yes, well, did you expect otherwise?”
Georgia hesitated for a moment. That didn’t sound like Sutton’s style. Maybe he would lie by omission, but the way he insisted he wasn’t Graham’s father made her believe him. Her interactions with him had always been very direct. “I don’t know. I’ve never known him to lie. He usually gets his way without stooping to deceit.”
“You know him so well now, do you? How much time have you been spending here with him behind Carson’s back? He told me about the dirty old man’s offer. Have you changed your mind about accepting it?”
“No, I haven’t. We were talking business.” She refused to elaborate any further. It was none of his damn business what she was doing there anyway.
“I bet,” he snapped before shooting into traffic and tearing down the street. “Let me give you a word of advice about Carson. He doesn’t get involved with women very often. His last real relationship ended when the woman dumped him for a richer guy.”
Georgia didn’t know that. They hadn’t really discussed their dating history in depth. “Really?”
“Yes. He and Candy were even engaged when she decided to run off with some billionaire tech innovator. It was really hard on him.”
“Well, Carson and I are just—”
“I don’t care what you two are or aren’t,” Graham interrupted. “I just want you to know so you think long and hard about putting Carson through the same thing again.”
Georgia bit her tongue. She was about as far from leaving Carson for Sutton as she was from leaving him for Prince Harry. She wasn’t going to argue that point with Graham. She’d tell Carson what she was up to, but she didn’t think Graham could be trusted. Judging by the body language between him and Eve, he was compromised. Especially if Sutton wasn’t their father.
If either of them was going to be sleeping with the enemy, it was Graham.
Eight (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“Can we talk?” Carson caught Georgia as she went past him in the hallway.
“Let me grab something off the printer,” she said, “and then I’ll come by.”
Carson returned to his office. He was filled with nervous energy that wouldn’t let him sit. Instead he stood and looked out the window at the sprawling sights of downtown Chicago. The view he loved did little to soothe him. He’d been tied up in knots inside since Graham left his office earlier.
His brother’s tale of the meeting with Sutton and Georgia’s unexpected presence had left him with a number of questions. He wasn’t sure he would like the answers. The dread in his stomach felt so familiar. He didn’t want to believe what Graham implied about Georgia, and he fought to reserve judgment no matter how badly his instincts wanted to react. Then again, he’d felt the same way when he’d started hearing the rumors about his ex-fiancée, Candy, stepping out with another man. He hadn’t wanted to believe it at first and yet the nagging ache in his gut couldn’t be ignored.
Breaking off their engagement hadn’t really bothered him. If Carson were honest with himself, he hadn’t been in love with Candy Stratton. She had been convenient—everything he thought a good wife should be. He didn’t have the time to look around forever, so he’d decided to move forward with her.
What had gutted him, though, was why Candy left him. He’d done well for himself. He and his brothers had crawled their way up from an unremarkable start in life to be some of the wealthiest and most successful businessmen in Chicago. Carson was painfully aware that he wasn’t from a good family. That he was a bastard, unclaimed by his father. He already had a daily battle shoring up his feelings of self-worth and adequacy.
What he didn’t need was a woman ditching him for a man who had all the things he lacked. For a while he’d wondered if he’d ever be enough. He had a ton of money, but not enough for Candy. He was very successful, but not successful enough for his father to be proud and step forward to claim his son. No matter how hard he worked, it never seemed like enough.
He’d hoped he could be enough for Georgia. A lot had changed since his engagement—he was wiser, older and even more successful. And yet it felt the same. Would it be that much worse if Georgia ditched him for his own father?
“You wanted to speak with me?”
Carson turned to find Georgia at the threshold. “Yes. Please come in. Shut the door and have a seat.”
Georgia narrowed her gaze at him for a moment before complying. “Is this about yesterday?” she asked, sitting down.
Carson took a seat behind his desk and sighed. “Maybe. I had a discussion with Graham this morning that wasn’t very encouraging, but I’d like to hear your version of events.”
“It’s not a version of events. Graham has no idea what he walked in on.”
“What did he walk in on?” After the way his brother described it, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear it from her own lips. The thought of her getting involved with his father was enough to make him want to punch a hole through his office wall.
“Nothing more than a little corporate espionage.”
Carson’s brow shot up. “What?”
