Chapter 5 #2
“She doesn’t want us teasing her about it,” Walter said. “Leave her alone.”
Georgie sent him a grateful smile. No, she didn’t want to talk about Nathan Caldwell, or think about his fabulous, sculpted chest, or the feel of his rock-hard ass under her hands as he pumped into her. She crossed her arms over protruding nipples. Looking up she discovered the men staring at her.
“What’s wrong?” Good Gus asked, his white eyebrows knitted with concern.
“She doesn’t look good today,” Bad Gus said. “Been saying that all morning.”
“Are you sick?” Walter asked. “Your face is all red.”
“Um.”
“You should go home,” Henry added.
Where had he come from?
“Yes, go on home, Georgie,” Bad Gus said. “We’ll lock up and drop the keys by the house. We did it for your mother when she had bronchitis last winter.”
“Dad!” an angry voice yelled from the hallway.
The men exchanged glances.
“That’ll be Roger.” Good Gus cast his eyes down in embarrassment. “He’s driving me to the doctor in Providence.”
“Come on!” Roger called.
“Take care of yourself, Georgie,” he said softly. To the others, he added, “Please excuse me.”
After he was gone, Bad Gus swore under his breath. “That kid’s an asshole. Can’t even come in and be civil.” Glancing at Georgie, he said, “’Scuse my language, honey.”
Georgie held up a hand to let him know she’d taken no offense. “What’s his story?”
“Been in and out of trouble for years,” Bill said. “Drugs mostly.”
“Treats his father like crap,” Walter said.
“Last guy in the world who deserves it,” Henry added.
The others nodded in agreement.
“No kidding,” Georgie said. The information made her sad for Gus.
“Go on home,” Bad Gus insisted. “We’ll take care of things this afternoon.”
“What about your bird watching?” she asked. Two weeks after she started, Good Gus had let her in on the secret—their daily walks to downtown Newport had nothing to do with birds and everything to do with girls.
“We can take a day off,” Bad Gus said. “The birds aren’t expecting us.”
Desperate for sleep and an afternoon to herself, Georgie pondered their offer. “You’ll have to clean up after lunch.”
“We can do that,” Henry assured her. He and his equally adorable wife Alice were always so helpful and eager to please.
“Will you do me one favor?”
“Whatever you want,” Walter said.
“Put the Styrofoam trays in a separate bag? The Rec Center said we can put them in their recycling Dumpster until we get one of our own.”
Her request was greeted with total silence.
“Is that a problem?” she finally asked.
“That Caldwell boy got to you, did he?” Bill asked, his eyes dancing with delight.
You have no idea. “Not at all. He makes a good point, though. You can leave the bags by the back door, and I’ll take them to the Rec Center in the morning.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Gus assured her. “Go on now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, you guys,” Georgie said with genuine appreciation.
Taking the bag of corn and tomatoes, she walked out of the center a few minutes later and enjoyed a deep breath of fresh, summer air.
On the short ride home, she tried her best to clear her mind and relax.
Aching from head to toe, the first thing she planned to do was take a long bubble bath in the tub in her mother’s bathroom, and then she would sleep—maybe until tomorrow morning.
Her cell phone rang, and Georgie reached for it while trying to keep her eyes open and on the road. She bit back a groan when she heard the voice of her boss—her real boss, the one in Atlanta. “How are you, Lorraine?”
“Overworked and under appreciated. Nothing new here.”
“How’s everything in the office?”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling.”
Georgie’s heart began to beat faster. She had been anticipating this call from Atlanta. Lorraine and Doug must have been in conspiracy. Time was running out on both fronts.
“I need to know when you’re coming back,” Lorraine said without further ado.
“I wish I could say for sure. The city is trying to hire a replacement for my mother, and I have to appear in probate court next week for her estate.”
“I admire what you’re doing up there. I really do.”
“They’ll close the center if they can’t find anyone,” Georgie said, reminding herself as well as Lorraine. “My mother founded the place, gave it everything she had for more than twenty years. I can’t let them close it down. I just can’t. The people would be lost without it.”
“I understand the predicament you’re in, but I’m in one myself. We’ve got the fall lines coming in this week. You know how busy this time of year is. I need you, Georgie. Your staff needs you. They seem aimless without your leadership.”
Georgie pulled onto Dean Avenue, which was deserted for once, and grabbed a spot in front of the house. “I need another couple of weeks, at the very least.”
“Two,” Lorraine said. “That’s the best I can do. I’m sorry, Georgie.”
Georgie knew it was highly unlikely that she would be free of her obligations in Newport in two weeks’ time. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’d hate to lose you.”
Georgie hated being lost. “I’ll be in touch.” She closed her phone, rested her head on the seat, and closed her eyes. With every passing day, her carefully crafted life in Atlanta slipped further away from her, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.
She sat there for a long time considering her options, none of which was all that appealing. Finally, she decided to take action. Flipping open her phone, she called the city’s recreation director.
“Mr. Andrews is in a meeting right now, Ms. Quinn. May I take a message?”
“Yes, tell him this: he can either talk to me now, or I’m going to camp outside his office until he does.”
After a long pause, the assistant said, “Please hold.”
At least three minutes passed before Richard’s smarmy voice came booming through the phone. “Georgie, how lovely to hear from you. I do hope you and your sister are holding up well.”
“We’re fine, thank you, but I need to know what’s being done to find a replacement for my mother at the center.”
“We’ve had the ad running for a month now, with only that one candidate. I never did hear what happened when she visited the center. All I know is she stopped returning my calls.”
The dirty old men happened, Georgie thought, as it dawned on her all of a sudden that they’d run the woman off on purpose so Georgie would stay. The realization took her breath away. Oh my God! They’ll never let me go!
“Georgie?”
“You have to do more,” Georgie said in what she hoped was a firm and authoritative tone. “I’m going back to Atlanta in two weeks, with or without a replacement for my mother.”
“If you do that, we’ll have to close the center,” Richard said. He’d said the same thing two months earlier when he convinced her to take the job “temporarily.” With her mother terminally ill, Georgie had been unwilling to watch her life’s work fade away like it meant nothing.
“Two weeks, Richard. After that, it’s not my responsibility anymore.” Tomorrow she would tell the old men the same thing. They were not going to hold her hostage forever.