Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5) (3 page)

Shirley glanced over at him and smiled. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Sherbrooke.”

The heat and humidity broke over him like a wave when he stepped outside. Inside his cool air-conditioned office, he’d forgotten about the heat wave that gripped much of Southern New England. Thankfully, Ambrosia Pastry Shop and Cafe was only a few streets over.

By the time he reached the bakery door, sweat dripped down his back making his undershirt stick to his skin. The smells drifting out of the bakery made the unpleasant situation well worth it. Just as he was about to enter, a woman with two children in a stroller appeared. Stepping to the side, he held open the door for her and then followed inside. As he waited for his turn, his eyes swept over the store. Several college-aged customers sat at the various tables. Some shared the extra large desserts while others studied and drank coffee as they ate freshly made panini.

“Did Uncle put something different in these?”

The female voice grabbed his attention and had him looking back at the table closest to him. The woman who sat there had her back toward him so he couldn’t see her face, but the voice and hair he recognized. Or at least he thought he did. Was that the same woman he’d bumped into earlier that week? She’d mentioned she worked in the area, and while he’d kept an eye out for her over the past week, he’d never seen her again.

“He added some coconut water to the batter. How is it?” a woman dressed in an Ambrosia T-shirt answered from the next table as she washed it down.

“They’re amazing.”

It had to be the same person. Stepping out of line, he walked around to the table prepared to say hello, until he remembered he didn’t know her name. Not that something like that ever stopped him from talking to a woman. “You’re a regular here, too?”

The woman’s head snapped up. “You could say that. Besides, no one makes better Italian wedding cookies than this bakery.”

“Do you mind if I sit? I promise not to spill anything on you this time.” He let his mouth curve into a smile.

The woman moved the unopened magazines on the table. “Have a seat. I already finished my coffee so it’s probably safe,” she said with a straight face despite the laughter dancing in her eyes.

“That puts my mind at ease.” Trent sat down before he continued. “I don’t think I got your name the other day.”

“My name is Addison, but my friends usually call me Addie.” Addie closed the magazine she had open and added it to her pile.

He’d given her his business card the other day but it seemed appropriate to give her his name now anyway. “It’s nice to see you again. I’m Trent.” He stuck out his hand.

Addie accepted and out of habit his eyes went to her left hand, which was bare of any rings. “You didn’t get burned the other day, did you?” The day following the incident he’d expected a phone call from a law office saying he was being sued for scalding a woman with hot coffee.

Addie shook her head, a stray piece of chestnut-colored hair falling over her forehead. “Believe it or not, I’ve spilled hotter coffee on myself before.” She tucked the hair back behind her ear.

“I’m serious about the top. Please send the bill to me.” His stomach growled when a student walked by carrying a slice of Tiramisu.

“The stains came out in the wash. I wore the top again yesterday.”

His mouth watered when he caught a glimpse of a pizza going by. “I need something to eat. Can I get you anything? Another coffee?” If he couldn’t cover the dry cleaning bill at least he could buy her a coffee today.

For a few seconds she considered his words. “If you think that’s safe,” she said with humor in her voice. “Otherwise, some water would be great, too.”

“Since we’re both seated I think we’re okay. How do you like your coffee?”

“Extra light with sugar.”

“Be right back.” Trent stood and rejoined the line at the counter.

A few minutes later, he placed a plastic tray with two mugs of coffee and a spinach pie on the table. “Maybe you should take your coffee off yourself.”

With a small chuckle she reached for the extra light coffee. “Excellent choice. I had that for lunch yesterday.”

“You do come in here a lot.” Trent wasted no time taking a bite of his food.

“My office isn’t far from here so I’m here at least once a day.” She popped another piece of her cookie in her mouth and then washed it down with her coffee. “The girl that just finished washing the tables is my cousin and the woman that waited on you is my aunt. My uncle is probably back in the kitchen.” Addie took another sip from her coffee. “I don’t remember ever seeing you in here before. And trust me, I’d remember.”

“Whenever I visit my father’s office I stop in. Now that I’m working in the city, I’ll be around more.” Trent tore his spinach pie in half.

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll make sure to pay extra attention when I’m walking around here from now on,” Addie said, her voice lighthearted.

Trent smiled and took a good look at the woman seated across from him. Thanks to his behavior over the years and his well-earned reputation, most women, especially unmarried ones, flirted with him or made outright sexual overtures. Except for perhaps his younger sister Allison, no females ever razzed him with slightly insulting jokes. And he liked it. In fact, he liked that he could just sit and enjoy coffee with a woman who didn’t seem to expect anything but perhaps a conversation from him.

“You mentioned your office isn’t far from here. Who do you work for?”

Addie wiped her hands on her napkin. “Myself now. I used to work for Ducat and Wakefield Designers in Boston, but I opened my own office here two years ago.”

“You must be talented. My stepmother hired them to redecorate their estate on the Cape. She insisted they were the best.”

A hint of pink colored Addie’s cheeks and she glanced down. “I worked on that project. It was one of the last ones I worked on before I left. It’s a gorgeous estate.”

The color on her face intrigued him. He’d never seen anyone blush from a mere compliment. “Why did you leave?” He reached for the other half of his food, content to sit and continue their conversation.

Across from him, Addie folded and unfolded the cover of a magazine. “I wanted more control. I learned a lot working for Ducat and Wakefield, but they keep all their employees on a tight leash. All ideas need to be approved by management before they can be presented to clients. Working for myself, I can work closely with my clients. Really get to know them. It makes it easier.” Addie glanced down at her wristwatch and pushed back her chair.

