Page 86 of Own the Eights
I quit. Effective immediately.
He signed the brief note, folded the paper, then slid it into the envelope. He was done being Deacon Perry’s righthand man, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to lie to his children so he could go screw some college student in a bathroom.
He called the girls over. “I need to go do something important. Could you give this to your dad for me?”
Mia took the envelope. “He’s here! Daddy’s really here?”
“Yep, he’s back in the office,” Jordan answered.
Deacon was not going to be a deadbeat dad on his watch.
The girls skipped through the gym toward the back office, and he turned to Maureen.
“I can’t continue to work for Deacon.”
“I know,” she answered.
“And I hate to run out like this, but I’ve got to try and get Georgie back.”
Maureen squeezed his hand. “From the first time you set foot in the gym, all those years ago, I knew you were one of the good guys.”
“Thanks, Maureen. That means a lot coming from you.”
Her eyes shining, she gestured to the door. “Go win back your girl.”
At a speed that would have rivaled that of The Flash, he tore out of the gym and sprinted down the street. Heading straight for Georgie’s bookshop, an idea for a blog post sparked. He had to make his feelings known. He had to get his apology out there for all to see and let the world know that he loved—yes, loved—Georgiana Jensen.
When he’d wanted to be like Deacon, it wasn’t the millionaire screwing twenty-somethings he admired. It was the entrepreneur who loved his wife and daughters. His mentor may have veered off the path, but he didn’t have to sacrifice love for success. Building a life with Georgie would be all the success he’d ever need.
His pulse racing, he burst into the bookshop and caught a glimpse of a woman with a messy bun holding up a book. “Georgie! I don’t care if you sic Mr. Tuesday on me, I need to talk to you. I love you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The woman lowered the book.
The woman was not Georgie.
“Are you having a seizure?” Becca, Georgie’s part-time employee, asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He did feel out of his mind but in a really good way.
Mr. Tuesday came out from behind the counter, and Jordan knelt down to greet the pup.
“Sic ’em, boy,” Becca commanded.
The dog cocked his head to the side.
“Well, it was worth a shot. What do you want, Marks? We’re fresh out of the new release ofHow to Be a Douchebag. But, you seem to already have gotten that down.”
“Is Georgie here?” he asked, completely deserving of all the shit Georgie’s friend could dish out.
Becca narrowed her gaze. “No, she left for the race. Why are you here?”
He threw up his hands. “Did you not hear the wholeI love Georgie and don’t want to live without herdeclaration?”
“Oh, I heard it. I also heard you threw her under the bus,” Becca answered with an epic eye roll.
He took a step forward. “I screwed up. I know, and I’m going to fix it,” he said, then glanced at the laptop on the counter. “Is that yours?”
