4. Georgia
Chapter four
Georgia
T he drive to work is torturous, the silence between Noah and I unbearable.
“Are you going to ignore me all summer?”
“Not ignoring you, George, just don’t have anything to say.”
I slam my fists against my thighs in frustration. “That’s my point! You never want to talk about the hard stuff. I poured my heart out to you yesterday, and all I got was you telling me I was on my own in finding a place to sleep.”
“That’s bullshit. I said you could sleep in my room. You chose not to.”
“And apparently, it was the right decision. Does your dad not approve of me being here?”
He scoffs. “Who cares what he—”
“Me. I do. I don’t want to disrespect him, and he seemed pretty mad when he saw us in bed this morning.”
His hands clench around the steering wheel. “He can fuck off. He has no say in what I do.”
“And me? Am I just supposed to rebel like you seem to want to?”
Noah exhales. “Georgia, it doesn’t matter. He’s suddenly trying to act like a parent when he’s just the guy who pays my tuition. And what does it matter to you? After this is over, we’ll go back to school and go our separate ways.”
Guilt tightens my chest at the hurt in his tone, but he’s not innocent in all this.
“I know you’re mad at me, but—”
“Mad? Why the fuck would I be mad my girl broke up with me? You couldn’t have done this before we committed to spending the whole summer together? When I find summer pussy to replace you since you’re too busy being a selfish bitch, you gonna pretend you still don’t want me?”
I hiss at his words. There he is—the real Noah Blake. “Fuck you.”
“Can’t do that anymore, babe. You’re not my girlfriend.”
As soon as he puts the car in park, I jump out and take a deep breath, hoping to calm myself, but the summer heat only makes it worse.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you,” I say, walking through the parking lot.
“You’re going the wrong way. The office is right here.”
Shoot.
I turn around and, with no other choice, trail behind Noah into the towering high-rise. The sleek glass doors swallow us into the polished lobby, a stark reminder of the world we’re stepping into.
When I googled the company we’re going to be interning for, I discovered Noah’s father, Jackson Blake—founder and CEO of Blake Industries—runs one of the largest raw material distribution companies in the industry. I was just as impressed as I was intimidated.
Noah pushes through the large glass doors and waves at the receptionist. “Welcome home, Noah. Heard you’re with us for the next three months.”
“Sure am, Rachel. If you’re lucky, I’ll make time for you to treat me to lunch.” He winks at her, and her smile drops as she notices me.
“You must be Miss Price.” I nod, offering a tight smile. “You both can head back. Your father is waiting.”
“Thanks, Rach.” Noah walks off, not bothering to wait for me. I follow, stopping behind him as he sticks his head through the open door that leads into a large office. “He’s on a call. We can go in and wait.” Noah walks in and flops down on the leather couch. I move to take a seat next to him, but he stretches his legs across the space, making it clear there’s no room for me. Asshole . I give him a dismissive glare before taking the empty chair in front of Mr. Blake’s desk. His brows are furrowed, his pen tapping against the top of his large mahogany desk. I feel out of place. Sitting on the floor seems like a less uncomfortable option.
I look over my shoulder to see Noah, his head down, scrolling through his phone. When I turn back, I catch his father staring at me. A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps appear on my arms. His eyes drop, and I realize my skirt hiked up my thighs when I sat down. I adjust the hem and cross my legs, revealing a hint of inner thigh. The tapping stops. His hand freezes, clenching the pen as his gaze lingers on my thighs. I thought last night had been a mistake, had even wondered if he’d remember. But the way he drank me in when I stepped into the kitchen, that wink, now…
You’re playing with fire, Georgia.
I pull my skirt down, shaking my head. I must be losing it. Hitting on Noah’s father? Jesus, Georgia, get it together. I stand and excuse myself to the restroom. Once inside, I turn on the cold water and press my wrists beneath the stream, the chill shocking me back to the present. I reach for a paper towel and dry my hands before checking my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes a little too wide. I smooth down my hair, adjust my blouse, and square my shoulders, forcing a deep inhale.
“You’re fine. Get it together,” I murmur to myself, blinking away any lingering doubt. With one last steady breath, I straighten and step out, my mask firmly in place. Reaching the open door of the office, Noah and Mr. Blake are arguing, their voices low but tense, words clipped and angry. Noah’s jaw is tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Mr. Blake leans in slightly over him, his expression cold and unwavering. Their hushed tones don’t soften the intensity between them.
