He had hired Phillips because of his track record of getting candidates elected. Back then he hadn’t considered the guy’s methods, or Addison, for that matter.
“I don’t see the problem. The end result will be the same anyway, you’ll just make the trip down the aisle sooner rather than later.” Marty’s expression relaxed. “Either way, you still end up with the old ball and chain.”
He’d never considered Marty’s marital status, but judging by his words, the guy thought little of marriage. “Marty, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll think about it. Can we move on?”
The advisor looked displeased but perhaps realizing who wrote his paychecks, he nodded. “You need to convince Addison to leave the bakery soon. A potential United States Senator in Washington may have a girlfriend with a professional career, but not one who pours coffee as a part-time job.”
Trent counted to ten before answering. “I have considered it, but not because I mind that she pours coffee,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Whether you have a problem with it or not, other people may not see it that way. You know as well as I do that politics is as much about image as it is about the issues.”
It rubbed him the wrong way, but again Marty had hit the nail on the head.
“And she doesn’t have to quit tomorrow, just soon.”
His brain reverted back to the ideas he’d come up with over the past week to help her financially. “I’ll work on it.”
Marty gave him a stiff nod. “Okay, then I think we’re all set for now unless you have any other questions for me.” He powered down his laptop as he spoke.
“Just one. Any luck on who sent that first picture into the Gazette?” At this point he didn’t care, but Addie had asked him about it again.
“Dead end. My contact at the paper insists she received the picture anonymously, but I have someone tracing the IP address it came from. Anything else?”
Coming to his feet, Trent extended his hand. “Nothing else now. I’ll let you know which events Addie and I plan to attend.”
After shaking his hand the advisor left, and Trent went back to his thoughts on helping Addie. Aside from her moving in with him, eliminating her housing costs, one idea stood out as an ideal solution. What if he gave her office space in this building? The lawyer on the fourth floor, a long-time leaser and friend of his father, had recently retired. He could offer her the space for free, but without even proposing the idea he knew she’d refuse. That didn’t mean he couldn’t offer the space for less than she paid now for rent. Not only would that help her financially, it would put her closer to him on a daily basis. If he did make the offer, he’d have to be careful of how he went about it. Before he said anything he’d have to consider his words and approach. In the meantime, he’d have Shirley contact the owner of Addie’s building on Benefit Street and find out how much she paid for rent.
***
Dressed in her favorite pj’s, Addie dropped onto the couch and switched on the television. The week before most of her favorite television shows had returned from their summer break with new episodes and thanks to her DVR she could watch them now. First, she needed to decide what she was in the mood for. Did she want something funny or a drama? Then again she could try something new. A new paranormal series had debuted that weekend, and it looked interesting enough to give a try. Scrolling through her list of recorded shows, she read the short description of each episode, then settled on the new paranormal. Not interested in the opening credits, she hit the fast forward button until she arrived at the opening scene. But no sooner did the action begin, when her phone rang, the guitar chords from Stairway to Heaven, Trent’s ringtone, filling the room. She’d set the special ringtone for him after their first official date weeks earlier.
“Hey, you,” she said as she paused the television show on the screen, catching the actors in a ridiculous pose. “Are you already home?” She remembered that he’d had a late afternoon meeting with his campaign advisor that day followed by dinner with his father, stepmother, and one of his brothers who was in town.
“Just walked in,” Trent answered as she pictured him climbing the stairs up to the second floor, pulling off his tie as he walked. “Everyone was disappointed that you didn’t join us. They want to meet you.”
When he’d invited her, the idea of meeting his family overwhelmed her. Heck, she’d once worked for his stepmother, not that the woman knew that. He’d understood when she’d declined, but if their relationship continued, at some point she might have to meet his family.
“And I want you to meet them.”
Trent’s words caused her heart to skip a beat. “Next time, I promise,” she answered. “But with you not around, I finished all my work so tomorrow night I’m all yours.”
“Good. Why don’t you stay here tomorrow night? There’s no reason you can’t go to work from my place the next day.”
She loved the idea of falling asleep and then waking up next to Trent. In fact, if she could do it every day she would. “I’ll pack a bag before I leave here in the morning. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back in the city. I have an appointment out on the Cape again tomorrow.”
“Whenever you get here is fine. If I’m not here I’ll leave instructions with Paul to let you in,” Trent said, referring to the doorman who worked in the afternoons. “Marty told me Marcy Blake stopped in your office today. Are you okay?” Trent asked his concern coming through the phone.
For the next fifteen minutes she told him about her unexpected visit from the magazine reporter, including all the questions Marcy asked and the answers she’d given. As she did, she began to second-guess some of her answers, worried that she’d answered in such a way that the reporter might twist her words or print them in a negative way.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” Trent said, the endearment he used catching her full attention. In the past he’d called her Addison or Addie, this change drove home how serious their relationship had become. “I’m sure you did fine, but if she does print something wrong it’s not your fault. That reporter could twist a simple yes into something else.”
