Chapter 33 Georgie
Georgie
When I wake up the next morning, I feel a lot of things. Sore, but in the best possible way. Well-rested because James kept his word and woke up with Weston in the night, allowing me to wake only once to pump. Happy and relaxed from the orgasms. A little anxious about how to act today around James.
But then those feelings fly out the window when I remember Nolan’s text messages.
Unless you want me to sell my story to the tabloids, you'd better call me back.
You’ve got twenty-four hours to call me before I talk.
Tick tock, Georgie. Tick fucking tock.
He gave me a deadline, and I’ve already wasted half of it. Although I shouldn’t call having sex with James a waste of time.
Sitting up in bed, I sigh, my heart growing heavy with worry. The ominous feelings from last night surge forward with a vengeance, threatening my fragile peace. Sliding my knees up, I wrap my arms around them and drop my head.
Think, Georgie, think.
What do I do? I know I need to contact Nolan today, if only to beg him not to go to the press. But what leverage do I have? I need him to stay quiet. Not just for my sake or for Weston’s, but for James.
What will happen to James’ reputation if the truth comes out, and the public finds out he lied about being married and being a father? Will the fans turn on him? On Outlaw?
Back in the hospital when James explained his reasons for wanting to stick to the fake marriage ruse, one of those reasons was to protect his image. After he’s done so much for me and for Weston, I want to do whatever I can to protect James.
Creeping out of bed, I tiptoe to the door and stick my head out. I hear nothing but silence, and when I check Weston’s nursery, it’s empty. Assuming James must have taken Weston outside, I yank on some clothes before walking into the kitchen where I find my discarded purse.
Withdrawing my old flip phone, I power it on and hit D.D.’s contact. As it rings, I send up a silent prayer that I’m making the right decision.
“About time you called me back, Georgie.” Nolan’s rough voice hits my ear, sounding hungover and irritated, which is pretty typical behavior for him.
“What do you want, Nolan?” I say, aiming for annoyance, hoping I can convince him that his assumptions are wrong.
“You know what I want, Georgie. I know the kid is mine, and you kept him from me. I want what’s mine.”
“That kid is my child with James, not yours, and he isn’t any of your concern. So go to the press if you want, but just know that if you do, James and I will come after you for everything you’ve got.” I pause a beat and add, “I doubt your family will appreciate the negative press you’d generate.”
“It would only be negative press if the kid isn’t mine, Georgie, and we both know he is.”
My heartbeat thuds in my throat. I scoff, but it comes out sounding more like a strangled whimper. “Nolan, stop wasting my time.”
“Ten grand or I talk. You have until Friday.”
Ten grand?! My eyebrows jump.
When the line goes dead, I toss my phone onto the kitchen table.
Three days.
I have three days to come up with ten thousand dollars. I sink into the closest chair and press the heels of my hands against my eyes to stem the flow of tears threatening to flood my cheeks.
Three fucking days until everything crashes down around me. Again.
My phone buzzes on the table, jarring my already fried nerves, with an incoming text.
Nolan
Tick tock, Georgie.
I shut off the phone, wishing I could switch off my worries just as easily.
I move through the house on autopilot as I pick up dishes, sweep the floor, and empty the bathroom trash cans for trash day.
But with every step, I feel the countdown clock shrinking, each minute slipping by without a solution in sight. What’s my next move?
I’m hunched over the sink scrubbing last night’s dirty dishes when James walks in with Weston strapped to his chest. Consumed with worry, I don’t even hear him come into the kitchen, so when he wraps his arm around my shoulder, I jump.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he rumbles, dropping a kiss to the crown of my head.
“No need to apologize. I was just… lost in thought.” I twist my head to the side to smile at him over my shoulder.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
I am pissed. When I found out that I was pregnant and needed his support, Nolan lashed out, flip-flopping between denying the baby was his and blaming me.
He left me terrified and alone. But now, he has the audacity to seek me out to extort money from me.
I was his doormat for far too long, but it stops now. If he wants to go to the press and drag me through the mud, then he can. I won’t stop him, but I’m not paying him a cent. He does not get one more thing from me.
“What’d that plate ever do to you?”
I jerk at hearing James’ voice. “Huh?”
“You’ve been scrubbing it for about two minutes, and you’re gripping it so tightly, I’m surprised it hasn’t snapped in half.” James turns to lean his butt against the kitchen counter. “This about last night?”