“Listen,” Georgia said, sitting forward in her seat. “With everything going on between Newport Corporation and Elite Industries, I decided it was a good idea to keep the lines of communication open. If Sutton thought I was still considering his offer, I might be able to get some information from him that could help you. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
Carson breathed a deep sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath for so long. He tried to suppress the doubts in his mind that Candy had left behind. There was no real reason to doubt Georgia. He needed to at least try to hear her out and see if he could trust her. “Really?”
Georgia got up from her seat. She rounded his desk and settled into his lap. She ran her fingers through his hair and looked down at him with her pale gray eyes. “Yes, really. Would you like to know what I’ve found out so far?”
She already had information? That was faster than he expected. At the same time, the weight of her firm, round behind in his lap was sending his thoughts in another direction. He settled for resting a hand on her bare knee and stroking her soft skin. “Sure, tell me.”
“Well, first I secured a large donation from Elite for the children’s hospital. Sutton will be having a check sent over by courier this week.”
Carson couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around Georgia and pulled her soft body tight against his own. She was an amazing woman, and for some reason, she wanted to be with him. “Really?”
“Yep. I don’t think his pride will let him donate less than seven figures so he can always have top billing on the list of corporate sponsors. I also have some interesting personal information about Sutton that you and your brothers might need to know.”
Personal information? “Like what?” he asked.
“Graham wasn’t there long enough to notice this, but I was. I think Sutton is sick.”
“Sick? That old bastard is too mean to get sick. The germs are repelled by him.”
Georgia didn’t smile at his joke. “I’m serious, Carson. I’m not talking about him having a cold here. He was coughing up blood. He’s lost weight. He looks terrible. He does a good job trying to hide it, but I really think something is wrong with him.”
If what she said was true, it wasn’t public knowledge. The failing health of the King of Chicago would start wild speculation. Who would take over Elite Industries? Who were the beneficiaries of his will? How many of his mistresses would show up at the funeral?
Ideally, those paternity-test results would come through quickly. They were running short on time if Graham and Brooks were dead set on getting their piece of the Winchester pie. Sooner was better than later. If they were Sutton’s children, pushing their way into the will once he announced he was ill would look really bad. While Carson didn’t care much for appearances, the last thing he wanted was for people to think he was a ruthless chip off the old block.
That was just his luck, though. He’d gone over thirty years wondering who his father was. Within days of finding a solid candidate, the man got sick. If Georgia was right and this was a serious illness, just how long would he have with dear ol’ Dad before he died? Not long enough, although Carson doubted they’d have a touching, father-son bonding moment even if Sutton lived for another decade.
“Carson? Are you okay?” Georgia asked.
He realized he hadn’t responded to her revelations. “I’m fine. I guess I was trying to think through what all that would mean for us. Do you really think he’s seriously ill?”
Georgia shrugged. “I’m no doctor, but he looked bad to me. This wasn’t the flu or a passing stomach bug. Whatever has hit him, has hit him hard and taken a physical toll quickly.”
“Well, the man does have a reputation for hard living. Perhaps it’s catching up with him.”
Georgia studied his face for a moment, and then ran her finger along his jaw. “Are you still mad at me for going over to meet with Sutton?”
“No, I’m not mad. I’m actually pleased by your underhandedness.”
“Do you want me to stop going over there?”
Carson considered her question. He should say yes, but she was right. There was valuable information to be had. “No. Keep visiting him if you think it’s useful and you feel comfortable around him. Just be careful. That guy can’t be trusted.”
“I think he’s more talk than action these days, but I promise to tell you if I go back. But you know you don’t have to worry about me leaving you for him, right? It doesn’t matter what he offers. I’m not going to run off with Winchester.”
She looked at Carson with her big gray eyes and he had no choice but to believe her. She wasn’t Candy and despite what Graham thought he saw, nothing was happening with Sutton. If she’d wanted to leave him for the old man, she would’ve done it when he first offered the job. Instead she was here, sitting in Carson’s lap, telling him she wasn’t going anywhere. That was the sexiest thing she could’ve said to him.
“I’d like to think so,” he said, “but we’ve only been together a little less than two weeks. We’re hardly serious enough for me to start making demands on you.”
“You can make a few demands,” she said coyly. “I like a man who’s in charge. At least in the bedroom.”
Georgia shifted on his lap, and all thoughts of his potential father’s potential illness vanished. He wanted to hike up the hem of her skirt, brush his fingertips across her bare thighs and take her on his desk. The fantasy played out so vividly in his mind that he had to squirm uncomfortably beneath her to avoid his building arousal pressing inappropriately into her. He was breaking a pretty sensible rule by having a relationship with one of his employees. He wasn’t going to compound the problem and blur the lines by making love to Georgia here.
