Loving the Billionaire

by Christina Tetreault

  Loving The Billionaire

  A Novella

  by Christina Tetreault

  Copyright 2015, Christina Tetreault

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at cgtetreault@yahoo.com. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For more information on the author and her works, please see www.christinatetreault.com.

  Formatting by Anessa Books

  Other Books By Christina Tetreault

  *The Teacher’s Billionaire

  *The Billionaire Playboy

  *The Billionaire Princess

  *The Billionaire’s Best Friend

  *Redeeming The Billionaire

  +The Courage To Love

  +Hometown Love

  * The Sherbrookes of Newport Series

  + Love on The North Shore Series

  Chapter 1

  February, 1978

  Glad to be someplace warm, Ruth closed the apartment door behind her.

  “I’m making hot chocolate, want some?” Helen, Ruth’s longtime friend and roommate, well roommate for another few days anyway, grabbed a mug from the cabinet and scooped some cocoa powder into it.

  “Sounds great.” Ruth pulled off her heavy winter jacket, sending snow to the floor. “It’s freezing outside.”

  “Tell me about it.” Helen pulled out another mug. “I saved The Star Report for you. If you don’t want it, just toss it.”

  Ruth grabbed the magazine off the counter. She didn’t read it often, but Helen was a diehard fan. She had been ever since the weekly publication started two years ago. “Thanks. After the day I had some fluff sounds great.”

  “Rough day for you, too?”

  “The ER was a mad house today.” In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time so many patients had not only been treated but also admitted. Some of them had come in with the usual aliments, but several had come in as a result of a multi-car accident on that staple of New England winters, black ice. With a little luck, the hospital would not see a repeat performance tomorrow.

  “I hope it stops snowing soon. Mom and I are working on the wedding favors tonight.” Helen remained at the stove, keeping an eye on the milk.

  “It’s just about done snowing now, and most of the roads are clear.” Ruth sat and kept Helen company. “Still can’t believe you and Will are getting married this weekend.” Not only couldn’t she believe it, but she had to admit she was a tiny bit jealous. She’d dated a fair amount in high school and college, but she’d never felt the same kind of love toward any of her boyfriends that Helen and Will shared.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Not that it mattered. Ruth glanced down at the cover of the popular magazine she held. Warren Sherbrooke smiled up at her. On cue, her heart gave a little lurch. Stupid organ. Ruth opened the magazine so she no longer had Warren’s face staring up at her.

  She’d known Warren since she was sixteen years old and could still remember the first time she met him. Warren and his younger brother Mark had pulled into the parking lot of her parents’ convenience store in his brand new Ferrari, a car she later learned Warren had received as a sixteenth birthday present. Warren and Mark had been on their way to Cliff House, the family’s Newport mansion, and had stopped in for soda, something Warren insisted his grandmother wouldn’t allow in her kitchen. The minute the two handsome young men walked in the store, all eyes had turned on them. Everyone in the country recognized the Sherbrookes. Heck, everyone in the world recognized the Sherbrookes. Not only was the entire family gorgeous, but they were also the wealthiest family in America.

  She’d watched Warren and Mark that afternoon too, but not for the same reason the other teenage girls did. While those girls had stared and batted their eyelashes at them hoping to be noticed, she’d watched and waited for them to pull out the superiority card—something most of the wealthy socialites who lived and visited Newport did. When Warren and his brother played that card, she planned to put them both in their place.

  Ruth didn’t get the opportunity that afternoon or any afternoon for that matter. Both Warren and his brother were polite and unassuming. They paid for their sodas and left.

  Throughout the months of May and June, Warren came in several more times. Each time he acted like any other customer. Sometimes when he stopped in he’d strike up a conversation with her, but otherwise he kept to himself.

  One July night that all changed.

  Her parents had caved and let her start dating that spring. The first boy to ask her out had been Blake Monroe. A year older than her, they shared many of the same friends. By June they were a steady couple spending all their free time together. On numerous occasions, she and Blake parked out in the parking lot of Easton’s Beach and made out until the windows fogged up. Once or twice Blake tried to push things further, but she always stopped him. While many of her friends were having sex, she’d decided to wait until she was in love. And while she liked Blake and had fun with him, she wasn’t sure she loved him.

  That July evening had started out like any other. They’d gone to the drive-in and then Blake drove them to Easton’s Beach. Unlike in the past, he got angry that night when she refused to have sex. He accused her of being a tease and ripped her blouse open. Scared she’d jumped out of the car prepared to walk home. Blake followed her and tried to drag her back into the car.

  Then, just like that, her knight in shining armor, or in this case, her knight in a shiny Ferrari, spotted them and pulled into the parking lot. When Blake told Warren to mind his own business, Warren turned and asked her if everything was okay. All she’d been able to do was shake her head no. Without a word to her, Warren took her by the hand and pulled her behind him then faced Blake. Enraged, Blake took a swing at Warren. Ruth guessed Blake expected Warren to go down after just one punch. Instead Blake found himself sprawled on the pavement, blood trickling from his nose. From that night on, she and Warren had been friends. Whenever he came to Newport they spent time together. When he was away at boarding school in Connecticut, they exchanged letters. Their friendship continued on like that for years.

