Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5)
Page 3
“Great, you’re here,” Marta Raimono, Addie’s mom, said when she spotted her in the kitchen. “I need you to start on the cannoli for the Eckhart bridal shower tomorrow.”
Thank you. If she had to work at the bakery, she preferred to stay in the back out of sight. On the rare occasions she worked out front, she worried someone she’d either worked with in Boston or someone she’d done design work for would show up and recognize her. Granted, in the two years she’d been back it had only happened once, but that was once too often for her. Even now, when she thought about the afternoon Sue Adamson walked in, she cringed. Both of them had been hired by Ducat and Wakefield Designers right after graduation. In the beginning they’d been friends, bouncing ideas off each other and getting to know the city together. Despite Addie being the more talented of the two, Sue began to get more and more high profile accounts. At first she hadn’t been able to figure out why. When Raphael Ducat, one of the partners, filed for divorce and then suddenly started showing up everywhere with Sue glued to his side, Addie, along with everyone else, figured out the secret to Sue’s sudden success.
Addie slipped an apron over her head as she headed for the long prep table in the back. Already her mom had pulled out trays of unfilled cannoli shells. As she settled into a routine, her thoughts turned away from Sue and toward the gentleman she’d had coffee with that afternoon. In all honesty, she’d never expected to see Trent again. When she looked up and saw him standing there she’d almost fallen from her seat. At first she feared he was a figment of her imagination. After all, since their run in, she had thought of him often. She’d even caved in and sketched him two nights earlier. When he’d asked to sit down, it had taken several seconds for her brain to get a response out of her mouth. As they sat and talked she forced herself to not stare at him, which had been no easy task. He, like everyone else in his family, looked as if they belonged in the movies. For as long as she could remember, pictures of him and others in the Sherbrooke family had been in the media and, unless they had some secret family member locked up somewhere, the entire family was stunning.
Then, as if that hadn’t been enough, he’d asked if she’d be interested in a job. Her first instinct had been to throw her arms around him and shout “yes.” Talk about excellent publicity for her business. Somehow though, she’d controlled herself and offered up a simple yes. But even now as she considered the possibility of working for Trent Sherbrooke, her excitement grew. If she redecorated his office and he liked it, she could have other high profile clients knocking on her office door.
“Wow, you’re halfway done already.”
Her mom’s voice caused her hands to still and she glanced down at the shells on the table. Sure enough, one whole tray was finished. “I guess I got into a good rhythm.”
Her mom patted her arm. “When you’re done with that can you start on the biscotti. I need two dozen hazelnut and two dozen almond for tomorrow.”
With a nod, Addie slipped back into autopilot. She’d been filling cannoli shells since she was twelve years old and could do it half-asleep at this point. As she reached for another shell, her mind went back to how her business might benefit if she completed a project for Trent Sherbrooke.
Chapter 3
Trent passed through the secret service agents posted at the gates of Cliff House and followed the winding driveway toward the garage. As the mansion came into view, he slowed. It’d been at least a year since he’d last visited, and he’d forgotten just how grand the old mansion was. In fact, it’d give the grand estates he’d visited while in England and France a run for their money.
Accelerating once more, he took the final bend in the driveway, pulled in alongside a black Austin Martin, and then he killed the engine. Once outside he took his time as he walked toward the main house. Unlike in the city, a cool breeze came up off the ocean, making the hot July day bearable despite the high humidity.
Like magic, the massive front door opened before he even reached for the handle and his uncle’s solemn-faced butler greeted him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Sherbrooke. Your aunt has been expecting you.” The man spoke in his ever-constant monotone voice as he stepped inside. “Everyone is out on the veranda,” the man said as he closed the door.
Trent passed through the familiar halls. As a child he and his siblings spent countless days at the mansion visiting with their cousins. Only when he’d hit his teens had his visits become less frequent, as he chose to spend his vacations from school in more exotic locations.
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Jake said good-naturedly when Trent stepped outside.
After giving Jake a friendly thump on the back, Trent took a seat at the table. “I knew how devastated you’d all be if you didn’t see me before you left.” Of all his cousins, he was closest to Jake. Less than a year older than Jake, he’d spent much of his childhood with him. Later they’d attended the same boarding school in Connecticut. During college they’d seen less of each other. While Trent had attended Harvard like so many other Sherbrookes, his cousin had gone to Caltech. After graduation, they once again spent much of their time together visiting the same nightclubs and casinos. These days, though, they rarely saw each other. In fact, the last time he’d seen Jake had been more than a year and half ago at a New Year’s Eve party.
“It is wonderful to see you. I feared you wouldn’t make it before I leave,” Elizabeth Sherbrooke said, her voice still accented although she’d lived in the United States for over thirty years. “Your uncle is expecting me back in Washington tomorrow.”
