The Billionaire’s Homecoming
The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 11
Christina Tetreault
Table of Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Other Books By Christina Tetreault
The Billionaire’s Homecoming, Copyright 2018 by Christina Tetreault
Published by Christina Tetreault
Photographer: CJC Photography
Cover Model: Mike Ryan
Cover Designer: Amanda Walker
Editing: Hot Tree Editing
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 [email protected]. 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
ISBN: 978-0-9994907-6-1
Chapter One
“Mission control to space shuttle Jen, do you read me? I repeat, do you read me?”
Jennifer Wallace blinked and looked up at her sister, Kristen. “Sorry. Did you ask me something?”
Kristen nodded and held up a tomato. “I’ve asked you three times if you want tomatoes on your sandwich. Where were you?”
“Thinking. And no thanks, I’ll skip the tomatoes today.” She should’ve stayed home this afternoon, but she’d thought a change of scenery and some company would keep her thoughts off her upcoming meeting.
At the counter, Kristen put the finishing touches on their lunches and then called in Bella, Jen’s niece, and her friend who was over for the afternoon. “Why don’t you girls eat these on the deck,” Kristen said, handing each girl a paper plate. “If you’re still hungry later, we have ice cream in the freezer and peanut butter cookies.”
Neither girl argued, and they quickly disappeared back outside.
“Do you want to talk about whatever has you so distracted? Maybe I can help.” Kristen set down their sandwiches and an unopened bag of barbecue-flavored potato chips, their favorite flavor.
There was no way Kristen or anyone else could help, but maybe talking about it would get it out of her head for a bit. “Do you remember me telling you about Brett, the man I’ve been exchanging letters and texts with for the past year and a half?”
“Actually, it’s been almost two years. We sent the first care boxes to Keith’s unit at the start of our second year as Girl Scout leaders. This September will be our fourth year,” Kristen said, referring to their older brother.
Jen ground her back molars together. She loved her sister, but the woman didn’t understand the concept of approximation. Even in school she’d never been able to estimate the answer to a math problem. Nope, she had to get the exact answer. Jen, as well as perhaps everyone in the family, found it Kristen’s most annoying characteristic. Often they teased her about it when it reared its ugly head—like now. This afternoon, Jen ignored it. Sometimes it was easier.
“But to answer your question, yes, I remember. You’ve talked so much about him I feel like I know him,” Kristen said.
“I’m supposed to finally meet him this week after work.”
Kristen tore open the chips and added a handful to her plate before passing the bag to Jen. “In a public place I hope.”
Although really her adopted sister and only six months older, Kristen had always played the role of the protective big sister. “Yes, of course. We’re meeting at Ambrosia.”
“Awesome. What’s the problem then? You’re already half in love with the man. I’d think you’d be excited about finally meeting him face-to-face.”
Unfortunately, her sister’s assessment wasn’t far from the truth. She’d never admit Kristen was right though. Kristen’s belief that she was always correct no matter the topic was her sister’s second-biggest flaw.
“Well, let’s see,” Jen said. “To start with, I’m about to sit down and have coffee with Brett Sherbrooke. You may have heard of his family. They own this small, insignificant hotel chain, but if you haven’t, I’m sure you’ve heard of his uncle, President Sherbrooke. You know, the man who lives in the big white house on Pennsylvania Avenue and travels in Air Force One.”
Her sister’s mouth opened and closed several times. She’d had a similar reaction when she finally found out just whom she’d been corresponding with for months too.
“Wait, a minute. Back up.” Kristen pointed a potato chip at her. “You never told me any of this before. Does Keith know?”
Since Brett and their brother had served together, Jen guessed he knew, although Keith had never mentioned it to her. “Probably, but I never asked him. I’m not even sure Keith knows Brett and I have been communicating all this time. I never told him. Did you?”
Kristen shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me before now? I mean it’s not like you never talk about the man.”
“At first I only knew his first name. Later, I thought it was just a coincidence his name was Brett Sherbrooke. A lot of people have the same name. I knew a guy at Northeastern named Anderson Brady, and he wasn’t the actor.”
“Fair enough. But you must have learned the truth long before this month. You’ve been writing to him for almost two years!”
Jen toyed with the napkin near her plate and nodded. “Yeah, but when I figured it out, he was halfway across the world in some place I can’t even pronounce. It didn’t seem like a big deal.”
“How did you figure it out anyway? Did he actually tell you in an e-mail or something?”
She remembered very well the moment she put it together. “Not exactly. Last year he mentioned how disappointed he was that he wasn’t going to make it to Providence for his cousin Trent’s wedding.”
