Bidding On The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 8)

by Christina Tetreault

  “Like you don’t know?” her dad snapped. “Lawrence called me. I know you told Trevor you wanted nothing more to do with him after you promised to make it work.”

  “Dad, I never—”

  “Trevor was happy, so his grandfather was happy. Everything was arranged. We planned on a late September wedding. All you needed to do was cooperate. But you couldn’t manage that.” Color filled Novak’s face and he undid the top two buttons on his shirt. “Do you have any idea what you’ve cost me? And then you walk in here with him, of all people.”

  Derek had never wanted to hit someone more than he did right now. Both his parents had instilled better manners in him, so he refrained from saying what he actually wanted to. “Mr. Novak,” he began, but Brooklyn squeezed his hand. He took the gesture as a request to remain quiet.

  “Can I say something now?” She didn’t wait for an answer before going on. “I never said I’d marry Trevor. I said I’d get to know him, which I did. It wasn’t working. Forcing us together wouldn’t change the fact we’re not right for each other. And I don’t appreciate coming home and finding you waiting for me like this. Just because you had a key doesn’t mean you had the right to use it.”

  You tell him. Admiration for Brooklyn grew. He sensed her nervousness but she wasn’t letting it stop her.

  “If you’d returned my calls, I wouldn’t have had to.”

  Derek had seen a lot of his friends interact with their parents. He’d never seen any of those parents speak to their children the way Novak was addressing Brooklyn.

  When Brooklyn planted both hands on her hips, he knew Novak had gone a little too far.

  “We”—she nodded in Derek’s direction—“went away for the weekend. I didn’t return anyone’s calls.”

  Not the way he would’ve dropped the news, but at least the truth was out there.

  A vein in Novak’s forehead bulged out and his eyes narrowed. Derek expected the man’s head to pop at any moment.

  “Christ. I knew it. You tossed aside Trevor for this—”

  “Don’t say whatever it is you’re thinking. Do. Not. Say it, Dad.”

  “I’m your father. I’ll say whatever I want.”

  Derek had a few comments ready to launch himself, but he suspected voicing any of them would only make the situation worse. Not that it could get much worse.

  “Dad, really, I’m sorry you don’t like Derek, but he’s part of my life. He always will be. We’re engaged.”

  “Engaged,” her father shouted and Derek thought he saw spit fly from the man’s mouth. “You were told the night of the fundraiser he’d never be welcomed into the family. And I meant it.”

  She’d not shared that tidbit with him, but it didn’t surprise him either. Donovan Novak was turning out to be more of a jerk than he’d believed.

  “Marry this spoiled punk and you’ll never be welcome in my house again. And forget about the rest of your trust fund when you turn thirty. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see a dime of it.”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath and wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and assure her everything would be fine. How could the bastard disown his daughter because she wanted to marry someone she loved? Normal people didn’t do things like that.

  “What’s it going to be?” Novak demanded.

  Rather than answer her dad, Brooklyn turned toward Derek, her eyes glistening with tears, and his stomach dropped to the floor. She wouldn’t cave to her father. She couldn’t.

  “Derek, it might be better if we talk alone. Maybe you can go up and visit Trent or Gray.”

  “And leave you alone with him? No.” Judging by Novak’s current state of mind, he didn’t trust the guy not to lay a hand on her.

  “Are you insinuating I’d hit my daughter? Who the hell do you think you are?”

  Novak advanced on him and Derek expected the man’s fist to fly toward his face. Brooklyn jumped in front of him, creating a barrier between them instead. “Please go upstairs and give us a chance to talk. I’ll be fine.” Urgency filled her voice as she remained planted in front of him.

  His gut told him to stay. She might trust her father, but at the moment he didn’t. His head said something different. If he refused her wishes, he wasn’t any better than her asshole father. “Damn it. Fine. But I’ll wait outside. Just yell if you need me.” Upstairs with his brothers, it would take him too long to get to her if she needed him.

  “Thank you. But really, I’ll be fine and this might take a while. Go on upstairs.”

  “Brooklyn, I’ll be right outside the door.” He met Novak’s glare then walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  She waited until the door slammed before she turned back toward her dad. She’d expected a blowup from him. And she’d remembered his warning about Derek not being welcome. She’d assumed he’d been referring to not allowing Derek in the house for the holidays. The idea of him disowning her had never entered her head. Not to mention it didn’t make any sense. This was the twenty-first century. Fathers didn’t dictate whom daughters married—well, at least not in this country.

  Yelling wouldn’t get her anywhere. Besides, one of them needed to act like an adult tonight, and it wasn’t going to be her dad. Putting on her best courtroom face, she said, “Dad, I realize you wanted a relationship between me and Trevor to lead to a wedding. We just weren’t right for each other. I’m sorry if that caused issues for you.” A white lie now wouldn’t make the situation any worse, though truthfully she didn’t care what kind of problems she’d created by refusing to marry Trevor.

  Her dad slipped a finger under the collar of his undershirt and tugged. His face remained bright red and perspiration dotted his forehead. She was about to ask if he wanted to sit, when he spoke.