Instead he palmed the curve of her rear end through her pencil skirt and gave her a wicked look. “Is it time to go home yet?”
She smiled and looked at his desk clock. “It’s only three thirty.”
“Yes, but I’m the boss. When the boss says you can go home early, you can go home early.”
Leaning in, Georgia pressed her lips to his, lighting the fire in his belly that quickly rushed through his veins. “Whatever you say, Mr. Newport.”
* * *
Georgia stood waiting anxiously outside the bus station. Tonight was the night her mother was arriving from Detroit. She had texted to let her know she made her connection and would be arriving at six thirty. A steady stream of people had started coming out of the station. Glancing down at her phone, Georgia confirmed it was almost 6:45. Her mother could be the next person to step out the door.
Her nerves were getting the best of her. This was a big moment for her. She didn’t know how it was going to go. Carson’s skepticism had planted seeds of doubt in her mind, but she was trying hard not to cultivate them. She was too scared to have big dreams about her fantasy mother and their new relationship, but she desperately wanted something with her.
Just then, a woman came out the front door. She was a blonde, in her early forties. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a small duffel bag in one hand. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her clothes were wrinkled from hours traveling on a bus.
When their eyes met, Georgia knew that it was her mother. She was surprised to find she looked so young. Misty had been a teenager when she had Georgia, but in her mind, she had envisioned her mother being older somehow.
“Georgia?” the woman asked, stopping a few feet away.
“Hi, Mom.” She didn’t know what else to say.
The woman approached her cautiously. It seemed both of them were at a loss for how to handle this momentous event. Finally she dropped her duffel bag on the ground and lunged forward to wrap her daughter in a hug.
Georgia buried her face in her mother’s neck and hung on. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes and hid them by letting them spill onto her mother’s sweater.
“Oh, my li’l Peaches,” her mother whispered as they continued to embrace. “Let me get a good look at you.”
They separated so Misty could study her daughter’s face. Georgia tried not to squirm under the scrutiny, focusing instead on the realization that her mother was really here.
“You turned out to be so beautiful,” Misty said. “I was a pretty girl, but you...you are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen in real life. Like a movie star.”
“Hardly,” Georgia said, awkwardly dismissing her praise.
“And you’ve done so well for yourself. Such nice clothes, so well-groomed. Seeing you on the news working for that big real estate development company... I was so proud.”
“Thank you.” Georgia was never comfortable with how she looked, but she’d worked hard for her success and would accept those compliments while she dismissed others. “Are you hungry? I thought maybe we could get some dinner.”
“You know, I’m really just tired from all the traveling. Would you mind too much if we just went back to your place and got some food delivered?”
Georgia smiled. Perhaps she had gotten her love of takeout from her mother without knowing it. “That would be fine. There’s a great Chinese place near my house, or an Italian eatery around the block.”
“I love Chinese,” Misty said with a smile and picked up her duffel bag.
That must be genetic, too.
“So, where are you parked?” Misty asked, looking around the parking lot.
“Oh, I don’t have a car. I stay in the city, so I usually ride the train.” Misty’s disappointed expression caught her off guard. Georgia quickly realized that she was probably tired and not really interested in navigating any more public transportation today. “But I can get a taxi,” she added.
The smile returned to Misty’s face. “That would be wonderful. I got hit by a drunk driver a few years ago and shattered my pelvis,” she said, shuffling from one foot to the other. “I can’t stay on my feet for too long or it aches.”
Georgia’s eyes widened. She didn’t even know how to respond. Instead she called for a taxi, and they rode back to her apartment in relative silence. Once they stepped out of the cab, she could tell that Misty was in a state of awe. She looked up at the tall building Georgia called home as though they were about to step into a lush European castle. They walked through the nicely appointed lobby with Misty seeming unsure quite where to look. The marble floors? The shining brass elevator doors? The giant floral arrangement at the front desk?
“I don’t think I’ve ever been anyplace this nice before,” Misty said as they entered Georgia’s apartment. Her gaze ran over the pieces of art on the walls and the entire wall of windows on the one side that overlooked the Chicago cityscape. “I’m afraid to touch anything,” she said, clutching anxiously at her backpack.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Just put down your things and relax.” Georgia took her duffel bag and set it in the living room by the couch. “Unfortunately I don’t have a guest room. I’ve never actually had a guest, so we’ll have to make up the sofa bed for you.”
