Passionate Proposals: Saying Yes to the Boss

Georgia shook her head. She had a lot on her mind, but surprisingly, the budding romance between her and Carson was not one of her worries. “No, no. I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind tonight.”

Carson nodded and picked up his wine. His plate was empty and the server came by to take it away. Georgia let him take hers, as well. She didn’t have much of an appetite and hadn’t since she’d gotten that phone call. The universe had basically ground to a halt at that moment, but no one seemed to notice but her.

“Want to talk about it? I’m all ears,” he said, taking a sip of his wine.

She was almost afraid to talk about what had happened out loud, but she did want to share it with someone. Carson was the only person she’d told about her past, and he might really understand what was going on and how important it was. The only other person she could tell was her former caseworker, Sheila. She’d avoided that call, however. Somehow she worried Sheila wouldn’t think this was a great development.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Well, yesterday evening, I got a phone call. From my mother.”

Carson perked up in his seat. “Your mother? Really?”

Georgia nodded. “I could hardly believe it myself. I’ve gone twenty-six years without her in my life, and then all of a sudden, she calls me out of nowhere. She said she saw my news conference about the hospital last week and hunted down my number to get in contact with me.”

“That must’ve been quite a shock.”

“You have no idea.” She’d actually been in tears. She held it together as long as she could, but once she hung up the phone, she’d bawled like a baby for twenty minutes. It was so surreal to pick up the phone and hear the voice of someone claiming to be her mother. She didn’t even remember what her mother’s voice sounded like, but it didn’t take long to figure out she really was talking to Misty Lynn Adams.

“What did she say?”

“Well, it wasn’t a long call, but she said she was getting her life back together and wanted to reconnect with me. I get the feeling this is part of a recovery program she’s in to stay clean and sober. She wants to come to Chicago and see me.”

“Wow,” Carson said, reaching across the table to take Georgia’s hand. “That’s really great. How do you feel about all this?”

That was the difference between telling this story to someone who grew up with both parents and telling someone like Carson, who knew what it was like to live without knowing your past. Anyone else would’ve asked if she was excited and happy. Those weren’t quite the words for it. Cautious was more like it. Hopeful, but not too much. Being hurt as many times as she had made her loath to jump in with both feet, but she was going to try.

“It’s a mix of emotions,” she admitted. “I want to see her and ask her some questions, but I don’t think we’re about to be best friends or anything. That’s going to take time, if it’s even possible. My mother is pretty messed up. I don’t know how long she’s had her act together, but if she relapses, I don’t want to get caught in it.”

Carson nodded sympathetically. “I understand. You want to know your family and have that relationship, but there’s a reason why they haven’t been in your life. Sometimes you wonder if it isn’t for the best.”

“Exactly. But I’m going to meet with her. I sent her some money to take the bus here from Detroit and she’s going to stay with me for a few days. We’ll see what happens.”

At her words, Carson frowned. He was silent as he watched her face for a moment. “Georgia,” he said at last, “is giving her money a good idea? And letting her stay with you? She’s a virtual stranger.”

She tugged her hand from his and buried it under the table. “I’ve thought of all that. It was only a hundred dollars for the bus ticket. If she blows it on drugs and never shows up, it was a relatively cheap lesson learned. But I have to have a little bit of faith if this is going to work.”

“But staying with you,” he pressed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

What little enthusiasm Georgia had about this development with her mother was starting to wane in the face of Carson’s skepticism. What did he want Georgia to do? Hide the good silver? She didn’t have good silver. Most of her money had gone into her loft and that was one thing her mother couldn’t take, no matter how hard she tried.

“What are my choices? If she can’t afford a bus ticket, she can’t afford a hotel. I’d have to pay for it, too. It’s only for a few days, Carson. If I feel remotely uncomfortable having her there, or leaving her there alone, I’ll get her a room somewhere, okay?”

Carson flinched at her sharp, defensive tone. “Listen, I’m sorry to be such a pessimist, Georgia, but I guess it’s just a by-product of how I grew up. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” she insisted. “I know I have to tread carefully with Misty, but I could use your support. I’ve encouraged your search for your father, and I’d really appreciate your support as I look into my own past.”

