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Georgia wanted someone who would listen to her. She couldn’t count on her mother or her lover for that. The only person she could count on, the only person she’d ever been truly able to trust, was her old social worker, Sheila. She gave the best advice in the world and maybe, just maybe, she could help Georgia sort her way out of his mess.
TWELVE
Carson sat on his couch, staring at his silent cell phone. It had been three days since Georgia walked out, and there hadn’t been the slightest sign of her. He didn’t think she would call, not really. After everything that had happened that night, he expected her to tuck her tail and go running back to Sutton. He did, however, expect her to at least show up at work to pack up her things.
So far, her office remained dark and untouched. He could’ve had Rebecca pack it for her, but frankly, he was hoping she would change her mind about quitting. They had no business dating, but she was still a damn good PR person, and it would be hard to replace her. He needed to remind himself of this exact moment if he ever looked at another employee with interest again.
He was just about to set his phone back on the coffee table when it rang in his hand. It was Graham’s ringtone, not Georgia’s.
“Yes?” he answered.
“I have news,” Graham said. “Sutton has called a meeting for tomorrow. We’re all to be there, but he didn’t elaborate on why.”
“I suppose he’ll show up for his own meeting,” Carson said bitterly. As he said it, he was reminded of what Georgia had said to him—that Sutton was waiting to make some kind of announcement that she couldn’t share with him. This must be it, although Carson couldn’t fathom what it could be about. Bringing all the kids together seemed like a recipe for disaster. “Do you think Eve w
as able to talk him into changing the will?”
“I have no idea. If she did, I’ve underestimated her, because she’s worked a miracle in days.”
“Will we get the test results back before we meet with them?” The paternity test on the twins was being run a second time, and they expected to hear from the lab any day now.
“Who knows? Maybe that’s what Sutton is anticipating. If he knows we’re his sons and the test is just a formality, he may be tired of fighting and ready to just accept us even without the results back. I’ll let Rebecca know to put it on our calendars for tomorrow.”
If Sutton was about to deliver the news that Georgia had hinted at, it would be big. Big enough that she couldn’t tell him despite how many times he demanded she do it. “Okay,” he replied after an extended silence.
The line was quiet for a moment. “Carson, what’s wrong?”
Carson had deliberately not mentioned the blowup with Georgia to his brothers. They had enough to worry about with Sutton. They didn’t need his relationship drama on top of the task of finding a new PR director to handle the hospital promotions.
“Is it Georgia?” Graham pressed. “I noticed she wasn’t in the office today. She hasn’t quit to go work for Sutton, has she?”
Carson couldn’t avoid the topic any longer. “She has quit, but I don’t know where’s she’s gone.”
“What happened?”
“This crap with Sutton happened, and when she said some things I didn’t like, I lashed out at her. Then she quit.”
“Sorry, man. I guess that’s why you don’t date coworkers. When you break up, it impacts everything else. Should I have HR open a requisition for a new PR person?”
“Not yet,” Carson said, although he really didn’t know why. The odds were that Georgia was not coming back. He certainly wouldn’t after what was said between them. “Give it a few days,” he suggested. “Let’s deal with Sutton’s meeting and the fallout from that first.”
One fire at a time.
* * *
“Here you go, sweetie.”
Georgia looked up and took the cup of hot tea from her friend and former social worker, Sheila. “Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for taking me in for a few days. I just didn’t know where else to go.”
Sheila took her own cup of tea with her to sit in the wingback chair beside the couch where Georgia was lounging with a blanket. She’d called from O’Hare, and when she showed up on Sheila’s doorstep in Detroit at nearly midnight without so much as a change of clothes, she was welcomed like family.
She supposed that was what Sheila was to her. The only family she’d ever had. She’d been there for her since she was assigned her case when Georgia was ten. Sheila did her best to place Georgia in the most stable, safe homes she could, but there weren’t always a lot of options, so she tried to help in other ways. She assisted Georgia with her college and scholarship applications. She encouraged her to go to Northwestern and make something of herself. She’d also counseled her that finding her real family wasn’t always the best decision.
Sheila hit the nail on the head with that advice.
“I’ll help around the house while I’m here,” Georgia added. As a new foster child in a home, she always found she was accepted more readily if she became useful. “I don’t want you spoiling me like a houseguest.”
“You’ve had a pretty rough week,” Sheila said. “And even if you hadn’t, I’d still spoil you because you deserve it. You can help if you want to, but there’s really no need. I doubt two grown women will make much of a mess to worry about.”