Jen could accept there was more than one man in the world with the name Brett Sherbrooke. She couldn’t accept there was more than one who also had a cousin named Trent living in Providence who was getting married.
“I see how you would’ve reached that conclusion. I would’ve too, but did you ever actually ask him? It might be a stretch, but he still might not be part of that Sherbrooke family.”
“Oh, trust me he is. We exchanged pictures sometime last year, and I compared it to a picture I found on the internet taken at a fund-raiser a few years ago. In it he’s standing with Jake and Trent Sherbrooke.”
Kristen tapped her fingers on the table but didn’t respond right away. While Jen waited for her sister’s next question, and she knew there would be more, she started on her lunch.
Her sister’s fingers stopped moving. “I’d be a little nervous too, but I don’t see what the big deal is. You’ve never met in person, but it’s not like you don’t know the guy. The two of you have exchanged enough letters, e-mails, and texts to wallpaper my entire house. And you already know what he looks like, so you don’t have to worry about finding some eighty-year-old man with warts
waiting for you. I say relax, enjoy the afternoon, and see where things go.”
Ah yes, they’d exchanged pictures, and there was the other problem that had been plaguing her thoughts ever since Brett said he was moving back to New England and would love to finally meet.
“Well, the whole picture thing is kind of part of the problem.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but I will anyway,” Kristen said.
Of course she would because this was her sister. And Kristen never held anything back. It was actually one of the things she loved about her. Kristen was always upfront and honest.
“Did you send him a picture of someone else?”
She’d briefly considered it, because at the time she hadn’t expected to ever meet him. Kristen didn’t need to know that small detail. “Of course not.”
“Then what? Did you have one of those boudoir photo shoots done and then send him some sexy pictures?”
Really, Kristen knew her better than that, but evidently she wanted to give her a hard time this afternoon. “Get real. That’s something you’d do and then give to Dan as a present.”
“Did he tell you?” Her sister’s face took on a slight pink hue.
“Your husband didn’t tell me anything. But your face is right now. Did you really have one of those done?” For the moment their discussion of her upcoming meeting could take a back burner. This was way too good to pass up
The pink spread from Kristen’s cheeks to her hairline, and she looked away. “I wanted to get him something different for his birthday. I’d read about them being the thing right now and figured what the heck. He’s the only one who’ll ever see them.” She cleared her throat and met Jen’s eyes again. “But let’s get back to your story. It’s more interesting.”
She’d love to tease Kristen about the photo gift, but if she did, her sister would find some way to repay the favor later. “I sent Brett my favorite picture from Mom and Dad’s fortieth anniversary party. You know, the one I had framed of you, me, and Keith together.”
“It’s a great picture of you. I don’t see the problem.”
“That’s the problem right there. It’s too good. It’s not the real me. Before the party, we both went to the salon and had someone do our hair and makeup. Before he printed the picture, the photographer removed any blemishes. I never look the way I do in that photo.” It was one of the reasons she’d had it framed in the first place.
Kristen waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “Jennifer, you’re being absolutely ridiculous. You never wear your hair the way you did to the party, but otherwise you don’t look any different in the picture than you normally do.”
She had a mirror at home, and the reflection greeting her every morning did not resemble the person in the picture she’d sent Brett. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do about it now. So the way she saw it, she had two options: either meet Brett this week at Ambrosia, or cancel altogether. But canceling their meeting would probably also mean she’d have to stop corresponding with him—something she didn’t want to do.
“I’m still not sure I should go.”
“Come on, be serious. What’s the worst thing that could happen? You talk and then you go home alone and never hear from him again. Truthfully, I don’t see that happening. Not after all this time.”
She couldn’t argue with Kristen’s logic. Her life wouldn’t end if their meeting didn’t go well. She’d be disappointed though, because like her sister said, she was already half in love with the man.
“And if it does happen, well, his loss, not yours. Besides, who knows, you might spend five minutes with the man and decide he’s the biggest jerk who ever lived.” Kristen touched her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Jen, go. Drink some coffee, talk, and see what happens.”
Just because they’d never met face-to-face didn’t mean she didn’t know Brett well enough to know he wasn’t a jerk.
“What’s it going to be, sis? Finally meet the potential love of your life, or help me take Bella and her friends to their first concert. It’s not sold out; I can still get you a ticket. I’ll even order it before you leave today.”
She loved her niece, but she had no desire to take Bella and her friends to their first concert. “Tough one. I can either have coffee with a gorgeous man or help supervise a group of nine- and ten-year-old girls.” Jen pretended to weigh both options with her hands. “Thanks for the offer, sis, but this time I’ll go the gorgeous man route.”