Carson got up from his side of the restaurant booth and sat down beside her. He wrapped her in a hug and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. “I support you one hundred percent. Don’t ever doubt that. I’m just worried about you, is all.”

Georgia eased into his embrace, letting her anxieties fade away in his arms. She supposed he was right to feel cautious about the whole thing. There wasn’t much point in jumping to Misty’s defense when she knew nothing about her. “Well, thank you. I’m not used to anyone worrying about me.”

“You’d better get used to it, although I’ll admit I could be just a little on edge after what Graham found. My mom had warned us that our father was a terrible person, but I never could’ve imagined that it could be Sutton Winchester. Of all the men in Chicago...”

Georgia had been quite stunned to hear the news herself. After he told her the rest of the story, it had made sense. Carson had Sutton’s mischievous green eyes, but she didn’t want to tell him that. At this point, she got the feeling he didn’t want to have anything in common with Sutton, especially common genetics. “What are you guys going to do?”

“Graham is going to try to track down someone who might remember the two of them being together back then. If we’re successful, we’ll push for a paternity test to know once and for all.”

Georgia nodded absently as he described their plans, but she could tell the brothers had little idea what they would do with the truth. “So if he is your father, then what?”

As she predicted, Carson frowned slightly. “I don’t know. I doubt we’ll be invited over for Thanksgiving dinner with his other children. If we play any role in his life, we’re going to have to fight for it. I think Graham and Brooks are more willing to battle than I am. I just keep thinking of my mother’s warnings. She kept him out of our lives for a reason. All things considered, do you really want him in my life?”

Georgia nodded. “I know I’m taking a risk by letting my mother come see me. It might work out, or she might be the same junkie who abandoned me. I’ve done pretty well without her. At the same time, I won’t let myself give up on her. With your parents, you stand there and let yourself get kicked in the teeth again and again in the hope that they will finally stand up and be the people you always dreamed of. That child in you is always craving that love and acceptance you didn’t get. If you give up on that, what’s left?”

“Everything else,” Carson argued. “Your mother was a broke, messed up kid who had no business taking care of a baby, but Sutton is the richest guy in Chicago. What’s his excuse? Sutton knows that we’re his kids. He hasn’t once sought us out in all these years. No birthday cards, no child support, not even a little lenience in business dealings. Why would I want a man like that in my life?”

“You won’t know for sure until you get to know him better.”

“I’ve never had a father, Georgia. I don’t know whether it’s better to have a lousy one and know the truth than to never have one and always wonder.”

“I understand. With the truth come things you may not want to know. I’m giving my mother this chance, but considering my father impregnated a teenage runaway with a drug problem, I think I’ll go with never knowing him. That way I can keep the fantasy father in my mind. I’d rather not know than find out he was her customer, or her drug dealer, or that he raped a young girl with no one to turn to.”

Carson carefully considered her words and then took the final sip of his wine. “Well, in the end I don’t get to make the decision, because there’s more than just me in the equation. My brothers want to see this through no matter what. Like it or not, I will know if Sutton is my father. As for what comes after that... I guess that all depends on dear old Dad.”

Georgia nodded and finished her drink. They were both in limbo when it came to their parents. She hated that feeling. For years, as she bounced from one foster home to the next, she had both hoped and worried that her mother would get her act together and take her home for good.

She had been excited about her mother seeking her out. She had made the first step, which is something Georgia had been adamant about. It wouldn’t have taken much to track down her mother, but she didn’t want to. Knowing that her mother had gone to the trouble of finding her felt good. Still, she was scared. And after talking to Carson about Misty’s visit, she wasn’t feeling as optimistic.

Georgia could already tell that she would spend all night lying in bed worrying about this. Her mother was due to arrive on Friday, so that meant days of anxiety until she knew for certain. She needed a distraction. Something to keep her mind off the situation. Work wouldn’t do it, but leaning into Carson’s chest and resting her head on his shoulder gave her a good idea of what might.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” she asked.

