The Billionaire's Homecoming

by Christina Tetreault

“Brett, don’t worry. We’ll keep Jen company while you’re away,” Mom said, reading his mind.

  He’d rather do it himself, but what he wanted wasn’t important tonight. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Brett didn’t care if there were people around them. He kissed Jen’s cheek before leaving her in his mom’s capable hands.

  ***

  Samuel Castle was here. She wasn’t much of a football fan, but she’d heard of the man. Jen looked around the ballroom to see if she recognized any of the other society bigwigs. Immediately she spotted actor Anderson Brady, perhaps her only celebrity crush, standing alongside an older gentleman and an impeccably dressed woman. She smiled as she remembered her conversation with Brett about how she hadn’t realized who he was when she first learned his last name and how she’d gone to graduate school with a man named Anderson Brady.

  “Brett looks worn out. He’s trying to do too much.” Mrs. Sherbrooke’s voice was barely audible over the hum of the other conversations. “Right now he needs to concentrate on the campaign and forget about his position with Homeland Security.”

  “Carl and I have both told him the same thing,” Mr. Sherbrooke said. “Like with everything else, he’s determined to do things his way.”

  The man’s voice was so low she almost didn’t hear it.

  “Perhaps if you spoke to him, Jen. Maybe then he’d listen,” Mrs. Sherbrooke said, including her in a conversation she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of.

  “I have, more than once, Mrs. Sherbrooke. And I think he might be coming around,” she said.

  He’d told her earlier this afternoon he planned to take a leave of absence from Homeland Security. However, she didn’t think it was her place to share his intentions, no matter how much relief it would bring to his mom.

  “His father and I would greatly appreciate any extra encouragement you can give him in that direction.” She touched Jen’s hand before she continued. “And call me Judith. Mrs. Sherbrooke is too impersonal, considering how important you are to my son.”

  And just how should she respond to such a comment? “He’s important to me too.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. She’d fallen half in love with him while exchanging letters. Since their first face-to-face meeting, she’d fallen the rest of the way. She couldn’t admit the truth to his mother, especially when she hadn’t told Brett yet.

  “I assumed as much.” The smile Judith gave her made Jen think the woman already knew the true extent of her feelings. “And I’m glad.”

  A warm hand settled on her shoulder. A moment later, Brett pulled out the chair next to her and sat. “Hope I’m not disturbing whatever private convo you two are having,” Brett said as he put a hand over hers on the table.

  “We were discussing how we all believe you’re pushing yourself too hard,” his mom said.

  Brett squeezed Jen’s hand. “No need to worry, Mom. I’m going to concentrate on only my campaign for now.” He leaned into Jen’s side. “And you,” he whispered before moving away again. “I already let Carl know. Monday I’ll talk to Homeland.”

  “Wise decision,” Mr. Sherbrooke said.

  An excited vibe spread through the room as the buzz of hushed conversations intensified. Jen turned to get a better look at the entranceway, hoping for a glance at whatever celebrity had caught everyone’s attention this time. Only it wasn’t a celebrity, at least not a Hollywood one standing there.

  “Did you know your aunt Elizabeth was coming?” Mr. Sherbrooke asked.

  “Last I talked to her, she wasn’t sure,” Brett answered.

  Jen watched the woman under discussion cross the room, and the fact the First Lady of the United States was Brett’s aunt hit her over the head like a baseball bat. Of course she’d known of the relationship for some time, but it had been an easy detail to overlook. With the woman coming toward them, she could no longer ignore the truth. The man she’d fallen in love with really did live in a world far removed from hers. Since he never acted as if he considered himself better than everyone else, she sometimes forgot that, but tonight the evidence was all around her. And for the first time since they kissed, she worried what it meant for their relationship.

