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“Don’t worry. I’ll hold you to that.”
***
Addie recorded the last two deposits she’d made into her company checking account. Once she verified that the balance on her spreadsheet matched the one on the bank’s website, she turned her attention to her monthly bills. Both her rent and electric bill were due, as were a handful of bills to contractors. Whenever this time of the month rolled around she cursed herself for going out on her own. Handling the money side of the business was her least favorite part of her job. She found it not only depressing to see the balance in her account go down, but also tedious. Several months before she started her own company she’d taken a few accounting classes at the local community college. It’d had taken all of her self-disciple to complete them. How anyone majored in accounting and then spent the rest of their working life elbow-deep in numbers was beyond her. If at some point she made enough, she planned to hire someone to take care of all the financial aspects of her company.
Do a good job for Trent Sherbrooke and perhaps that accountant will be in the future even sooner. Addie stuffed the check she’d written into the envelope, her mind going back to Trent. What kind of office would he prefer? Did he like a more traditional style or would his tastes lean toward the ultra-contemporary? Not that it mattered. She’d learned long ago to put aside her own personal tastes and focus on the client. It had been something she’d struggled with on her first few jobs after college. Now though, her personal views stayed safely under lock and key. Even still, she found the projects she enjoyed the most were ones that were more in line with her own preferences.
Right before she left Ducat and Wakefield, she worked with a couple that had purchased a lovely home in Wellesley, which in her opinion hadn’t needed anything. Without even moving into the home, the couple called the firm requesting a complete redesign. They’d wanted the entire first floor opened up and then redecorated. By the end of the project, they’d knocked down walls and added windows making the first floor look like one giant room. Then they added futuristic-looking furniture and lots of stainless steel. By the time Addie finished work on the home, it reminded her of some exhibit from a “houses of the future” display. The couple had loved it and had even given her a rave review, which had pleased her supervisors.
She hoped Trent preferred a more traditional decorating style. It would make the process all the more enjoyable. Maybe almost as enjoyable as looking at him. As much as she didn’t judge a person on looks alone, she’d loved looking at him that day over coffee. She’d found it difficult to look away from his dark blue, almost sapphire-colored eyes. The sun had bronzed his face, its features rugged and sensual at the same time. His strong jaw and chin hinted at a stubborn streak and his mouth, oh man, she could have watched his lips move all day.
Addie slipped her checkbook back into her desk and let herself daydream for a little longer. Yes, he was by far the most gorgeous man she’d ever spoken with. Why couldn’t some of the men she came in contact with on a daily basis look like that? Then again, perhaps it was better that they didn’t. Otherwise she, along with the rest of the female population, would never get any work done.
“Addie,” Tara said from the other side of the door, interrupting her daydream.
“Come on in.” She’d have to fantasize again later.
“Here’s today’s mail.” Tara placed a stack of envelopes and the day’s newspaper on her desk.
“Thanks.” She started sifting through the envelopes, sorting them into two piles, one for bills and another for junk mail. Even at work she received junk mail. Perhaps even more than at home.
“Could I check out the society section of the paper? My cousin’s wedding announcement should be in there.”
Addie reached for the paper at the bottom of her pile. She didn’t even know why she bothered with it. She rarely read it anymore. “You can keep it.” She tugged the society section from the paper and her mouth dropped open.
“What’s wrong?”
In silence, Addie turned the page toward Tara.
“Is that you and Trent Sherbrooke?”
Addie nodded, unable to speak, then she turned the paper back around hoping the picture had changed. Unfortunately, it remained the same a photo of her and Trent enjoying coffee at Ambrosia with the headline “Coffee For Two: Legendary playboy cozies up with local small business owner.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you met him. What’s he like?”
Why would someone take and send in the picture? How had they known her name? Both her name and company name were stated in the article under the picture.
“Addie?” Tara asked again.
“What?” She tore her eyes from the paper.
“What’s he like?”
Addie rubbed her forehead as a headache started. “Nice. Or at least he seemed that way.” She scanned the article, then put the paper down. “This is awful.”
“It doesn’t seem that bad to me.” Tara picked up the discarded paper. “It’s not like you’re sitting with a serial killer or anything. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Not worry about it? Someone not only took her picture but also passed it on. How could she not worry?
Chapter 4
A knock on his office door drew Trent’s attention away from the documents on his desk.
“Marty Phillips is here to see you,” Shirley said after she opened the door.
“Send him in, Shirley.” Absorbed in his work, he’d lost track of time. He’d intended to grab a quick lunch before his meeting with Marty. “And when you get a chance, order me a lunch, please. The same thing I had on Tuesday. Check with Marty and see if he wants anything.”
With a nod, Shirley moved away from the door, and seconds later Marty entered. Immediately, Sara’s warning surfaced. Despite his insistence, she still refused to elaborate on her comments from the other day, but even so, she’d made her feelings clear. Maybe he should have questioned Dylan at Cliff House.