“Okay. It’s nice of you to let me stay with you at all. Hopefully it doesn’t aggravate my back condition.”
“What happened to your back?”
Misty sighed. “Honey, after the life I’ve lived, there’s something wrong with every part of me. You don’t want to hear my sob stories. You’ve got plenty of your own, thanks to me, I’m sure.”
“No, really,” Georgia pressed. It was hard not knowing anything about her mother aside from what was in her file. “What happened?”
She put her backpack on the ground and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. The movement pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, exposing a sad collage of scars across her pale skin. “About ten years ago my dealer had his thugs come for me because I owed him money. They pushed me down the stairs at my apartment complex. They had to put some screws and pins in my spine, so I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”
“That’s terrible.”
Misty just shrugged it away. “Like I said, you don’t want to hear about my life. I’m sure there’s a part of you that hates me, and I don’t blame you for that. But being taken away from me was probably the best thing that ever happened to you. I’m pretty sure that anyone else would’ve been a better parent than I was. That’s why I never...” She hesitated, her face flushing red with emotion. “That’s why I never tried to get you back. I thought you were better off without me. And I was right. Just look at you now. You’d be a mess like me if I’d fought to get you back. That’s why I let all of you go.”
Georgia swallowed hard. She had grown up thinking her mother had never cared for her. From the sound of it, the opposite was true. Her mother had stayed out of her life because she cared. Part of what she’d said confused her, though. “What do you mean, all of us?”
Misty’s gaze dropped to the floor. “You have a younger brother and a sister, Georgia. I should’ve told you that before.”
Georgia was nearly blown off her feet. A brother and a sister? All this time she’d thought she was alone in the world, and now she found out she had siblings she never knew about? “Where? Tell me about them.”
“There’s not much I can tell you. I’m sorry. I was so drug addicted by then that they took the babies from me right after each of them was born. They were both adopted, so I don’t know their names or where they ended up. I might have been messed up, but by then I knew giving up my rights would allow them to have a real family and not end up in the foster system like you. I should’ve done the same for you, but they told me it was harder to place an older child. By then you were five or six. I’ve got a lot of sins to pay for,” Misty said.
Georgia’s knees grew weak beneath her, and she slipped down into the nearby armchair before she fell. She’d known she would learn a lot about her mother and her early years with her, but somehow she hadn’t anticipated this.
“I’m sorry for that, Peaches. I’m sorry for all of this. That’s why I wanted to come here, to see you. To tell you how bad I feel about everything that happened in your life. It’s a part of my recovery, one step at a time. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I needed to come anyway.”
“I think we’ve got a lot of talking to do while you’re here,” Georgia managed.
“That we do.” Turning away, Misty patted the cushions of the couch. “I think this will be comfortable enough. It’s a really nice couch. It’s got to be better than the cot at the shelter.”
Georgia felt a pang of guilt for putting her mother on the couch. She got to sleep in a nice bed every night; she should let her mother do it while she was here. “You know what, Mom? Why don’t you take my bed upstairs? It’s a nice memory foam bed, so you’ll be comfortable. I can sleep down here.”
“Oh no,” Misty argued. “I didn’t tell you all that to make you feel bad.”
“Really. It’s not a problem. Let’s take your things upstairs and I can show you around.”
Her mother followed her upstairs to the loft bedroom that overlooked the living room. The large bed took up the center of the space with a luxurious en suite bath. Georgia set her bag down on the foot of the bed. “Hopefully you’ll be comfortable up here.”
Misty looked around and slipped out of her sweater. That exposed even more scars, blended in with a swirl of tattoos that disappeared beneath her short-sleeved shirt. “They’re track marks,” she said, noticing Georgia looking. “Well, not all of them. Some of them are leftover from my cutting phase.”
Georgia knew her mother had a heroin problem, but she hadn’t heard about the cutting. “You cut yourself?”
She nodded. “Yes. That was from my younger years. I was a messed-up kid. Cutting myself made me feel better. It was my only release. At least until I found drugs and sex.” She shook her head and ran her palms over her bare arms. “I should’ve stuck with the cutting. I didn’t hurt anyone but myself.”
Georgia couldn’t help giving her mother another hug. She was the parent, the one who should be comforting her daughter, but in reality, Misty was just a lost child. Georgia wasn’t sure she wanted to know about what set her down this path of self-destruction, but she knew she wanted to help her make a different life for herself.
“You’re turning things around,” she said. “You’ve got plenty of time to live a different life.”
