Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“She just walked away?”
“From what I’ve heard from aunts and uncles, she got tired of playing mommy.” Reid takes a sip of champagne. “She didn’t walk away. She took the private jet and her affair partner, who happened to be her personal trainer. One of my core childhood memories is hearing my father tell the lawyer if Jeremiah didn’t pass his paternity test, he would be sending my brother to child services.”
Yes, I’m feeling sympathy. “Sorry. That’s awful.”
“Needless to say while my father valued his sons having his DNA, he didn’t care about us much past that,” Reid continues. “He hired a nanny who took care of us when she wasn’t sleeping with my father. When he got tired of her, he hired in a new one.”
“It sounds like chaos.”
“It was. And then when I was fourteen, Marilyn Jennings became our housekeeper. She took one look around and realized she had to take care of us, too. She was the mother figure we needed. And we got a father figure, too. Her husband. They lived in the servant’s quarters, and I started spending a lot of my time there. Jer, too. Her husband taught us so much of what we know. He was a contractor.”
And now I know why it’s important to him. “Lenny.”
He nods. “Lenny. Marilyn died five years ago. Cancer. He was a mess. My brother was something of a mess, though I won’t go into that. It’s his story. I came up with the idea of the show as a way to give us all purpose. Up until then we’d done design work for fun mostly.”
“You were one of the most sought-out designers in all of Manhattan.” He’s underselling himself. It isn’t like I didn’t look him up. Know thine enemy and all that. Though right this second he’s not feeling like the enemy. He’s feeling like someone I might enjoy knowing.
“I graduated from an Ivy League, and the first job I took was with my aunt, who is one of the divas of the Upper East Side.” He grimaces slightly. “I think she’s thrown down with CeCe once or twice. I’m glad we have different last names. My aunt was a Housewife before there was a show. She can bring the drama when she wants to, and she usually wants to. However, she’s extremely influential. Jeremiah was already showing great signs of being a truly talented artist. So when we redid her brownstone, naturally a major magazine wanted to do a story on it. It’s pretty much the definition of privilege, and I know it.”
“Uh, I inherited a whole company. I know it’s not the same level, but I do understand.” I like to be fair, and it seems like Reid and Jeremiah hadn’t had it all golden. “We work with what we’re given. I like that you want to help your friend. I hired him, you know.”
“For which I am eternally grateful,” he says with a gallant bow. “Seriously. Thank you. I am hoping this goes well and we can think about starting something new.”
I have some questions. When I researched what happened with the show, I found nothing except speculation. It happened after the accident—which sounded even more serious than Jeremiah told me. Reid spent some time in the hospital and in physical rehab. “What happened with the last show? It seemed to be going so well. I know all my friends loved it.”
One of the things that made the show work was the banter between the brothers. Reid was the serious one and Jeremiah the heartfelt artist everyone loved. Sunshine and the grump. The hot grump. The charming-when-he-wanted-to-be grump.
I have to wonder if some of it was for the camera. A way to highlight their differences and bring some interesting conflict to the show. Reality TV isn’t so real, as I learned.
He turns to the gardens, looking out over the night. “Appearances can be deceiving. Again, not my story to tell.” He turns my way. “Is there any way at all that you would like to dance with me?”
It’s a huge mistake. I don’t like this guy. Except I kind of do. If I wanted to keep hating him, I shouldn’t have talked to him. “Sure. Why not?”
When we enter the palace again, I give my glass to the waiter picking up empties and let Reid take my hand. I follow him down the grand stairs and into the most romantic setting I’ve ever seen.
Not that it’s going to tempt me. It’s just a dance. Nothing more.
Chapter Five
Ivy stares at me for a moment, her eyes wide. “Uh, you do know who that is, right? Like you didn’t hit your head and now you have amnesia and forgot you hate him?”
I watch as Reid walks toward the bar at the end of the ballroom. He glances back as though making sure I’m where he left me. “I’m dancing with him. Nothing more.”