  Helen placed two mugs of hot chocolate and a bag of mini marshmallows on the table. “Have you changed your mind about Joanna’s Valentine’s Day party?”

  No, she hadn’t. Except for perhaps death, she couldn’t think of anything worse than attending a Valentine’s Day party alone. Talk about pathetic with a capital P. “Nope.” Ruth added some mini marshmallows to her hot chocolate and thumbed through the magazine.

  “You could go with Mitch.” Helen dropped marshmallows in her mug.

  They’d had this particular discussion on numerous occasions, and Ruth’s answer was always the same. However, Helen couldn’t or wouldn’t accept it, she wanted her best friend married to her fiancé’s twin brother, so they would all be one big happy family. And while Mitch was a nice guy, Ruth suspected his heart’s desire swung in the opposite direction. She assumed it was just a matter of time before Mitch admitted to his family that he’d rather be in a relationship with a man.

  “Or you could call and ask him.” Helen flipped the magazine cover back into place and pointed at Warren. “He came to the New Year’s Eve party alone. Maybe he’s still single.”

  Ruth had invited him to their New Year’s Eve party last m
onth, expecting he’d decline. Every year since 1900, his family threw a huge New Year’s Eve bash at Cliff House. Everyone from heads of state to Hollywood celebrities attended the party. With that type of event going on, she doubted he’d want to hang out with her and her friends, but she invited him anyway. Much to her astonishment, Warren showed up at their apartment around ten o’clock that night, a few bottles of champagne in hand.

  “Why would I do that?” Ruth took a gulp of her hot chocolate and wished she hadn’t when the hot liquid burned her tongue.

  She’d never told Helen about the morning last summer when something shifted inside her. Or maybe it had been a long time coming, she wasn’t sure. She did know the morning she found Warren on Gooseberry Beach alone with tears in his eyes changed everything for her.

  Even now she could recall that morning months ago. She’d worked second shift at the hospital. Wired up after a rough night in the emergency room, she’d gone for a walk on the beach, hoping it would calm her enough to fall asleep. The last thing she expected to find was Warren sitting there staring out at the ocean—not just because it was early morning, but the previous week he’d headed back to Harvard where he was working on his master’s degree. When she approached him and he looked up at her, she’d seen the tears in his beautiful sapphire blue eyes.

  For well over two hours they sat together. She held his hand and listened as he talked about his grandmother who’d had a heart attack the night before. In true Sherbrooke form, the entire clan had descended on Newport to offer each other support and await news. Suffocating from all the family togetherness, he’d left Cliff House around midnight and had sat alone on the beach until she’d found him.

  As they sat side by side, their hands clasped together, he’d revealed just how much his grandmother meant to him. That’s when her brain and heart had realized something. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with Warren.

  After that morning, she hadn’t seen him again for weeks, but he’d stayed in her thoughts. The next time she’d seen Warren, at the Annual Harvest Fair, he’d had a beautiful brunette from a wealthy Texas family on his arm.

  Helen rolled her eyes. “I saw the hearts in your eyes every time you looked at him on New Year’s Eve. You’ve got it bad for him, my friend.” Helen took a sip from her mug before she continued. “You have his phone number right? Call him and ask him out.”

  It was at times like this Ruth couldn’t wait for Helen to move out. “I can’t do that.”

  “Ruth, this is the 70’s not the 30’s. Women ask guys out all the time. It’s no big deal. Cindy asked Ed out last month.” Cindy Harris was another friend from high school.

  If they spoke about any other guy, Ruth would agree and not hesitate. She wasn’t her mother. A modern 20th century woman, she had gone to college. She had a career and her own apartment. That didn’t mean she was about to ask Warren Sherbrooke out to a party.

  “Helen, you know why I can’t ask him out.” They’d had a similar discussion last month. Since Helen had not mentioned it again, Ruth had hoped she’d let it go. She should have known better.

  “You’ve been friends for years. You can’t think the fact he’s rich and you’re not bothers him?” Helen paused and cocked her eyebrow. “And he left his family’s party to come here to see you last month. He didn’t have to do that.”

  Ruth shook her head. No matter what Helen said, she would not change her mind. She’d rather see him walk down the aisle with some snobby socialite than do something that would jeopardize their friendship. She valued it that much.

  “I’m not going to do it, Helen. Let it go.”

  “Ruth Taylor you are a chicken, my friend.” Helen stood and picked up her own hot chocolate. “But I still love you. I need to get ready to go. See you when I get home.”

  “Have fun and say hi to your mom for me.”

  Ruth’s eyes drifted back to Warren’s picture. She wasn’t a chicken, just practical. A man like Warren Sherbrooke might be friends with an average Jane like her, but that didn’t mean he’d date her.

  Helen’s right, he came to the party. She could imagine the shindig the Sherbrookes threw every year. Yet, he left it to hang out with her and her friends. He was probably bored with his usual crowd. “What if that wasn’t it?” she asked the marshmallows in her mug. Should I ask him to the party? It would be easy to do. She had the phone number to his Cambridge apartment.

