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He’d never before considered how a girlfriend preferred her home. If they liked it cluttered with various trinkets and expensive toys that was their business, it didn’t affect him one way or the other. Now, however, standing in Addie’s living room while she showered and dressed, it pleased him to see she liked to keep her house much like he did. Not that he needed anything else to endear her to him. Already he found himself attracted to her and not just physically. Somehow in the short time they’d known each other, she’d become important to him in a way he’d never experienced before. When they weren’t together he missed her. During their phone conversations he shared the details of his day, something he’d never done with a woman before her. The women he’d dated in the past hadn’t cared how his meeting had gone or whether or not he had a good night’s sleep. They’d been more concerned with what hot, exotic vacation spot he planned to whisk them off to or what new piece of jewelry he’d purchased for them. Addie made no such demands on him. Instead, she asked him questions about himself, his likes and dislikes or how he felt at the moment. In return, he used their conversations to get to know more about her and not just the things he’d already learned from Marty’s file. Thanks to their conversations he knew she’d once dyed her hair bright pink and that when she was six she fell off her bike and knocked out her two front baby teeth.
Yup, he cared about Addie in a way he’d never thought possible. The fact should’ve thrilled him, considering Marty’s plan, and in a way it did. Now that he started this relationship with her, he could easily imagine marrying her. Yet, every time he thought of that a heavy dose of guilt punched him in the stomach. Even though his emotions were involved now, he’d started their relationship with his own personal gains in mind. If the tables were reversed he’d be furious if someone did the same to him and he learned the truth.
She’s not going to find out. He reminded himself again. Besides, what he felt now was genuine, so regardless of why he started things, he cared about her now.
“You could have sat down,” Addie said as she entered the room, her wet hair pulled back in a ponytail, leaving a wet spot on her T-shirt.
Unfamiliar happiness took him by surprise, and he said a little thank you to fate for placing Addie in his path that day outside the bakery. “I was looking at your pictures.” He tilted his head toward the bookshelf. “I’m guessing those are your brothers.”
Addie walked around him and took one picture from the shelf. “We had a sixtieth
wedding anniversary for my grandparents a few years ago. I don’t know how but all my brothers made it.” She pointed first to the older couple in the front. “These are my mom’s parents.” Next, she pointed to the man on her left. “This is Tom, he’s three years older than me. Jon, who is next to my grandfather, is the oldest. He’s seven years old than me. Frank is behind my grandmother. There are only ten months between him and Jon.” She pointed to each man as she spoke. “Rock is a year and half older than me. I’ve always been closest to him.” She put the picture back on the shelf. “I don’t think we’ve all been together again like that since then.”
As much as he and his siblings did their own things and went their own ways, they still tried to get together at least once a year regardless, if only for a few hours. “That must be hard on your parents.”
“A little, but they get it, especially my dad.” She moved back across the room toward the doorway. “I’m going to grab a glass of iced tea. Would you like some?”
“Sounds good and we can decide how to spend the rest of the day.” He followed her into the kitchen, which like the rest of the house was tidy. The roses he’d brought her on their first date remained in a vase on the counter although they’d started to wilt. “Looks like I need to get you new roses.” He stopped next to the flowers and pulled one from the vase, his eyes spotting the handwritten schedule.
“I loved the flowers, but you don’t have to get me anything.” She handed him a tall glass of iced tea.
Her statement reinforced what he already knew. Addie was nothing like the women from his past. “I know.” Trent kissed her before he took a sip from his drink. “What’s this?” He pointed to the schedule on the counter.
“My hours at the bakery next week.” She walked away and took a seat at the table.
He scanned the hours printed on the paper, adding them up in his head. “You’re scheduled for twenty hours next week. Do you always work that much?” When Marty told him she worked part time at the bakery, he’d assumed that meant eight or nine hours not twenty.
Addie paused, her own glass almost to her mouth. “More or less.”
No wonder she’d been tired last night. She must work close to seventy hours a week. “Do you need to work that much?” he asked, confident he knew the answer. Assuming she made at least minimum wage, twenty hours a week at the bakery would bring in a little more than six hundred dollars a month
She nodded. “Most of what Designs by Addison makes goes back into the business and until recently business had been on the slow side. The money from the bakery helps with my personal expenses.” Her tone remained neutral not giving him any hint of how she felt about her situation. “If things stay the way they have been, though, I should be able to cut back at the bakery soon.”
Concern for her well being filled him. A person, no matter their age or health, could only sustain a sixty-plus-hour workweek for so long before it started affecting them. “How can I help?”
“Help? You already have. Ever since you hired me to redecorate your office and work on your house, my business has exploded. I don’t need you to do anything.”
He recognized the look of determination on her face, but it didn’t stop him. “I realize you don’t need it.” He picked his words carefully as he went on. “Trust me, I have my own selfish reasons for wanting to help you.” Trent took her hand. “The less time you work, the more time you can spend with me. So you see by helping you, I’m really helping myself.”
Addie rolled her eyes. “So the truth comes out,” she said with a little laugh. “Really, Trent, I’m fine. Besides, other than dragging clients into my office by their hair, which would be really bad if you plan to run for Senate, there isn’t anything you can do.”
“Yeah, that would be bad.” Even as he agreed, he searched his brain for ways to help her. Even without asking he knew she would never accept his money, and he couldn’t exactly buy stock shares in her company.
“Honestly, Trent. I’m fine and I promise to make plenty of time for you. Don’t worry about it.”
The smile on her lips called to him. Later when he was alone he’d think of something. Right now, though, he planned to just enjoy their afternoon together. “I’m going to hold you to that.” He moved closer and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “So how do you want to spend the day?” According to her work schedule she only had today off. The following day she was scheduled from eight until two. “I’ll go anywhere you want.”
Addie didn’t hesitate. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to visit the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. They have a visiting exhibit of paintings by Caravaggio,” she said, referring to the Italian artist who had painted during the late 1500s. “The paintings are only there for a few more weeks.”
He’d already guessed she enjoyed art given the framed replicas she had on her walls. In all honesty, a day at the art museum didn’t sound as much fun as a day out on his cousin’s sailboat, which Jake kept moored in Newport, but if that was how she wanted to spend the day, he’d go along.
“If you don’t want to drive into Boston today, that’s okay. We can do something else.”
“I don’t mind. Traffic should be light today and the MFA has some great collections.” His reply earned him a smile, which was reward enough for a day spent in a museum. Ten minutes later, they headed out. Addie could spend the day studying old paintings while he studied her.
Chapter 11
Monday afternoon Addie fought back yet another yawn, then reached for the energy drink she’d grabbed on her way into work. The weekend had been as wonderful as the one before, but it had drained her. Between her late night with Trent on Friday and Saturday, she got nothing else done before her afternoon shift on Sunday. In order to catch up, she’d worked late Sunday night on paperwork so that today she could focus on the decorating plans for a new client and put some more work into her design plans for Trent’s house in Newport. Both goals she wanted accomplished before she left for the night. Tomorrow she had an appointment with a potential client out on Cape Cod and doubted she’d make it into the office at all. For that reason she’d asked Tara to work the next day so that the office would remain open.
