I cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve been poor before. I’m sure you’ve heard the story of the poor, orphaned boy who rose to the top.”
Brooklyn rolled her light pink lips together. “I have, but you can’t say that your outlook on money hasn’t changed since then. I mean, you have, like, three huge houses.”
I leaned back on the counter and drank my water slowly as I stared at Brooklyn standing so innocently behind the island, messing with the cap on her water bottle. I hated that my life was out there on display for everyone to see. I felt cheated sometimes. Everyone knew so much about me, yet I didn’t know much about them—not unless I asked. But to be honest, I didn’t really care to ask—until now.
The only thing I knew about Brooklyn was that she was an elementary school music teacher who had a knack for songwriting, and that she somehow knew Vinny, which was impressive for not being a blood relative or in the music industry itself.
All of a sudden, I uttered, “Are you poor?”
Brooklyn’s wide eyes narrowed as she clutched her water bottle in her hand, the crunching sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You know I am, otherwise I wouldn’t be stuck working for someone as egotistical and grumpy as you.” My mouth twitched as she continued. “I told you I needed the money. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that I said that.”
I shot back quickly. “I didn’t forget, but I also don’t know what you need the money for.” I grinned as I lowered my eyes to her chest. “A boob job?” I heard her gasp, so I brought my eyes back up to hers. “A new car?” Her eyes narrowed even further, and nothing made me more excited than seeing a fire in her eye. “Unlimited spray tans?”
Brooklyn was simmering now. In fact, if I stepped closer to her, I would probably be burned from her body heat. She all but growled at me and then turned on her heel to stomp away. To where, I had no idea, because she didn’t even know her way around the house. I hurriedly strode over to her, unable to hide my growing smile, and grabbed her hand. I spun her around so that our chests were touching. “I’m just kidding,” I said, peering down into her fiery eyes. Brooklyn was huffing, completely out of breath and pissed off. I slowly let go of her hand and backed away.
I angled my head to the side. “Come on, now; I know you better than that.” I thought for a moment, leaning back on the counter, putting a necessary amount of distance between us. “It has to be something sensible. School loans? Paying off a mortgage?” I suddenly remembered the conversation I’d overheard between her and her sister a few days back, and it clicked. I flicked my eyes to hers, studying her strict posture as the next words came out of my mouth. “I’m going to guess… that the money isn’t even for you. It’s for someone you care about who is in financial trouble.”
Brooklyn’s mouth formed a straight line as she kept her line of sight even with mine. Her small frame straightened even more, and I knew I had it right.
“I hit the nail right on the head, didn’t I?”
Brooklyn crossed her arms over her chest, and my eyes went directly to her breasts. I gulped as I moved my gaze away. “That’s none of your business, now is it, Mr. King?”
I couldn’t help it. A loud laugh escaped my mouth. “Mr. King? What? Are we suddenly going to be professional now?”
That’s exactly what we should be doing. What the fuck are you doing toying with her?
“Ugh!” Brooklyn cried, turning on her heel. “You’re annoying! Just show me to my room so we can get to work. We have one week to get some songs written, and you need all the help you can get.”
A devilish grin formed on my face as I followed after her sassy, swaying hips. The cobalt dress she wore swished in her wake, daring my eyes to follow.
Brooklyn was right, I definitely needed all the help I could get—just not in the way she was thinking.
Chapter Eighteen
Brooklyn
My stomach growled loudly as I unpacked a few outfits to get me through being stuck at Reid’s house for the next week. Stuck? As if you aren’t enjoying it. I wasn’t enjoying it. I wasn’t loving the fact that Reid had smiled more in the last hour of being in his nana’s house than the entire time we were on the tour bus together.
Reid’s nana’s house wasn’t at all what I expected. When he’d said we were going to his house to work on songs, I pictured some mansion type of place, something similar to V’s house. But it was less like V’s house and more like my childhood home. We were out in the country, surrounded by growing trees and the smell of pine. The house was nice—don’t get me wrong—but it wasn’t flashy by any means. It must have been a house that Reid had bought for his nana and then renovated, because it had all the top-of-the-line appliances and updated crown molding, but the décor was something that I could see an older woman having.
I smiled at the small, glass antiques that sat perched on the crochet-doily-lined dresser and the old, brass table lamp that had a pretty pink rose painted along the glass. I ran my fingers along the crochet, almost feeling like I was at home, too.
I just hoped that Reid truly was comfortable here and that he could write some decent songs, not just words on paper that meant nothing. Reid needed to get back to the Reid King that everyone knew. Otherwise, the past few weeks were for nothing.
I clutched an oversized sweater in my hand, after wiggling into my favorite pair of leggings, ready to throw it over my bralette, as a knock sounded on my door.
Before I could pull the sweater over my head, the door opened wide, and there stood Reid with his dazzling smile.
“Reid!” I shrieked, clutching my sweater to my chest.
Reid’s eyes widened as he scanned my torso. “Shit, sorr—” Then he paused. “What the hell, Brooklyn?”
I clutched my sweater even tighter. “What?! You’re the one that just walked into my room!” Granted, I just did that to him last night, but that was different because I was angry with him! I co
uldn’t control myself when I was angry!
Reid stormed inside the tiny bedroom, wafting his cologne all over the place. “You said you weren’t hurt.”