Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5) (2 page)

“I’ve always been straightforward with you regarding your relationships, and I agree your reputation might hurt your chances. If you had someone in your life like Charlie, I believe it would help win over voters. As for the rest, that’s up to you. Whichever path you take, be prepared for the unexpected.”

He respected his father and he valued his opinions, especially on the matter of politics. Mark Sherbrooke had spent his life around powerful politicians. That was the main reason he’d held this meeting here today rather than in his own office. If he believed Marty was correct, he’d take it into consideration.

A knock at the office door prevented Trent from responding. As lunch was set out on the conference table, his mind weighed the pros and cons of what had been discussed so far. Finding and falling in love with someone was unlikely, even if he wanted to follow Sara’s suggestions. After not finding love for so long, he figured he didn’t even know how to go about it, which left Marty’s plan. Assuming he stayed honest and up front with the woman, he had no problem carrying out a charade. They could set it up like a business contract. “Who do you have in mind, Marty?”

***

Addison tossed the ruined paperwork onto her desk. Once she reprinted the pages she’d have to transfer her notes onto the fresh copies. Thankfully, she could still read them. While the printer worked at spitting out clean copies, she grabbed the white blouse she kept in her office closet. She’d learned at her first professional job the importance of keeping a clean set of clothes in the office. It’d been only her second day at Ducat and Wakefield Designers. She’d been eating her lunch at Quincy Market when a young child had tripped and spilled an entire container of chocolate milk on her lap. She’d had to buy an entire new outfit before returning to work that day. Ever since then, she’d kept an extra outfit at work.

After slipping on the clean top, she stuffed the coffee-stained shirt in a bag with a tiny shake of her head.
Dry-cleaned. Yeah, right
. She didn’t own anything that required dry cleaning. Heck, that particular top didn’t even require an iron, making it one of her favorites. In fact, she owned three just like it only in different colors because she could literally pull it from the clothes dryer and slip it on. Someone like Trent Sherbrooke most likely had all his clothing dry-cleaned or at least washed and ironed for him. The brief thought of the man caused an image to form in her head. Over the years she’d seen plenty of photographs of the handsome billionaire. Most of the time some equally beautiful woman hung off his arm. The pictures hadn’t done him justice. She’d never seen anyone with eyes that shade of blue, and his face, well, she didn’t even know where to begin. Looking at him had been like looking at perfection. As if some great master sculptor had carved him, making sure each feature complimented the others. Her fingers itched at the thought of sketching a picture of him.

Addie dropped into her seat and reached for what was left of her coffee.
Time to get back to work.
She needed to finish this proposal before her meeting with the homeowners tomorrow. Although the project wouldn’t be as large as some of the ones she’d worked on while at Ducat and Wakefield, it’d bring in money and keep her business going. Everyone had to start somewhere. With any luck, in another year or so she’d have enough of a reputation to attract big projects like those she’d worked on in Boston, and then she could hire more employees. Right now the whole company consisted of herself and her part-time assistant, Tara. Of course, if she moved her office out of the city to an area with lower rent it would help, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She loved working in the city. It stimulated her, got her creative side flowing. On more than one occasion she’d be at home struggling on a project and the minute she walked into her office the ideas started to flow. Moving her office out of downtown Providence was an absolute last resort.

She read over the notes she already jotted down, then pulled up the digital photos she’d taken at the Lancaster’s home.

“The curtains you ordered for the Wagners won’t be ready until next week,” Tara said, stepping into her office. A college student at Rhode Island School of Design, Tara worked at the office four days a week. “But the painters can start on Friday if that works for the Vonns.”

Addie ran the information through her head. The late delivery would set the project back a bit, but she didn’t think the Wagners would mind much. So far the couple had been remarkably easy to work with. “Okay. Can you call the Vonns and see if the painter can start then, and I’ll contact the Wagners.” Right now she had two ongoing projects and if the Lancasters liked her proposal tomorrow that would make three solid deals.

“Will do. Is there anything you need before I leave?”

Addie thought about the other office-related tasks that needed to be done that week, but she remained silent. If she asked Tara to stay and help, she would, but Addie couldn’t afford the extra pay. And even though Tara would say it wasn’t necessary, Addie wouldn’t feel right not paying the younger woman.

“No. I’m all set with everything else. Thanks.”

Once Tara returned to her own desk, Addie called the Wagners to break the bad news. As she expected they were fine with the minor delay, which was a relief. Over the years she’d seen some clients become irate when projects didn’t go as planned. Sometimes they demanded discounts because of delays. She’d even seen some break contracts. While Ducat and Wakefield could survive with such financial losses, she couldn’t, at least not at this point.

With the phone call out of the way, she lost herself in the proposal for the Lancaster home. Before she left today, she wanted it done.

***

“How long are you around for?” Trent and Sara had left his father’s office and returned to his downtown apartment.

“About a week. The governor is on vacation with his family in Hawaii. Christopher is arriving tomorrow and since everyone is at Cliff House, we thought we’d visit for a few days then head over to Martha’s Vineyard. Jake and Charlie plan to stay until Sunday, and then they are heading to North Salem to see her family. I don’t know how long Dylan and Callie plan to stay.”

Trent made a mental note of everyone’s plans. At some point between today and the weekend, he’d make an effort to get to Newport. “I appreciate your input today,” he said. “If you weren’t working for the governor, I’d ask you to run my campaign.”

Sara played with the engagement ring on her finger, a thoughtful expression on her face. “So you’re definitely going to run?”

Trent leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

Across from him, she shook her head. “If it’s what you want, I say go for it. Just think hard before you sign on with Marty.”