“Do you think so?” Misty asked. Her gray eyes, exactly like Georgia’s, were red and brimming with tears.
“I know so.”
Nine (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
“The results are back.”
Carson had opened the front door of his loft expecting to see Georgia, but instead he found Graham and Brooks standing there. Graham was holding a large envelope. All thoughts of his dinner plans with her evaporated when he realized what it was. He had been awaiting and dreading this moment all week.
“Have you looked at the results yet?”
“No,” Graham said. “I practiced an amazing amount of restraint because I thought it was best that we all look at it together.”
“With alcohol,” Brooks added, holding up an expensive bottle of tequila in one hand and a bag of limes in the other.
“That’s probably wise,” Carson noted.
Stepping back, he let his brothers in. He expected them to want to rush to the results, considering how hard they’d worked to uncover the truth and how long they’d waited. But they took their time. Graham poured shots while Brooks sliced up a few limes. Carson just watched anxiously, tapping his fingers on the quartz countertops while he waited.
There was something final about reading the lab report, like the end of an era. For their whole lives, their father had been a mystery to them. Carson was certain that each of them had entertained private fantasies about what their father was really like and what he would say to them if they ever came face-to-face. It was possible that this envelope could shatter those fantasies once and for all. If the test results came back positive, the mystery was over and they were left with the cold, hard reality of Sutton Winchester being their father.
If the results were negative, they had to start back at square one. This time with no leads to follow. The only evidence they’d found pointed to Sutton. If he wasn’t the answer, Carson was at a loss for where to look next.
As he looked down at the envelope, their mother’s words echoed through his mind. You’re better off without your father in your life, she’d said. What if she was right? This was their last chance to change their minds.
“Are you guys sure you want to do this?” Carson asked.
“Are you serious?” Graham asked.
“Yes, I’m serious.” Carson picked up the envelope and held it up. “Once we open this thing, there’s no going back. Mom kept our father out of our lives for a reason. Maybe it was the right decision.”
“Maybe, but we’ve come too far to turn back now,” Brooks argued. “Besides, Sutton will have the results, too. It’s too late to change our minds. We’re going to find out one way or another.”
“You’re right,” Carson admitted and tossed the envelope back onto the counter. And it was true. They were past the point of no return.
Graham handed a shot out to each of them. “Let’s do one to take the edge off before we open the results. What shall we drink to?”
“The truth,” Carson offered. Good or bad, at least they’d finally have that.
“The truth,” his brothers repeated in unison. Together they all drank their shots of smooth tequila, not even needing the limes when they were through. They sat their shot glasses down and one by one, their gazes returned to the unopened envelope.
“Hurry up and open it,” Brooks said at last. “The suspense is killing me.”
“Who wants to read it aloud?” Graham asked as he slid his finger beneath the seal and opened the envelope.
“You do it,” Carson said. “You’re the one who made this happen.”
Graham pulled out two sheets of paper, one with Carson’s results and one with the twins’ results. “Okay. Let’s start with Carson.” His gaze danced back and forth across the paper for a moment, making Carson’s stomach tangle into knots as he waited. Not even the tequila could tame it.
“The alleged father, Sutton Winchester, cannot be excluded as the biological father of the child, Carson Newport, since they share genetic markers. Using the above systems, the probability of paternity is 99.99%, as compared to an untested, unrelated man of the Caucasian population.”
“We were right,” Brooks said.
Carson didn’t know how to react to the news. He’d braced himself for this moment, part of him hoping Sutton wasn’t his father and part of him hoping he was, just so he’d have the answer at last. Well, now he had it. He was that old bastard’s son. He’d known in his heart that he was, but having the official confirmation just sealed it in his mind.
The man he’d been looking for his whole life, the one his mother warned him about, had been right under his nose the whole time. Sutton had always treated him like a nuisance. The Newport Corporation and its owners were just an annoying fly buzzing around the King of Chicago’s crown. He’d never once treated them like anything else, certainly not like his own children. It was one thing not to be able to publicly acknowledge your illegitimate sons, but to deliberately handle them like pebbles in his shoe their whole lives...
“Carson, are you okay?” Brooks asked.
He realized that he’d been holding his breath and let it out in one big burst. “Yes.” He reached for the tequila bottle and did another shot without them. “Let’s read yours and get this over with.”
Graham shuffled the papers in his hands until he could read the second report. “The alleged father, Sutton Winchester, cannot be excluded or confirmed as the biological father of the children, Graham and Brooks Newport. The children’s samples were tainted or mishandled, containing foreign contaminants, and must be recollected and retested for final results.”
