Chapter 16
Georgia barely had time to catch her breath, let alone make sense of the events of yesterday, before the shitstorm hit.
One minute she was remembering Jake’s mouth on hers, the next she was sitting at the kitchen table on a video chat with not only Liz, but the entire executive team—and Whitmore.
Voices were raised, fingers pointing and her phone buzzed like a hornet’s nest on the table.
Headlines were already spreading, and photos of Jake at the shoots had gone viral.
Their big launch, which was set for next week, had been snatched right out from under them.
And she knew exactly who the culprit was.
“We made it clear that it was to be a closed set,” one of the execs barked, shoving a phone in her direction like proof of her guilt. Jake standing in front of the Ferrari glared back at her from the screen.
Georgia’s stomach dropped, equal parts shock and mortification. “I didn’t know about this until you brought it to my attention,” she said, voice cutting through the noise.
“How could you not know? This is your project,” Mr. Whitmore said.
“Let’s give Georgia a chance to speak. I’m sure she has and explanation for all of this,” her boss, and always her champion, said calmly.
Georgia gave her an appreciative look, took a deep breath and then opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it closed when she realized she didn’t have a legitimate excuse. While she’d been making out like a teenager behind the bleachers, her entire project had gone to shit.
“This is an unfortunate situation, but I promise I can fix it,” she assured them.
“We’re past fixing it,” Whitmore said. “What’s the point of an NDA if no one abides by it? Do you realize how much money we put behind this campaign? Money you promised me would bring our foundation to the next level.”
“I do, sir.”
“Then who was it? I will have the attorneys draft up the lawsuit now.”
“Well, about that,” Georgia said, feeling like the rookie of the year. “The person in question didn’t sign one.”
“Oh, Georgia,” Liz said, and Georgia could hear the disappointment in her mentor’s voice. Her heart sank.
“Part of Jake’s team showed up unannounced and started taking photos,” she fessed up. At this point what was the point of sugar-coating things. “She assured me it was for personal reasons only, but I did ask her to delete them. She said she did.”
“Clearly, she lied,” Witmore said. “Who was it?”
It didn’t matter who did it at this point.
The last thing she needed was Mr. Whitmore jumping into a game of pointing fingers when it would only jeopardize the rest of the campaign.
Jake would side with his sister. Whitmore would rage on about NDAs and the project would die a fiery death.
The only way to salvage this was to handle it on her own and not let the different parties involved speak to each other.
“It doesn’t matter, just know that I am on top of this and I will make it happen.
We can spin this as an early teaser for what’s to come.
Kind of like how Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce dropped easter eggs leading up to their engagement.
Fans will love it. We can turn the whole campaign into a fun game for the fans to play along. ”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Liz said. “Way to spin this to work for us instead of against us. Isn’t that right, Dad?”
Mr. Whitmore grumbled at his daughter’s positive tone but begrudgingly agreed.
“Great, I’ll have our social media team think up some creative ideas and clues that we can use to lead up to the actual announcement,” Georgia said, silently grinding her teeth at Rachel.
The Zoom call ended, Georgia closed her laptop and her phone immediately rang. It was Liz. She answered immediately.
“I am so sorry for the mess,” Georgia began.
“Don’t be. My dad can be a hard-ass. Plus, he missed his tee time for the meeting, so that made him extra cranky,” Liz said, and then left something unsaid hanging in the air.
“What?”
“Right before the meeting I got a call from Theodore Caldwell.”
Theodore Caldwell was the majority owner of the Circuit of America track in Austin. Henry had put her in touch with him weeks ago. He’d been excited, but Liz didn’t seem excited right then.
“And?”
“The track is no longer available for events.”
Georgia’s heart fell to her knees and nearly buckled them. “I’ve seen events there before.”
“Problem is, this event is the night before a Formula 2 race and they can’t risk the track getting damaged.”
“This is bullshit. We had an agreement.” One that was drafted up by their best lawyer, signed, sealed, and officiated.
“He isn’t saying no, he’s just saying no to the date.”
“But that day is the date. The invitations have already gone out. RSVPs are spilling in.”
“We need a backup plan, or this goes south fast.” Liz went quiet.
Georgia pressed a palm to her forehead to ward off the impending headache. “I’ll fix this.”
She hung up and let out a giant breath.
“Fuck my life,” she mumbled.
“That must be one lucky life,” a smooth as ice voice said from behind her.
Before she could lift her head two strong hands settled on her shoulders and began to rub out the kinks—not to mention send her blood pressure skyrocketing.
Georgia went limp and rested her head on the table, allowing herself exactly thirty seconds to enjoy his hands on her—since it would be the last time.
Only thirty seconds turned into a minute, and then into three, and finally when she was as limp as a wet noodle he stopped.
“Better?” he asked, taking the seat next to her.
“Yes and no.”
“Tell me the yes.”
“My shoulders feel like they’d had an orgasm.”
His smile was cocky and sure. “Then no.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Which was a lie. He was the only person she could talk to about it, but she’d never want to speak ill of his sister to him. Only, she wasn’t sure how to move forward if she couldn’t guarantee that Rachel wouldn’t try to sabotage the project again.
“You don’t have to. I heard enough.”
She met his gaze head on, and she could see the apology in his gaze.
“Then you know I’m at a loss as to how to move forward. She’s your sister and you’re my client.”
“I’m more than that,” he said, taking her hand in his.
She slipped it out. “But you can’t. One date. One kiss. One, um…”
“One what, darlin’?”
“One moment and I miss the biggest breach of information at my company. I could have lost my job. Even worse, they could have pulled the plug, and Ben would have suffered.”
“No matter what happens, I would never back out. On anything I promised. Ever,” he said vehemently.
