Screw it. Regardless of anything else, he’d sit her down and tell her the truth when she got here. And he’d start by first telling her he was sorry. He’d make sure to admit he’d been wrong, too, at some point during the conversation. In his experience, women liked when men admitted they’d been wrong.
Before his thumb blew up to the size of a tennis ball, he got an ice pack and called it a day. The risk of doing some permanent damage was too great. The kitchen would still be there tomorrow. Instead, he’d leave the ice on for bit and then play a video game. One of those didn’t require much brain activity, just eyes and hands.
The sound of a car door closing reached him as he crossed the foyer. Although he had a good idea of the time already, he checked his watch. A little after noon. Way too early to be Taylor. Priscilla maybe? Did she need some kind of help? Had Eliza returned?
Curt pulled open the door and found Trent standing there, his index finger hovering over the doorbell.
“Still getting ready for your audition on Left in The Wild, I see,” Trent said, in lieu of a proper greeting.
Skip the video games. Talking to his cousin didn’t require much brain activity either. “What are you doing here?” He’d given his cousin his new address but assumed he would call before visiting, not show up on a random Monday afternoon.
“I had a meeting in Lowell. When it finished, I decided to drive here. See how your new project is going. I’m guessing not good.” He entered the house and pointed to the ice pack Curt held against his thumb.
Curt quickly glanced outside before he closed the door. Great. His cousin’s Bugatti Veyron sat in his driveway. Trent owned other cars, including a Mercedes, which he usually drove when he wanted to go unnoticed, and a SUV for when he traveled with his wife and son. Why couldn’t he have taken one of those today? No one would question either in his driveway. But a Bugatti would draw people’s attention. Even people not into cars. At least it was the middle of the day. Most of his neighbors would be at work. Maybe no one would drive by and see the car.
“Minor accident. They go with the territory.”
Trent checked out the library, the first room off the foyer. “Looks like the place has potential. How about a tour?”
They started upstairs and worked their way down. Curt intentionally left the kitchen for last.
“This looks familiar.” Trent walked around the room. “Addie will be happy when I tell her you designed the kitchen after ours in Newport. She insists that’s the best work she’s ever done.”
“Her layout and design fit this room well.”
“It looks like you’ve spent a lot of time working in here. Getting anything done on the book?” Trent didn’t ask before helping himself to a cola from the refrigerator.
Curt pulled out a drink for himself and leaned against the island that had been delivered. “Not even a damn word in over a week.” He popped the can open and took a long swallow. “At this rate, I’ll never get it finished.”
“Writer’s block, or something else keeping you from the keyboard?” Trent asked.
“Writer’s block.”
“How’ve you handled it before?”
“Different kind this time around.”
Trent leaned against the island, next to him. “I didn’t realize there were kinds.” He took a sip from the can before he spoke again. “Is this kind related to the DEA agent you’ve been seeing?”
Leave it to Trent to know his writer’s problems were related to a woman. Perhaps it was some kind of leftover benefit from dating so many women before meeting Addie.
“I think so.”
“Bull. You know it.”
He wanted to wipe the know-it-all smile off his cousin’s face. He refrained. Trent had spent years practicing various types of martial arts and boxing. If Curt started a fight with him, even a friendly one, he’d lose and he knew it.
“What’s the problem? Is she looking to get more serious than you want?” Trent asked.
“I plan on taking care of the problem tonight.” So he hadn’t answered Trent’s questions. Big deal.
Trent laughed. “She still doesn’t know who you really are, does she? Gray and I told you to come clean from the beginning. Now you’re in deep and feel guilty, right?” He clapped Curt on the shoulder. “You should’ve listened to us.”
“She’s coming over after work. And, like I said, I’ll explain everything then.” Never would he tell Trent he’d been right. The guy was insufferable as it was. “It would be better if you were gone before she gets here.”
“And miss the fireworks?”
“You’ll have to wait until the Fourth of July for fireworks,” Curt answered before he lifted his soda can to his mouth. Trent might bust his ass about it, but he’d never stick around and make the situation more difficult or awkward.
“What time do you expect her?” Trent asked.
“Not before five. Are you in a rush, or do you want to stick around? I was going to play the newest Delta Force Recon,” Curt said, referring to video game. A little company would pass the time and distract him from what he needed to do tonight.
“I haven’t played the latest version. Yeah, I’ll stay for an hour or so. I’ll be out of here before five, though. Don’t worry.”
***
Taylor stopped at the red light and pulled out her cell to check for any new text messages. Even though he said he’d be home all day, she sent Curt a text when she left Conway to let him know she was on her way home. So far, she hadn’t received any response from him. An unusual occurrence. He always got back to her. She tossed the cell back onto the passenger seat and accelerated when the light turned green.
She hadn’t gotten home from work this early in a long time. After conducting interviews in Conway, it hadn’t made much sense to drive back to Boston. Plus, she’d put in close to sixty hours the previous week. Her supervisor wouldn’t mind if she cut this day a little short. Getting home on the earlier side also meant she could stop and see Curt sooner. Today she was more eager than usual to see him.
