11. Jackson
Chapter eleven
Jackson
“G et me his file,” I snap into the phone. “I want to know how this kid passed the screening exams and ended up on my payroll.”
I hang up with Wayne and lean back in my chair, my jaw tight as I scan the evidence spread out before me. Every detail points to one conclusion.
Jethro Brock. At least, that’s the name on his application. Hired six months ago as a material handler—bottom of the totem pole. His keycard shouldn’t have given him access to the operations room. He shouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near the system controls. Yet, he bypassed security, entered the restricted area, and tampered with our operating system.
The result? Machines thrown out of sync. Production lines disrupted. An entire multi-million-dollar order jeopardized.
All by a kid with no prior experience. No relevant background. No logical way to explain how he had the skills—or the clearance—to pull off something this precise.
Unless he wasn’t just some kid. Unless he was planted.
Fake name. Fake credentials. A decoy sent to sabotage a billion-dollar deal with our biggest client.
The pen in my hand snaps in two, ink bleeding across my fingers. My teeth grind together. Son of a bitch.
This wasn’t some clerical oversight. It was calculated—intentional. Someone's playing games, and they’re going to regret it.
A notification chimes, reminding me of my dinner reservation. The timing couldn’t be worse—walking away from work now feels like a mistake—but I insisted on this dinner. If I cancel, I’ll only make things worse with Noah.
I arrive at the restaurant on time. As expected, he’s not here.
“Good evening, Mr. Blake. Your usual table?” I nod to the waitress, and she leads me to my preferred secluded table near the back of the restaurant. Within minutes, she’s returning with a bourbon.
“Your drink, Mr. Blake. Is there anything else I can get for you right now, or would you like to wait for your guests to arrive?”
I glance up. The moment my eyes land on Georgia, my focus sharpens.
“Give me a minute. Thanks,” I say dismissively, barely registering whoever was speaking to me.
She scans the restaurant, her gaze drifting—until it lands on me. Our eyes lock. There’s a beat of hesitation. Then, with a quick nod to Noah, she starts walking toward me, cautious but steady. My jaw tightens as I take her in. I’ve kept my distance, done my best to ignore the temptation, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look.
And right now? I’m feasting.
“Hey,” she says, stopping beside the table. “Noah had to use the restroom—”
“Sit down, Peach.”
She hesitates for only a beat before sliding into the chair across from me. My eyes immediately drop to the dip of her low-cut blouse and the subtle rise and fall of her breath. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“I haven’t seen you in the office,” she says, her voice soft, carrying a hint of hesitation, as if she’s unsure whether she should even ask.
“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough.” Stop messing with her, asshole.
She fidgets with her hands, picking up a roll of silverware and arranging everything back the way it was. Sensing my gaze, she drops her hands in her lap. “Oh… I thought you were avoiding me or something.”
Damn right, I am. As much as I would love to have her in my sight all day, keeping my hands off her would be impossible. I can’t be in her presence without my mind sinking into dark places. Her lips... perky tits... the way her tight cunt would feel wrapped around my cock.
I grab my drink and lean back. “Why would I be avoiding you?”
She swallows, crossing her legs. “Because of what—we—”
“What happened was a one-time thing. It was irresponsible of me. And you. The best thing we can do is pretend it never happened.”
“But it did.”
“And what would you say happened?” Her lips part. Color flushes along her cheekbones. I’m asking for trouble, but I need to hear the filthy words in her soft voice.
“I—we…”
“For someone bold enough to come into my bedroom after being warned and drop to her knees in my shower, your shyness amuses me.”
“I’m not shy. I know what happened. And I know you enjoyed it. Or do you lose yourself like that with everyone who blows you?”
My eyebrows rise at her blunt comment. “It’s not every day I have an innocent little thing begging for my cock.”
“I’m not innocent.”
“As you’ve proven. Do you make a habit out of luring your boyfriend’s daddies—”
“It’s clear I read the situation wrong. That’s my bad. But I don’t need your condescending attitude over a mediocre—”
“Did you get yourself off after?”
“What?”
“After you sucked my cock, did you go back to your room and fuck yourself?”
Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. She sure as fuck did. “Answer the question, Peach .” She squirms in her chair.
Hell, what I wouldn’t do to watch her play with herself…
She lifts her chin. “Yes. I did.”
“Was it just as mediocre? Did you think about me when you touched yourself? My son? Both of us—?”
“Sorry, someone was cleaning the stalls. What are we talking about?” Noah asks, sitting next to Georgia.
I take a sip of my bourbon. “Just asking how Georgia is enjoying her experience thus far.”
Noah smiles down at Georgia. “Oh yeah? What’s the verdict?”