“I need to go. I have an appointment to get to, but thank you for the coffee.” She stood and grabbed her magazines.

On instinct, Trent came to his feet. “Anytime.”

With a smile, she pushed in her chair and began to turn away.

Once again it struck him how different she was. She hadn’t slipped him her phone number or intentionally prolonged their time together. “My new office needs a make over. Would you be interested?” His office did need a facelift, and he didn’t want this to be their last conversation. He’d enjoyed it too much for that.

Addie’s eyes widen just enough to reveal her true feelings.

“Yes,” she answered without any hesitation.

“Great. I’ll have my assistant call your office and schedule an appointment. Do you have a business card?”

After a few seconds of digging around in her purse, she held out a card.

“Excellent. Shirley will be in touch with you on Monday.”

“Sounds good. Have a nice weekend.”

Once she disappeared out the door, he took his seat again. Reaching for his coffee, he looked at the ivory business card in his hand. The words Designs by Addison in bold black script took up much of the space and in the bottom right hand corner her contact information and address were printed.

***

Addie hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot behind her office building when her phone rang. She pulled out the phone as she turned onto Atwells Avenue. “Hi, Chloe,” she said, recognizing the number on the screen.

“How in the world did you end up having coffee with Trent Sherbrooke?” her cousin asked, not bothering with a polite hello first.

The car in front of her moved when the light changed, and she took her foot off the break. “We sort of bumped into each other earlier this week and he spilled my coffee.” Just as she approached the intersection, the light turned red again. “Darn it.” Friday traffic sucked. She should have been paying closer attention to the time. If she were lucky, she’d make it to the other Ambrosia bakery located in Providence just in time for her shift. Her mother managed the first store opened by her great-grandfather in the Federal Hill section of the city and she noticed if an employee was even a few minutes late.

“I guess that explains how you met but not why he sat and had coffee with you.”

The light changed again and Addie crossed the intersection. In the distance she could see the archway and the giant bronze pine nut that welcomed everyone to the Federal Hill section of Providence. “He wanted to make sure I hadn’t gotten burned and he offered to have my blouse cleaned.”

A sigh came through the phone. “I wish someone like that would check on me. So what’s he like?”

“Nice.” Addie turned into the tiny lot behind the building. According to the dashboard clock, she’d have just enough time to change her clothes before her shift started.

“That’s all you have to say? This is Trent Sherbrooke we are talking about. He dated that princess from Denmark last year. You know, the one that no one can figure out how to pronounce her name.”

“I don’t have time now, Chloe,” Addie said as she pulled open the back door into the kitchen. “I’ll call you this weekend.”

“You better.”

In less time than it took Clark Kent to change into Superman, Addie changed out of her skirt and top and into jean shorts and a black Ambrosia T-shirt. She’d told Trent she had an appointment. While it hadn’t been a lie, it hadn’t been the complete truth either. Several times a week she worked at the bakery as a way to supplement her income. So much of what her business brought in went right back into the company that she had little left over for her own personal expenses. When she’d worked in Boston money hadn’t been an issue. They’d paid her well enough right out of college that she’d quit working at the bakery. Someday she hoped that would be the case again. Until then, her job in the family business allowed her to squeak by month to month.

“Great, you’re here,” Marta Raimono, Addie’s mom, said when she spotted her in the kitchen. “I need you to start on the cannoli for the Eckhart bridal shower tomorrow.”

Thank you.
If she had to work at the bakery, she preferred to stay in the back out of sight. On the rare occasions she worked out front, she worried someone she’d either worked with in Boston or someone she’d done design work for would show up and recognize her. Granted, in the two years she’d been back it had only happened once, but that was once too often for her. Even now, when she thought about the afternoon Sue Adamson walked in, she cringed. Both of them had been hired by Ducat and Wakefield Designers right after graduation. In the beginning they’d been friends, bouncing ideas off each other and getting to know the city together. Despite Addie being the more talented of the two, Sue began to get more and more high profile accounts. At first she hadn’t been able to figure out why. When Raphael Ducat, one of the partners, filed for divorce and then suddenly started showing up everywhere with Sue glued to his side, Addie, along with everyone else, figured out the secret to Sue’s sudden success.

Addie slipped an apron over her head as she headed for the long prep table in the back. Already her mom had pulled out trays of unfilled cannoli shells. As she settled into a routine, her thoughts turned away from Sue and toward the gentleman she’d had coffee with that afternoon. In all honesty, she’d never expected to see Trent again. When she looked up and saw him standing there she’d almost fallen from her seat. At first she feared he was a figment of her imagination. After all, since their run in, she had thought of him often. She’d even caved in and sketched him two nights earlier. When he’d asked to sit down, it had taken several seconds for her brain to get a response out of her mouth. As they sat and talked she forced herself to not stare at him, which had been no easy task. He, like everyone else in his family, looked as if they belonged in the movies. For as long as she could remember, pictures of him and others in the Sherbrooke family had been in the media and, unless they had some secret family member locked up somewhere, the entire family was stunning.

Then, as if that hadn’t been enough, he’d asked if she’d be interested in a job. Her first instinct had been to throw her arms around him and shout “yes.” Talk about excellent publicity for her business. Somehow though, she’d controlled herself and offered up a simple yes. But even now as she considered the possibility of working for Trent Sherbrooke, her excitement grew. If she redecorated his office and he liked it, she could have other high profile clients knocking on her office door.

“Wow, you’re halfway done already.”

Her mom’s voice caused her hands to still and she glanced down at the shells on the table. Sure enough, one whole tray was finished. “I guess I got into a good rhythm.”