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Stopping next to his car, he pulled open the door. “Is something wrong?” he asked when she didn’t move.
“I’ve been seeing that car a lot. Or at least I think it’s the same car.”
Trent followed her line of sight and spotted the same dark-colored sedan that had caught his attention earlier. From her driveway, it appeared empty.
“I thought I saw movement inside, but now it looks empty,” Addie said, a hint of unease in her voice.
“We’ll get the license plate on the way by and I’ll have someone look into it.” Already he had an idea of what the car’s owner was up to. He’d bet his new Bugatti Veyron that the car belonged to a photographer out hoping to get a juicy picture or two.
“You can do that?” Addie asked as she settled herself in the passenger seat.
Trent nodded. “Trust me. We’ll figure out who it is. Don’t worry about it.” Closing the door, he glanced once more time toward the sedan just in time to see a figure move inside, a camera with a long lens blocking his face. Yup, a photographer. Not a huge surprise. Since the first photo of him and Addie appeared in the paper, he’d expected to see more, but as of yet none had appeared. Obviously that was about to change. Marty would be pleased, as it would fall in line with his plan.
At the curb in front of Lucerne, his favorite Italian restaurant in Providence, a uniformed valet accepted Trent’s keys before he walked around to the curb where Addie waited for him. On the short ride from her house into the city, she’d filled him in on the designs for his home, making the ride feel a bit more like a business meeting than a date. He let her go on without interrupting; hoping that by the time they reached the restaurant she’d be more relaxed. Though she didn’t say as much, her stiff posture and clenched hands gave away her anxiety.
“Fred confirmed that he completed the painting of your office. Are you satisfied with the color?” Addie sat in the chair he pulled out for her.
Placing his hands on her bare shoulders, he leaned down toward her ear. “It’s perfect, but that’s the last I want to hear about work tonight. Anything relating to my office or house can wait until Monday.”
Addie turned her head and tilted her face toward his, her lips only inches away from his. Tonight she wore a light pink lipstick and his first instinct was to cover her mouth with his and kiss away every last inch of color.
“Okay. What do you want to talk about then?” Her lips moved before he could kiss her.
“You.” He moved to his own seat before he gave into the temptation to kiss her. While he had every intention of doing that tonight, this wasn’t the time or place.
“Me?” she asked with amusement. “I think it would a more interesting conversation if we talked about you.” She accepted the menu the waiter held out to her, and Trent held back his response until the man left the table.
Putting down his menu, he folded his hands on the table. “Ask me anything you want.”
“You might regret saying that.” Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. “But to start what do you recommend for dinner?” Addie opened the large menu still in her hand.
Orders taken, the waiter disappeared once again leaving her alone with Trent. Although several other tables in the exclusive restaurant were occupied, they sat tucked away from prying eyes and ears. Once again the notion that she, Addison Raimono, was on a date with legendary playboy Trent Sherbrooke had her questioning her sanity, something she’d been doing since he asked her to dinner. At first she’d tried to convince herself this was just another business dinner, similar to the one in Newport at the Spiced Pear. But any hopes of doing that evaporated when she opened the door and saw him holding roses. No one, not even Trent Sherbrooke, showed up for a business meal with roses in hand.
“So you said I could ask you anything, right?” A hundred various questions filled her mind, some she’d never have the audacity to ask.
“Ask away. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
A sliver of excitement pierced her stomach at his response. “What kind of music do you like?” Okay, it wasn’t the most personal question she had, but it was a safe, unobtrusive place to start.
Immediately, Trent laughed as he reached for his wine. “Of all the things you could ask, you want to know what kind of music I like?”
At the sound of his laughter, her body relaxed. Her shoulders dipped and the tiny ball of nerves in her stomach disappeared. Somehow his laugh, deep and contagious, touched her body’s physical responses. It had done the same thing during their previous meetings.
“I thought I’d start out with the simple questions and work my way up.”
“A woman with a plan. I like it.” The sensuous undertones in his voice sent another arrow of excitement through her body. “I listen mostly to hard rock like they play on HJY,” he answered referring to a popular rock station out of Providence. “Sometimes I will listen to classic bands like Pink Floyd or Zeppelin.”
Addie didn’t need a mirror to know she’d cringed at his response.
“I take it you like something else?” Trent asked confirming her suspicion.
“I’d rather listen to country myself. Right now Miranda Lambert and Lady Antebellum are two of my favorites.” This time Trent cringed and shook his head. “I do like the Rolling Stones and Aerosmith,” she said. While not her favorite, she’d grown up listening to the two bands, thanks to her parents, and she’d come to like much of their stuff.
Across from her, Trent took a sip from his wine. “I’ll never complain if the Stones or Aerosmith are on.”
Addie and Trent continued sharing tidbits of information with each other as they waited for their meals and through dinner. Each little nugget Trent shared pushed his persona as a spoiled rich playboy further and further to the back of her mind and the new image she had of him continued to grow. This new image showcased a man who, despite media reports, wasn’t superficial and full of himself. Rather, he was charming and polite while at the same time funny and, for the most part, down to earth. He never acted, at least not with her, as if he considered himself better than everyone else and he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously.
“Okay, my turn to ask some questions,” Trent said as they walked from the parking garage toward Waterplace Park. So far she’d asked all the questions. “And I promise to start with the easy ones.” He slipped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her against his side sending her heart rate dangerously high.