“I thought you wanted dessert.”

Reaching up to caress his stubble-covered jaw, Georgia turned his head until his full lips met with hers. She drank him in, letting her tongue curl along his as she gave a soft moan of approval. A sizzle of awareness traveled down her spine, making her suddenly warm and flush in the previously cold restaurant. All thoughts of Misty and Sutton faded away with his touch.

She was right. Losing herself in a night of passion with Carson was just what she needed. What they both needed. “I do,” she said as she pulled away and looked into his eyes with wicked intention.

“Then let’s go.” Carson smiled wide and scanned the bill the waiter had brought. He tossed some cash on the table for it and slipped out of the booth with Georgia’s hand in his own.

Seven

“Rebecca, what is this three o’clock on my calendar today?” Carson waited impatiently for his assistant to answer him as he studied his computer screen. He hadn’t made this appointment, and he had no real clue who the woman was that he and his brothers were scheduled to meet in just a few minutes’ time.

Rebecca appeared in the doorway and shook her head. “I’m not really sure, sir. Graham called this morning and told me to add it. Did he not speak with you?”

No, he had not. But Carson didn’t want to worry Rebecca. “He may have and I just forgot. Thank you.”

Rebecca slipped back out of his office, leaving him to ponder the appointment. He didn’t have long to wait. Brooks showed up a few minutes later, eyeing his smart phone with dismay. “What’s the three o’clock about?”

Carson shrugged. “It’s Graham’s doing. He didn’t tell you, either?”

“Why would he do something like that?” Brooks flopped down into Carson’s guest chair and frowned. “Who is Tammy Ross? I’ve never heard of her.”

“She is Sutton Winchester’s retired housekeeper.” Graham appeared in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

That was the last thing Carson expected. Why would they be meeting with Sutton’s old housekeeper, unless... “Does she know anything about Sutton’s relationship with our mother?”

Graham strolled at an obnoxiously slow pace across the Moroccan rug and sat down in the other chair. “She does.”

“Why not just tell us what she had to say? Why bring her here?”

“Because,” Graham insisted, “she wanted to talk to all of us in person. Apparently she feels bad about how it all went down back then. She’s a sentimental older lady who knew and liked our mother. Indulge her a little.”

“Mr. Newport,” Carson’s assistant chirped through the speaker phone. “Mrs. Ross is here to see you.”

“Right on time,” Graham said with a smile. He got up from his chair and went to the reception area. A moment later he returned with a petite older woman with short gray hair and a pleasant smile.

Carson and Brooks both stood to greet their guest. “Mrs. Ross,” Carson said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Please have a seat.” He gestured over to his conference table and followed the others there as they took their seats.

“Thank you for seeing me today. When Graham contacted me and I realized I was talking to one of the twins all grown up—” the woman’s dark eyes grew a little misty “—well, I knew I had to tell you everything I knew. My loyalty to the Winchesters ended with the paychecks.”

“I contacted the agency that Sutton hires household staff through,” Graham explained. “I was able to talk to someone and they passed along my number to her.”

“I read about your mother’s passing in the paper,” she said. “It was hard to believe that the vibrant young girl I knew was gone. Or that the babies I remembered were full-grown men.”

“How did you know about our mother?” Brooks asked.

“At first I knew Cynthia as Mr. Sutton’s secretary. She would call the house from time to time relaying his requests for dinner or telling me what shirt he wanted starched for the next day. She was sweet and we chatted some. She was very excited about her pregnancy, and having two children of my own, I relayed plenty of advice. After the twins—you—were born, I volunteered to babysit a couple of nights while she went out. I didn’t realize at the time who she was going out with or whose babies I was watching.”

“So our mother was seeing Sutton on the side?”

“Yes. From what I gathered, they were together long before she started working at Elite Industries. It wasn’t surprising, though. Your mother was a lovely young woman, just the kind Sutton liked. I think his marriage to Celeste Van Houten was more business than pleasure, so he was always on the prowl for...extracurricular entertainment.”