***
Brett followed the GPS directions and took a left. Sprawling estates lined both sides of the street. He’d visited his cousin Callie’s home in Connecticut only once despite numerous invites in the past. He hadn’t planned on visiting today, but a stop there now would help break up his ride from Virginia to Massachusetts—a trip he’d started over eleven hours ago. And assuming he didn’t hit any more traffic, he still had another three and a half hours to look forward to. Delays through Maryland and New Jersey had already tacked on several extra hours in the car, and he didn’t know how much more he could handle. A short visit at his cousin’s house would give him a chance to relax, stretch his legs, and hopefully avoid any weekend backups on the Mass Turnpike.
“You have arrived. Your destination is on the right,” the GPS informed him.
After turning, he approached the security gate and pressed the intercom.
“Can I help you?” a male voice asked
“I’m here to see Callie and Dylan,” Brett answered.
“Name, please.”
“Brett.”
“I’m sorry, there is no Brett on the guest list. I’ll have to check with the Talbots.”
Guest list? Damn, were Callie and Dylan having a party? “I’m her cousin,” he added, not that he expected the individual to open the gate without speaking to either his cousin or her husband first.
“One moment please.”
The intercom went silent, and Brett considered calling Callie rather than wait for whoever had answered to find her in the house. Before he got the chance, the gates opened. He didn’t wait for any further invitation.
He drove down the long, winding driveway. When he reached the house, he found several other cars already parked there. The only one he recognized was his brother’s car. All the others had out-of-state plates though, and since two were from Rhode Island, two were from Virginia, and another from New York, he assumed several of his family members were visiting. With so many relatives here, Brett had a feeling he’d be there longer than he’d originally planned.
Before he had a chance to ring the doorbell, the front door opened and a petite woman stepped toward him.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Callie hugged him before he could manage a simple hello. “Everyone’s going to be so surprised when they see you.”
Brett hugged her back. “Having a party?”
“Don’t worry, it’s only family.” She closed the door behind him as she spoke. “Well, Lauren and her husband, Nate, are here too, but they’re like family.”
He’d never met Callie’s best friend, but he’d heard her talk about Lauren and her husband. Callie listed the other family members there as she led him through the house.
“Look who’s here,” she said, stepping outside before him.
All conversations stopped, and every head turned his way. Even the toddlers playing seemed to pause and look at him. Just as suddenly everyone started talking at once.
“Did you finally decide to go AWOL?” his brother, Curt, asked, coming over and giving him a hug and slap on the back.
“Nah, the Army decided they’d had enough of him and kicked him to the curb,” Trent, one of his many cousins present, said, giving him a hug as well.
Brett accepted the lemonade Callie handed him and took a sip before answering. “Thought I’d stop and visit on my way home. If I’d known you two were here, I would’ve kept on going.”
His younger brother shrugged and rejoined the woman he’d been sitting with. She’d been with
Curt at Kiera and Gray’s wedding in June too, although he hadn’t spoken much to her. He hadn’t had a chance. Before the ceremony even started, they’d left because she had an emergency at home. He hadn’t spoken with his brother since then, so he didn’t know what the emergency had been or how it had turned out.
“In case you don’t remember him, Taylor, this grouch is my brother, Brett,” Curt said to the woman next to him.
Ignoring his brother’s comment, he approached Curt’s girlfriend. “It’s nice to see you again.” Brett smiled and held out his hand.
Shaking his hand, Taylor smiled back. “Likewise.”
“So where have you been?” Callie asked.
He watched the toddlers who were playing with a young girl he didn’t recognize. He hadn’t seen any of his cousins’ children in several months, but it was easy to pick out James, Callie and Dylan’s son. He had dark brown hair like Callie and Dylan, and blue-gray eyes. Figuring out which child belonged to Trent and which belonged to Jake was another story. Both had the trademark Sherbrooke blue eyes, a trait his brother possessed as well, and dirty-blond hair. It didn’t help that Kendrick, Trent’s son, and Garrett, Jake’s son, were only three months apart in age.
“Nowhere,” he answered. For the moment, he gave up trying to figure out which boy belonged to which cousin and turned his attention to the young girl. She looked to be about seven or so. Since he knew she didn’t belong to any of his cousins, she had to be related to either Callie’s friend Lauren or Curt’s girlfriend. Curt hadn’t mentioned his girlfriend had any children, but the girl didn’t resemble Lauren or husband in the least either.
“Two seconds ago you said you were on your way back to Virginia,” Trent said.
“He’s experiencing memory problems. It happens a lot to old people,” Curt said.
If not for the children present, he’d tell his brother just where he could shove his comment.
“He’s not old, Curt,” the unknown girl said, looking back at his brother before he could come up with a suitable non-explicit response to Curt’s insult.
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