“Mishandled?” Brooks exclaimed. “Are you kidding me? After all this?” Now it was his turn to reach for the bottle and take a shot.
Graham just shook his head. “I guess we need to go back tomorrow and get swabbed again.”
“And while we wait for those results, we can plan how we want to move forward,” Carson said, trying to distract his brothers from their disappointment. “We know at the very least that I’m his son, so we can do some contingency planning.”
“No,” Brooks says. “We can’t wait. We need to jump on these results, especially if he’s as sick as Georgia makes him sound. Sutton has gone long enough without receiving his comeuppance. He needs to pay for abandoning us. He needs to pay for using and tossing our mother aside. He may be our father, but this is war. It’s best to attack while the opposing side isn’t expecting it.”
Graham gave a curt nod in agreement, making Carson’s stomach start to ache again. “Let’s set up a meeting with the Winchesters for tomorrow.”
* * *
Georgia was surprised to brush past the Newport twins as they got off the elevator in Carson’s building and she was getting on. They gave her a polite wave but didn’t stop to say hello. They both had a cold, calculating look in their eyes that worried her. What had happened? She got the feeling her date with Carson would be different from what they’d planned.
She waited patiently after ringing the doorbell. When Carson finally answered, the expression on his face worried her even more than his brothers’ scheming scowls. He looked heartbroken. His mouth was drawn down into an uncharacteristic frown and his face was flushed. His eyes looked a little red and his brow was furrowed in thought.
“Hey, Georgia,” he said in a flat tone. “I have to apologize in advance. I’m not going to be very good company tonight. Do you mind if we don’t go out?”
“We can stay in,” Georgia said and pushed past him into his apartment. She got the feeling he wanted to turn her away, and she wouldn’t let him. He needed someone to talk to, and she was going to be the one whether he liked it or not.
She set her purse down on the counter beside a half-empty bottle of tequila and three shot glasses. That explained the flushed face and red eyes. Then her gaze ran across the paperwork and the lab logo across the top. He’d gotten the results of the paternity test.
Georgia didn’t need to read the papers. She could tell by the look on Carson’s face that Sutton was the father he’d never wanted. Turning to face him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up into his green eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Eventually. I just have to forget about everything I know to be true and adjust to a world where a man like Sutton could produce a man like me.”
“Sutton didn’t produce a man like you, Carson. If he had been in your life, you’d be a completely different person and likely one I wouldn’t date. He might be your genetic contributor, but you were produced by the loving environment your mother raised you in. That’s what’s important. You’re nothing like him.”
“Oh really?” He pulled away and wandered into the living room, where he dropped down onto the couch. “I’m more of a cutthroat bastard than you might think. We’re going to destroy him, you know.”
Georgia’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Graham and Brooks want to go after his estate. No holds barred. They think we’re owed something after years of neglect and now is their chance to make Sutton pay the piper.”
Georgia sat down on the couch beside him and rested her hand on his knee. “You don’t agree with their plans?”
“I do and I don’t. I mean, I want him to suffer. I want him to spend the rest of his life regretting what he did to my mother and to us. But at the same time, I guess I just don’t have the killer instinct. That’s the one thing I wish I had inherited from him.”
“Don’t wish that. It’s your conscientiousness that I’m drawn to.”
Carson looked at her with some of his previous sparkle in his eyes. “You mean it’s not my dashing good looks and rock-hard abs?”
Georgia smiled wide. She was happy to see a glimmer of her Carson beneath the gloom. “Those certainly don’t hurt.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and Georgia snuggled in against his chest. “I’m glad you came over tonight. If I was alone, I’d probably stew all evening and finish off that bottle of tequila.”
“You’d regret it tomorrow.”
“I usually do. But enough of my parental drama. I don’t want to waste our night together talking about that. But I do have to ask how it’s going with your mom. Hopefully better news than on my end.”
“Good. Better than I ever could’ve expected or hoped,” Georgia said. She knew that Carson was feeling down, but she was filled with more optimism than she’d felt in years. Maybe even her whole life. The last few days had been amazing. She’d gotten answers to questions she’d never even thought to ask. “We’ve spent hours talking. I’ve learned so much about her and my family that I’ve never met. Did you know I have a brother and sister somewhere?”
“Really?” He chuckled and slowly shook his head. “That seems to be going around lately. I’ve suddenly got more siblings than I know what to do with.”
