Loving The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport) (2 page)

“Excellent.” Mark smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I knew I was your favorite brother.” Mark and Donna Belmont, the daughter of Senator Belmont, a close family friend, had been a couple since Mark’s freshman year at Harvard. “Why are you going down there?”

It was a fair question. For the most part, Cliff House remained closed up from January until late April. Instead family members vacationed in the multiple homes they owned in warmer parts of the country like Florida and California. “Just need to get out of the city.” He had no intentions of sharing his plans with his brother.

“And rather than soak up some sun in Malibu, you decided to freeze your ass off in Newport. Aren’t you supposed to be the genius of the family?”

One year younger than him, Mark knew how to push his buttons like no one else. “Ever think I don’t feel like flying?”

Mark shrugged and walked back toward the door. “It’s your ass. If you change your mind and come back before Tuesday, do me a favor and get a hotel room. Sunday is Valentine’s Day.”

If all went as he hoped, he’d be spending Valentine’s Day with someone special himself. “You two should get married already.” Donna spent so much time there it was as if she lived there too.

“Already bought the ring. I’ll ask her after I graduate in June.”

The announcement brought Warren to a standstill. He assumed the two lovebirds would get married, but he’d not expected that answer today. “That’s going to be a rather long engagement.” While Mark graduated that June, he still had three years of law school ahead of him. Not to mention Donna had another year at Radcliffe.

“That’s not my plan.” Mark took a step into the hallway.

He should mind his own business. When his brother proposed was none of his business, but he couldn’t. Perhaps it was because he was the eldest, or maybe it was just because out of all his siblings he was closest to Mark. That wasn’t to say he didn’t love his sister Marilyn and youngest brother Jonathon. He’d do anything for either of them. But Mark was more than just his brother. He was his best friend, too. “Just what
is
your plan, little brother?”

Mark leaned against the doorjamb. “We’ll get married next June right after Donna graduates. Between Donna’s mother and ours, they should be able to get a wedding planned in a year.”

Warren had no doubt their mother, Theresa Sherbrooke, a former Hollywood movie star, and Emma Belmont could put together the wedding of the year with a simple flick of the wrist. “You’re going to get married before you finish law school? Have you run that one by Dad yet?”

George Sherbrooke might be a devoted husband and loving father, but he expected things to be done a certain way. Warren suspected their father wouldn’t take the news well that his son planned to marry before he finished his law degree. He could already hear his father’s words as he lectured Mark on how a wife would be a distraction.

Mark nodded once again, catching Warren off guard.

“It took awhile, and I had to make some ... shall we say concessions, but I got the green light.”

“Concessions? Do I want to know?”

“I managed to convince Dad that if we got married, Donna wouldn’t be any more of a distraction than she is now, but I had to agree that we wouldn’t have children until after I passed the bar in Rhode Island and Massachusetts.” Mark shrugged. “Since I am in no rush to add to the Sherbrooke clan, that doesn’t bother me.”

Yeah, but what about Donna? She may have a thing or two to say about that one. But since it wasn’t his problem, Warren kept his mouth shut.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed this little heart to heart, I promised to pick Donna up in thirty minutes. Have fun in Newport.”

That was the plan, although with so many unknown variables, he couldn’t guarantee it. He disliked the unknown. That was just one of the many reasons he loved numbers, despite the fact that his teachers at Choate Rosemary Hall had encouraged him to study psychology rather than economics and finance as he intended.

From the moment he’d been able to walk, or at least it seemed that way, his father had groomed him to take over Sherbrooke Enterprises, one of the largest hotel chains in the world, and then enter politics like his grandfather, current Senator George Sherbrooke Senior had done. While many of his friends and even his brother Mark would have rebelled at the path set out for him, Warren embraced it. In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps.

“See you on Tuesday. Don’t have too much fun this weekend.”

