Jameson shook his head. “At which time he can get you out.”
How? How could he be sure she’d get a visa below the quota? How could he be sure he’d get them out? How? The questions hit her at such speed that they all skimmed right over her, because everything in her soul, in the center of her being, had focused on the other piece in this puzzle. “Less than a month?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Less than a month.” The agony in Jameson’s eyes was something she’d never forget, but he nodded once. “If you agree.”
It was her choice, but there wasn’t one. Not really.
“Okay,” she agreed, tears pricking her eyes. “But only because of William.” She would risk her life to stay with Jameson, but she couldn’t risk her son’s if there was any other option.
Jameson forced a smile, then pressed a hard kiss against her forehead. “For William.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Georgia
Dear Jameson,
I miss you. I love you. I cannot bear to be away from you anymore. I know I’ll reach you before this letter, but I’m coming, my love. I cannot wait to feel your arms around me again…
I stared in open-mouthed shock as Mom slowly pocketed her cell phone, her cheeks turning pink.
“I will ask you again: what the hell are you doing?” Noah repeated as he marched toward the desk.
“She’s scanning the manuscript,” I whispered, gripping the back of a chair to remain upright.
“Holy shit.” Noah reached across the desk, yanking the stack of papers out of Mom’s reach with one hand and taking the box with the other. He quickly thumbed through the stack, not sparing a glance in Mom’s direction. “She got the first third of it,” he said to me, putting the manuscript back together and securing the lid.
“Why would you do that?” I asked, my voice breaking like a child’s.
“I just wanted to read it. Gran never let me, and we weren’t on the best terms the last time I was here.” Mom swallowed and slid her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
I tilted my head, trying to make sense of it. “We were on great terms until you walked out after you got what you came for.” I shook my head. “I would have let you read it if you’d wanted to. You didn’t have to sneak around. Didn’t have to—” My face fell, and I felt the blood drain straight out of it. “You weren’t scanning it for you.”
“He has every right to read it, Georgia.” She lifted her chin. “You know that contract states that he has the first right of refusal, and you’ve withheld it from him. You should have heard him on the phone, heartbroken that you were using business to get back at him.”
Damian. Mom was scanning the manuscript for Damian. My stomach knotted, dropping to the floor.
“She’s not selling the rights!” Noah’s voice rose, tension ebbing from every line of his torso. “It’s hard to have first right of refusal on a deal that doesn’t exist.”
“You’re not selling the movie rights?” Mom stared at me in disbelief.
“No, Mom.” I shook my head. “He played you.” Damian had always been a smooth operator, but I’d never seen someone get one over on Mom.
“Why the hell not?” she fired back, stunning me into silence.
“I’m sorry?” Noah barked, stepping back to stand at my side, the shirt box safely tucked under his arm.
“Why the hell wouldn’t you sell the movie rights?” she shouted. “Do you know how much they’re worth? I’ll tell you. Millions, Georgia. They’re worth millions, and he—” She pointed to Noah. “He doesn’t own any of them. It’s just us, Gigi. You and me.”
“This is about money,” I whispered.
Mom blinked quickly, then adapted, her face softening. “Your party wasn’t, baby. But I was here. I really think that this could be the key to getting him back, and he promised to adapt it word for word. Don’t you believe him?”
“I don’t want him back, and I sure as hell don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth!” I sputtered, fire streaking through my veins as the anger pushed through the armor of my disbelief. “Did you honestly think you could force my hand? Make me sell him the rights?”
Mom glanced between Noah and me. “Well, I can’t now, since that’s not the finished manuscript.” Her eyes narrowed on Noah. “Where’s the ending?”
Noah’s jaw flexed.
“It’s not done yet,” I snapped. “And even if it was, you can’t force me into anything.”
“Millions, honey. Just think of what that could do for us,” she begged, coming around the side of the desk.
“You mean what it could do for you.” I put myself between her and Noah. “It’s always about you.”
“Why do you even care?” Mom shouted.
“Gran hated movies, and you think that out of all her books, I’m going to sell the rights to this one to any producer, let alone the man who slept with everything in a skirt?”
“I don’t give a shit what Gran wanted,” she hissed. “She sure as hell never gave me a second thought.”
“That’s not true.” I shook my head. “She loved you more than life. She only cut you out of the will when you decided to marry a hopelessly-in-debt gambler, so you’d stop looking like a payday to every guy who crossed your path. She cut you out to give you a chance at finding someone who really loved you!”
“She cut me out as a punishment for making her raise you!” she yelled, jabbing her finger in my direction. “Because I was the reason my parents were on the road that night, coming to watch my recital!”
“She never blamed you, Mom.” My heart stuttered to life, aching for everything she’d gotten wrong.
“The woman you adore so blindly doesn’t exist to me, Georgia.” She looked past me to Noah. “Give me the endings. Both of them.”
“I told you, they’re not done!” How did she even know there would be two?
Her gaze shifted slowly to meet mine, her features transforming to a look of such pity that I recoiled, stepping back in to Noah. “Oh, you sweet, naive little girl. Didn’t you learn anything from the last man who lied to you?”
“This is done. You need to go.” I straightened my spine. I wasn’t the toddler she’d abandoned during afternoon nap anymore, or even the teary-eyed preteen who stared out the window for hours after she’d disappeared once more.