Trent made no move to accept the money she held out. “I got this. You can get it next time.”
Before she could respond, he walked away. Get it next time? Had his statement been one to simply placate her or had he been referring to when they meet to review her designs for the house? Her thoughts leaned toward the placating route. When they met again to review her design ideas their meeting would be held at one of their offices, not in the middle of the busy downtown bakery. Whatever his true intentions, she planned on returning the favor even if that meant bringing something to their next meeting. After all, she should be purchasing something for her client, not the other way around.
With the lunch rush over, only a handful of customers remained in the bakery. While she waited for Trent to return, she scanned the people seated, trying to determine their backstory. It was either that or stare at Trent like a teenager with her first crush while he stood at the counter and placed their order.
Tucked in at a corner table three young men sat drinking coffee. Judging by their age, style of dress and the textbooks open in front of them, she assumed they were students at Brown University. Though not the only university in the area, something about them pointed her in that direction. Across from the students, a man in a pinstripe suit sat with a cell phone glued to his ear and a half-eaten sandwich next to his open briefcase. She tagged him as a lawyer. Perhaps he’d spent the earlier part of the day at the courthouse and stopped in the bakery on his way back to his office. Addie turned her eyes to the last occupied table where two teenage girls around seventeen or so sat texting away on their phones; how they managed to type a coherent message was beyond her. Rather than being focused on the screens in front of them, their eyes remained on Trent as their fingers flew across the letters on their screens.
“They’re brewing a new pot of coffee.” Trent placed their afternoon snack on the table. “They promised to let us know when it is ready.” Before she could move a muscle, he placed a biscotti in front of her.
“That’s not a surprise. They’re probably just recovering from today’s lunch rush. It can get a little wild in here sometimes, and it can be hard to keep up.”
Across from her, he lifted his own cup of espresso toward his mouth. “Sounds like you speak from experience.”
Maintain eye contact. Don’t look at his lips or think about how they’d feel against yours. “I worked here and at the bakery on Federal Hill all through high school just like everyone else in the family. Even when I was in college, I worked at one of the bakeries in the summer. It was sort of expected.”
“I know how that can be.” He put his cup on the table, once again giving her an unobstructed view of his mouth.
The night before she’d dreamed of him. They’d been standing on the balcony that ran the length of his home in Newport and he’d been trailing kisses down her neck.
“Everyone, even my cousin Jake, who my Uncle Warren had to drag into the office, did an internship at Sherbrooke Enterprises. Both my father and uncle insisted we know the inner workings of the company.”
An image of the former playboy, Jake Sherbrooke, being dragged into an office formed and laughter bubbled up inside her. “Now that’s a picture I wish the media had printed.”
Trent chuckled. “It is too bad they didn’t get one. What about you? Did you mind working for the family business?”
“No not really. My brother Tom hated it. Only lasted one summer before my mom banned him from ever entering the kitchen again.”
“Banned him? Sounds a bit harsh. What did he do?”
Memories from the one summer her brother worked at the bakery surfaced. “More like what didn’t he do? When my parents refused to let him get a job somewhere else, he set out to make sure our mother didn’t want him at the bakery. At first it was just little things. Showing up late, taking extra long breaks. When that didn’t work he stepped up his efforts. The final straw was when he started a small fire in the kitchen. He still insists that it was an accident, but no one believes him.”
Across the table Trent cringed. “I can see how that would get him banned. Is he your only brother?”
Addie opened her mouth to answer, when Chloe called out to her from the front counter. “Your coffee is ready, Addie.” Addie didn’t even manage to push her chair back before Trent stood.
“I’ll get it for you.”
A girl could get used to this. From the table she followed Trent’s movements as he crossed to the front counter and she almost sighed out loud. Watching the guy walk was just so… she didn’t even know how to describe it. Yet, she knew no one should look that good while simply crossing a room.
At the counter he said something to Chloe, who still stood there, and in return she smiled at him. Then with her coffee in hand, he started back toward their table. The minute he turned his back on her cousin, Chloe flashed her a thumps up sign, then used her hand to signal Addie to call her later.
With the same athletic grace he used when he walked, Trent retook his seat, his attention once again focused on her. “So is he your only brother?” He asked, picking up their conversation right where they left off.
Addie cocked her head to the side and wondered if he asked all his business associates such questions. “If only,” she answered after deciding it didn’t matter how he treated his other associates. “I have four, all older than me.” Even she heard the hint of exasperation that crept into her voice. She adored her brothers, really she did, but having four older brothers was sometimes like having four additional fathers.
At her comment Trent laughed, a deep rich sound that soon had her smiling despite her best efforts to maintain a straight face.
“You sound like my sister. The two of you make it sound like having brothers is worse than death. I’ll have to introduce you to her, I think you’d get along well.”
Addie doubted that. She’d get along about as well with Allison Sherbrooke as she would with the Queen of England. In fact, she probably had as much in common with the Queen as she did Trent’s sister. “You try being not just the only girl in the family, but the youngest, too. Then get back to me.”