The smile on his brother’s face grew, and he winked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Chapter 2

When Trevor, the butler who lived on the grounds of Cliff House year round, walked in the kitchen and saw Warren, his eyes got large—the most expression Warren had ever seen on the guy’s face, a remarkable feat considering Trevor had worked at Cliff House for ten years. Despite his obvious surprise, Trevor did not question Warren’s sudden appearance. Instead the butler promised to inform his wife Marsha, who worked as head housekeeper, that Warren was in residence.

“It should not take Marsha long to prepare your rooms, Mr. Sherbrooke. Do you want me to contact Henri?” Trevor asked, referring to the chef who ruled; because to say he was in charge of the kitchen didn’t explain the way Henri ran the Cliff House kitchen.

“I’ll take care of my own meals, but please let Henri know I need him to prepare a special dinner on Sunday.” Had he imagined it or had Trevor’s mouth almost dropped open?

“For how many, sir?”

“Two.”

This time there was no mistaking the raised eyebrows on the always prim and proper butler, and Warren bit back a laugh. Who would’ve guessed Trevor had emotions? He and his brother and cousins often joked that the guy was a robot.

“Is there anything special you would like served, or do you want to leave the menu up to Henri?”

Good question and one he’d not thought about. If he left it up to Henri, they’d be eating a gorgeous meal that more than likely consisted of some type of red meat or seafood. The Frenchman insisted on dishes with red meat and seafood. If you wanted something else on your plate, you had to let him know. During the summer his grandmother or his mother went over the weekly menus with the chef for that very reason.

“He has free rein, just tell him to stay away from scallops and lamb.” He knew for a fact that Ruth was allergic to scallops, and he despised lamb. “And make sure the dessert contains chocolate.” With his directions issued, Warren headed upstairs.

White sheets covered all the furniture in his suite. Normally if a family member planned to stay during the winter they called and let Trevor and his wife know weeks in advance so the rooms could be prepared and the necessary staff called in. He hadn’t been able to do that this trip. He’d only made up his mind yesterday. Prior to that, he’d flip-flopped back and forth. Something he’d been doing since August.

Warren dropped his suitcase on the floor, the sound muffled by the thick area rug covering the hardwood. Then he yanked off the white sheet that covered the tall chest of drawers opposite his bed, letting it fall to the floor. Later Marsha could uncover the rest of the furniture. For now he needed a few drawers for his clothes. As he unpacked, he thought back to that August day. Now, like on countless other occasions, a gambit of emotions flooded him. Embarrassment, appreciation, and love.

The first one didn’t surprise him. No man wanted to be seen crying. Yet, that morning he hadn’t been able to keep the tears locked away as he waited for word on his grandmother. Appreciation, he understood that, too. Ruth had sat with him for hours, listening and offering support, as he shared things he’d never told anyone else. But love, that was the one that blew his mind away.

He’d known Ruth forever, and never in all that time had he looked at her as anything but a friend. When they parted that morning, though, he hadn’t watched a friend walk away. He’d watched someone he loved walk away.

For weeks afterward, he’d told himself he’d imagined it. That it had been the stress of the moment. That while Ruth was a friend; they’d never be anything more than that. When he fell in love it would be with someone like his brother’s girlfriend, Donna. Someone from a well-connected family who understood what it was like to live and breathe in his world.

To prove it to himself, he’d asked Beatrice Long out after meeting her at the Harbor Club, a private yachting club in Boston. The heiress to a Texas oil company, she was the perfect woman for him. Soon one date had turned into another, then that October she’d accompanied him to Newport for the Annual Harvest Festival. His family had loved her. Even his grandmother, who was very particular, had approved.

Despite their similar backgrounds and mutual friends, he’d felt no spark. He wasn’t naïve enough to think love was a requirement for marriage. Plenty of his friends’ parents existed in loveless marriages; marriages formed for business and political reasons. Heck even his Uncle Gary, his father’s youngest brother did. But that wasn’t the type of existence he wanted. Someday he wanted what his parents had. So despite his family’s protests, he’d ended things with Beatrice around Thanksgiving.

Soon his resolve to keep things platonic with Ruth wavered. Once again he wondered if maybe she felt the same way. When he called her to see if they could get together and talk in December, she’d been upset because the guy she’d been dating for two months had broken things off.