“She says it’s been mediocre.” I’m an asshole, digging myself a hole. Her cheeks flare crimson. Noah pats her thigh, causing her to jump.
“Don’t worry. It’ll get easier.”
The waitress returns. “Can I get you two something to drink?”
“I’ll take a glass of the Cab. She’ll take the same.”
That little shit.
Noah’s pushing his limits. He knows we’re at a restaurant where I dine frequently, and the staff won’t question his age. I hold my tongue, and she excuses herself to get their order.
“Since when do you drink wine?” I ask.
“I’ve been known to drink a bottle or two of your secret stash.” I assumed the missing wine was his fault.
“And did you enjoy the three-hundred-dollar bottles?” I inquire, fuming at his blatant disrespect.
He laughs and leans back in his chair. “Couldn’t tell you. I was too blitzed to remember.”
My fingers clench around my glass. I should have shipped him off to a reform school and enrolled him in programs that provided proper guidance and a support system, which I failed to do. The man he’s growing into is not acceptable. I should have been stricter, less worried about him accepting me as a parent, and more consistent with rules. “Well, that’s a shame since you bought it.”
He snickers. “Huh?”
“Three hundred dollars will be deducted from your first paycheck. Next time, you’ll be less willing to take what doesn’t belong to you.”
He sits forward. “You’re kidding me.”
“Does it look like I’m kidding? You’re underage. And a thief.”
“I’ve been drinking since I was, like, thirteen. The wine was in the house—how the fuck is that stealing? And since when do you care?” He raises his voice, catching the attention of a server walking by.
“Noah, please.” Georgia tries to quiet him, but I’m more than familiar with my son’s mannerisms. He’s far from backing down.
“No. This is bullshit. One minute, you want to be this cool dad who’ll do anything to win my attention, and the next, you’re charging me?”
He goes to say more, but the server arrives with two glasses of wine. Noah smiles at her, then takes his glass and stares directly at me. “Cheers, Dad.” He swirls the wine in the glass, then tips it back, not stopping until it’s gone. “Feel free to add that one to my bill too.”
He goes to stand, but Georgia throws her palm against his chest. “Noah, sit down.”
“No, I’m not—”
“Sit. Down.” Her voice is stern, and it awakens my cock. Feisty little thing. I expect Noah to slap her hand away and take off. “Please. It’s not worth it.” She barely spares me a glance, her gaze guarded. Looks like I’ve bruised her fragile ego.
Fine. That just means we have some things to discuss—once Noah storms off and leaves her to fend for herself.
I lean back, waiting. Watching.
Noah’s chest rises and falls in slow, controlled breaths. His jaw tenses as he flicks his attention to her, clearly weighing his next move. After a long beat, he exhales sharply and sinks back into his chair.
Too bad.
The server returns, and Noah pounces. “Great timing,” he says, flashing an easy smile. I already know where this is headed.
“We’ll take a bottle of the Cab. Make sure it’s a good year.”
The server peers at me for consent, and I nod, then wave my glass, indicating I need another round myself. My phone buzzes, and I reach inside my suit coat, pulling it out. HR. Fuck. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this.”
I drain the rest of my bourbon and then find a more secluded spot to take the call. “What did you find?” I snap.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blake,” Kayla, my head of human resources, begins, her voice tense. “I’ve reviewed his file a million times, and I still don’t know how it slipped through the screening process. All his information is fake—every reference is bogus, the phone numbers are disconnected, and the address on file is a sandwich shop in the West Suburbs.”
I grit my teeth, my grip tightening around my phone. “So, you’re telling me that my senior recruiter hired a kid with zero experience, zero references, and no valid form of identification?”
There’s a pause, the silence thick with tension. I don’t need to see Kayla to know she’s shaking. And she damn well should be.
“I’m not pointing fingers,” she rushes out, “but I was on maternity leave when he was hired. I never would have signed off on something like this.”
“Then who the hell did?”
“I—I don’t know,” she stammers. “Whoever covered for me from the temp agency? I can pull the records, find out who they sent—”
“Don’t bother.” My voice is clipped, my patience gone. “I’m heading back to the office.”
I hang up and return back to the table, my mood soured.
“Fun’s over,” I announce, glancing between them. “There’s an emergency at work.”
“Shocker.”
I don’t have the time or patience for his shit right now. “Enjoy yourselves. Eat. I’ll see you both back at the house.” Noah doesn’t spare me a glance and drinks his wine. “Watch it with the wine.” He finishes his glass and picks up the bottle to refill.
I stop at the valet on my way out, throwing a wad of cash and instructing them to have someone drive Noah’s car home and call for an Uber when they’re ready to go.