  On cue, both Brett and his dad stood when Elizabeth Sherbrooke reached their table. Jen guessed standing when a woman such as the First Lady approached a table was included on Jonathan Sherbrooke’s list of things every gentleman must do. Brett still hadn’t shared the list with her. Then again, maybe it pertained to all women. Brett had done the same thing when she’d walked in her living room the first time he’d visited her home. Thankfully, he hadn’t done it since. It’d be way too bizarre and annoying for him to stand every time she walked in the room or approached a table.

  “Aunt Elizabeth.” Brett hugged the First Lady and then pulled a chair out for her. “I’m glad you made it tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” the woman replied, her British accent still present despite the number of years she’d lived in the United States. “Warren wanted to attend, but it wasn’t possible. He sends his regards.”

  Warren. Jen wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to hearing people address President Sherbrooke so casually.

  “Jen, this is my aunt Elizabeth,” Brett said as he took his seat and once again slipped his hand over hers.

  Brett’s aunt turned her gray eyes Jen’s way. For a moment or two, the woman studied her as if trying to peer into Jen’s thoughts. Perhaps happy with whatever she’d determined, a whisper of a smile formed. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Finally meet her? Did that mean Brett’s other family members had spoken to the First Lady about her, or had she read one of the many articles published along with the photos of her and Brett kissing? Jen wasn’t sure which would be worse.

  “I look forward to getting to know you better this evening,” Elizabeth Sherbrooke continued. “My son, Jake, said you are quite adept at keeping my nephew on his toes.” A twinkle formed in the woman’s eyes. “Between us, I believe it’s exactly what Brett needs. Don’t you agree, Judith?”

  “Fully,” Brett’s mom answered.

  Reading between the lines and making assumptions could be a risky venture. However, in Jen’s head the women’s comments were their way of saying they approved of her and Brett’s relationship despite their different social backgrounds.

  “I promise to do my best to keep him there,” Jen said. Her statement earned her nods from both Sherbrooke women.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Phillip finished reading the documents in the file and closed it. “About damn time.”

  Ted had given him two weeks to uncover anything regarding Jennifer Wallace they could use against golden boy Brett Sherbrooke. He’d had his team working round the clock digging through everything they could get their hands on. Not a single person had found anything useful. Out of time, he’d been about to concede defeat and develop a new angle.

  This morning, though, one of his associates delivered the file now on his desk. The information contained in it might be just the thing they needed to give Ted an edge. First, he needed to determine how to handle what he’d learned. Normally he’d outline a few ideas before deciding on the best one and putting it into action. This afternoon he didn’t have the time that required. Ted was due any moment for another brief private meeting. Not long afterward, the rest of Ted’s campaign team would arrive for a strategy session.

  The office door opened without so much as a knock first, and Ted strolled in as if he owned the room. “Have you seen the latest polls?” Ted demanded, his voice vibrating with anger. “I was told you were one of the best.” He dropped a stack of papers on the desk. “These numbers say otherwise.”

  Of course he’d seen the polls. Rather than the gap between Brett and Ted shrinking, it had grown larger over the past week. Phillip understood his employer’s frustration, but the man only had himself to blame. If Ted had done a better job keeping his private life private, h
e wouldn’t have such a sordid reputation working against him.

  “I saw them. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time to change voters’ opinions.”

  Ted ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t share your assessment, Phillip. The vote is less than two months away.”

  To say they had less than two months was misleading. Technically they had six weeks and a few days until the primary, but considering Ted’s mood this afternoon, Phillip wasn’t going to split hairs with the man.

  Without an invitation, Ted crossed to the wet bar and poured himself a generous portion of scotch. In one shot, he downed half the tumbler before refilling it and coming back toward the desk. “You’ve had your two weeks,” he said as he sat down.

  Again the man was technically incorrect. His two weeks had been up four days ago. If Ted didn’t realize it, Phillip sure as hell wasn’t going to remind him.

  “Time to earn the money I’m paying you and come up with a new strategy, because you’ve obviously failed to find anything on Sherbrooke’s girlfriend.”