Trent raised his cup in a gesture of surrender, but amusement remained in his eyes. “Fair enough.”
With no idea where to take their conversation next, she looked down at her untouched snack and broke it in half. When nothing else came to mind she settled on talk of the projects he’d hired her for but had not yet asked about. “I’ve started on some preliminary designs for your house. I hope to have something rough for you by the end of next week. Depending on what you like or dislike, I can make changes.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.” On the table Trent laced his fingers together, the movement causing his shirt sleeve to inch up just enough to uncover a large expensive-looking watch on his wrist, another stark reminder of just who sat across from her. “I read that the city has WaterFire scheduled for this Saturday night. I’ve never been. Have you?”
Addie shook her head. “Almost made it once last summer, but then it rained and I decided not to go.”
“If you not busy, would you care to join me? We could have dinner first.”
A multitude of questions, ones she should never voice, popped up in her head all clamoring for answers, answers she couldn’t even begin to speculate on. “That sounds like fun.” Great choice of words.
Regardless of her exact choice of words, Trent smiled, pleased with her response. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock then?”
“I’ll be ready.”
***
Trent removed his suit pants and pulled on a pair of jeans. On his way out of his room he tossed the pants into his laundry basket with the rest of the dry cleaning. After grabbing a cold can of soda from the refrigerator, he retreated to his entertainment room for a night of mindless television. Long spans of solitude were not his thing. In fact, he’d spent more nights alone since his recent return to Providence than he had in the last five y
ears combined. Yet if the small sacrifice now earned him a seat in the Senate, he’d manage. If only Jake or one of his brothers was around. Their presence would help the situation.
Not too much longer. This afternoon he’d taken one step closer to winning Addison over. Next week at this time their relationship status would be on the front of every society page and magazine cover. He had no doubt about that. And while Addie had questions regarding his intentions—he’d seen them in her expression that afternoon—she hadn’t hesitated to accept his invitation for that weekend. A weekend he was looking forward to with anticipation and not only because isolation didn’t suit him.
Unlike the numerous women he’d spent time with over the years, and there had been plenty, Addie made him laugh. She teased him and shared information about herself without first worrying about how he might interpret her words. She let her true feelings regarding family show rather than try to distance herself from them as many people he met did. At the same time she never kissed up to him. At least as far as he could tell, she treated him the same way she would any other person or client.
Taking a gulp from the soda can in his hand, he propped his feet up on the coffee table as he planned their upcoming night out. First, they would have a romantic dinner at perhaps Lucerne. One of their secluded tables would do. Then they’d take a stroll down to Waterplace Park to watch WaterFire. Afterward, he’d take her back here for a drink or two. Once back at his place, he’d let her determine just how far things went. While Marty complained things with Addie were moving too slow, Trent disagreed. If he moved too fast it might spook her. While she was a well-educated businesswoman, she came across as a woman who didn’t date a lot. Hell, she even blushed from time to time. Truthfully, it wouldn’t shock him if he learned she hadn’t gone on a single date since the end of her last relationship. And thanks to Marty’s research he knew that relationship ended more than a year ago. Although if that was true, the men she came into contact with must be blind.
Addie didn’t resemble the supermodels that walked the runways in Paris or New York or the actresses that he’d dated over the years. Rather, she reminded him more of Sports Illustrated’s recent mega star that had graced their summer swimsuit issue. She had curves in all the right places and didn’t look as if she’d fall over if a strong breeze came through.
A picture of Addie dressed in a bikini like the one worn on the cover of this year’s swimsuit issue formed in his mind, and Trent smiled at the mental image. While he found fashion models and movie stars just as attractive as the next guy, he’d always favored those who looked fit and healthy. Those that looked like they ate more than once a month. His expert eye told him that description fit Addie and he was looking forward to finding that out for himself.
Trent took another swig from his soda, and he considered whether or not to return Marty’s call tonight. He’d left a message earlier in the afternoon inquiring about a status update. Should he call him now and let him know that things were progressing as planned or wait until later that weekend? Let him wait. Marty worked for him, not the other way around. If he chose to take things slow with Addie that was his business.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Trent switched the device off. Then he turned on the television and settled in for another night alone.
Chapter 8
Halfway out the door Saturday night, Trent turned and went back into the kitchen. An hour earlier the florist had delivered a dozen long stem roses to his apartment per his instructions. Roses he intended for Addie. It’d be rather difficult to give her the flowers when he picked her up if they remained on his kitchen counter. Rarely did he bring flowers to a woman. In fact, the last time he’d given flowers to anyone it had been as part of his sister’s birthday present. Allison, much like their mother, adored flowers. Addie struck him as the type who’d appreciate flowers, and a lot was riding on their date tonight. Despite their earlier interactions, tonight he needed to make it clear his interest ran deeper than simple business. At the same time, he needed to come across as sincere and the type of man she would want in her life. The playboy in the media needed to disappear.