The only time he heard anything negative about Marty Phillips it came from the candidates that ran against whoever hired him. “He was your father’s campaign advisor, and he’s got a great reputation. I don’t see a problem.”

“He knows what he is doing and he gets results,” Sara said. “Sometimes his methods are questionable. If you want more details, ask Dylan.”

Now she really had him curious. “Come on, Sara. Out with it.” He doubted he’d get anything else from Sara. She’d always been good at keeping a secret, even as a child.

Sara took a sip from her tea before she answered. “You’ll have to ask Dylan, Trent. But take Marty’s insistence today that you get married.”

“You didn’t think the idea of marriage was terrible.”

“And I still don’t, but a real marriage not some sham. You can’t use someone like that.”

“Sara, you wouldn’t have said that a year ago.”

“I might have been more open to the idea,” Sara replied. “But even then I would have thought there wasn’t enough time to pull it off.”

If he took Marty’s advice, he didn’t plan to use anyone. He’d be upfront about the whole thing from the beginning. People might call him a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. “If they know going in, Sara, no one will get hurt. I haven’t decided yet, but if I take Marty’s advice, it’ll be like a business deal.”

Sara actually rolled her eyes at him, reminding him of his younger sister, Allison. “Falling in love and getting married wouldn’t kill you. Jake was almost as bad as you when it came to women and look how happy he is now.”

The number of women that had passed through his cousin’s life didn’t even come close to his. Although Jake had been known as a playboy, much of his reputation had been exaggerated. The same couldn’t be said for him.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for a relationship like Jake’s. I have never met a woman I could picture spending the rest of my life with,” he said. “And since we’re talking about marriage, have you and Christopher set a date yet?” Anything was better than having yet another female relative lecture him about how he lived his life. “Or are you taking a page out of Jake’s book?”

“Do you even need to ask? I don’t think my mom has completely forgiven Jake yet,” Sara answered. “We picked June 23 for the wedding. Mom says it isn’t enough time, but I’m not worried.”

Everything in the office had a feminine touch to it, yet it remained just neutral enough that if anyone walked in they wouldn’t think he’d taken over someone’s office. Of course that was exactly what he’d done. Now that he’d turned his position over to his brother Gray, he needed to ground himself here in Rhode Island if he hoped to make his way into the Senate.

This new position as Regional Director for the Northeast at Sherbrooke Enterprises would allow him to solidify his presences in the state. At the same time, the position gave him a new challenge and allowed him to be closer to family. As much as he’d loved his previous job, it no longer possessed any challenges and it kept him away from his loved ones. Now he worked just blocks from his father and floors above his Aunt Marilyn, who was the director of The Helping Hands Foundation. Originally started during the Great Depression by his great-grandmother to help provide for homeless families, the organization had grown over the years. When his grandmother stepped down as director in the eighties, his own mother had taken her place and expanded the foundation even more. Following her death, his father’s sister, Marilyn, had taken over as director, and today the foundation provided help to homeless shelters, public schools, youth programs, and senior centers.

Yes, the change was for the better, but something had to be done about this office. Next week he’d have his secretary contact some local interior designers. Trent dismissed all thoughts of his office and grabbed the top folder in his inbox. Several area hotels were set for renovations in the upcoming months and he wanted to review the final proposals before he signed off on anything. After that, he would start on the proposal for the new luxury resort proposed for Ogunquit, Maine.

As he turned to the second page for a Sherbrooke Express Hotel located in Hartford, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said as he continued to read.

“Mr. Jackman from Guardian Construction called. He rescheduled your meeting until next week. I already updated your calendar,” Shirley said. “And Mrs. Belmont’s office called. She wanted to know if you’d be available for lunch this afternoon.”

Trent eyed the stack of folders before him. “Not today. See if tomorrow works.” He enjoyed spending time with his Aunt Marilyn but needed to get caught up. According to the date stamp on some of the proposals, they’d come in several months ago, well before the previous regional director left. “What exactly did Monica do anyway? Some of the proposals I read through last night came in five months ago.”

Shirley, who had worked as assistant to Monica as well as the director before that, glanced at the folders. “She was out a lot after she became pregnant. In the past I helped Monica with these, so if you want I can take some of the proposals and go through them.”

As tempting an offer as it was, Trent shook his head. “You have your own responsibilities. I’ll handle this.”

A look of relief passed across the forty-something-year-old assistant’s face. “Please let me know if you change your mind.”

Once Shirley left, Trent returned his attention to the Hartford project. Once he completed that one, he grabbed the next project in the stack. Like the ones he’d looked through the night before, most of the renovations were standard updates. Still, he didn’t want to make any assumptions about the ones he’d yet to read. So one by one, he made his way through the stack, working through lunch and into the early evening. By doing so, he managed to complete a nice chunk of work.

Trent rubbed his eyes. He’d read so much today his eyes burned. Tomorrow he’d tackle the rest. Right now he needed some food and maybe a coffee or two. Otherwise, he risked falling asleep on the way to his stepmother’s get together later tonight.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Trent stopped at Shirley’s desk located just outside his door. Despite it being well past five o’clock, the woman remained. His first day at the office when he’d left at six and she’d still been working, he’d questioned it. Evidently, Shirley had school-age children and acted as her daughter’s soccer coach and her son’s Cub Scout leader. In order to make it to those things, she left early on Mondays and Wednesdays, but stayed late on Tuesdays and Thursdays to make up the hours. Since the schedule had been in place for a few years and seemed to work, he saw no reason to change it.