He’d intended his words to reassure her, but they had the opposite effect. Rather than complain and appear to be whining, she changed the subject altogether. “How did your meeting with Marty go?” She knew little about the man other than he’d worked on the President’s campaign, which Trent had only told her after she asked how he’d found the advisor. While she knew such advisors existed, she didn’t have the first clue as to how a potential politician went about finding such people to manage things.
In response, Addie only received silence. “Trent, are you still there?” she asked when she feared she’d lost the connection.
“Yeah, sorry. I dropped the phone taking off my shirt. My meeting went fine. He gave me a list of events I should attend. I thought we could go through it together and decide which ones to go to. For now, the only one I agreed to was the Annual Charity Auction for the Providence Children’s Hospital. It’s the first Saturday night in October. Can you make sure you have that night free?”
She’d heard of the event held at the Biltmore Hotel. Organized by a former governor’s wife, it attracted celebrities and wealthy individuals from around the country. Over the years the money raised by the event had been used for everything from expanding the hospital to building nearby housing for families to stay in when their children were confined to the hospital for extended periods of time. “Will do.” The next time she worked at the bakery, she’d put in for the whole day off. “Did he ever find out who sent that picture into the newspaper?”
“Not yet, but he’s still working on it,” Trent answered. “Let’s talk about something besides my meeting with Marty.”
She’d noticed before that he didn’t like to talk about Marty, or politics, for that matter. Now, like before, she assumed it was his way of keeping work at the office. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” As much as she enjoyed hearing about all
aspects of his life, she could understand and respect his desire to not think about work once the day ended.
“How about our plans for the weekend? You’re only working Friday night, right?”
The remainder of the conversation focused on the upcoming weekend and their plans.
Chapter 12
In the week and half since their last face-to-face meeting, Marty had called him twice and on both occasions he’d inquired about Trent’s progress toward getting Addie to leave the bakery. Both times he’d assured the man he had everything under control, but in truth he’d been avoiding the topic with her. Tonight he’d address the issue, not only to get Marty off his ass but also because he wanted more of her time. While he realized that was a selfish reason for his actions, he just didn’t care. He had the means to help her and make them both happy, why shouldn’t he do it?
Opening his brief case, Trent made sure he had the lease agreement for the office space as well as the extra key to his apartment, which he planned to give Addie that night. Satisfied he had everything he required, he switched off his office lights and headed out. Traffic from Providence to Cumberland remained light as he took the 146 exit off Interstate 95 and headed north. As he drove, Trent considered the words he’d decided to use when he proposed the idea of moving her office. In the past, he’d always been confident of the outcome when he dealt with women, not so this time. He had no idea how she might respond.
Fifteen minutes after getting on 146, Trent took his exit and then turned onto Addie’s street. The trees on both sides once full of bright green leaves now contained a few orange and red ones too as fall approached. In another few weeks the trees would showcase a mix of red, orange and yellow leaves before they all fell to the ground leaving a mess behind for homeowners. Some people hated this time of year. His sister always complained it signified the beginning of the end as the weather in New England changed and the temperatures began to drop. Trent loved each of the seasons New England offered, something other parts of the world didn’t experience and he’d missed during the years he’d lived abroad. Maybe in the next few weeks, he’d make reservations for them up in Vermont. While the foliage around here was great, nothing compared to the colors up there.
Before getting out of the car, Trent grabbed the items he wanted from his briefcase stuck them inside his jacket pocket, then headed up the walkway. Since his last visit, she’d added some potted mums to her steps, another distinct sign of fall. Today the front door remained open and Mick Jagger’s voice reached him from the other side of the screen door. Ringing the doorbell, he waited.
In a matter of seconds Addie appeared in the narrow hall that led into the kitchen, a dishtowel over her shoulder. “Come on in,” she said before turning back into the kitchen.
Trent followed, the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen were stronger the further he walked in. “I wanted to surprise you, but I got home later than I intended,” Addie said from in front of the stove. An off-white tablecloth covered the small kitchen table that was set for two, complete with wine glasses and candles. “Dinner needs about ten more minutes,” she said as she lifted one lid and mixed its contents. “But the pasta e fagioli is ready.” She pointed to the soup in the pot.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells wonderful.” Trent came up behind her, wrapped his arm around her and kissed her neck.
“Chicken cacciatore,” she answered. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. I hope you like it.” She put down the wooden spoon and turned in his arms. “And I made zeppoles for dessert.” She gave him a peck on the lips. “Have a seat.” She walked around him toward the counter. “I already opened the wine.”
He stood and watched her retrieve the bottle and then pour it. He’d never had a girlfriend cook him a meal. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” Addie walked back to him and tugged his hand. “Now sit down so we can eat.”