Confident he had all he needed, Trent closed the door and headed for his private elevator. Yup, tonight’s perhaps the most important date of your life. Don’t fuck it up. The elevator door closed on that thought and began its way down to the lobby.
When he pulled into Addie’s driveway a short while later, only her Corolla sat parked in front of her condo. Her windows remained open and when he approached the front door he heard the sound of country music. During their few meetings they’d never discussed music preferences, but he’d pegged her as someone who listened to the latest pop music much like his sister. Country music hadn’t even crossed his mind.
After knocking on the door, Trent waited and took in the neighborhood around him. All the homes on both sides of the street looked identical. Originally built at the turn of the twentieth century for the factory workers and their families, the narrow two-floor homes had at some point in the past decade or so been updated and sold as individual condos. Much like her neighbors on either side of her, she’d added some personal touches to make her home somewhat different from the rest. She’d painted her front door a vibrant red and hung a wreath on it. She’d also added solar lights on either side of her short walkway and hung a wind chime from the overhang above the door.
His eyes had just finished their sweep of the houses nearby when he spotted the sedan driving down the street. While much like the other cars in the neighborhood, Trent got the sense that this one didn’t belong here. True, its slow speed could be due to the driver who wasn’t familiar with the area looking for a specific house number, but something told him the driver had other reasons for being around. As Trent continued to watch, the car pulled to the curb three units down and the driver remained inside.
“Hi, Trent,” Addie said appearing at the door. “Come on in.” She pushed the screen door open for him.
He glanced over at the sedan one last time, then turned his full attention to Addie. This evening she had on a white sundress that reminded him a great deal of the one Marilyn Monroe wore in the iconic picture of her from The Seven Year Itch. The snow-white color emphasized her sun-bronzed skin. She’d pulled all her hair up, leaving her neck exposed, and damn if he didn’t want to touch her to see if her skin was in fact as smooth as it looked. Stepping forward, he entered the house and placed a kiss on her cheek. “These are for you.” He held out the bouquet of roses.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t make a move to take them. Then she smiled and accepted the bundle, bringing the flowers toward her face.
“They’re beautiful.” She inhaled the scent of them, her eyes drifting closed. “Give me a minute to put them in water and then we can go.” She looked back up at him, her expression telling him so much. She wasn’t accustomed to receiving gifts from men, flowers or otherwise.
“Okay. We’re in no rush.”
“I’m all set except for this,” she answered, turning and leading him down the narrow hallway to the kitchen.
Like her arms and face, the skin on her back looked smooth and sun kissed. No tan lines marred the bare flawless skin, and he wondered if she lay out in her backyard topless. With no effort on his part, an image of her in her tiny fenced backyard sprang up. In his vision she relaxed on a padded chaise lounge, her hair tied up much like it was now wearing the bottoms to a string bikini and nothing else. A pair of sunglasses protected her eyes while country music played in the background.
“I’ve never seen roses this color.” Addie pulled a glass vase from a cupboard near the stove. “They’re really gorgeous, but you didn’t have to bring me flowers.”
Trent’s fantasy image evaporated. “I wanted to.” He watched as she trimmed the pink champagne-colored roses. “I made us a reservation at Lucerne. Have you ever been?”
Addie shook her head, the tendrils she’d left free swaying as she arranged the roses in the vase. “No, bu
t I’ve heard about them. The Phantom Gourmet ranked them as one of the best restaurants in New England last year.” She stuck the final rose in the vase and then admired her work. “All set.”
“After dinner I thought we’d head over to Waterplace Park for WaterFire. According to the schedule they have an old-fashioned big band performing tonight. It’s not my kind of music, but it should still be a nice night.” Trent followed her back to the front door, pausing only when she stopped to turn of the music. “If you’d rather do something else, just say the word.”
Joining him at the door, she headed outside. “No, I’ve been looking forward to WaterFire tonight.”
He reached for Addie’s hand as they walked over to his car. He’d done the same thing the afternoon they’d walked though his home in Newport. That day much like now, he’d done it as if on autopilot. The action hadn’t been thought out or planned to elicit a particular response. Rather he’d done it because he enjoyed the physical contact. He liked the way her smaller hand fit inside his, as if they’d been meant for each other. He enjoyed the feel of her soft skin without any flashy jewelry digging into his own flesh. In fact, Addie wore little jewelry at all. Tonight she wore a silver necklace, tiny silver earrings, and a matching silver bracelet. The amount of jewelry she had on tonight was the most he’d ever seen on her. During their previous meetings she’d worn nothing more than a watch. Whether that was because she disliked jewelry or simply didn’t own much he wasn’t sure, but he’d find out. If it turned out she liked it but couldn’t afford it, he’d rectify that situation.
Stopping next to his car, he pulled open the door. “Is something wrong?” he asked when she didn’t move.
“I’ve been seeing that car a lot. Or at least I think it’s the same car.”
Trent followed her line of sight and spotted the same dark-colored sedan that had caught his attention earlier. From her driveway, it appeared empty.
Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5) Page 8