“The hardest part, though, is hearing about her life. I mean, I thought I had it rough growing up in the foster care system, but it’s nothing compared to what she went through. I’m not surprised she turned to drugs. I don’t even know how she gets out of bed every morning.”
“Where is she now? We could’ve rescheduled tonight until after she went back to Michigan.”
“No, that’s okay. It actually worked out perfectly. I helped her find a local Alcoholics Anonymous support group that meets tonight. It’s just a few blocks from my place in a church, so I gave her enough money to get herself some authentic Chicago-style deep-dish pizza from a place across the street from it. That will keep her busy for a few hours.”
“Are you okay leaving her alone in your apartment?”
This again. “She’s been alone all day while I’ve been at the office and there hasn’t been a problem. I appreciate your concern, Carson, but I think it will be okay. If I was worried, I wouldn’t be here with you.”
“Okay. You can smack me for being overcautious. I know I’m being selfish, but I’d much rather you be here with me, anyway. I just wish I was better company.” Carson gave her a weak smile. “I figured I wouldn’t get to see you after work hours until Misty had left.”
Georgia didn’t want to wait that long to spend time with Carson. At the office, it just wasn’t the same. They kept things distant and professional, the way they should have. Their conversations were about business—planning the charity gala for the hospital was the big task of the moment. She didn’t get to snuggle against his chest and feel his arms around her the way she wanted them to be.
“Well, I miss you,” she said. Georgia didn’t like the way it felt to admit vulnerability like that, but it was true. Whether or not this fling of theirs lasted through the month, she’d found herself getting increasingly attached to Carson. She wanted to tell him about how things were going with her mom. She wanted to be there to soothe him when he got bad news. “And I’m glad I came over. I wouldn’t want you to be home alone tonight.”
“You make me not want to be home alone any night.”
Leaning into her, he pressed his lips against hers. The soft touch rapidly intensified as the taste of tequila and emotion mixed together on her tongue. She drank in his sadness, doing whatever she could to make him feel better tonight. She would use her body like a bandage to cover the wounds his father left without ever realizing it.
Pulling away from Carson’s mouth, she smiled coyly at him. “I know what will make you feel better.”
He lifted a curious eyebrow but didn’t question her. Instead he waited for her to reveal her answer. Without speaking, she slipped off the couch onto the floor in front of him. On her knees, she eased between his legs. Her gaze stayed fixed on his as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
Carson didn’t argue. He just took a deep breath and let her do as she pleased. Georgia tugged the shirt out of his waistband, unbuttoning the last of the buttons and opening it to expose his chest. Leaning in, she planted a line of kisses starting at his collarbone and moving down. She noticed how the hair on his belly thickened as she traveled lower, planting one last kiss above his belt and drawing in the warm scent of his skin before she sat back to unbuckle it. Her fingers moved deftly to unbutton his pants and zip his fly open. She could feel the heat of his desire pressing against her hand through the cotton of his underwear.
Georgia let her palm glide over it ever so slowly before she gathered the waistbands and tugged both his pants and underwear down his thighs. With nothing left in her way, she curled her fingers around the length of him and gave a little squeeze until he hissed and squirmed on the sofa. She let her hot breath blow across his skin before she bent her head and took him into her mouth.
Her tongue glided along his smooth skin as her lips pressed farther and farther down. Carson’s whole body tensed the lower she moved. He didn’t even breathe until she eased back.
“Oh, Georgia,” he groaned, threading his fingers through her blond waves and holding tight. His grip didn’t hurt, but the intensity urged her on. “Damn, you feel good, baby.”
She worked into a slow, tortuous rhythm between her mouth and her hands. Carson’s fingertips massaged her scalp, never forcing her movements, but going along with them. She could feel every muscle in his body tighten as she sped up, then slowed down to tease him.
“I don’t think I can take much more of this,” he managed through gritted teeth.
“I’m just getting started.”
“Yeah, well, so am I. Come here,” he said. Reaching out, he took her hand and tugged her up until she was straddling him. He took a moment to slip on a condom, and then pushed the hem of her pencil skirt up to her hips, brushing over the lace tops of her thigh-high hosiery. His hands slipped beneath her legs, feeling at the insignificant scrap of fabric that separated them. His fingers pushed the lace aside, allowing the length of him to seek out her opening.
Georgia took it from there. She slowly lowered her hips, taking in every inch of him until she was fully seated on his lap. He reached for her blouse, unbuttoning the silk fabric and slipping it off her shoulders to the floor. His palms covered the cream lace bra, molding the full globes of her breasts in his hands and pinching at the hardened nipples that strained against the rough material.