  “I’m serious, Brooklyn. If you marry Derek, I’ll disown you. You’ll never be welcome in my house again, and you’ll be written out of my will. And I will do whatever I have to, to make sure you never see the rest of your trust fund. Is that playboy and his no-good family worth losing your family over?”

  Enough was enough already. If he insisted on insulting Derek and the other Sherbrookes, at least she had a right to know why. “What’s your problem with him? He’s never done anything to you. Neither has his family. Yet you’ve always disliked him.”

  A muscle in his cheek twitched and he remained tightlipped. Brooklyn didn’t think he planned on answering, which was just too bad because she’d keep asking until he did.

  “You don’t know anything,” he snapped, and once again she didn’t recognize the man before her. “I went to prep school with Derek’s father and Warren. Mark and I were in the same class together.”

  Nope, she hadn’t known that. Then again, she’d never considered where Derek’s father or uncle had gone to school. Even if her dad and Mark Sherbrooke had been classmates, they’d graduated over thirty years ago.

  “You know the pins in my left leg? They’re there because of Mark. He landed on my leg during a football practice our junior year. Caused so much damage I went through three different surgeries. Made it so I couldn’t play again.”

  He couldn’t be holding a grudge because of a freak accident. “Teenagers get hurt all the time playing sports, especially football. Derek’s father didn’t intentionally injure you.”

  “Believe what you want. We played the same position. He wanted me benched and made sure it happened. If that hadn’t worked, he would’ve bought his spot on the starting lineup. He always had to win no matter what, be one better than everyone else.”

  People would say the same about you, she thought, but kept it to herself.

  “We both ran for senior class president. Guess who won? When we graduated, I should’ve been valedictorian but nope, he got that too. Mark’s father made sure his GPA was five tenths of a point higher than mine. Probably cost him a pretty penny too.”

  She noticed him rubbing the center of his chest. As far as she knew he was healthy, but stress w
reaked havoc on a body. “Dad, maybe you should sit and try to calm down.”

  Ignoring her, he continued on like she’d not spoken. “I wanted to attend Harvard. Did I ever tell you? It was my first choice of schools, not Columbia. But while I got waitlisted, Mark’s father bought his son’s way in.” The color began draining from his face and again he tugged at his undershirt collar. “So does that answer your question? The Sherbrookes use whatever means necessary to get what they want. Derek’s no different from the rest of them.”

  “Really, I think you should sit.” His skin appeared ashen and clammy, and if he didn’t sit soon she feared he’d fall down.

  “You decide. It’s either your family or him.” He dropped into a chair, his hand on his chest and breathing heavy. “You can’t have both.”

  Maybe she’d watched one too many hospital dramas, but she suspected her dad was having a heart attack. “You need help. I’m calling 911.” She rushed for her shoulder bag and dug out her smartphone.

  “I’m fine,” he rasped out behind her.

  She dialed 911 and hoped she was wrong.

  Quicker than she’d expected, a strong knock announced the arrival of the paramedics. Since she’d picked up the phone, her dad’s breathing had become more labored. She hated leaving his side but needed to open the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Two paramedics stood outside and she stepped aside so they could get past her.

  “What’s going on?” Derek grabbed her by the arms and looked her over from head to toe.

  “I think Dad’s having a heart attack.” She pulled away, forcing Derek to follow her further inside. From the kitchen she watched as the paramedics worked, getting an IV going and lifting her dad onto a stretcher. The need to know what was going on warred with the knowledge she needed to let the professionals work. Right now they were the only ones who could help him.

  Her dad matched the sheet on the stretcher, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying as they wheeled him past her.

  “Can I ride with him?”

  The taller of the two paramedics nodded.

  “I’ll meet you at the hospital.” Derek squeezed her hand tightly. “Are you taking him to Rhode Island Hospital?”

  “Yes,” the second paramedic answered as he headed out the door.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  Man, she hoped Derek was right. She’d never forgive herself otherwise.

  “Do you want me to call your mom?” he asked as she exited.

  Her mom needed to know, but it’d be better if she got the news from her, not Derek. “No. I’ll call from the hospital.”

  ***

  Twenty. That was how many plastic chairs filled the waiting room. Ten of which were filled with other people either waiting to be seen or waiting for news. Something she really needed. Something her mom needed too. She’d called her right after entering the emergency room. In true Scarlet Novak fashion, she’d remained calm and emotionless. She hadn’t broken down crying or even gasped. Instead, she’d demanded answers. Wanting to know where they’d taken him and what his status was. Brooklyn hadn’t been able to provide much information except the name of the hospital and its address. Actually, she almost hadn’t gotten that out before her mom announced she would be there as soon as possible and hung up. With some luck, the doctors would have news soon and she could call her mom and give her some relief. Brooklyn could only imagine the emotions her mom was experiencing, even if she chose not to exhibit them.

  With the chairs counted, she started on the floor tiles.

  “Is that who I think it is?” a woman behind her asked in what Brooklyn guessed was supposed to be a whisper, although the nurse at the ER intake desk probably heard her.

  “Looks like it. Wonder what he’s doing here?” her companion said, her voice almost as loud.

  Brooklyn stopped counting and looked up, expecting to see Derek. She wasn’t disappointed.

