The Billionaire's Homecoming

by Christina Tetreault

  “No way,” Jen said with exaggerated surprise. “This I have to see.”

  “When they delivered the furniture tonight, I was stunned too. I can’t believe it took him so long. He’s owned the home for a year.” Leah leaned down and scratched Bo behind the ears. “You must be Bo.” The dog rewarded Brett’s sister by licking her hand. “I saw your bed in the corner.”

  “I think he prefers your brother’s sofa.”

  Brett entered the room and came straight toward her. “And the bed in the guest bedroom.”

  They had found Bo asleep in the room down the hall from the master bedroom more than once. Not that she blamed Bo. At home he slept with her, and a real mattress had to be more comfortable than his dog bed. Brett didn’t give her a chance to comment or even say hello. Instead his mouth covered hers hungrily, sending spirals of ecstasy through her body despite the fact his sister stood in the room mere inches away.

  As if from a great distance, she heard someone clear her throat. Then the sound came a second time.

  “Hello,” Leah said. “I’m still standing here. Can you save it for after I leave?”

  When Jen realized Brett had no intention of ending their kiss even though they had an audience, she pulled away.

  “You know where the door is, sis. Make sure you close it on your way out.” Brett winked at Jen and lowered his lips toward her neck.

  Leah crossed her arms and treated her brother to a glare capable of freezing a person solid. “I support your campaign and this how you treat me. Typical.” Her frown faltered and a smile peeked out. “Jen, maybe you can finally teach my brother some manners.”

  “It might be too much of a challenge for me, but I’ll do my best.” Jen giggled when Brett tickled her. “Since I’m starving and someone finally invested in a kitchen table, maybe you can give me some pointers over dinner.” Brett tickled the spot at the base of her spine again, but this time she swatted his hand away.

  “Love to. I’m not meeting Tory and Courtney at Platinum until nine.”

  ***

  She grabbed a pepper off Brett’s pizza and popped it in her mouth. He’d left the food behind while he took another phone call from Carl. It was the third time he’d spoken with Carl since she’d arrived. Either the man didn’t care or didn’t realize Brett needed a life outside the campaign. If Brett did win the election, was this what he had to look forward to? Constant phone calls at all times of the day and night? She hoped not.

  “He won’t call again tonight.” Brett dropped onto the sofa and pulled her legs across his lap again. “And assuming no other relatives make a surprise visit, we should be alone for the rest of the weekend.”

  Jen hadn’t minded the visit with Leah. “I like your sister. She reminds me a little of Kristen.”

  He reached for his plate. With his sister over, they’d ordered pizza and saved the two filets he’d intended to grill tonight for tomorrow night. “She’s got her moments.” Brett raised the pepper-and-clam-topped pizza toward his mouth. “They are few and far between, but she has them.”

  His comment earned him a poke in the side. “Oh my God. You’re so full of it,” Jen said. “It’s obvious you’d do anything for her. And vice versa. You’re lucky to have such a great family.”

  Brett shook his head. “I plead the fifth. Should we put the movie back on?”

  She watched his lips close around the pizza. The man really did have not only the most gorgeous mouth but also the most talented one. He could clear every thought from her head with a single kiss. And the way he made her body react when he used his lips on her breasts or anywhere else brought her to her proverbial knees every time. Even just looking at them now and thinking about how it felt when he wrapped them around a nipple sent heat to her core.

  “Sure,” she said in an attempt to keep her mind on something other than how much she wanted to tug him off to bed and have her way with him. While she planned on doing just that again tonight, she’d at least let him finish his late-night snack first. Jen hit Play on the remote control. “You know what this room still needs?”

  “No.”

  “Curtains. Maybe a rug too,” she answered, looking around the living room rather than at the television screen. “What do you think?”

  Brett shrugged and reached for the second slice of pizza on his plate. “There are some in my bedroom. I got them this week. I just haven’t had time to figure out how to hang them.”

  Jen knew he’d been out all week attending one event or another. “When did you manage to do so much shopping?”

  “There’s this great invention called the internet. You can log on and order whatever you need from stores. Then it gets shipped to you.”

  His comment didn’t deserve anything more than an eye roll. “You ordered your furniture from a website?” She purchased everything from books to cooking pans on the internet, but furniture was different. Before she invested in a chair or a sofa, she wanted to sit on it, test it out and make sure she found it comfortable.

  “And the curtains.” He took a large bite of his pizza. “Ordered all the food in the kitchen on the internet too. The store delivered it right to the door.”

  Until the election was over, she agreed he needed all the help he could get when it came to everyday tasks. “I wish I lived closer. Then I could do things like grocery shop for you.”

  Brett set aside his plate and ran a hand up her thigh and under the hem of her pajama shorts. Her skin prickled at his touch. “I wish you lived closer too.” His voice grew husky. “If you did, I’d have you help me with other things all the time.” He slipped one finger under her panties and touched her. Desire shot through her and she got wet. “Maybe you can help me with them now.”