Some guys would’ve seen a woman on the rebound and jumped in to fill not only the void but her bed. He couldn’t do that to Ruth. So instead, he’d never mentioned them getting together. However, she’d invited him to the New Year’s Eve party she and her friend Helen had planned. Unable to say no, he’d told her he’d try to stop by, not sure he would or even if he should. In the end, he’d been unable to stay away.

He hadn’t seen or talked to her since that party.

Warren placed the last of his clothes in the drawers, hung his suit in the closet, and headed out. If he was going to lay it all out there on Sunday, he wanted everything perfect, which meant a stop at Hammonds Florist on Dubois Street, the best florist in the area and a stop at Crystal Jewelers. After that, he’d see if Ruth was home. She’d mentioned at the party that she’d switched shifts at the hospital, so there was a good chance she’d be home tonight.

***

Settled on the couch surrounded by Helen’s moving boxes, Ruth waited for
Little House On The Prairie
, her favorite television show, to start. Helen had gone over to her mom’s again to finish the wedding favors they’d worked on the night before, leaving Ruth alone with her turkey sandwich and homemade tomato soup. In her opinion, it wasn’t the worst way to spend a Thursday night.

As the opening theme song started and the show’s leading man appeared, she got up and turned up the volume. Before she could sit back down and get comfortable, the doorbell rang. Her immediate reaction was to pull the door open. Only friends and family came to visit her. At the last second, Ruth remembered to look through the peephole her older brother, Dan, had installed the previous spring, following a series of break-ins in the area. When she did, the stupid organ in her chest flipped.

They hadn’t spoken since New Year’s Eve after the brief kiss they’d shared in the kitchen when the clock struck midnight and they’d been the only people in the room. What was he doing here now? Shouldn’t he be in Boston? Spring break wasn’t for another few weeks, and she hadn’t heard of any big society events happening.

Maybe he came down to see me.
The thought sent her heart spinning. Get real, the logical part of her brain countered, her heart plummeting downward like a yo-yo out of control.
He probably needs someone to talk to. Maybe his grandmother is sick again.

Regardless of the reason, she had to open the door. She couldn’t leave him standing outside in the cold, so she pulled open the door. “Warren, hi.”

The smile he used with his friends, rather than the one he used in media pictures, spread across his face, and Ruth had trouble getting words to form. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one.” He stepped inside, wiping his shoes on the welcome rug. “But at least it’s not snowing anymore.”

Helen had rejoiced about that when she left for her mom’s house. “If the news is correct, it won’t snow again until maybe late Saturday night.” She closed the door behind him before any more heat could escape.

Warren shrugged out of his heavy wool jacket.

“I’ll hang that for you.” Ruth took the jacket from his hands, the scent of his aftershave filling her senses.

Warren slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “Thanks. I hope it’s okay I stopped in without calling first.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”
Or anywhere else I am
. “Have a seat.” Ruth hung his jacket in the closet, and then she turned back toward him. “I just heated up something to eat. Are you hungry?”

With a shake of his head, he walked over to the couch and sat. “I ate. Are you moving or something?” He gestured toward the boxes.

“No, that’s Helen’s stuff. She’s getting married Saturday afternoon.”

“That’s right. You’re her maid of honor.”

Yep, once again she was part of a friend’s bridal party. This would be the fourth friend married in the past two years. “A maid of honor whose date canceled on her yesterday. I’ve never gone to a wedding without a date.”

Warren stiffened. “You’re seeing someone? Not the same guy as before Christmas?”

Was she imaging it or had his voice changed? His posture had. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. My friend Steven, he used to work at the store, planned to come with me. He’s known Helen for a long time, too. But he has the flu.”

Warren relaxed again or at least it appeared as if he did.

“I asked Dan, but he has plans, so I’m on my own.”

“If you want, I’ll go with you.”

The next time she went for a physical she needed her head checked. After all, she was hearing things. That was never a good sign.