Mr. Blake must have noticed I’d returned. “Georgia, sit,” he says with a commanding tone.
“Yes, sir.” I sink into the couch next to Noah.
“As you know, this internship is designed to provide you with real-world experience, build your skills, and enhance your résumé for life after college,” Mr. Blake says, glancing between us. “Over the summer, you’ll rotate through different departments—logistics, sales, and procurement—so you can see how each part of the company operates. You won’t just be shadowing; you’ll be expected to contribute. This involves handling reports, attending meetings, and providing assistance as needed. Consider this a hands-on crash course in the business world. Show initiative, ask questions, and most importantly, prove you belong. I expect you to treat this as a real job—no fucking around.” His gaze locks on Noah. “It will be paid. Normally, we don’t do paid internships, but I’m making an exception. You’ll both start in the sales department. I’ve set up training courses for you to participate in. Tomorrow, I’ll have you both shadow cold calls. Pay attention, take notes, and learn how to pitch effectively. Soon enough, you’ll be making those calls on your own.”
“What exactly are we selling?” Perhaps I should have done a deeper dive before accepting the internship.
Mr. Blake shifts his attention to me, his expression unreadable. “Yourself,” he states simply. “Anyone can push a product, but it takes skill to close a deal. I need to see that you can handle this job. There’s a long list of students who would kill for this opportunity.”
My stomach tightens. “I want to be here. I need this job,” I say quickly, trying to hide the edge of desperation in my voice.
His gaze lingers on me for a beat before he gives a curt nod. “Good. Then prove it. Learn quickly, adapt even faster, and you’ll do just fine.
“When’s lunch?” Noah asks, and his father’s demeanor changes. “We do get lunch, don’t we?”
“You know you get lunch. Your training specialist will handle that. You get an hour. Don’t abuse it.”
“Great.” Noah stands. “Let’s go,” he says to me.
I slowly rise, but his father’s voice stops me from moving any farther.
“Noah, go find Lewis. He’ll get you set up. I’m keeping Georgia with me.”
“Why?” he asks, his annoyance evident.
“Because you know your way around. She doesn’t.”
An older man pops his head into Mr. Blake’s office. “Noah, you ready?”
“Whatever,” Noah mumbles, shaking his head. He gets up, follows the man out, and I raise my eyes to Mr. Blake. He walks over to his desk and sits, leaning back in his chair, studying me. “So, Georgia, tell me about yourself.”
My heart thrashes. Blood whooshes in my ears. I wipe my palms down the sides of my skirt. It’s a simple question, so why am I so nervous? “What would you like to know?”
“Everything. Where are you from? What brings you to Chicago? Why were you really in my bedroom?”
His last question blindsides me, and for a second, I forget how to speak. “What—I—”
“I won’t have you pulling anything in my home, Miss Price. You aren’t the first of Noah’s girlfriends to find themselves ‘lost.’ Don’t think for a second you’re the exception.”
I straighten, my hackles rising. I work to keep the fire out of my voice as I say, “Respectfully, as I mentioned last night, I was lost. And I don’t appreciate the judgment you’ve formed about me. It’s downright insulting.”
He gazes at me, amusement in his eyes. “Is that so?”
“Yes. First of all, I’m not like his other girlfriends. You don’t have to worry about me falling into whatever trap you left for them.” He raises an eyebrow. “And not that it matters, but Noah and I broke up last night.”
He leans forward, linking his fingers on the desk. “Broke up?”
“Yes…” Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. If I’m not dating his son, will he fire me? I can’t risk losing this job. If he asks me to leave, I have nowhere to go. “It’s… complicated.”
“What happens between you and my son is your business. What happens in my home and with my company is mine.” He pushes his chair back and stands. “Now, I’ll give you a tour.” He rounds the front of his desk, and suddenly, I’m acutely aware of how imposing he feels up close. He extends his arm toward the door. “After you, Peach .” Once again, he catches me off guard, and I find myself unable to help but stare up at him. I stand slowly, and shamelessly, my gaze drops to his full lips, remembering how close they were to being against mine only hours ago.
“Yeah. Sure.” I shift directions, and the unexpected pressure of his palm against my lower back throws me off balance. I stumble, and his hand wraps around my waist to steady me. Heat blossoms along my spine, stirring something inside me.
“Easy there. We don’t want you to injure yourself on the first day.”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment at my sudden reaction. I straighten and step back, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I catch the dark smile on his lips as he says, “This way.” He leads me out of his office and down a long hall, introducing me to staff at each open door we pass. It takes some time for my brain to shake off the ridiculous idea that he’s flirting with me. He’s Noah’s father, for heaven’s sake. A grown man. Why would he be interested in someone like me?
