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 gentle, yet firm. She could’ve stayed just like this forever, but eventually, Carson pulled away.

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!

“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.

* * *

Saying Yes to the Boss is part of the Dynasties: The Newports series: Passion and chaos consume a Chicago real estate empire

Saying Yes to the
Boss
Andrea Laurence

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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.

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.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Extract

Copyright

One

“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

“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

“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

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?”

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