  You risk ruining your friendship if you do. Did she want to take that risk? Nope . Ruth turned the magazine upside down and pushed it away. Tonight she’d read the newspaper instead.

  ***

  Warren double-checked his suitcase late Wednesday night. He’d packed enough to be gone for five days. He’d love to spend more time down in Newport, but he couldn’t at this point in the semester.

  “Where are you off to?” Mark, his younger brother, walked into his bedroom without knocking first, not that that was anything new. Even before they moved into the two-bedroom apartment in Cambridge, he’d done it all the time.

  “Heading to Newport in the morning. You and Donna have the place to yourself until Tuesday.”

  “Excellent.” Mark smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I knew I was your favorite brother.” Mark and Donna Belmont, the daughter of Senator Belmont, a close family friend, had been a couple since Mark’s freshman year at Harvard. “Why are you going down there?”

  It was a fair question. For the most part, Cliff House remained closed up from January until late April. Instead family members vacationed in the multiple homes they owned in warmer parts of the country like Florida and California. “Just need to get out of the city.” He had no intentions of sharing his plans with his brother.

  “And rather than soak up some sun in Malibu, you decided to freeze your ass off in Newport. Aren’t you supposed to be the genius of the family?”

  One year younger than him, Mark knew how to push his buttons like no one else. “Ever think I don’t feel like flying?”

  Mark shrugged and walked back toward the door. “It’s your ass. If you change your mind and come back before Tuesday, do me a favor and get a hotel room. Sunday is Valentine’s Day.”

  If all went as he hoped, he’d be spending Valentine’s Day with someone special himself. “You two should get married already.” Donna spent so much time there it was as if she lived there too.

  “Already bought the ring. I’ll ask her after I graduate in June.”

  The announcement brought Warren to a standstill. He assumed the two lovebirds would get married, but he’d not expected that answer today. “That’s going to be a rather long engagement.” While Mark graduated that June, he still had three years of law school ahead of him. Not to mention Donna had another year at Radcliffe.

  “That’s not my plan.” Mark took a step into the hallway.

  He should mind his own business. When his brother proposed was none of his business, but he couldn’t. Perhaps it was because he was the eldest, or maybe it was just because out of all his siblings he was closest to Mark. That wasn’t to say he didn’t love his sister Marilyn and youngest brother Jonathon. He’d do anything for either of them. But Mark was more than just his brother. He was his best friend, too. “Just what is your plan, little brother?”

  Mark leaned against the doorjamb. “We’ll get married next June right after Donna graduates. Between Donna’s mother and ours, they should be able to get a wedding planned in a year.”

  Warren had no doubt their mother, Theresa Sherbrooke, a former Hollywood movie star, and Emma Belmont could put together the wedding of the year with a simple flick of the wrist. “You’re going to get married before you finish law school? Have you run that one by Dad yet?”

  George Sherbrooke might be a devoted husband and loving father, but he expected things to be done a certain way. Warren suspected their father wouldn’t take the news well that his son planned to marry before he finished his law degree. He could already hear his father’s words as he lectured Mar
k on how a wife would be a distraction.

  Mark nodded once again, catching Warren off guard.

  “It took awhile, and I had to make some ... shall we say concessions, but I got the green light.”

  “Concessions? Do I want to know?”

  “I managed to convince Dad that if we got married, Donna wouldn’t be any more of a distraction than she is now, but I had to agree that we wouldn’t have children until after I passed the bar in Rhode Island and Massachusetts.” Mark shrugged. “Since I am in no rush to add to the Sherbrooke clan, that doesn’t bother me.”

  Yeah, but what about Donna? She may have a thing or two to say about that one. But since it wasn’t his problem, Warren kept his mouth shut.

  “As much as I’ve enjoyed this little heart to heart, I promised to pick Donna up in thirty minutes. Have fun in Newport.”

  That was the plan, although with so many unknown variables, he couldn’t guarantee it. He disliked the unknown. That was just one of the many reasons he loved numbers, despite the fact that his teachers at Choate Rosemary Hall had encouraged him to study psychology rather than economics and finance as he intended.

  From the moment he’d been able to walk, or at least it seemed that way, his father had groomed him to take over Sherbrooke Enterprises, one of the largest hotel chains in the world, and then enter politics like his grandfather, current Senator George Sherbrooke Senior had done. While many of his friends and even his brother Mark would have rebelled at the path set out for him, Warren embraced it. In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps.

  “See you on Tuesday. Don’t have too much fun this weekend.”

  The smile on his brother’s face grew, and he winked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Chapter 2

  When Trevor, the butler who lived on the grounds of Cliff House year round, walked in the kitchen and saw Warren, his eyes got large—the most expression Warren had ever seen on the guy’s face, a remarkable feat considering Trevor had worked at Cliff House for ten years. Despite his obvious surprise, Trevor did not question Warren’s sudden appearance. Instead the butler promised to inform his wife Marsha, who worked as head housekeeper, that Warren was in residence.