He’d hoped to see his uncle that weekend. Ever since his conversation with Sara regarding Marty Phillips he’d wanted to get his uncle’s opinion. His absence today came as no shock, however. No matter how important the cause, his uncle couldn’t attend every fundraiser the family sponsored now that he was president.
“Have you met everyone?” Elizabeth asked.
“Everyone except Prince Charming’s wife,” he said, using the nickname the media had given his cousin years earlier.
Jake gave him a dirty look, then turned to the redhead seated next to him. “Charlie, this is my cousin Trent.”
The woman extended her hand toward him. “It’s nice to meet you. Jake’s told me a lot about you.” She gave him a smile that indicated her husband had shared a lot of personal information with her, including some he’d probably wished Jake hadn’t.
Trent accepted the woman’s hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. We’ll have to talk later. I have some stories that I could share with you that I bet Jake has never mentioned.”
“Hey, Trent. Sara said you might stop by.” Christopher Hall appeared at the doorway. “Nice to see you again,” he said as he joined everyone at the table.
He’d known Jake’s former college roommate and best friend for several years. In fact, on numerous occasions they’d prowled the Los Angles nightclubs together. “Congratulations on the engagement.” When the three of them had hung out together, Christopher had always been the one he imagined settled and married someday. He’d just never imagined it would be to his younger cousin Sara. Yet the two appeared happy and in love.
“Sara said you decided to run for Senate.”
Trent looked over at Dylan, his uncle’s stepson and his cousin’s husband. He’d known Dylan all his life and considered him family. Other than himself, he’d thought Dylan the least likely of everyone gathered at the table to ever marry. Now the no-nonsense executive sat with an arm around his pregnant wife’s shoulders. Talk about times changing.
With a nod, he answered. “Yes, I’ve hired Marty Phillips to run my campaign. My father and I met with him earlier this week.”
Across the table Callie frowned and glanced over at Sara, but remained silent.
“Good luck. If there’s anything I can do, let me know,” Dylan said, his subtle English accent lacing his voice.
“Same here, Trent.” Jake’s voice pulled his attention away from Dylan and Callie.
“Warren is pleased with your decision,” his aunt said. “He spoke with your father earlier this week.”
His Aunt Elizabeth’s comment came as no surprise. The Sherbrooke family had been involved in politics for years. In a way it was expected that at least one Sherbrooke male from each generation would get involved in politics. For the longest time his aunt and uncle had hoped Jake would follow in the family tradition even though he’d never displayed an interest. For Trent it’d always been in the back of his mind, but until that past spring he hadn’t been ready to take the plunge. Instead, he’d been content with his position at Sherbrooke Enterprises and his rather carefree lifestyle. When Callie and Dylan announced her pregnancy though, a switch had gone on inside him. He’d taken a good look around and realized that everyone he cared about was making these grand changes in their lives except him.
“Thanks, Trent. Now they’ll stop harassing me about it,” Jake said.
“You’re father hasn’t mentioned it to you in a long time Jake.” Trent’s aunt said from the head of the table. “He’s accepted that you have no interest in politics.”
Jake looked over at him. “A long time to them means six months. But now, thanks to you, the heats off me. I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll hold you to that.”
***
Addie recorded the last two deposits she’d made into her company checking account. Once she verified that the balance on her spreadsheet matched the one on the bank’s website, she turned her attention to her monthly bills. Both her rent and electric bill were due, as were a handful of bills to contractors. Whenever this time of the month rolled around she cursed herself for going out on her own. Handling the money side of the business was her least favorite part of her job. She found it not only depressing to see the balance in her account go down, but also tedious. Several months before she started her own company she’d taken a few accounting classes at the local community college. It’d had taken all of her self-disciple to complete them. How anyone majored in accounting and then spent the rest of their working life elbow-deep in numbers was beyond her. If at some point she made enough, she planned to hire someone to take care of all the financial aspects of her company.
Do a good job for Trent Sherbrooke and perhaps that accountant will be in the future even sooner. Addie stuffed the check she’d written into the envelope, her mind going back to Trent. What kind of office would he prefer? Did he like a more traditional style or would his tastes lean toward the ultra-contemporary? Not that it mattered. She’d learned long ago to put aside her own personal tastes and focus on the client. It had been something she’d struggled with on her first few jobs after college. Now though, her personal views stayed safely under lock and key. Even still, she found the projects she enjoyed the most were ones that were more in line with her own preferences.
Right before she left Ducat and Wakefield, she worked with a couple that had purchased a lovely home in Wellesley, which in her opinion hadn’t needed anything. Without even moving into the home, the couple called the firm requesting a complete redesign. They’d wanted the entire first floor opened up and then redecorated. By the end of the project, they’d knocked down walls and added windows making the first floor look like one giant room. Then they added futuristic-looking furniture and lots of stainless steel. By the time Addie finished work on the home, it reminded her of some exhibit from a “houses of the future” display. The couple had loved it and had even given her a rave review, which had pleased her supervisors.
