Chapter 26 Georgie
Georgie
Same as I do most mornings, I gawk at James’ physique as I drink my coffee. But today, James is holding Weston in his lap while he flips through yet another car magazine.
It doesn’t get any hotter than watching this shirtless, still-rumpled-from-sleep, manly man hold a little baby. I might spontaneously become pregnant from the sight alone. The second Immaculate Conception.
Except I’m no virgin, so that descriptor doesn’t really fit.
Speaking of fit… would James fit inside me?
My eyes drift to his sweatpants that do little to hide what he’s packing. Based on how well his fingers and mouth perform, I have no doubt that his dick would give me a stellar orgasm, too.
But I’m focused on moving on and moving out, not on satisfying my libido. So, I halt any more thoughts of what James is packing under those tight gray sweatpants and return my attention to my coffee.
Our quiet morning at home is shattered when the front door opens and the security alarm is disabled.
James raises his eyes to meet mine. “Josh,” we say in unison about ten seconds before Josh strides into the kitchen looking like he just rolled out of someone’s bed. He smells like an ashtray, his hair is uncombed, and his clothes are wrinkled.
“Hey, Char’s trying to call you,” he starts with a grumble, marching over to the coffeepot to pour himself a mug, “but since you must have your phone off, I got summoned to tell you in person.” Between sips of coffee, he says, “We've got bad news.”
With a frown, James asks, “What kind of bad news?”
“Tabloid kind.” Josh pauses, grimacing in my direction. “They outed your identity. Sorry, Georgie.”
James groans out an expletive.
I freeze even as my mind moves a million miles an hour. What will happen if Nolan finds out I had a baby? More specifically, what if Nolan finds out I had his baby?
“I’m guessing you have about ten minutes before Charlotte and the rest of the band are storming the house.
Char wants an emergency powwow to figure out the best way to get ahead of the story to protect your privacy as much as possible.
” Josh pauses, his eyes flitting between his brother and me.
“I think you’re going to have to come clean to them and tell them you aren’t really married. ”
“Fuuuck,” James mutters, running his fingers through his messy hair.
Pushing back my chair, I stand. “I’m going to go get dressed.” Glancing at the kitchen clock, I remind James, “I have to be at work at ten. Will that still be okay?”
“Of course, darlin’.”
“You got a job?” Josh asks.
“I did, yeah,” I nod with a brief smile. Josh has been around the house more lately, and he’s been nicer, but I’m still wary of him. I don’t know what caused his attitude adjustment, but I can’t forget how he’s treated me in the past.
As I’m walking toward the guest room to get ready for my shift, I hear Josh ask, “Cool if I grab a shower and a change of clothes? I’m not up for another lecture from Char about my late-night exploits.”
I hurry through my morning routine because I don’t want James to face them alone. It’s my fault he got pulled into this mess. Slapping on a tiny bit of makeup and tugging my hair into a ponytail, I call it good.
Just as Josh predicted, it’s not long before car doors slam and voices fill the house.
Since I’ll be facing James’ bandmates, I opt not to put on my uniform.
No need to give them a reminder that I reside in a socioeconomic class several rungs below them.
Instead, I slip into a pair of jeans and an ivory sweater.
Folding my uniform up, I toss it into my bag and walk down the hallway toward the living room, where a lively, heated discussion is already underway.
Charlotte is reading James the riot act. “Do you have a hole in your head or are you just that hard up for attention, James? Faking a marriage? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Don’t forget about faking fatherhood, too.”
“Not helping, Rowdy,” James mutters. “And I’m not faking shit. My blood may not run through him, but Weston is mine.”
Josh chimes in, “He even put his name on the birth certificate.” Josh pauses for dramatic effect. “And gave the baby James as his middle name and Harper as his last name… without telling Georgie.”
“Really not helping, Josh.”
“James!” Bailey gasps, sounding more horrified that he named the baby without talking to me than by the fact that he signed the birth certificate.
I knew I liked her.