Trent did more eating than talking during dinner. The meal Addie prepared could only be described by one word—fantastic. She’d mentioned she’d gotten home later than intended, which meant she’d worked that day as well. He had no idea how she’d managed to prepare such an out of this world meal in such a short period of time. “I can’t eat another bite,” Trent said after he swallowed the last of his zeppole, the custard leaving a sweet taste in his mouth. “If I’d known you cooked like this, I would have started coming here every night for dinner weeks ago.”
“You can stop by for dinner whenever you want, but most nights I don’t cook much more than some leftover soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.” She raised her own zeppole to her mouth and took a bite, some of the custard from inside lingering on her lips.
Before she wiped it away with a napkin, he leaned toward her and licked it away with his tongue. “Mmm, tastes almost as good as you,” he said, intent on kissing her, but instead Addie laughed, stopping him dead in his tracks. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You probably say that to all the women you kiss.”
Only on one other occasion had she mentioned his past, which he appreciated. This time, however, he wanted her to know she wasn’t like the women he’d dated in the past. “Whatever I said to other women in the past doesn’t matter. Only you matter.” Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to give her the key. “I want you to have something.” He dug into the pocket of the jacket he’d tossed across his chair and pulled out the key. “You already have the elevator code, but I want you to have a key, too. That way you can come and go whenever you want, even if I’m not home.”
Addie accepted the key, studying it as if it were a foreign object. “I’m not sure if I’ll stop by if you’re not there, but thank you.” She stuck the key in her jeans pocket. “I have an extra key in my desk that you can have.”
“I have something else for you,” Trent said as he retrieved the lease agreement. “There’s some office space available on the fourth floor of my building. I thought you might be interested in it.”
Addie accepted the papers he held out but didn’t unfold them; instead she dropped them on the table by her plate. “Trent, I can’t afford the rent in your building. Besides, I have one more month on my current lease.”
“You’ll be able to afford it. Open the agreement.” He picked it up and handed it to her again. Addie eyed him with suspicion but complied with his request. He watched as her eyes moved across the page and knew when she’d hit the line stating the monthly rate. Her eyes snapped to his.
“What is this? The rent isn’t even half of what I pay now. Are you renting me a closet?” She folded up the agreement and then held it toward him. When he refused to take the papers back, she dropped them on the table again. “I can’t accept this, Trent. Where I am now is fine, and my landlord agreed not to raise my rent if I sign another two -year lease.”
Stubborn woman. “This is more for my benefit than yours. With you just a few floors down, I can see you whenever I want. And the lower rent will cut down business expenses so you can quit the bakery. Again, that means more time for me.” He caressed the skin on her arm.
Addie stilled his hand with her own. “I appreciate the offer, Trent. Please don’t think I don’t, but I can’t accept this.”
Trent opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “And don’t try to tell me that is what everyone pays for rent in your building.”
“Come on, Addie. What’s the big deal? You get a bigger office and a little break on rent.” He’d expected resistance if he offered her the space but assumed she’d come around. Her tone of voice and posture said otherwise.
“I don’t want your charity, Trent. If my business is going to succeed I want it to be because of me, not because I got some special deal.”
He admired her determination, but at the moment he wished she’d let it go a little. “Will you at least consider it?” he asked.
“If at some point I can afford the rent in your building, I’ll be happy to move my office. Until then, I’ll rema
in where I am.”
Her tone told him she was done with the discussion. Out of ideas, he raked a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Addison. What good is having money if I can’t use it to help the woman I love?” The words flew from his mouth with no conscious thought on his part, but once he said the words his brain kicked in as did his shock. He hadn’t intended to say he loved her, heck, he’d never even thought it before now. With the words out there between them, he realized it was true. Addie had managed to do what no other woman ever had—worked her way into his heart.
Next to him, Addie’s eyes remained wide and she sat motionless. Then, as if she’d just been sent back to her body, a small tentative smile formed on her face. “I love you, too.” She bit down on her bottom lip before she spoke again. “Is this that important to you?”
Almost there. “I worry about you working so much, and I want you closer to me.”
Addie picked up the lease agreement and scanned it again. “Okay, but I don’t want any other special treatment in terms of this lease. If in two years when this lease is up everyone’s rent goes up, I expect mine to go up as well.”
“We can worry about that then,” he answered. By that time she’d be his wife and money would no longer be an obstacle for her.
“Trent, I’m serious. I won’t sign unless you agree.” She crossed her arms across her chest and stared at him.
“Fine, as long as you quit the bakery as soon as possible. And just for the record, I don’t like it.”
Addie nodded. “I’ll give my two week notice tomorrow when I go in.”
Marty wanted it sooner than that, but it would have to do. Convincing Addie not to give a sufficient notice would never happen. “And I’ll arrange to have your office moved.” She opened her mouth prepared to argue, but he didn’t give her a chance. “Since this is my idea, I’ll pay for it. If it makes you feel better consider it partial payment for the work you’re doing on my house.” Trent pulled a pen from his jacket pocket. “Why don’t you sign now and then show me the new designs you told me about?” He wanted it a done deal before she thought more about it and changed her mind.
Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5) Page 14