Closing her eyes, Georgia rolled her hips, moving him inside her. A low growl sounded from Carson’s throat as she eased up and slid down the length of him again. She bit her bottom lip as the movements started to generate a liquid heat in her belly.
“Why did I wait so long to touch you?” Carson wondered aloud. “You could’ve been in my arms all this time.”
The same thought had crossed Georgia’s mind in the last week. She’d been at the Newport Corporation for over a year now. A year when she’d gone home each night fantasizing about her boss and never believing she could have him. A year of loneliness that could’ve been spent with him if she had thought for a moment that she deserved a man like him.
She still wasn’t entirely sure she was good enough, but she’d savor every moment she could share with him. Georgia had never let herself get truly close to someone, but she felt Carson getting past all her barriers. He was the first man even to try, and the stone walls just tumbled at his slightest touch. Her heart swelled at the thought of him, and her body craved him.
She wasn’t entirely sure she knew what love felt like. She’d read about it in books and seen examples in movies, but she’d never felt it herself. But now, here with Carson, she thought she might finally know for sure. It was more than like, more than just need or desire. He consumed her, body and soul, and she never wanted to let him go.
Georgia was falling in love with him.
The rush of emotions spilled from her heart, and the pleasurable coil inside her grew that much tighter. As the sensations grew more intense, Carson shifted his hands to grip her hips. His fingertips pressed into her flesh. Her thighs started to burn as she moved faster, coaxing the release from deep inside her. Soft cries and whimpers of anticipation escaped her lips as her climax grew nearer and nearer.
“Yeah,” Carson whispered in soft encouragement. “Let go, Georgia.”
She didn’t have any choice in the matter. Her orgasm exploded inside her, the shockwaves radiating through her whole body. He steadied her hips and she braced herself against his shoulders as she writhed and cried out. Her muscles clamped down around him, fluttering and pulsing as the final throbs of pleasure echoed and then finally faded away. When she opened her eyes, she found Carson watching her.
“You are so beautiful,” he said. “And you’re even more amazing when you come undone. I love to watch you let go and just feel.”
Georgia felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “Well, now it’s your turn,” she said, clamping her inner muscles down hard around him.
He groaned as his hands slid up from her hips until they were wrapped around her back. He pulled her torso toward him until she was hunched over him with her face buried in his neck. Keeping a tight grip on her, he started moving beneath her.
Georgia gasped and clung to him as her overstimulated nerves tried to absorb more pleasure. Her lips danced across the salty skin of his neck and shoulder, tasting and nipping at him. As he tensed and his moves became more frantic, she whispered a few provocative and erotic things into his ear.
It wasn’t what she wanted to say. In the moment, overflowing with emotions and sensations, she wanted to whisper that she was falling in love with him, but it wasn’t the right time or place. She’d never said the words before, and when she did, she wanted it to be special. She wanted him to respond in kind. That, she feared, would take more time.
What she did say was just right, however. Carson’s fingers dug into her flesh as he thrust hard and poured into her with a satisfied roar. Georgia rode through the waves, planting a soft kiss on his lips once he stilled beneath her.
“You know what?” he said when he caught his breath.
“What?”
“You were right. I do feel better.”
Ten (#ub8468a74-c8d5-5d3b-989f-75eda576e9f2)
Carson had trouble sleeping that night after Georgia went home. He didn’t know if it was his ever-evolving feelings for her or his nerves about his meeting at Elite Industries the next day, but by the time he and his brothers arrived at Sutton’s offices that afternoon, he felt very unprepared.
“This isn’t the way to Sutton’s office,” Graham said as the assistant took the three brothers down the hallway.
“Yes, sir. This is the way to Miss Winchester’s office. Mr. Winchester isn’t in today.”
“That bastard stood us up,” Brooks grumbled. “He got the results the same as we did and he was too big a coward to show his face.”
“Actually,” Eve Winchester said from just ahead of them, “he’s quite ill.”
Carson narrowed his gaze at Eve, Sutton’s oldest daughter. Based on what Tammy had said, Eve was already born when his parents split up, so that meant Eve was his older sister. It was hard enough to think about Sutton as his father, but the shockwaves that radiated through the family were equally difficult. His sister. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. He wasn’t going to adjust to this easily.
“I’m sure he is feeling poorly,” Brooks said, “after being caught in such a big lie.”

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