Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5) (18 page)

Already he pictured the two of them in the kitchen she’d designed sharing breakfast while they enjoyed the ocean view. She’d promised to have the final designs for the bathrooms ready for tomorrow night. Whether she managed it or not didn’t matter to him. All he cared about was seeing her. It’d only been a little more than a day since she left his apartment Sunday morning and gone to work at the bakery, but his body claimed it was much longer. After two nights falling asleep with her cuddled close, he’d had trouble falling asleep the night before without her. Then when he’d woken that morning alone, his apartment seemed cold and empty. Tomorrow morning it would be the same way.

There’s one way to fix that.
The thought jumped into his head. If she moved in he’d fall asleep with her next to him every night and see her every morning. Not only that, but if she moved in she’d have money and perhaps quit the bakery. Asking her would benefit both of them. His mood brightened at the thought.

But was it too soon? He’d never asked a woman to move in with him. Was there an appropriate time frame for that sort of thing? And if he did ask, would she agree? The initial confidence toward the idea dimmed. Before he jumped in and did something unwise, he better think about it.

Across the room, a knock sounded on the door just before it opened and Marty Phillips entered for their scheduled appointment. “Judging by those photos in
The Star Report Magazine
, you’re making great progress with Addison.” Marty dropped his briefcase on the conference table. “Excellent work.”

He almost told the advisor to shut his mouth, but he managed to keep silent. Instead, he took a seat across from Marty, ready to work.

“A source of mine at
Today Magazine
informed me the chief editor sent Marcy Blake out to interview her.”

This time no amount of self-control could hold back his groan. Marcy Blake was well known for her celebrity pieces. In fact, she’d done multiple ones on his cousins Jake and Sara in the past, both times manipulating or plain old making up facts so the stories were juicer.

“But before we get into the specifics of your relationship, I want to focus on your likely competition as of now.” Marty pulled a laptop from his brief case. “I know for a fact Daniel Potter has hired Roberta Featherton as his advisor. In case you haven’t heard of her she worked on Governor Wentworth’s campaign and Senator Lockhart’s.”

While not well, he knew Daniel Potter. They’d attended Harvard for a year together; Daniel had been a senior the year Trent started.

“Potter possesses no political experience either,” Marty continued. “However, he does have a wife of three years and a one-year-old daughter. As of yet I’ve been unable to uncover anything that would tarnish his reputation, but I have people digging.”

Trent doubted Marty’s search would dig anything up. The Daniel Potter he remembered was a decent guy if not a bit full of himself.

Marty powered up his laptop. “Of course he doesn’t have the same financial resources as you or the same family clout.” When the screen lit up he brought up a file and then pushed the laptop off to the side. “I’ve also heard, although it hasn’t been confirmed, that Harry Thatcher intends to run as an independent. Thatcher himself isn’t a concern, but he might pull just enough votes away from you, allowing Potter to win.”

Trent agreed. There was next to no chance that Thatcher could win. He’d run in the past two elections and lost. His entry into the race as a third party candidate, however, could affect his own chances at election. “What are the chances he’ll run?”

“Not sure. I’ve heard a rumor from another source that his health is failing. If that’s true, a run for Senate might be too much for him. We’ll have to keep an eye on things.” Marty paused for a drink of water. “Now there are some upcoming functions you need to attend. I’ve prepared a spreadsheet for you listing them in order of importance, who’ll be in attendance that you need to connect with, and when they are. I’ve already procured the necessary invites. I need you to decide which ones fit your current schedule.” He turned the laptop so Trent could see the screen. “The Charity Auction for the Providence Children’s Hospital is in my opinion the most imperative at present. Agatha Beland, Vincent Beland’s wife, is on the board of directors and this is her baby. She oversees this auction every year.”

Trent recognized the name. Vincent Beland, a former Rhode Island governor and wealthy businessman, remained well respected in Rhode Island politics.

“In the past five years no candidate with Beland’s backing has lost an election. You want him on your side.”

As Marty spoke, Trent scanned the list of various events ranging from fundraisers to house parties. For now, he’d commit to the hospital fundraiser. Later he’d go through the list in more detail and pick and choose what events he and Addie wanted to attend. “I’ll take care of this before the weekend is over.”

“I emailed you a copy already. Now let’s discuss your personal life. I’m pleased to see you’ve kept away from other women, or at least haven’t been seen with any. And thus far the media has only had positive things to say about your relationship with Addison.”

At Marty’s words, Trent’s instincts went into defensive mode. The idea of discussing something so personal with the advisor left a sour taste in his mouth. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any way around it. He’d just make sure to keep it from getting too personal. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“Good. I assume that means you’ve moved past the just holding hands stage.” Marty gave him a knowing look, and Trent ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he’d later regret.

In the past he’d shared the details of his sex life with friends, yet now Marty’s question caused his anger to flare. The already present need to protect what he shared with Addie kicked itself up a few more degrees. “You don’t need specific details. All you need to know is we’re happy together,” Trent answered his voice cool and controlled.

“In that case do you think we can manipulate the time table? Is a marriage proposal in the next two months or so possible? Perhaps a wedding by spring—and who knows— maybe a baby on the way next year at this time when the real campaigning starts?”

He pictured Addie in his life on a permanent basis with no problem, but he despised the planned and calculated way Marty mapped it out. “I see no reason to rush everything.” When his fingernail bit into his palm, Trent realized he’d clenched his fist and relaxed his hands. “Let’s leave everything as planned.”