Carson’s stomach ached to think of his mother as just one in a line of women who had marched in and out of Sutton Winchester’s bedroom. She deserved better. A real love with a man who wanted to marry her and give her all the happiness in the world. Instead she’d raised his three children alone on a waitress’s salary. Carson wasn’t sure what their mother would’ve done without Gerty’s help.

“Finding out about you was the biggest shock,” Mrs. Ross said, looking at Carson. “Your mother must have left the company so soon into her second pregnancy that I didn’t even know she was expecting again. I’m sure that was part of Mr. Winchester’s plan. Mrs. Winchester was already beside herself over the relationship. I don’t think she knew about the twins, and I’m sure Mr. Winchester didn’t want anyone to know about you, either.”

“If he was so secretive, how do you know about all of this?”

The older woman smiled. “There are different kinds of rich people and in my day, I worked for them all. The Winchesters are the kind of rich people who see their employees as a lesser species. Sometimes Mrs. Winchester pretended I wasn’t even there. Or maybe she wasn’t pretending. Maybe I just wasn’t important enough for her notice. It was annoying, but sometimes it was useful.

“I remember one night Mr. and Mrs. Winchester really got into a row. She was pregnant with Nora at the time. Mrs. Winchester didn’t yell much, but it was a glass-breaking night. They went into the bedroom and closed the door, but it didn’t matter. You could hear them yelling from anywhere in the house, and the house is a mansion. I was in the hallway, sweeping up a glass vase she’d thrown at him, when I heard her mention Cynthia’s name. She told him she wasn’t just going to sit by and let him parade around with his secretary while she was suffering through another difficult pregnancy to have his child. She threatened to divorce him and clean him out. She told him he’d never see Eve or the new baby again. I had no doubt she could do it. Her brother was one of the most ruthless divorce attorneys in Illinois. She told him he would end it, or she would end him.

“It was then I realized that the twins had to be his. I couldn’t imagine Mr. Winchester taking care of a woman with another man’s children the way he did. A week later, a lady called the house claiming to be Mr. Winchester’s secretary. When I asked what happened to Cynthia, she told me that she was no longer with the company. That’s the last I heard of her, or of any of you. She disappeared after that.”

“You can’t be certain that I’m Sutton’s child, though,” Carson said. “She could’ve gotten pregnant by someone else after she left Elite.”

The older woman reached across the table and patted his hand. “You are Sutton Winchester’s boy, no doubt in my mind. Your brothers take more after Cynthia, but you, you’re the spitting image of your father when he was younger.”

Carson swallowed hard. He’d always known he looked different from his brothers and likely took after their father while they favored their mother, but he didn’t want to be the spitting anything of Sutton Winchester.

“Mrs. Ross, would you be willing to testify to a judge about what you told us today?” Graham asked. “Odds are that it won’t be necessary for us to compel the paternity test, but the judge might ask to speak with you.”

“Absolutely. I think I’ve stayed quiet about all this long enough. Mr. Winchester needs to do right by his children. It’s never too late for that.”

“Thank you for coming to speak with us today,” Carson said, shaking the woman’s hand.

She took it, standing up and clutching her bag to her side. “It was no trouble. I’ve wondered for years what happened to Cynthia’s babies. Now I know. She would be so proud of you three. I’m sure of it.”

Graham escorted the woman out of the office, returning about ten minutes later. “So? What do you think?”

“I think you’re the luckiest bastard in the world,” Brooks said. “I can’t fathom how you managed to find her.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Law school is brutal, but it teaches you how to find the information you need to sway the court in your favor. My research skills are second to none. It wasn’t easy, I assure you. I called every damn employment agency in town before I struck gold. If that hadn’t worked, I was going to try to smooth-talk his accountant into finding past employment records. Thankfully, this worked.”

“So now what?” Carson asked.

“I’ve got the paperwork all ready to submit to the judge,” Graham said. “Once he issues the order for the paternity test, we’ll deliver it to Sutton. When we’re certain he’s our father, we’ll make our bid to be included in his estate, sit back and watch the fireworks.”

