Chapter 7: Mr. Robinson Wants to See You

Georgia froze, staring at Beckett with wide, bewildered eyes. She’d never seen him before in her life—she was sure of it.

Beckett turned to the security guard, his frustration bubbling over. “Are you blind? This is Ms. Adams, a very important guest of the Atkinson Group. Now, you’re fired! Get out of here, you idiot!”

The guard’s jaw dropped. Before he could stammer out a word, Beckett spun back to Georgia, his tone instantly softening. “Ms. Adams, please forgive this fool for his incompetence. We will deal with him immediately. Come in, please. I’m right in the middle of finalizing the contract. Once it’s ready, I was planning to deliver it to you myself.”

Georgia blinked, her head spinning. A contract? Deliver it personally? Was this a dream? Everything felt far too surreal.

“Mr. Robinson… did you say you’re working on the contract?” she asked hesitantly, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Does that mean… my family got it?”

Beckett gave her a firm nod, his expression unwavering. “Of course. It’s all for you, Ms. Adams.”

Georgia felt her stomach flip. She must have misheard—this couldn’t possibly be real.

Beckett continued, “How about this? I will find someone and drive you home now and you can wait for me there comfortably. I’ll bring the contract over as soon as it’s ready. It might take a little time to finalize the details, and I wouldn’t want to keep you here waiting.”

He smiled politely, but there was a clear urgency in his tone, as though he couldn’t risk offending her.

Georgia managed a faint nod, still dazed. “Alright. I’ll wait for you at home, Mr. Robinson.”

As she made her way out of the building, Georgia let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t wrap her head around what had just happened. This was too absurd—it had to be a mistake. She’d come here expecting rejection, maybe even humiliation. Instead, she’d walked straight into a miracle.

But why? Had Beckett Robinson mistaken her for someone else? Was this some elaborate prank? Either way, she’d find out soon enough. For now, all she could do was go home and wait, like he said.

---

The rumble of her motorcycle filled the air as Georgia sped down the road, her mind racing. Beckett’s words replayed in her head over and over. None of it made sense.

Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket, jolting her out of her thoughts. Pulling over, she fished it out and glanced at the screen. It was her grandma.

Of course. She was probably calling about the contract. Georgia hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Georgia, where are you?” her grandmother’s sharp voice barked on the other end. The anger in her tone made Georgia flinch.

“I… I just left the Atkinson Group,” she stammered, looking around as though searching for an escape route.

“You have ten minutes. Get home now.” And with that, her grandma hung up.

Georgia sighed and put her phone away, muttering under her breath, “Nice chat, as always.” With no other choice, she revved her bike and headed home.

---

Exactly ten minutes later, Georgia parked her motorcycle outside the Adams villa. The house loomed over her, as cold and imposing as ever. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

Elizabeth was waiting in the grand hall, her face a mask of fury. Jamie, Layla, and a few others were seated nearby, their smug expressions making it clear they were here to watch the show.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Jamie sneered the moment Georgia walked in.

Layla leaned forward with a mocking grin. “So, how’d it go, Georgia? Did you secure the deal with the Atkinson Group? If you did, why don’t you show Grandma the contract?”

“Come on, Layla,” Jamie cut in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think just anyone can go in and sign a contract with the Atkinson Group? I’d be surprised if she even got past the front desk.”

Layla giggled. “And let’s not forget how she got there—a motorcycle, of all things. Can you imagine? No wonder they probably threw her out.”

Jamie smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Georgia, seriously? Riding a motorcycle? You’re not just embarrassing yourself—you’re embarrassing the whole family. What do you think the Atkinson Group is going to say about us now? That we’re a joke?”

Georgia clenched her fists, her anger bubbling to the surface. “A car!” she snapped bitterly. “If I had one, do you think I’d be riding a motorcycle? You’ve got some nerve, Jamie. All you do is drive around in your fancy car, stirring up trouble and bragging like you’re something special. What good are you?”

“Enough!” Elizabeth’s voice boomed across the room, silencing everyone. Her hand slammed down on the table, sending a teacup toppling over. The tea spilled, but no one dared move.

“Georgia,” she said sternly, her piercing gaze locked on her granddaughter. “How did the negotiations go?”

Caught off guard, Georgia hesitated. Before she could speak, her grandmother’s voice turned icy. “Answer me!”

Swallowing hard, Georgia finally said, “Mr. Robinson… he said he’d bring the contract over later.”

The room fell silent. Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she shot to her feet. “What did you just say?”

Georgia straightened her back, forcing herself to stay calm. “Mr. Robinson said he’s decided to sign with our family. He’ll bring the contract over once it’s ready.”

For a moment, Elizabeth looked like she might faint. This could change everything. If they secured a partnership with the Atkinson Group, the Adams family could rise to the top in just a few years.

But then Jamie burst out laughing, shattering the moment. “Grandma, come on. You don’t actually believe her, do you?”

Elizabeth turned to Jamie with a frown. “What do you mean?”

Jamie grinned. “Think about it. Georgia went there on a motorcycle. You really think someone like Mr. Robinson would meet with her, and even sign a contract? Big players like Mr. Castaneda and Mr. Benton—guys worth billions—have been trying to get that contract for months, and even they couldn’t get a meeting. But Georgia?”

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed, her excitement fading. Jamie’s words made sense. Why would someone as influential as Beckett Robinson choose their family?

Her gaze darkened as she turned back to Georgia. “Were you lying to me?” she demanded. “Do you think this is some kind of joke? It’s bad enough if you failed, but to make up a story like this?”

“I’m not lying!” Georgia protested, her voice shaking. “I swear, Grandma, everything I said is true!”

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head. “Even if he did say all that, he was probably just making fun of her. Georgia, you’re so gullible. Do you really think someone like Mr. Robinson means every word he says? He was probably just trying to be nice with you.”

Georgia’s confidence wavered. Could Jamie be right? Had she been stupid enough to believe something that wasn’t real?

Before she could dwell on it, the butler appeared at the doorway, his voice cutting through the tension. “Madam, Mr. Beckett Robinson is at the door. He wants to see you.”

The room went dead silent.