When I walk into the living room, all conversation ceases. Which seems to be a recurring event at these get-togethers.
James hops up and leads me to sit down between him and Josh on one of the couches. The living room is crowded because everyone is here—Charlotte, Hayes, Annabelle, Rowdy, and Bailey. Bailey is even holding her baby, Ava, in her arms.
“Fuck, man,” Hayes sighs, sounding more disappointed than angry. “It was only a month or two ago that we were sitting right here going over the same damn shit, James. Only that time you lied to our faces.”
“Totally straight-faced, he asked us if we’d ever known him to be rash and impulsive,” harrumphs Rowdy, his arms crossed over his burly chest.
“Let the record show that I was the only one who responded in the affirmative,” quips Charlotte with a pleased smile.
Then, Rowdy and Hayes start laughing, big, loud, belly-busting laughter.
Soon, Josh joins in, wheezing, “I told James I was going to petition the band for a nickname change because I thought this clusterfuck was worthy of earning James the nickname Dumber.”
That comment only makes the rest of the people in the room join in the laughter. Even Charlotte, whom James has always described as being uptight, is wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes.
Through jagged inhalations and guffaws, Josh says, “All in favor?”
A boisterous round of “Ayes!” rings out in surround sound.
With bewilderment painted across my face, I mutter, “Dumber?”
When I glance at James, he has an impish smile on his face. Shaking his head, he just says, “It’s a long story.”
Between laughs, Hayes suggests, “Hey, if we’re switching up nicknames, what if we go with the characters from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs? I’ll be Doc since I’m our wise and knowledgeable leader.”
I don’t miss the way that Annabelle smashes her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh at her fiancé. “Sorry, y’all. Claire and Hayes have been watching a lot of Disney movies lately.”
“But there are eight of us sitting here, dumbass,” Rowdy scoffs.
Looking at his fiancé, Hayes smiles. “Obviously, Annabelle will be Snow White.”
“If Annabelle is Snow White, then who’s her prince? Because she sure as shit didn’t end up with Doc at the end of the movie,” James mutters.
“Well, you’re going to be Dopey, James,” Hayes retorts.
“This is stupid. Can we get back on track? I don’t have all day.”
“Always so harsh, Char. Fine, you can be Doc, and I’ll be Prince Florian.”
“I’ll be Happy if we can stop talking about this dumb shit,” Rowdy grumbles.
“I agree with Rowdy because I’m about to be Grumpy if you don’t shut up, Hayes.”
“Grumpy probably fits you better, Char.” When Charlotte shoots Josh an icy look, he holds up his hands. “No offense.”
When the peanut gallery finally stops teasing one another, Charlotte starts again. “Now that we’ve ascertained that James is the biggest idiot of us all, we need to plan our next steps.”
Feeling the need to defend James, I interject. “Actually, it’s me. I’m the idiot who dragged James into this.”
Charlotte focuses on me, the intensity of her stare unnerving. “Were you or were you not unconscious when many of these initial decisions were being made?”
I reach for my locket, rubbing the worn gold between my fingers. “Oh, um. Well, yeah, I was.”
“And did you or did you not suffer a head injury?”
“I… I did have a concussion, yes.”
“So, in summation, you’re not the dumbass who created this situation, Georgie.
Dumber did. Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter who’s to blame…
” Charlotte trails off with a sigh. “Your name is out there now. Media outlets will be looking for anyone who knows you to interview. Old friends, ex-boyfriends, co-workers, teachers, neighbors, you name it. People will be coming out of the woodwork to claim their fifteen minutes of fame by dishing about you to the press. The best thing we can do is get ahead of the story and release our own statement. I assumed it would be a standard press release, but…”
“But what, Char?”
“But we’re hampered by the truth, James.” She waves her hand through the air as she speaks. “You aren’t married, Weston isn’t biologically your son, and you two only just met.”
“So, what do we do?” asks James, leaning forward, his elbows braced against his thighs.
“Since we can’t go back in time, I think our best bet going forward is to commit to the marriage story since too many people already believe it to be true.”