As quickly as my ire at Nolan grew, it dwindles as I look at James and Weston. If Nolan only had the power to disrupt my life, I would refuse to cave to his demands, but Nolan also has the power to hurt James and Weston.
I can’t let him do it. So, once again, I’m mired in indecision. Like a dog chasing its tail, I just keep going in circles.
What the hell am I going to do?
Fake it till you make it. I smile up at James. “No, it’s not.”
“Good, because after Weston has his breakfast, I think we need to have ours.” His eyes dart to the kitchen table, making his intentions very apparent.
I smirk, crossing my arms. “What if I’m not hungry yet?”
James steps into my space, backing me up against the edge of the counter. “I can think of a few ways to help you work up an appetite, darlin’.”
This is far from the first time he’s called me that, but this time, the way he whispers it, so soft and gravelly, makes my insides quiver with anticipation.
With his nose, he draws a line up my neck to press a single kiss under my ear. When he chuckles, the sound vibrates through me. “You can claim you’re not hungry for me, Georgie, but that hammering pulse says otherwise.”
So, just like last night, I lean in. If James wants to extend our sexcapades, I’ll let him. Especially since my life is going to blow up in three days unless I can find $10,000 or some other way to shut Nolan up.
I loop my arm around James’ waist and snuggle into his side, careful not to smash Weston. My fingers reach out to caress Westie’s little foot as he kicks and coos. James tips my chin up, placing a chaste kiss on lips.
“Well, we’ll need to be fast because I’m working the lunch shift at Deb’s today.”
“Weston and I should come visit you sometime.”
“About that,” I hedge. “I hate to ask you, but Deb’s could benefit from a celebrity eating there.
Would you mind dropping in? And maybe… I could ask the college-aged waitress to post a photo on her social media account to spread the word.
” James appears pensive, and I worry I’ve hit a nerve, making him think I’m abusing his fame.
My next words tumble from my mouth as quickly as I can get them out.
“It doesn’t need to be today, and it doesn’t need to be more than once.
And if you’re not comfortable with it, that’s okay too.
It was just… a lame idea I had yesterday while I was brainstorming ways to help Sheila bring in more customers for Deb’s. ”
God, was that only yesterday? So much has happened in the past twelve hours that it seems like eons ago.
“I can come anytime. Want me to get the rest of the band to come, too?”
I glance at James, a smile breaking out across my face. “You’d do that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you, but… I do have a favor to ask of you.”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Be my date, my real date, to Hayes and Annabelle’s wedding over New Year’s.”
New Year’s seems so far away. With only three days until Nolan’s looming deadline, I wonder if I can commit to something that far into the future.
But I decide that’s a problem for another day.
I was almost late for my shift at Deb’s because James made good on his promise to work up an appetite. And boy, did that man deliver. Just thinking about it makes my toes curl inside my boots.
Cara, the waitress who’s a college student, wanted to leave early because she has an exam this afternoon, so I offered to stay late and take over her tables. I don’t mind pitching in, and I was eager to gain a few more bucks in tips.
Extending my shift and earning more money has given me an idea.
I wonder… if I can scrape together some money and give it to Nolan, would it be enough to pacify him for a little longer?
Obviously, it won’t be much, maybe a few hundred dollars, but I just need more than three days to figure out how to proceed.
As I’m cleaning off my tables, since Deb’s doesn’t employ busboys, I mull it over and decide to shoot my shot with Sheila.
Wringing out my hands, I amble over to where Sheila is boxing up a pie slice for a customer. “Is there any way I could get a few more shifts over the next couple of days?”
Shifting her eyes from the coconut cream pie to me, she cocks her head as if sensing my desperation. “Sure, but what’s the need?”
“I haven’t been forthright with you. I have a son. An infant son,” I clarify. “He’s the real reason I wasn’t working for the past few months. I’m sorry I lied about that, but I wasn’t sure if you’d give me a chance if you knew I had a newborn at home.”
Sheila frowns. “I’m sorry you felt the need to lie, but… I can understand why you did.” She tucks the pie into a Styrofoam container, drops it off at the customer’s table, and comes back to me. “So, you need more shifts to cover some bills?”
Twisting my lips to the side, I nod. “Yeah, something like that.”