Yesterday, when he’d asked her to come over, he’d sounded different, sort of like he needed to discuss something with her. She’d lain awake thinking about it, too. First, she’d wondered if he intended to tell her it was time to part ways. Time to start seeing other people. That notion got dismissed rather quickly. A guy ready to dump you didn’t invite you, your mom, and niece over for a cookout first. Unfortunately, with that idea off the table, she hadn’t come up with any specific ones.
I could’ve imagined his tone was different. She drove through the rotary near the police station. Maybe he’d invited her over so they could spend time together without interruptions. He’d done it before, and then later come to her house for dinner.
Taylor stopped behind perhaps the most gorgeous vehicle she’d ever seen. She knew next to nothing about cars. Sure, she could identify the common makes and models, but there was nothing common about the low-slung sports car parked in Curt’s driveway.
If he already had company, she should go home and come by later… but what she should do and what she planned to do were two different things. The investigator in her needed to know who owned the car parked outside Curt’s house.
She guessed the expensive-looking car could belong to an author friend. Some well-known authors had millions in their bank accounts, thanks to record-breaking sales and movie deals. Since Curt was an author himself, it wasn’t out of the question he knew some very well-known writers. The car could also belong to a client he’d met while working in the financial world. Heavy-hitting investors had more money than they knew what to do with.
Taylor slowed as she walked by the vehicle for a closer examination. Judging by the looks of it, the thing had to cost an easy six figures, if not more. While it was a gorgeous piece of machinery, she didn’t think she’d pay that much for any car… regardless of her bank account balance.
Enough ogling. Time for some answers.
Curt answered moments
after she rang the bell, his expression one of surprise and dread—a bad combination on anyone even him. Maybe his visitor was a woman. Did he have a girlfriend or wife he’d failed to tell her about?
“Taylor, you’re early.”
No hello? “I spent the morning up in Conway. It didn’t make sense to drive down to Boston.” She expected him to step back and invite her inside. When he didn’t, she continued. “I sent you a text when I left the area, letting you know I was on my way here.”
“Left my phone upstairs when I started work in the kitchen, and I never bothered to go up and get it.” Finally he stepped back and gestured for her to come inside. “C’mon in.”
“Are you still working?” She doubted it, but maybe the car’s owner knew a thing or two about remodeling homes and had come over to help. He had mentioned a friend named Ed who helped him out from time to time. Maybe Ed was a wealthy man with too much time on his hands.
After closing the door behind her, Curt gave her a brief hug and kiss. “No, I finished for the day. We were playing a video game.”
It didn’t escape her that he didn’t provide a name for his guest. “If you have company, I can come back later.” She tossed the ball into his court and waited.
Taking a step away from her, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stay. You can meet Trent.” He gestured down the hall with his chin. “He’s in the other room.”
At least now the car’s owner had a first name.
Since he didn’t plan on tackling work in the ballroom for a while, he’d set up his living room in there. She’d noticed the various video game consoles hooked up when they watched a movie.
“What were you working on up in Conway?” Curt walked alongside her, but kept his hands loose by his sides.
“Interviews. The agency is working with the state and local police in the area on a case. I’ll probably have to go back up sometime next week.”
Curt’s guest stood and put down the remote control he held when they walked into the room. Dressed in a pair of dark gray suit pants and a snow-white dress shirt with the top two buttons open, the guy looked like he was half ready for a business meeting. Considering who he was, she suspected he’d either just come from one or was on his way to one.
She’d seen Trent Sherbrooke on enough magazine covers and Internet sites over the years to recognize him anywhere. She’d always thought he was extremely handsome. However, seeing him in person, she knew the pictures hadn’t done him justice. Especially his eyes. He, like so many in his family, had the most incredible shade of blue eyes. Eyes she couldn’t tear her gaze away from at the moment. And not only because they were beautiful. No, she couldn’t look away because she’d seen those eyes countless times over the past several weeks. Only, all those times the eyes had belonged to a different man.
Curt spoke first, breaking the awkward silence. “Trent, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Taylor.”
He’d never used the term before, and after today she might not let him use it again.
“Taylor, this is my cousin. He was in the area and decided to stop in.”
Billionaire Trent Sherbrooke was his cousin. No wonder Mom thought Curt looked familiar. Their next-door neighbor was Curt Sherbrooke, President Sherbrooke’s nephew. The man had made more than one appearance on a magazine cover and Internet site himself.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. Curt’s told me a lot about you.” Trent extended his hand.
Taylor looked from Curt to Trent and back again. His eyes should’ve clued her in long before now. That was probably why he’d always worn glasses, except for when they’d been in bed. Glasses he wasn’t wearing now.
She shook Trent’s hand. “Wish I could say the same, but he’s never mentioned you. At least never by name.” She went over as many of their conversations as she could and one popped out. “No, that’s not true. He did tell me he had a cousin named Trent who worked for a big hotel chain.” Talk about understating the facts. There were big hotel chains and then there was Sherbrooke Enterprises, one of the largest hotel chains in the world.
Wow, he played me for a fool.