* * *

“I knew you’d be back.”

Georgia ignored Sutton’s smug expression. It was far more unnerving to look him in the eye now that she recognized that those green eyes were so much like Carson’s. Knowing this man was likely Carson’s father was hard to stomach, especially when his gaze raked over her with poorly masked desire.

“Does Newport know you’re here?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Georgia hadn’t told him because she knew Carson wouldn’t let her do this. She wanted to keep the door open to Sutton. Not because she wanted the job, but because she wanted information. If Carson and his brothers ended up taking Sutton to court, anything she came up with could be helpful. And if she could get some money for the hospital from him, more the better.

“So have you come to your senses and decided to accept my offer? Finally figure out Newport isn’t man enough for you?”

She tried not to roll her eyes. She needed to play along, at least for a little bit, if she was going to get what she wanted out of this meeting. Georgia knew it was dangerous to waltz back into the lion’s den, but it was the only way to get the information she was after.

“A girl has to keep her options open.”

Sutton’s chuckle was punctuated with a long bout of coughing. He pulled the pocket square from his suit coat and held it over his mouth. She couldn’t help but notice as she watched him that he didn’t look well. His suit was hanging off him. His face was slightly sunken in, emphasizing his cheekbones and the gray circles beneath his eyes. He seemed to have deteriorated pretty rapidly since she saw him at the party about a week ago.

When he finished coughing and pulled the handkerchief away, Georgia noticed a few small droplets of blood on the fabric. Sutton was seriously ill. He didn’t need a mistress. He needed a doctor.

“I think I could use a drink.” Sutton cleared his throat, pushed up from his desk and walked over to the minibar in the corner. “Can I get you something?”

“Sure.” Standing up, she followed Sutton to where he was dropping ice cubes into two crystal tumblers. She leaned against the edge of the conference room table and watched as he poured himself some scotch, and then made her a vodka gimlet. It was her favorite drink, although she had no idea how he could possibly know that.

Finally he held up her glass to her. “Here you go, my dear. What shall we drink to?”

Georgia eyed the glass until she came up with an answer. “To keeping our options open,” she said with a smile.

“Indeed.” He clinked his crystal against hers and took a sip. He watched her as she drank some of her drink, then set his glass down on the edge of the table beside her. “So what is it that I can do for you today, Georgia? Are you ready to accept my generous offer?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, ‘not yet’ is better than the no you gave me last time. I’m making progress.”

Georgia was willing to let a sickly old man believe that if it made him feel better. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”

“Never were truer words spoken.” Sutton took a step toward her, crowding into her space and leaning close. “What would convince you to accept my offer, Georgia? Just name it. More money? Jewelry? A nice high-rise penthouse? I can give you anything you want if you’ll give yourself to me right now.” His hand rested on her thigh as he gazed intently at her. She got the feeling he meant it. But there was no way she would accept.

“I’ll have to think on that,” she said as she picked up his hand and moved it off her leg. “But there are some things you could do that might sway my final decision.”

“A negotiator, eh? I’ll bite.” He scooped up his drink, although he didn’t move away. They were nearly touching. “Like what?”

“I’d like Elite Industries to make a donation to the Newport children’s hospital project.”

He narrowed his gaze at her as he sipped his scotch. “And why would I want to do that?”

“Well, I happen to know that you don’t have a public relations director at the moment. If I were heading up your PR department, that is exactly what I would recommend. People know that you were competing for the land where the hospital will be built. Some may think that Elite should’ve backed down on the condo project to support a worthy cause. I think donating to the hospital would be good damage control.”

“I don’t need damage control. I run this town.”

“That may be,” she continued, “but you wouldn’t want to look like a poor sport for losing to Newport, would you? I know you’re not used to losing, so you might not know how to handle it.”

“Losing...” Sutton muttered. “If I had wanted that land, I would’ve gotten it.”

He could tell himself that, but he’d passed along his stubbornness to Carson along with his eyes. “Sure you would’ve,” she agreed. “But what better way to bless the project you let happen than by supporting it? Come on, Sutton. Just cut a check.”