Roberta lost her breath.Sweet Jesus!Trying to speak, her lips moved, but no sound came out.
Laurel sat back and crossed her arms. “I know. It’s not just the newspaper. It’s the number one search topic on Google and blowing up on social media. That’s why I’m here. Damage control. Has anyone called you about this?”
“I—uh—uh. No.” She couldn’t take her eyes off her image. For the life of her, she had no memory beyond being in the kiddie pool with the dogs. Did she have sex with Taylor Reyd? It sure looked like it and in her own backyard. Roberta buried her head in her hands. Tears started behind closed lids. “I don’t remember what happened. Did, did Taylor say?” Her face felt scorched.
“I heard all about it. You got drunk. Taylor was afraid you’d drown, so he fished you out. But you couldn’t stand on your own feet, and you slid to the ground. He picked you up, dropped you on your bed, and waited a couple hours to make sure you didn’t get sick and choke.” Laurel patted her hand, then quickly pulled it away. “Did you wake up in a damp bikini?”
“Yeah, about 3 a.m.” Laurel’s eyes showed relief. “Where’s Taylor now?”Is he too embarrassed to see me?
“He’s getting ready for an evening set call.” Laurel flitted her hand as if she needn’t concern herself with him. “Here’s the thing. The photographer who got this momentous shot also noted Taylor didn’t leave your house for a couple hours. The rhetoric is suggestive, of course. It sells papers, as does the photo.”
Roberta’s mouth dropped open again. She could feel her breath exiting over her dry lips. How much worse could it get? She squirmed in her seat before burying her head in her hands, elbows resting on the tabletop.
“You’re going to be hunted now. All you have to do is ignore them. Don’t answer any questions—not a single one. Don’t even give them the time. Not your name, nothing. Understand me? There is no way to prevent them from taking more pictures of you when you’re out in public. But you can keep a low profile, and I suggest you do that for a week or two. Above all, don’t be anywhere with Taylor. No more pictures of you two together. No matter how innocent it is, the media will twist it. Understand?” Laurel gave her a long hard stare.
Laurel’s proclamation reminded her of when she was eight years old. Her parents forbade her from playing with her only friend, the ten-year-old girl from next door. They had been caught smoking a cigarette together out in the treehouse. Roberta wasn’t allowed to play with Mary Lou for a year. It was the loneliest time of her childhood. Her heart sank, hollow and empty.
“What does Taylor have to say about this?”
“He’s glad you’re okay. His intent was to prevent you from drowning. He’s sorry someone with a camera managed to get past the roadblock. It has been reported to the police, and security has been increased on the perimeter. New measures are being put into place. I’ll be doing damage control with the story,” Laurel reported. She rummaged in her handbag, pulling out a small, rectangular, gold case.
Roberta grimaced. She wanted to hear if he was pissed off at her. She wanted to know—what did she want to know? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she wanted to see him again. To apologize in person. Roberta blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes.
“Please give Taylor my thanks for getting me out of the pool and into the house. I know it has caused him a lot of trouble, and I’m truly sorry. I hope he’ll forgive me.” Roberta stood, desiring to show Laurel Lynn Rhinebeck out. Laurel took the hint.
“Absolutely, I’ll tell him. If you have any questions, here’s my card. Just call.” Laurel handed Roberta a business card she had pulled from the gold case. “Thanks for chatting. Ta,” she said, strutting out the door with skirt sniffing hounds on her heels.
Roberta sank back down in the chair to stare at the tabloid Laurel had left. She looked at her face. It wore a sultry smirk.Did I know what was happening at the time?She must have. Her eyes, though catlike in bright sunlight, were open. She knew what was in front of her nose.
She looked at Taylor. His stance was definitely leaning in toward her. On first examination, she hadn’t noticed the look on his face. His eyes were widened as if in shock, but the corners of his lips were ever so slightly turned up. His mouth was open just a fraction, lips parted in an O shape. His hands looked to be moving from his sides to her head, the palms turned inward. To grasp her shoulders and pull her up? Or to grasp the sides of her head and pull her forward? Yes, shock registered on his face, but there was also anticipation and desire. Roberta cringed that so intimate an image found its way to the front page of a popular national entertainment newspaper and all over social media and the internet. Her head ached stronger as Roberta thought of all the people who knew her that might recognize her. With her hands cradling her temples, she returned to her bed, pulling the covers over her head.
The late-night news was over. Tony Otello, the sportscaster, had finished his story on the Yankees’ loss to the Red Sox in overtime at Fenway when a knock sounded at the back door. The dogs didn’t stir. Roberta tiptoed to the door, ready to switch on the exterior light, until she heard a familiar voice call out, “Don’t turn on the light. Open the door.”
Roberta turned the deadbolt, then the knob.
The door opened, and Taylor slipped inside. Like a thief, he ducked below the level of the windows and made for the interior hallway between the kitchen and the bedroom, where no exterior cameras could photograph them together. “I’m sorry to be so—”
“Secretive?” Roberta slouched against the wall, looking at him. She had never seen him look so disheveled. His clothes hung limp and rumpled; his hair stuck up in every direction. He leaned his backside against the wall but bent over at the waist, his palms on his knees, breathing labored and gasping. “Were the hounds of hell on your heels the whole way?”
He stood then, leaning his head back against the wall, and for once gave her a small smile before resuming his panting. “No. I didn’t want to get caught by someone with a camera or worse yet, by Laurel Lynn.”
A snort came out of her mouth before she could stop it. She reached up to cover her mouth, but Taylor was laughing already. “My sentiments exactly. I don’t want another lecture. One is enough for today.”
“Thank you for saving me from drowning. I should have known better than to mix scotch and water.” The pun just came out, but she liked it. It kept the mood light. They had to keep this light. There was too much tension, too much electricity in the short span of hallway between them. The image flooded her mind—of her mouth just inches away from his zipper. Her lady parts went wet and tingly, and she knew that she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions if he touched her.
“No problem. I’m glad you’re okay, except for this morning's prizewinning hangover. All better now?” He tilted his head, looking at her with inquisitive eyes. Big teal blue puppy eyes. Roberta’s knees weakened.
She didn’t know what was worse, the hangover or the image of her kneeling in front of him that replayed in her head over and over again. “Ah, yeah, a couple Advil ... I’m sorry—”
“No, don’t be sorry.” He looked relieved. “I get that your job sometimes forces you to give people bad news. It must be difficult, especially when it involves a child. But consider that the doctors can’t create a treatment plan until they know what it is. Right?”
Nodding, Roberta’s heart swelled with admiration for this man. He had understood what she had told him weeks ago about her job.
He came over to lean against the wall beside her. “I have a media clause about negative press during filming in my contract. But it’s in jeopardy now. I know Laurel said we shouldn’t be seen together again. I think it’s smart not to have any more slipups. But I don’t think it means we can’t hang out. We’ll just have to be sneaky about it.”
Her eyes must have bugged out. Taylor laughed and shook his head in amazement. “Look, I could come over like I just did. Wait until dark. Leave the deck light off, and the door unlocked after I text you. As far as the dogs are concerned, why don’t I call when I get home, you can let them out the back door for their playtime.” He smiled his dazzling superstar smile that took every female’s breath away. “Agreed?”
Roberta’s smile slid from her face. “Uh, you sure?” It didn’t sound like a very good plan, not after Laurel’s directive.And besides, do I really want to be someone he sneaks around with?