Across the table Marty’s eyes narrowed. “You hired me to win. The sooner you turn into a happily married man the better,” Marty said, his southern drawl becoming more distinct. “And if there is the possibility of making you a happily married
family
man, all the better. Especially now that we know Potter will be your main competition.”

He had hired Phillips because of his track record of getting candidates elected. Back then he hadn’t considered the guy’s methods, or Addison, for that matter.

“I don’t see the problem. The end result will be the same anyway, you’ll just make the trip down the aisle sooner rather than later.” Marty’s expression relaxed. “Either way, you still end up with the old ball and chain.”

He’d never considered Marty’s marital status, but judging by his words, the guy thought little of marriage. “Marty, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll think about it. Can we move on?”

The advisor looked displeased but perhaps realizing who wrote his paychecks, he nodded. “You need to convince Addison to leave the bakery soon. A potential United States Senator in Washington may have a girlfriend with a professional career, but not one who pours coffee as a part-time job.”

Trent counted to ten before answering. “I have considered it, but not because I mind that she pours coffee,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Whether you have a problem with it or not, other people may not see it that way. You know as well as I do that politics is as much about image as it is about the issues.”

It rubbed him the wrong way, but again Marty had hit the nail on the head.

“And she doesn’t have to quit tomorrow, just soon.”

His brain reverted back to the ideas he’d come up with over the past week to help her financially. “I’ll work on it.”

Marty gave him a stiff nod. “Okay, then I think we’re all set for now unless you have any other questions for me.” He powered down his laptop as he spoke.

“Just one. Any luck on who sent that first picture into the
Gazette
?” At this point he didn’t care, but Addie had asked him about it again.

“Dead end. My contact at the paper insists she received the picture anonymously, but I have someone tracing the IP address it came from. Anything else?”

Coming to his feet, Trent extended his hand. “Nothing else now. I’ll let you know which events Addie and I plan to attend.”

After shaking his hand the advisor left, and Trent went back to his thoughts on helping Addie. Aside from her moving in with him, eliminating her housing costs, one idea stood out as an ideal solution. What if he gave her office space in this building? The lawyer on the fourth floor, a long-time leaser and friend of his father, had recently retired. He could offer her the space for free, but without even proposing the idea he knew she’d refuse. That didn’t mean he couldn’t offer the space for less than she paid now for rent. Not only would that help her financially, it would put her closer to him on a daily basis. If he did make the offer, he’d have to be careful of how he went about it. Before he said anything he’d have to consider his words and
approach. In the meantime, he’d have Shirley contact the owner of Addie’s building on Benefit Street and find out how much she paid for rent.

***

Dressed in her favorite pj’s, Addie dropped onto the couch and switched on the television. The week before most of her favorite television shows had returned from their summer break with new episodes and thanks to her DVR she could watch them now. First, she needed to decide what she was in the mood for. Did she want something funny or a drama? Then again she could try something new. A new paranormal series had debuted that weekend, and it looked interesting enough to give a try. Scrolling through her list of recorded shows, she read the short description of each episode, then settled on the new paranormal. Not interested in the opening credits, she hit the fast forward button until she arrived at the opening scene. But no sooner did the action begin, when her phone rang, the guitar chords from
Stairway to Heaven
, Trent’s ringtone, filling the room. She’d set the special ringtone for him after their first official date weeks earlier.

“Hey, you,” she said as she paused the television show on the screen, catching the actors in a ridiculous pose. “Are you already home?” She remembered that he’d had a late afternoon meeting with his campaign advisor that day followed by dinner with his father, stepmother, and one of his brothers who was in town.

“Just walked in,” Trent answered as she pictured him climbing the stairs up to the second floor, pulling off his tie as he walked. “Everyone was disappointed that you didn’t join us. They want to meet you.”

When he’d invited her, the idea of meeting his family overwhelmed her. Heck, she’d once worked for his stepmother, not that the woman knew that. He’d understood when she’d declined, but if their relationship continued, at some point she might have to meet his family.

“And I want you to meet them.”

Trent’s words caused her heart to skip a beat. “Next time, I promise,” she answered. “But with you not around, I finished all my work so tomorrow night I’m all yours.”

“Good. Why don’t you stay here tomorrow night? There’s no reason you can’t go to work from my place the next day.”

She loved the idea of falling asleep and then waking up next to Trent. In fact, if she could do it every day she would. “I’ll pack a bag before I leave here in the morning. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back in the city. I have an appointment out on the Cape again tomorrow.”

“Whenever you get here is fine. If I’m not here I’ll leave instructions with Paul to let you in,” Trent said, referring to the doorman who worked in the afternoons. “Marty told me Marcy Blake stopped in your office today. Are you okay?” Trent asked his concern coming through the phone.

For the next fifteen minutes she told him about her unexpected visit from the magazine reporter, including all the questions Marcy asked and the answers she’d given. As she did, she began to second-guess some of her answers, worried that she’d answered in such a way that the reporter might twist her words or print them in a negative way.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” Trent said, the endearment he used catching her full attention. In the past he’d called her Addison or Addie, this change drove home how serious their relationship had become. “I’m sure you did fine, but if she does print something wrong it’s not your fault. That reporter could twist a simple yes into something else.”

He’d intended his words to reassure her, but they had the opposite effect. Rather than complain and appear to be whining, she changed the subject altogether. “How did your meeting with Marty go?” She knew little about the man other than he’d worked on the President’s campaign, which Trent had only told her after she asked how he’d found the advisor. While she knew such advisors existed, she didn’t have the first clue as to how a potential politician went about finding such people to manage things.