Читать книгу Passionate Proposals - Andrea Laurence - Страница 16

Eight

“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.”