  Phillip ground his teeth together and waited until he knew he wouldn’t say something he’d later regret. “Actually, we might have found something. My associate delivered this earlier.” He pushed the folder across the desk so Ted could read the contents and reach his own conclusion.

  Ted flipped to the top page and started reading. “Interesting.” He turned to the next page and kept going. He didn’t comment again until he finished reviewing all the documents enclosed. Closing the folder, Ted pushed it back across the desk. “You plan on using this, right?”

  As soon as I verify the information and figured out the best way handle it, I will. Considering Ted’s current mood, Phillip wisely kept the thought to himself. “Definitely, but we’ll need to time it perfectly. For now let’s keep this information away from the press.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brett tossed his suit in a bag for the dry cleaner and left his bedroom in search of a snack. A full meal would have to wait until Jen arrived, but if he didn’t grab something in the meantime, his insides were going to digest themselves. He’d had groceries delivered this week, so he had no shortage of options tonight. Having a fully stocked kitchen also meant he and Jen could stay locked inside all weekend and not venture out to any restaurants. The last few times they’d dined out, he’d felt as if they sat in a giant fishbowl. People had no qualms about watching them. They didn’t have any problem approaching him when they were out either. If he was alone or with Carl, he didn’t mind the unexpected interruptions. It was all part of being a public figure. When he was with Jen it was different. They had a limited amount of time together. He didn’t want to waste it talking to businessmen or other politicians. When it happened, Jen brushed off his apologies and insisted it wasn’t a big deal. He appreciated her constant understanding, but knew it might not last forever.

  After he grabbed a beer, he raided what had turned into his snack cabinet. He’d loaded it with all his favorite junk food as well as Jen’s so she’d have it when she came over. He’d even added several boxes of dog treats to the kitchen closet for Bo, who was another regular visitor. In fact, Bo even had his own dog bed in the living room now.

  Tonight he pulled out the roasted almonds and tossed back a handful before he even closed the cabinet door. Brett washed them down before carrying both the beer and nuts back to the living room. While he waited for both his furniture delivery and Jen, he’d catch the baseball scores from today’s earlier games. He had no idea how long he’d be waiting. Jen hadn’t been able to tell him exactly when she’d get here. She and Kristen had taken their scout troop on a nature hike this morning as part of their animal habitats badge, whatever that was. She’d promised to come over as soon as they finished. The furniture company had given him a delivery window of between four and seven. So it was likely he’d have time to catch part of the Boston-Baltimore game slated to start at five.

  Brett switched on the sports channel. Instead of the popular commenters being on the screen, an ad for Ted Smith greeted him. He ignored it and ate another handful of nuts while a faceless voice droned on about Smith’s political expertise and stressed how tirelessly he’d worked during his time as lieutenant governor. The ad ended by asking voters what they wanted in Washington, someone with tested political experience or a novice. The question caught his attention.

  Novice, my ass. He’d never held an office but his dad and his uncles had. He knew what went on both in the Senate and behind closed doors in Washington.

  The doorbell stopped him from taking another swig of beer. As much as he wanted to see Jen, he hoped it was the men with his new furniture outside and not her. He hadn’t told her he’d ordered the stuff she’d deemed necessary weeks ago, and he wanted to see the surprise on her face when she saw it.

  Neither Jen nor his new furniture waited on the porch. “Leah.” They hadn’t spoken since the fund-raiser in Boston, which wasn’t unusual. He’d never been much for lengthy phone convos. “Come on in.” He gave her a hug after she walked in and then closed the door. “What are you doing out this way?” For the past several years, Leah had called Connecticut home and, like his cousin Scott, worked in New York City.

  “Tory is flying in for a friend’s wedding this week. I’m meeting her in Boston. We’ve got plans for the night,” Leah answered, referring to Victoria Sherbrooke, their second cousin and one of Leah’s best friends. The two of them had been born two weeks apart and had roomed together at Phillips Exeter Academy in New Hampshire.