A sigh of relief escaped her lungs. “I’m not sure how to navigate this.”
“Let me talk to Rachel.”
“No, I mean us. What happened today can’t happen again. Neither of us have the luxury of becoming distracted. Too much is on the line.”
“Darlin’, you aren’t a distraction.”
She ignored the little flip in her chest. “You say that now. But in two weeks when you’re back in season you’ll see that we can’t work.” Before he could try to convince her otherwise, she said, “And I’ll talk to Rachel.”
Georgia didn’t even knock as she stormed into Rachel’s room, the door slamming behind her. Rachel was on her bed in flannel pajama bottoms and a button-up blouse. Her laptop was open, and she was engaged in a conversation with someone on the other end.
“Roger, I’ll have to call you back.”
Rachel shut the laptop and barely glanced up, leaning back against the headboard as though she’d been expecting this exact moment.
“You promised me, Rachel,” Georgia said calmly, when what she really wanted to do was scream and stomp her feet. But Rachel was important to Jake and Jake was important to Georgia. So, she wanted to keep things as polite as possible.
“You swore these wouldn’t leave your hands,” Georgia said, opening her phone and tossing it onto the mattress.
Jake stared back from the screen, in his uniform, standing by a car that she promised the owner wouldn’t be used for anything other than a professional campaign. “And now they’re everywhere.”
Rachel tilted her head. “They weren’t exactly secret, Georgia. I just shared them strategically.”
“Shared them strategically?” Georgia’s voice sharpened. “Do you even realize what this does to me? My job, the project, everything I’ve worked for—you’ve put it all at risk.”
Rachel leaned forward slightly, a flicker of something sharp in her eyes. “My job is to promote Jake and Jake only. Those photos were great behind the scenes of a driver. It humanizes him. People eat this stuff up.” She opened her phone to Instagram where there were over a million likes. “See.”
Georgia’s fists clenched. “I don’t care about him!”
“Clearly, or you wouldn’t be chasing an unrealistic dream.”
Georgia wanted to argue back that she wasn’t the problem here, but today wasn’t about her and Jake’s complicated relationship. It was about the campaign.
“You promised you wouldn’t jeopardize me, and now—” Her voice caught. “—now I could lose everything. And you’re acting like it’s nothing. Do you have any idea how mad my boss is?”
“No, and for that, I am sorry. I didn’t see the big deal at the time, but it appears that I underestimated the situation.”
Underestimated? Georgia had explained exactly what the situation was. In fact, the longer they talked, the angrier Georgia became. This wasn’t about “a day in the life.” This was about Rachel’s dislike of Georgia’s current proximity to Jake. Pure and simple.
“I’m thinking bigger picture, here,” Rachel said. “You’re stuck on one moment; I’m thinking of the next year. The bigger picture.”
Georgia’s voice rose, fierce and raw. “Bigger picture? What about the kids? The kids who were supposed to meet their heroes because of this project. You think they’ll get their wishes now, if my boss decides to shut this down and cut funds due to lack of control over the project?”
“Wow,” Rachel said, arms crossed and voice dripping with faux innocence. “So now I’m the villain who ruined a bunch of sick kids’ dreams? That’s rich.”
“Rachel, that’s not what I said—” Georgia started, but Rachel was already rolling.
“No, no, I heard you loud and clear. ‘Their wishes might be at stake.’” She made air quotes. “You make it sound like I stomped on their hope and mailed it back in a box marked ‘return to sender.’”
Georgia bit back a sigh. “I said the timing mattered. The whole point was to unveil the campaign with their stories.”
“And I did unveil it,” Rachel shot back. “I gave this project attention, I gave it visibility. Isn’t that the point of a wish? To have someone hear it and make it happen? I just sped up the process. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you? You seem to be going out of your way to complicate an already complicated situation.”
Rachel’s posture softened, and she flicked her eyes toward the photos, then back to Georgia. “They’re just a few photos, but I am sorry you got caught in the crossfire.”
Crossfire? Georgia had been in the crosshairs of Rachel’s arrow since they first met ten years ago.
“I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal to you, but there were promises made, dozens of people putting their literal tears into this, and a carefully crafted release that had been put in place long before Jake even signed on.
These pictures threaten that. If my boss cancels this project, it affects my ability to fulfill kids’ dreams. Kids who don’t have a whole lot to look forward to. ”
Needing a moment to gather her emotions, Georgia paced, her hands trembling with frustration. “I promised them. I promised myself I’d make this happen. And if this project falls apart because of your carelessness, we lose out. Me. My team. The kids. Not Jake. Not you.”
“I understand and I’m sorry.”
“Did you do it because you want to get back at me for what’s going on with Jake?”
“To be honest, I don’t know.”
Rachel slid her laptop off her thighs and stood. “You’re too close to this,” she said carefully. Her words were measured, but there was a hesitation in her tone.
“What do you mean?” Georgia asked, because she really wanted to know. “I’m not the one who broke a promise and let everything go sideways! You’re supposed to be the professional here.”
Rachel’s eyes flicked away, just for a heartbeat, before returning to Georgia. “Professional? Yes. But some lines, some things aren’t just about work, Georgia.”
Georgia froze, sensing the unsaid beneath Rachel’s words, but she pressed on, relentless. “This isn’t about headlines. This isn’t about clicks or reels. This is about doing the right thing for the project. For the kids. So get it done. Now. Or don’t expect me to trust you again.”
Rachel sat back, expression carefully neutral, but the tension was thick enough to feel it physically.
Georgia turned sharply, slamming the door behind her as she left.
Her heart pounded, a mix of anger, fear, and determination.
Nothing—and no one—was going to stop her from fixing this, protecting the kids, and saving her career.