  He dipped his finger inside, and her muscles clenched around him. “I’m more than happy to help you anytime, anywhere.” Jen sealed her promise with a kiss, ending conversation for a while.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Looking away from the computer screen, Jen rubbed her neck, then answered the e-mail open on the screen. She managed to hit Send before yawning again. She needed either a good nap or a shot of caffeine. Since the workday had several more hours in it, she’d have to settle for the caffeine. Hopefully it would do the trick, because she had two important meetings to get through this afternoon. If the coffee didn’t perk her up, she only had herself to blame.

  Well, maybe she could lay some of the blame at Brett’s feet as well. He’d arrived at her house well after nine the previous night. Then they’d stayed up into the early morning hours fine-tuning the speech he was set to give this afternoon.

  Over the past couple weeks, it had become common for Brett to send her a simple hi or a thinking of you text whenever he got a moment’s peace. The little messages always brightened her day.

  Jen checked her cell phone now as she pulled her purse out of her bottom desk drawer.

  Wish you were here, the message from Brett said.

  She smiled. How could she not? The man was running for the United States Senate yet he still managed to send her text messages.

  Talk to you tonight, she typed before dropping the device into her purse. They might not see each other every day, but a night hadn’t gone by this month they hadn’t spoken no matter the time.

  When Jen had sat near Eden, they’d developed the habit of always checking with each other before heading out for coffee. So rather than head toward the elevator, Jen walked down the hall to Eden’s cubicle. She wasn’t surprised to find her friend chatting away with a new employee Jen didn’t recognize rather than working. Both women fell silent when Jen reached them.

  “I’m going next door for a coffee. Do either of you want one?”

  The employee Jen didn’t know shook her head. “No thanks.” She rolled her chair across to another cubicle without bothering to even introduce herself. Before getting back to work, the woman glanced back over at Jen once and then picked up her cell phone and started typing.

  “If you were going to
Ambrosia, I’d say yes, but I can’t handle the stuff from next door,” Eden said.

  She much preferred the coffee at Ambrosia to what the chain coffee shop next door served as well, but she didn’t have a lot time this afternoon. “It’s not my first choice either, but it’s better than what comes out of the machine in the break room.”

  “True,” Eden said, as her eyes darted toward the computer screen and quickly back toward Jen. Definite concern lurked in the woman’s dark eyes.

  “Is everything okay?” Jen asked. “Do you need help with something?” It wouldn’t be the first time Eden got stuck or fell behind and needed help to meet a deadline.

  “Just working my way through these reports.” She clicked the computer mouse and then turned her screen so Jen could see it. “You remember how tedious they can be.” She gave Jen a tight smile. “But thanks for offering.”

  If Eden didn’t want to confide in her, she wasn’t going to press the issue. Everyone was entitled to his or her privacy, at least in her opinion. Thanks to firsthand experience, she knew the media didn’t agree. “If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’ll be right back.”

  “Will do.”

  The usual office sounds drifted around her as she walked past the other occupied cubicles and offices. At first, she thought it was her imagination that each time she passed by coworkers conversations stopped and eyes turned her way. By the time she reached the end of the hall, she knew it wasn’t. Something similar had happened right after the first photos of her and Brett appeared in the paper. Later the pictures of them attending the fund-raiser at the Harbor House together had intensified her coworkers’ behavior. Over the past few weeks or so the looks had stopped.

  At least until now.

  Jen pulled her sweater tighter around her and entered the reception area. A handful of clients sat thumbing through magazines or checking their e-mails. Thankfully all seemed too preoccupied to notice her as she walked to the receptionist’s desk.

  “Oh, Jennifer, a courier delivered this for you. I was just about to call and let you know,” Willow said from behind her desk, a large manila envelope in her hand.

  Two of the clients reading magazines looked up in her direction. Jen did her best to ignore the unease gathering in her stomach. “Great. I expected them earlier, but better late than never,” she said, keeping her eyes on the receptionist and not the sudden audience they had. “Do you mind holding them until I come back? I’m only going next door for a coffee.”

  “Sure, not a problem,” Willow said.

  “Thanks. Can I bring you back anything?”

  “I’m still working on my iced coffee from lunch. But thanks for thinking of me.”

  Downstairs Jen stepped off the elevator and crossed the building’s lobby. She caught sight of the media lingering outside before she reached the revolving glass door. Immediately after news of her and Brett’s relationship broke, reporters and photographers had gathered outside the building, waiting to catch her. Thankfully, one of the building’s security guards had shown her a back way out so she could avoid the media when she came and went. The door opened into the alley behind the building and made her walk to and from the parking garage or anywhere else longer, but it beat dealing with the media multiple times a day.

  Either the reporters had grown bored or they hadn’t found her newsworthy anymore, because over the last week and a half or so the number waiting outside had dwindled, allowing her to use the main entrance again. In fact, when she came in this morning, there hadn’t been a single person outside.

  The sidewalk out front now was an entirely different story. She estimated at least eight reporters were out there. She could also see a few news vans. For some unknown reason, the media’s attention had been captured again.

  Jen took several steps back and moved behind one of the decorative potted trees and considered her options. Going straight through the front door was out. Even if she didn’t mind dealing with the reporters, it would take time and she was on a tight schedule this afternoon. She could go through the back door and into the alley, but who knew what might happen if they saw her walk into the coffee shop next door.