“Since you have company, I’ll go home. We can talk later.” Curt had a lot of explaining to do, but she didn’t need witnesses around when he did it. “It was nice meeting you, Trent. Curt, call me later.” Before either man responded she turned and walked away, eager to get away from both.
Although she left the room before them, she only managed to open the front door and step outside when Trent and Curt reached her.
“Please stay,” Curt said. He touched her forearm, but then pulled his hand away. “Trent is leaving.”
“He’s right. I’ve got a bit of a drive home.” Trent smiled warmly at her. “I’m glad I got a chance to meet you.” He fished his keys out of his pocket. “Sometime soon, you and my cousin need to join Addie, Kendrick, and me for dinner.”
She ignored his comment about joining his family for dinner. Depending on what explanation Curt gave her, she may never see him again, never mind his family. “It was nice meeting you, too. Have a safe drive home.”
An older model vehicle, its passenger side door painted a different color than the rest of it, slowly drove by, catching Taylor’s attention. She didn’t remember seeing the car around before.
“Tell Addie I said hello.”
She heard Curt speak as she watched the car speed up and disappear from view.
Trent stepped outside. “Will do. Call me later.”
The fancy car she’d admired a short while ago drove away, leaving her and Curt still standing on his front step.
“We need to talk,” Curt said.
“You’ve a knack for understatement.”
He touched her arm again, and slipped his fingers across her skin until he reached her hand. “Come back inside?” he asked as he gently squeezed her fingers. “Please.”
She considered saying no. Making him wait and suffer until she was ready to hear whatever he had to say. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the patience to wait. She wanted the whole story now, not a day from now.
Taylor stepped back inside and shook her hand free from his. She’d hear him out before she made a final judgment. However, for the moment he’d lost the right to touch her.
“How about we go in the other room? I think we’ll be more comfortable.” Curt closed the front door behind them then stuck his hands in his front jeans pockets.
With a simple nod, she walked back down the hallway. Curt didn’t have much furniture in the house. It was either sit in his living room, his bedroom, or his office. His office only had one chair, and no way in hell was she going to his bedroom today.
“I know you’ve got some questions, but can I explain first?” Curt remained standing while she took the seat his cousin had been in before. “Afterwards, you can ask anything you want, and I’ll answer you.”
“As long as I get some answers, I don’t care who goes first.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know my cousin would drop by. If I’d known you would be here so early—”
“You would’ve kicked him out sooner?” She’d agreed to hear him out first, but she couldn’t keep the comment inside.
“Yes, but not for the reason you’re thinking.” He paced in front of her. “When I asked you over it was because I wanted to explain things. But having you meet Trent like that wasn’t what I had in mind.”
Her instincts last night had told her Curt wanted to talk about something. Revealing his true identity hadn’t occurred to her as a possible discussion topic. Why would it? “Seeing him here was a little surprising.” She was picking up his habit of understating facts.
He stopped moving and faced her. “I imagine it—”
“Doesn’t matter now. Just tell me why you’ve been lying to me and my family since you moved in.” His opinion on the situation didn’t matter.
Curt let out a slow breath before he responded. “You’ve figured this out already, but my last nam
e is Sherbrooke. Trent’s one of my first cousins. He works for Sherbrooke Enterprises, my family’s company. The bachelor party I went to a few weeks ago was for my cousin, Gray, one of Trent’s brothers.”
“Fascinating.” Her annoyance grew with each passing moment. “But you didn’t answer me. Why did you tell us you were Curt Hilton?”
“When I bought this house, I intended to keep to myself. I hoped no one around here would recognize me, and people would leave me alone while I worked. When I brought the cat home and Priscilla invited me for dinner, I thought it’d be a one-time thing. That afterwards we’d see each other in passing, nothing more.”
“And then what happened? You decided to make up a story about being C.S. Hilton so you could come by for supper and get out of cooking your own meals?” She gripped both hands together in her lap instead of shaking him. Can’t the guy give me a straight answer? she wondered.
“No, I am an author. I wrote the book under a pen name. Hilton is my mother’s maiden name. You can probably guess why I don’t use my real name for my books.”
If a book came out with the name Sherbrooke on the front cover, it’d be a number-one best seller regardless of how well it was written. She could understand a person wanting his work judged on the quality of the writing and not by the author’s last name. “Yeah, I can understand that. But considering we’ve had sex, you could’ve told me the truth.”
He sat next to her, but his proximity only managed to fuel her frustration. Before he touched her, she stood and did some pacing of her own. “You should’ve told me. You’ve had plenty of opportunities before today, Curt. I wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“You’re right.”
“What?” Had he just agreed with her? Men didn’t admit when they were wrong.
“I said, you’re right.” He sounded remorseful when he repeated his answer. “I should’ve told you weeks ago and not waited until now. My only excuse is that I wasn’t sure I needed to. I figured if we only went out once or twice, you never needed to know. That I could go back to working on the house and my book. Then when I finished the renovations, I’d sell the house, move, and we’d never see each other again.”
The Billionaire Next Door (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 10) Page 12
