Page 50 of Hollywood Hotshot

“FedEx delivered this for you,” he said, holding out a large manila envelope.

Taylor took it. Glancing at the return address, his eyes widened.

Gail Reyd reached out for her son’s hand. Taylor flinched at the contact but let his hand lie unmoving beneath his mother’s, his teeth compressed, his jaws clamped shut. “Taylor, she loves you. She’d do anything for you, has done a lot for you, to keep you safe.” The pleading look in his mother’s eyes reminded him of Melissa’s before they had turned hard.

It was a few seconds before the seed of unease planted by the comment started to blossom into a twisting ache.

He pulled his hand away and laid the envelope down on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean,she’sdone a lot for me to keep me safe? Like what?” Taylor’s heart rate kicked up to double time. “What did she do?”

The legs of Gail’s chair scratched across the floor as she pushed it back from the table to stand. She paced to the window and stopped to look out into the backyard before glancing at the house next door, now silent and empty. Reflected in the window, Taylor saw her wrestling to control a smirk. His heart rate quickened even more, and his insides coiled. When she had wiped it from her face, she spun to face him.

“Well, you know, trying to keep your name in the papers for positive things like the Children’s Hospital Charity Ball you two tried to attend last night. And she’s intercepted a lot of negative stuff and squashed it for your benefit. Don’t underestimate her ability to steer the press.”

Taylor’s cell phone rang, the tune indicating Laurel Lynn calling. He winced. The last thing he wanted was another tirade, but given the choice of who to talk to, he answered the phone.

“Laurel. How’s it going?” Taylor stepped over to the window and gazed out across the empty backyard.

“We’re making progress. I managed to put the kibosh on a few stories. But TMZ is insistent about setting up an interview. I keep telling them no interviews, but they say they’ll just write the story their way if you don’t.”

“No interviews,” he said through a tightened jaw.

“Okay, we’ll think of something. Just wanted to give you the option,” Laurel replied. “By the way, how’s your new phone? It took a while to find one exactly like your old one, but my assistant, Bonnie, managed to do it. God bless her soul.”

“What are you talking about?” Taylor stood straight, alert now and listening carefully. A new phone? He removed the one he held from his ear and turned it over several times in his hand. Sure enough, the scratches from his ATV accident, the ones he was familiar with, were missing. This was not his phone.

Laurel sounded perturbed on the other end. “I sent the new phone your mother requested. She said your old phone was acting up, and you wanted the same exact type of phone. We were able to find one and shipped it to Melville.

Taylor’s eyes fixed on his mother. She stared back with wary eyes. There was something very fishy going on. Why was he holding a new phone that he didn’t need? The twisting IN his belly grew stronger. “Fine. You said my mother requested it?”

Gail Reyd’s eyes widened, and she froze. She stared back at him like a raccoon caught in a flashlight beam.

“Yes. It’s okay, isn’t it?”

“It’s good. Thanks, Laurel.” Taylor’s eyes locked on his mother as he disconnected the call.

Approaching her slowly, the muscles throughout his body tensed with each step closer. She had something to do with this mess. He sensed it deep in his gut. He stopped a foot in front of her, eyes fixed on her. “Mom, where’s my old cell phone, and why do I now have a new one?”

“Taylor, honey, um, it was time to, ah, retire your old phone. It was all scratched up. And Melissa and I were concerned it might have been, um, you know, um, damaged in your accident. So, I called Laurel Lynn to find another exactly like it since I knew how much you liked the one you had, um, and had it sent over.” Gail rattled on hastily. She gulped in a deep breath before adding, “That’s all, dear.”

“Melissa had something to do with this?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his mind whirling, trying to make sense of the action. “When did this happen?”

“Well, I called Laurel when you were out with what’s her name. It didn’t occur to us until then that your phone might be damaged.” Gail tried to scoot from between the kitchen counter and her son, but he reached out and stopped her with a firm grip on her elbow.

He struggled to keep his emotions tamped down as the anger rose. The timeline was too coincidental to be ignored. “Mom, what did you have to do with my call to LA for a non-existent screen test?”

Fear invaded her eyes as she tried to avoid looking at him. “I had nothing to do with it.” She wrenched herself free of his grasp and fled into the living room.

The crazy incidents over the last few weeks crashed through his mind. Taylor stalked after her. Gut twisting, his hand clutched her arm again. “And I suppose you had nothing to do with Roberta’s call about the water in her house? Or her dogs being stolen?”

His mother looked panic-stricken, her face crinkling up, and she burst into tears. “It was Melissa. She did it all.”

It took an hour to wiggle the whole story out of his mother. He wanted to hit something. More than anything, he was astounded that someone who professed to love him, his own mother, would go to such lengths to keep him away from Roberta and with Melissa.

Looking wan, his mother sat crumpled at the kitchen table, her face buried in her hands, crying. There was a gnawing at the edge of his mind. One piece of information was missing.

“So, Mom, why did you team up with her?” he asked, his arms crossed over his chest, still leaning back against the kitchen counter, staring at her.

“To keep you away from that creature living next door, dear. I told you that already.” She sniffled, sitting up straighter.

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