  “Jennifer, is there a problem?” Aiden, the same security guard who had shown her the back way out, stood next to her.

  She pointed toward the entrance and the spectacle gathered out there. “I was heading out for a coffee. Now I’m reconsidering.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Aiden said, sounding sympathetic. “Surprised to see so many out there again. There was no one this morning.”

  “Me too.” She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why they’d returned. “I guess the break room coffee will have to do.”

  Aiden grimaced. “Hope it’s better than what the machine in our break room spits out.”

  “Probably not,” Jen admitted as she readjusted the straps of her purse. “But drinking it beats dealing with that.” She pointed toward the doors. “Have a nice afternoon, Aiden.”

  ***

  Brett had started his day by meeting with the League of Women’s Clubs of Massachusetts. One of the largest and oldest women's volunteer service organizations in the country, the group was involved in everything from supporting the preservation of natural resources to stressing civic involvement. Despite its lengthy and distinguished past, he’d never heard of the group until earlier this month. From there he’d driven clear across the state to Pittsfield. The event there had ended ten minutes ago, and he had nothing else on his agenda until tomorrow afternoon.

  With a double-chocolate glazed donut and large iced coffee in hand, Brett opened his car door and got behind the wheel. Before he could enjoy a sip of the caffeinated beverage he needed desperately, his cell phone chimed. Brett tossed the bag with his sugary treat on the seat, took a sip of his drink, and pulled out the annoying device.

  We’ve got a situation the text from Carl read.

  Carl had sent him a similar text when the pictures of him and Jen first hit the papers. The man stressed about any unanticipated occurrence.

  The phone chimed again before Brett responded.

  Where are you? We need to meet NOW, Carl’s next message stated.

  At least two hours away. Not even on the Mass Pike yet.

  Get to my office ASAP.

  Carl never demanded. He suggested and sometimes tried to persuade, but he never flat-out made demands. The fact he was doing it this afternoon made Brett uneasy.

  Brett started the car. Of course on the day a potential crisis struck he had to be on the opposite side of the friggin’ state.

  Be there as soon as I can. He didn’t wait for another message. Tossing the cell phone on the passenger seat, he drove out of the parking lot.

  Thirty minutes later, the music playing stopped and instead the sound of his phone ringing replaced it. The car’s touch screen revealed the call was from his dad. First Carl, and now Dad. It couldn’t be a coincidence. A crisis was brewing, or at least something they both viewed as a crisis.

  Sending up a little thanks to whoever developed hands-free technology, Brett pressed the talk icon.

  “Did you know?” Dad asked without returning Brett’s hello.

  “Know what?”

  “How can you ask me that? It was the breaking news story on every station this afternoon.”

  Had his lead over Ted Smith taken a nosedive? Was that the major situation Carl needed to see him about? “I haven’t been near a television all day. But I’m on my way to Carl’s office. Whatever the problem, we’ll develop a plan to handle it.”

  Carl was one of the best in the business. Brett had full confidence in him as well as the rest of the campaign team he’d hired. The situation would be resolved, and his campaign would move forward.

  Silence came through the car’s speakers. The lack of a response caused the unease from earlier to return.

  “You really don’t know.” Dad’s words were a clear statement. “Damn it.”

  Dad went out of his way not
to swear. If he’d reverted to it now, the situation had nothing to do with the poll numbers.

  “When you told me you’d known Jen for two years, I assumed you knew everything about her. Knew whether or not she was the kind of woman a United States Senator should be involved with.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Brett demanded.

  “Evidently, Jen might not be who you think she is.”

  “Bullshit.” As of late, he’d been vigilant about using any language that might offend or be perceived as crude. This afternoon he didn’t care. “I don’t know what’s got you and Carl all worked up, but I know Jen. Whatever you saw is a fabricated story. Some stunt from Smith’s camp.”

  Several seconds passed and Dad remained quiet. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “For your sake, I hope you’re correct. I’ll see you at Carl’s office.”

  The call ended before he could demand more details. Brett considered his options. He could try Jen and see if she knew what the hell his dad was going on about. She’d still be at work though. He hated to bother her there. He could check the news feed on his cell phone. Doing so would mean pulling over. Rush hour traffic would soon descend on the highway and make his drive both longer and more frustrating. Stopping to read the news would only make the situation potentially worse.

  Brett switched lanes and passed the driver in front of him. He’d have to wait to find out whatever shit had hit the fan today.

  A three-car accident and the backup associated with it added at least forty minutes to Brett’s commute. When he finally parked in the garage near Carl’s building, he didn’t bother to grab his suit jacket or put his tie back on. He didn’t care if Dad would disapprove.

  He had the elevator to himself for the ride up to the tenth floor. While he waited to reach Carl’s floor, he sent Jen a text letting her know his call might be late tonight. The elevator doors opened before he got a response.

  This evening Dee, Carl’s personal assistant, sat at the reception desk. He’d never seen the woman seated there before, not even on the nights when their meetings had ended well after the rest of office had left. Instead the assistant always occupied her post a short distance from Carl’s door.