“You think that will work?” I ask, worrying my bottom lip.
“I hope so. We can be evasive about how the two of you met and started dating. You want to keep the details of your relationship private, yada yada yada. The problem is that when we don’t give them anything, the press will be incentivized to dig up your marriage license to find out whatever details they can.
But when they can’t find one, it’ll lead to more speculation.
” Charlotte pauses, drumming her fingers on the coffee table.
“I suppose we can head that off by issuing a statement saying you were married abroad in a small, private ceremony, making it damn near impossible to prove whether a marriage took place or not.” Charlotte shrugs, adding, “And when it comes time to end the charade, well, people get divorced all the time.”
I wipe my clammy hands down my thighs at Charlotte’s confident pronouncement that an official breakup will be in our future.
“The only real issue we’ll have is if Weston’s father comes forward. What do you think the possibility is of that happening, Georgie?”
I grimace, toggling my head. “I don’t know. He expressed his preference that I have an abortion, and I haven’t talked to him since that conversation.”
“Asshole,” Hayes mutters with a frown.
His offhand comment makes me feel a little better. I know these people are only here to rally around James, but for a few moments, I feel like they’re here for me too.
“Does he think you followed through with terminating the pregnancy?” Charlotte’s brow is furrowed.
“I told him I wouldn’t, but I took the money he gave me for the procedure and never contacted him again. So… maybe?” I lift one shoulder, tossing Charlotte a wince.
James grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine. I glance down to see his large, tanned fingers intertwining my smaller, paler ones. When I look up, I see Annabelle smiling at us. A blush crosses my cheeks.
Elaborating, I explain, “I hope Nolan won’t do anything, but he can be unpredictable.”
James squeezes my hand, and I’m grateful for his steady support. If Nolan were a tornado, then James is a gentle breeze on a sunny day.
“I doubt he’d contact me. He doesn’t want to be a father, and he definitely doesn’t want to pay child support. But… like I said, he’s unpredictable.”
“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess.”
I stand up. “Thank you for this. I… I’m sorry about my role in everything.”
“Where are you going?” Charlotte questions with a frown. “We’ve got more to discuss.”
“I need to go to work. My shift starts soon.”
“Work? Where do you work?”
Damn, I’d been hoping not to broadcast my mediocre career path, but Charlotte’s stern stare has me cracking in seconds. “I just started working as a waitress at Deb’s Diner.”
Josh scoffs. “That old shithole? I’m surprised it hasn’t been closed down.”
I’ve only been working at Deb’s for a week, but I already feel a strong sense of loyalty to the place. Before I can say a word to Josh, James tells him to shut up.
“Actually, I agree with Josh, James.” Charlotte shakes her head. “That won’t do. We can’t sell a marriage if your wife is working at some two-bit diner.”
“Char, kindly fuck off,” James replies. My eyes widen at his words, but Charlotte doesn’t seem upset by them.
“Just calling it how I see it, Dumber,” she quips.
“Dopey,” Hayes corrects with a grin. He clearly enjoys needling Charlotte.
Ignoring Hayes, James presses, “Well, try seeing it another way, Char. Georgie is an independent woman who isn’t with me for my money.”
Charlotte scrunches her nose. “We can work with that, but… the optics of your wife leaving her newborn to go work a waitressing shift aren’t great. Not when Georgie’s supposed to be married to a multi-millionaire.”
“Well, to combat that, publicize how I’m a hands-on dad. My job offers flexibility, so I can watch Weston while Georgie works. We’re a modern-day couple, and we aren’t conforming to the patriarchal stereotypes of yesteryear.”
“That was a lot of big words coming from my blue-collar fake husband,” I tease James with a smile.
James returns my smile, his eyes twinkling. He seems relieved that his friends and family now know the truth, and honestly, I am too. It will be easier for both of us not to have to pretend around them.
James stands, placing his hand on my lower back. “Come on, I’ll walk you out like a good househusband does.”