  “Hey.” Ignoring the stares from the people around her, he took a seat and pulled her into his arms. “How are you holding up? Any news yet.”

  She buried her face against his shoulder, the scent of his clothes detergent and soap reassuring, and shook her head.

  “It probably takes time.” He caressed her hair, the gestures chasing off the chills that had started when she entered the emergency room. Chills not caused by the air conditioning.

  “They’re going to show us to a private waiting area,” he said quietly. “When your mom arrives they’ll escort her there. How did she handle the news when you called?”

  “Hard to tell, but she promised to be here as quickly as possible.” With her face still pressed against Derek’s shoulder, her voice came out muffled.

  “Come on, we can talk more later.”

  She pulled away at his comment and found a hospital employee had joined them.

  “Mr. Sherbrooke, Miss Novak, please follow me and I’ll show you to a more comfortable room.”

  She’d witnessed his refusal to accept preferential treatment on more than one occasion, so she knew how much he hated it. If he’d asked to be shown to a private room tonight, he’d done so for her benefit not his.

  The woman seated behind her huffed loudly. “Must be nice,” she said.

  “You know what they say. Money talks,” her companion said equally as loud.

  She ignored them both and followed the employee, grateful for Derek’s arm around her.

  The employee led them down a few hallways and through several doors marked No Admittance before stopping. “There’s a phone on the table as well as a cafeteria menu. Please let us know if you need anything at all. Once Mr. Novak’s wife arrives, I’ll escort her down.”

  The room they’d entered was nothing like the waiting room by the emergency room. Not a single plastic chair or a year-old magazine in sight. Instead, comfortable-looking furniture was placed around the room as well as a small dining table with four chairs around it. Curtains decorated the windows and soft lighting filled the room, giving it a homier feel. The waiting room even had its own private restroom located past the entertainment unit, which held a television and video game system. But best of all, there were no rude individuals loudly sharing their opinions.

  “Do you need anything?” Derek asked while pulling out a chair for her.

  “News.”

  “It’ll come. This hospital has the best doctors in the state.”

  She couldn’t argue with his comment. “I know. But something would be nice. Is he in surgery? Are they doing tests? Is he even alive?” She’d never felt more helpless.

  “He’s alive, so don’t think otherwise. They wouldn’t keep news like that from you.”

  Yeah, he’s right, she reminded herself, raking a hand down her face. But her dad’s condition could change. Not everyone survived a heart attack, no matter how good the doctors. “This is my fault.”

  “Don’t go there. You didn’t cause this.”

  She wished she agreed. “If I’d called him back before we went away, he wouldn’t have come over tonight. Maybe we could’ve had a calmer discussion about Trevor. And if he hadn’t been waiting for me, he wouldn’t have found out about us.”

  Her decision to not see Trevor had made him angry, but learning about her and Derek’s relationship had sent him over the edge. If Derek hadn’t been with her tonight, she might have been able to convince her dad to see reason regarding Trevor, then eventually tell him about her and Derek’s relationship when he was calm.

  “Stop it. A lot of factors can cause heart attacks. I don’t believe a single argument is one of them.”

  “Yeah, but stress is. Not going along with his plans stressed him out. I know it did.”

  Next to her, Derek clenched his teeth, a clear indication he wanted to say something but was refraining. “Let’s not discuss blame. Is your mom driving herself from Greenwich?”

  “She didn’t say. I’m not even sure she was at home when I called. You know her.”

  They sat
in silence until the door opened twenty minutes later. Her mom swept into the room dressed in a cocktail dress with not a single hair out of place. The only outward signs she’d experienced any distressing news were her hands. Her normally manicured nails appeared as if she’d put them through a wood chipper.

  “Mom, how did you get here so quickly?”

  “When you called I was at a party in Bristol. The governor arranged a police escort for me.” She looked past Brooklyn toward Derek before meeting her eyes again. “Tell me what happened. Has a doctor given you an update?”

  “He had a heart attack, but the doctors haven’t told me anything.”

  “Yes, I know he had a heart attack. But what caused it? He skipped the governor’s party because he wanted to speak with you. He planned on waiting until you came home. I assume you two argued.” Her eyes darted toward Derek again. “Was Derek there when your father confronted you?”

  “You knew he got the key from Milan?” By breaking into her apartment—maybe it was the wrong term since he had used a key, but still—he’d violated her trust. If her mom knew his plans, she should’ve tried to stop him.

  Her mom didn’t even flinch at the question. “It was my idea to ask her if she still had it. But only after you never returned his calls. All of this could’ve been avoided if you’d called him back.” Pausing, she grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed her eyes. “And if Derek was there, I’m sure it only made the situation worse. You know how he feels about him.”

  The guilt eating its way through her soul picked up speed. She’d already reached the same conclusion; she didn’t need her mom reminding her.

  “Mrs. Novak, Brooklyn isn’t to blame for this.” Derek held her hand tightly, his thumb gently rubbing her palm.

  Oh boy, wrong thing to say. Brooklyn appreciated Derek’s defense, but tonight she’d rather he kept silent on the matter.

  When her dad got upset he yelled. Not her mom. She turned into a frost queen.