Читать книгу Saying Yes To The Boss - Andrea Laurence - Страница 8

Two

“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.”