the winding driveway of the Jamison estate. Brynn had no idea what Reid was bringing her here to see, but getting a chance to check out where he lived was motivation enough for her. She’d heard more than one story in the office about how amazing the Jamisons’ house was. And the reality did not disappoint.
The sheer size of the plantation-style home astounded her—the garden alone taking up more space than her rental house. She half expected Scarlett O’Hara to pop her head out one of the windows and ask them inside for coffee and biscuits.
Reid had told her he lived in the guest space over the garage, so presumably the massive white mansion housed two people. Two! She shook her head. What must it be like to grow up with such luxury, such security? Never wondering if the lights were going to get cut off at the end of the month of if there would be enough money left over to buy groceries for the week. She couldn’t even imagine.
“That’s some house.”
He smirked and shot the house a derisive glance. “No one would ever accuse my aunt and uncle of doing anything halfway.” He parked his car in front of the closed garage. “Come on.”
He led her up a flight of stairs on the side of the garage and unlocked his door. She stepped inside the apartment, and he bumped the door shut behind them. The living room was small, but cozy, and was open to the small efficiency kitchen. Camel-colored couches and dark wood furniture, a big-screen TV in the middle of the biggest wall. Practical, unpretentious. Probably the complete opposite of what resided in the main house.
“This is a nice place,” she said, running her fingers along the back edge of the suede couch.
“Thanks, it works for me. Gives me a little privacy from everything.” He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. “Sit wherever you’d like.”
She maneuvered around the front of the couch, but before she could sit, the purr of an engine outside made them both turn their heads. Reid stepped toward the window next to the door and peeked through the blinds. “Shit. Aunt Roslyn’s here.”
“I thought she was supposed to be at a luncheon today.”
“Yeah, me, too,” he said, still peering through the window. “Dammit, she noticed my car and is headed this way.”
Her heart picked up speed. “Crap. She can’t see me here.”
“Hurry. Go in the bedroom and lock the door. I’ll get rid of her.”
Brynn hustled through the small living area and into the bedroom, clicking the door shut behind her. She held her breath when she heard Roslyn’s voice. The last thing Brynn needed was for the senator’s wife to know she was… Well, she didn’t know exactly what she was doing with Reid, but she doubted the woman would approve regardless.
Unable to resist, she pressed her ear against the door.
“What are you doing home? You didn’t cut out early did you? I told you no special privileges at the office,” Roslyn said, her words clipped.
“I’m on my lunch break, Aunt Ros. Calm down.”
“I called the office to talk to you and Molly said you left with the receptionist.”
Brynn cringed on the other side of the door. Fucking Molly.
“Brynn needed a ride to pick up her car. It’s been in the shop. It was on my way here, so I offered.”
“Is she here now?”
“No, I dropped her off already.”
There was a pause, and Brynn imagined Roslyn was deciding whether she believed her nephew or not. “Is that all there is to it—a friendly favor? Don’t lie to me, Reid. I’ve noticed how chummy you’ve gotten with her.”
“With all due respect, how is that your business? I’m not sixteen anymore.”
“I don’t care how old you are. I know you probably don’t know a lot about that girl. Brynn’s a decent worker, but we’ve done background checks. Her family is… less than desirable.” Roslyn had lowered her voice to where Brynn could barely decipher the words. “And the press would have a field day if they found out you were… cavorting with her.”
He snorted. “Cavorting? Come on. Nothing is going on, all right? We’re friends. She needed a ride. End of story.”
Another pause. “You better not be lying to me. I know she’s probably a lot looser with her morals than the girls you’re used to, but don’t fall into the trap. Women like her have one thing on their mind when it comes to boys like you—a paycheck. Touch her and she’ll either be filing sexual harassment or getting pregnant and petitioning for support faster than you can say ‘good-bye future.’”
“We’re not together. And anyway, she’s not like that.”
Roslyn’s tone turned icy. “They’re all like that. You need to get your head out of your pants and get things back on track with Vanessa. You’re going to end up ruining your chance with her.”
Reid made a frustrated sound, and Brynn stopped listening. She stepped away from the door and sank onto the edge of Reid’s unmade bed, deflated. Was she ever going to escape her family background? Even a woman who treated her with the upmost politeness to her face secretly believed Brynn was a whore-in-training. Tears lined her lids, and she swiped at her eyes. She knew she should be used to the judgment by now, but hearing it from the lips of someone she respected wrenched her gut.
The door cracked open and Reid peeked in, quickly noticing her tears. “Sugar, what’s wrong?”
Brynn shook her head and tried to smile. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
He strode over to her and put an arm around her. “You heard what she said.”
She shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Look, Vanessa is just a girl I was seeing at the beginning of summer. I’m not with her anymore.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just hard to hear what people really think of me.”
“That’s not what everyone thinks of you,” he soothed, rubbing her arm.
“Isn’t it though? The girls at work know I don’t have money, so they think I’m trash. Your aunt thinks I’m trying to tempt you with my wanton ways. And you think something’s wrong with me because I enjoyed the other night. Hell, maybe I do have warped morals.”
“Enough,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Right, I’m not screwed up, yet you believe there’s something the matter with you because of what happened between us. Your logic sucks, Reid.”
He groaned. “Listen, that’s why I brought you here. Maybe I can help you understand. You’re not the only one who wishes they could change their family background.”
He rose from the bed and crossed over to a small desk stacked with textbooks and papers in the corner of the room. He yanked open a drawer, rifled through it, and pulled out a manila envelope. “Here.”
He tossed it onto the bed and shoved his hands in his pockets, his posture turning rigid. She eyed him warily and picked it up. “What is this?”
“My father’s claim to fame.”
She slid her fingers beneath the flap to pull out the contents. A yellowed newspaper clipping. The picture on the article was of an older man with Reid’s features, but none of his warmth. Cold, gray eyes stared from the page, sending a ripple of uneasiness through her. The headline read Serial Rapist Caught. Her stomach flipped over. “Oh, my God.”
“Brutalized thirteen women before he was arrested. Tied them up, beat them, raped them.” His voice caught on the last part. “My mother was his sixth victim.”
The breath left her lungs. Reid was born out of rape?