Loving The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport) by Christina Tetreault Page B

it was early morning, but the previous week he’d headed back to Harvard where he was working on his master’s degree. When she approached him and he looked up at her, she’d seen the tears in his beautiful sapphire blue eyes.
    For well over two hours they sat together. She held his hand and listened as he talked about his grandmother who’d had a heart attack the night before. In true Sherbrooke form, the entire clan had descended on Newport to offer each other support and await news. Suffocating from all the family togetherness, he’d left Cliff House around midnight and had sat alone on the beach until she’d found him.
    As they sat side by side, their hands clasped together, he’d revealed just how much his grandmother meant to him. That’s when her brain and heart had realized something. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with Warren.
    After that morning, she hadn’t seen him again for weeks, but he’d stayed in her thoughts. The next time she’d seen Warren, at the Annual Harvest Fair, he’d had a beautiful brunette from a wealthy Texas family on his arm.
    Helen rolled her eyes. “I saw the hearts in your eyes every time you looked at him on New Year’s Eve. You’ve got it bad for him, my friend.” Helen took a sip from her mug before she continued. “You have his phone number right? Call him and ask him out.”
    It was at times like this Ruth couldn’t wait for Helen to move out. “I can’t do that.”
    “Ruth, this is the 70’s not the 30’s. Women ask guys out all the time. It’s no big deal. Cindy asked Ed out last month.” Cindy Harris was another friend from high school.
    If they spoke about any other guy, Ruth would agree and not hesitate. She wasn’t her mother. A modern 20th century woman, she had gone to college. She had a career and her own apartment. That didn’t mean she was about to ask Warren Sherbrooke out to a party.
    “Helen, you know why I can’t ask him out.” They’d had a similar discussion last month. Since Helen had not mentioned it again, Ruth had hoped she’d let it go. She should have known better.
    “You’ve been friends for years. You can’t think the fact he’s rich and you’re not bothers him?” Helen paused and cocked her eyebrow. “And he left his family’s party to come here to see you last month. He didn’t have to do that.”
    Ruth shook her head. No matter what Helen said, she would not change her mind. She’d rather see him walk down the aisle with some snobby socialite than do something that would jeopardize their friendship. She valued it that much.
    “I’m not going to do it, Helen. Let it go.”
    “Ruth Taylor you are a chicken, my friend.” Helen stood and picked up her own hot chocolate. “But I still love you. I need to get ready to go. See you when I get home.”
    “Have fun and say hi to your mom for me.”
    Ruth’s eyes drifted back to Warren’s picture. She wasn’t a chicken, just practical. A man like Warren Sherbrooke might be friends with an average Jane like her, but that didn’t mean he’d date her.
    Helen’s right, he came to the party . She could imagine the shindig the Sherbrookes threw every year. Yet, he left it to hang out with her and her friends. He was probably bored with his usual crowd. “What if that wasn’t it?” she asked the marshmallows in her mug. Should I ask him to the party ? It would be easy to do. She had the phone number to his Cambridge apartment.
    You risk ruining your friendship if you do. Did she want to take that risk? Nope . Ruth turned the magazine upside down and pushed it away. Tonight she’d read the newspaper instead.
    ***
    Warren double-checked his suitcase late Wednesday night. He’d packed enough to be gone for five days. He’d love to spend more time down in Newport, but he couldn’t at this point in the semester.
    “Where are you off to?” Mark, his younger brother, walked into his bedroom without knocking first, not that that was anything new. Even