Page 62 of The Millionaire's Mechanic

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

Georgia had known telling everyone at Elite that she was giving her two weeks’ notice was going to be difficult, but she had no idea what she was in for.

What is it they say?No one expected the Spanish Inquisition.

Mitch took it pretty well considering. “Well, aren’t you an opportunistic little bitch?” he said with a sneer when Georgia explained her work on the Talbot had led to Rainer Torsten bankrolling a car restoration business.

“It was his idea,” she mumbled defensively, all the eyes on her making her shrink in on herself.

They were in the break room, Georgia having decided to tell Mitch during a rare lull in the workday in front of witnesses, including Judy, Sam, and Fredo.

“I think it’s great,” Judy said loyally. She came to sit next to Georgia at the table, a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Mitch sniffed dismissively. “Yeah, the car is nice, but we all know Mack is the one who got the ball rolling on that. All you had to do was continue what he started.”

“That’s bullshit,” Georgia snapped in a rare moment of anger so great that it moved her to defend herself. How dare he impugn her skills? She was a better mechanic than him with one hand tied behind her back.

“Mack didn’t want to touch that car, because he knew it would make Ephraim happy. His beef with our dad was that big and that petty. I did all the work. Anyone who follows my Insta knows it—I was posting updates at every step.”

“Whatever,” Mitch muttered. “You and I both know a big shot like Torsten wouldn’t drop a wad of cash after seeing one car—not unless he was getting something extra to sweeten the deal.”

“Hey!” The indignant exclamations that came from both Samantha and Judy simultaneously should have been a balm to her soul, but Georgia hunched over as if she’d been struck.

“Don’t be an asshole, Mitch,” Samantha snapped. “If Torsten wants to invest in Georgia, it’s because she’s talented.”

The unspoken implication that he wouldn’t want her for anything else was clear in Samantha’s tone. And yes, it stung despite the fact she knew Sam wasn’t trying to be cruel. It simply didn’t register to the stylish blonde that a man like Rainer would ever desire someone like Georgia.

Aware he was setting himself up for a reprimand from HR, Mitch rolled his eyes, leaving the break room.

“He’s just jealous,” Judy said, patting Georgia’s hand. “It’s better that you’re moving on. You don’t want to stay working under that sexist pig. He just can’t imagine a world where a woman would get a chance like this unless she was sleeping with someone.”

Flushing, Georgia nodded, looking down at the table. She felt about two inches tall.

Fredo pushed in his chair next to Judy. “Do you think Brantman will be pissed off that you’re poaching one of his big clients and starting your own business?”

“Maybe,” Georgia confessed. “But we’re not going to be in competition—not really. It’s not as if Elite sells many classic cars. Most of the inventory is new. We mainly just service them. And I’m not going to be in a position to do much of that in the beginning. I was thinking of shunting the service back here if I can’t fit in a tune-up or oil change.”

“You never said how Torsten heard about the Talbot in the first place,” Fredo said.

Georgia shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I was approached by one of his people,” she lied.

“And you didn’t ask?” Judy frowned.

Georgia lifted a shoulder. “I assumed he heard someone here mention it.”

“Or he came across your Instagram,” Judy suggested.

“It doesn’t make much of a difference now. But it’s cool,” Fredo said, pointing a finger at her as he stood. “Don’t forget I said that when you start making the big bucks. I may need another job if Mitch the bitch keeps on being such an asshole.”

Making a mock shudder, he rinsed his cup at the sink, saluting them before leaving.

Alone with Judy, Georgia took a sip from her mug, avoiding her friend’s eyes.

Judy leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you slept with my imaginary boyfriend,” she scolded.

Choking on her coffee, Georgia spit French vanilla goodness all over herself. She grabbed a paper napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table, a deep, wracking cough making her shoulders shake.

“It serves you right.” Judy scowled. “Now spill or I will never speak to you again.”

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