She hoped Trent preferred a more traditional decorating style. It would make the process all the more enjoyable. Maybe almost as enjoyable as looking at him. As much as she didn’t judge a person on looks alone, she’d loved looking at him that day over coffee. She’d found it difficult to look away from his dark blue, almost sapphire-colored eyes. The sun had bronzed his face, its features rugged and sensual at the same time. His strong jaw and chin hinted at a stubborn streak and his mouth, oh man, she could have watched his lips move all day.
Addie slipped her checkbook back into her desk and let herself daydream for a little longer. Yes, he was by far the most gorgeous man she’d ever spoken with. Why couldn’t some of the men she came in contact with on a daily basis look like that? Then again, perhaps it was better that they didn’t. Otherwise she, along with the rest of the female population, would never get any work done.
“Addie,” Tara said from the other side of the door, interrupting her daydream.
“Come on in.” She’d have to fantasize again later.
“Here’s today’s mail.” Tara placed a stack of envelopes and the day’s newspaper on her desk.
“Thanks.” She started sifting through the envelopes, sorting them into two piles, one for bills and another for junk mail. Even at work she received junk mail. Perhaps even more than at home.
“Could I check out the society section of the paper? My cousin’s wedding announcement should be in there.”
Addie reached for the paper at the bottom of her pile. She didn’t even know why she bothered with it. She rarely read it anymore. “You can keep it.” She tugged the society section from the paper and her mouth dropped open.
“What’s wrong?”
In silence, Addie turned the page toward Tara.
“Is that you and Trent Sherbrooke?”
Addie nodded, unable to speak, then she turned the paper back around hoping the picture had changed. Unfortunately, it remained the same a photo of her and Trent enjoying coffee at Ambrosia with the headline “Coffee For Two: Legendary playboy cozies up with local small business owner.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you met him. What’s he like?”
Why would someone take and send in the picture? How had they known her name? Both her name and company name were stated in the article under the picture.
“Addie?” Tara asked again.
“What?” She tore her eyes from the paper.
“What’s he like?”
Addie rubbed her forehead as a headache started. “Nice. Or at least he seemed that way.” She scanned the article, then put the paper down. “This is awful.”
“It doesn’t seem that bad to me.” Tara picked up the discarded paper. “It’s not like you’re sitting with a serial killer or anything. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Not worry about it? Someone not only took her picture but also passed it on. How could she not worry?
Chapter 4
A knock on his office door drew Trent’s attention away from the documents on his desk.
“Marty Phillips is here to see you,” Shirley said after she opened the door.
“Send him in, Shirley.” Absorbed in his work, he’d lost track of time. He’d intended to grab a quick lunch before his meeting with Marty. “And when you get a chance, order me a lunch, please. The same thing I had on Tuesday. Check with Marty and see if he wants anything.”
With a nod, Shirley moved away from the door, and seconds later Marty entered. Immediately, Sara’s warning surfaced. Despite his insistence, she still refused to elaborate on her comments from the other day, but even so, she’d made her feelings clear. Maybe he should have questioned Dylan at Cliff House.
“It’s nice to see you again.” Trent stood and ignored the questions in his gut when he considered the purpose of their meeting. Marty had complied a list of potential marriage candidates in record time. Today they’d go through it and select one. As he came around his desk, he lowered the knot in his tie a fraction of an inch. If he wanted to win, this was what he needed to do.
He’d reminded himself of that over and over ever since Marty confirmed this meeting with him. Even Sara believed a steady relationship and then marriage was the best way to repair his image. Of course, she disagreed with this method
, but she was biased. If Marty felt this was the best course of action, he’d go with it. After all, many politicians had this man to thank for their positions.
Marty dropped his briefcase on the conference table near the windows. “I put together comprehensive binders on three potential wives.” He pulled out the spiral bound binders and placed them on the table as he sat. “But I have another idea that trumps the entire thing.”
Intrigued, Trent took the seat across from the campaign advisor. Before today Marty had been dead set on the idea of a marriage. What could’ve changed his mind?
“Did you by any chance see the society section in yesterday’s Providence Gazette?”
Trent shook his head and waited. He didn’t even remember that the Gazette had a society section.
Across the table Marty pulled something else from his briefcase. “Forget about the women listed in those.” He pointed to the binders he’d first tossed down. “This is who I want you to win over and marry.” He held out a section of the newspaper and pointed to a picture that filled much of the page. “A similar picture showed up in the Boston Times this morning.”
Trent grabbed the paper, the headline over the picture taunting him. “Coffee For Two: Legendary playboy cozies up with local small business owner.”
“How the hell is this possible? There were no photographers around.” At least he didn’t think so, yet there was no mistaking the picture of Addison and him having coffee at Ambrosia.