He’s not, you crazy girl!
We enter another office, and I pull myself out of my mental spiral.
“Chris, I’d like you to meet Georgia. She’s interning with us for the summer.”
The man stands, extending his hand with a firm grip. “Hey, Georgia. I’m Chris Morrison, head of sales. Nice to meet you. What department are they assigning you to?”
I open my mouth to say sales—though I still have no idea what that entails—when Mr. Blake interjects, “Sales. She’ll be shadowing cold calls, attending client meetings, and gaining hands-on experience with our process.”
Chris nods his approval, shifting his gaze back to me. “Sounds like they’re throwing you right in. Who will you be working under?”
“She’s going to shadow me this summer,” Mr. Blake announces, his tone leaving no room for debate.
Chris lets out a low whistle. “That’s awesome. Great opportunity, Georgia. Mr. Blake mentored me when I first joined the team. Hard as hell. I had a few choice words for him when he wasn’t listening.” He chuckles, giving me a knowing look. “Hope he takes it easy on you.”
Mr. Blake glances down at me, his expression unreadable, but the sharp glint in his eyes makes my stomach flip. His smile is slow, calculated. “Oh, I don’t plan to.”
We say our goodbyes and continue down the hall, so many questions running through my head. What does he mean he won’t go easy on me? Why am I suddenly working with him? Why do I feel this overwhelming attraction to him? Instead of asking, I focus on calming my racing heartbeat and mindlessly follow him until I realize we’re back at his office. “Take a seat.”
I hesitate. “I’m good standing, actually.”
“Sit down, Georgia.”
His voice is firm, authoritative, brooking no argument. Reluctantly, I take a seat across from him as he settles behind his large desk. “If I hadn’t pressed, would you have withheld the fact that you were no longer dating my son?”
Dammit, not this again. “I’m a hard worker. Reliable. Trustworthy. I possess all the necessary qualifications for this position. I don’t think it matters.”
“And this morning? You two looked cozy. Far from broken up.”
“It’s—he… he came into my room sometime during the night. Just to sleep. We were together for ten months. Habit, I guess.”
He doesn’t react right away. He simply observes me, causing me to fidget nervously in my chair. “My intention wasn’t to hurt your son. It’s just better this way. If you think it’s best for me not to work here, I understand—”
“Did I say anything about firing you?”
“No—”
“I don’t plan on firing you. You’re mine for the next three months. You claim to have all the qualifications for this job? Prove it. I reviewed your transcripts. You’re studying business.”
I nod. “Yes. For now. I’m not sure what I want to do, but it seemed like a good starting point.”
“A business degree provides a strong foundation in market analysis, consumer behavior, and strategic planning—essential skills that not only help you sell effectively but enable you to understand the broader picture of how our company grows and thrives competitively. It’s the foundation for many successful careers.”
I sit up straighter, determination clear in my voice. “That’s what I want. I’m a fast learner. I’ll do anything.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how they sound. Heat rushes to my face as his gaze sharpens, dark amusement flickering in his eyes.
“I mean—”
His lips curve slightly, his stare holding mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “You’re a people pleaser,” he muses, voice smooth as silk. “I do enjoy a compliant employee. Tell me, Georgia… is that what you’d be?”
Desire floods my core, and I cross my legs to ease the tension. Part of me wants to confess I’m willing to comply with anything he demands. It’s inappropriate, but god, the thought of him gliding his tongue over my slit while talking filthy to me… my nipples pebble, and the throb between my legs makes me want to be bold.
Stop this.
“Can you do that for me, Georgia?” he repeats, and I snap out of my haze.
Jesus, Georgia.
“I—yes. I can. Anything you need.”
His smile deepens, like he’s enjoying this little power play far too much. It’s the kind of grin that could convince a saint to sin—and I feel anything but saintly.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, needing air, space—anything to break the tension coiling between us. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”
He leans back slightly, nodding as if he’s already won. “Of course. Do what you need to do. Come back refreshed.”
My eyes flick to his, searching for something—some indication that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Does he? Can he sense how turned on I am?
The thought of it heats my skin. I quickly stand and smooth my skirt, praying I haven’t left any evidence of my unraveling composure. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I force my legs to move, practically racing out of his office before I do something reckless—like beg him to test how compliant I can be.