  As far as far Brett knew, Tory still lived in California but made regular visits to the east coast, although he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her. And he was okay with that. He’d never been close to her or her brother. Truthfully, he’d never been close to any of the Sherbrookes on the west coast.

  “Courtney’s coming with us.”

  He hadn’t seen his cousin Courtney since his move back, even though she worked in Boston. According to Aunt Marilyn, Courtney’s mom, she’d planned to attend the fund-raiser at the Harbor House but the flu had knocked his cousin on her butt. “Tell Court I said hi,” he said.

  Leah nodded and looked around the sparsely furnished living room. “Seriously, Brett, you need to do some decorating in here. I’ve seen patient waiting rooms with more character than this.” She dropped her oversized purse on the coffee table. He never understood why she carried around something so large. The thing was big enough to conceal a twenty-pound medicine ball. “My offer still stands. I’ll take care of everything for you, all you need to do is give me a key.” She pointed across the room toward Bo’s bed. “And what’s with the dog bed? I don’t see a dog. Do you make guests sit there?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m working on it.” He loved his sister, but he’d ask Jen’s ten-year-old niece to decorate long before he’d let Leah do it. “The bed is for Jen’s dog. She usually brings Bo when she spends the weekend. But if you want to use it, feel free.”

  “If even her dog has a bed here, you are in deep.” She plucked a few almonds from the container he’d left on the coffee table. “Courtney and I were speculating who’d get engaged next, since her brother already took the plunge. We both thought it would be Curt, but if Jen’s dog has a bed here, maybe it’ll be you.”

  “I guess you and our dear cousin do need something more interesting than fashion to discuss.” Brett waited for the reaction the comment would earn him.

  “Oh please. I heard all about the betting pool Trent and Jake have going, so none of you are any better.” Leah grabbed a few more nuts before heading for the kitchen. “I hope your fridge has more stuff in it than this room.”

  ***

  Since a bright red Porsche was parked in Brett’s driveway, Jen pulled to the curb in front of his house. She didn’t know who owned the car, but she hoped it wasn’t Carl. She’d spent enough time in the man’s presences at the fund-raiser to last her a lifetime. And that was saying a lot. She usually could tolerate being ar
ound anyone. Carl, though, had rubbed her the wrong way.

  “Come on, Bo.” She grabbed his leash and her purse. If Carl was here, she’d have to deal with it until he and Brett finished whatever issues they had.

  She gave Bo a chance to take care of business before stepping onto the porch. The previous weekend they’d sat out there and enjoyed breakfast. She hoped they had the opportunity to do so again tomorrow, assuming the rain held off. If not, maybe she’d surprise Brett and serve him breakfast in bed. The man certainly deserved to be pampered a little when he got some downtime.

  The front door swung open, and Leah rather than Brett greeted her. “My brother’s upstairs on the phone with Carl,” she said, explaining why she’d answered the door and not Brett. “I’m not sure how Brett stands working with the man.”

  She’d had similar thoughts herself. “Brett says he’s one of the best.”

  “Dad says the same thing, but there’s something about him I don’t like. Since I don’t have to work with him, it doesn’t really matter.”

  Once again Jen shared Leah’s opinion.

  Jen walked inside and stopped short. When she’d left last weekend, only the sofa and coffee table had been keeping the silly large-screen television company. Now, armchairs and two end tables helped fill the room. “He got furniture.”

  Leah laughed. “I know. Really, it’s about time. I was thinking about going and ordering it for him.”

  The gray leather chairs matched the gray sofa well, but they weren’t what she would’ve picked out. In her opinion, the room needed some color. The walls were a boring off-white, and he’d never bothered to hang any pictures. The windows remained bare expect for the blinds, and the hardwood floors were beautiful but plain. She would’ve gone with some furniture in blue or perhaps dark purple instead. While she was at it, she’d also add an area rug to the room and some curtains.

  “He even bought a kitchen table,” Leah said.