CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Taylor rolled his eyesas he paced the Aubusson carpet in Melissa’s Malibu condo. “Why do we have to go to this event?” he asked her yet again, acutely conscious of the polished rosewood furniture, overstuffed chairs, and four-poster bed occupying the room.
“Because it’s the Children’s Hospital Charity Ball, and we said we would be there,” Melissa said, primping her hair once more before getting up from the vanity. She glided to the mahogany chest of drawers, the chiffon of her skimpy gown billowing behind her, and picked up her Prada handbag from beside the “authentic” replica Ming Vase.
Taylor ground his back teeth. He saw pricey objects she’d procured with his credit card everywhere he looked in her apartment. Despite her promises to reimburse him, he had yet to receive a cent in restitution. Checking his watch, he began pacing again. “You mean,yousaid we’d be there.” God, he hated how she had him on the go to more events in the last two days than he could count in his previous ten months. Thankfully, tomorrow he was flying back to Melville to resume shooting his movie. How Laurel Lynn had managed to get him the last two days off from shooting, he didn’t know. Somehow the production crew had managed to film in his absence but needed him tomorrow. He was looking forward to getting away from these endless wastes of time Melissa was dragging him to “for the sake of his career and reputation.”
His stomach churned at the thought of seeing Roberta again. He had to see her. There was so much he had to explain. Initially, he tried to call, but there was no answer. It rolled directly to voicemail, but he didn’t leave a message. This news had probably already hit her, and he doubted she would willingly give him time to explain. He would have to go over to her house, break down the door if he had to, and tell her everything that was happening with Melissa. Assuming she was still there.
“Well, are you ready?” Melissa grimaced, her hand on the doorknob.
Under an early evening sky, the red carpet was lined with the usual assortment of LA tourists, fans, and red-carpet crews. Taylor tried to escort Melissa straight down the carpet, without stopping and without fanfare, but she was not cooperating. As she had at all the other events, she paused to pose for pictures, pulling him to her side for the glamour shot and answering the usual questions. Had they picked a wedding date yet? Did they have a location? Taylor shuddered, then feigned a chill to cover up the gesture. The questions were absurd. Even if they had a date or location set, they sure were not going to be telling any reporters.
Not that there was going to be a wedding. He had not figured it out yet, but there had to be a way to resolve this. There was no way on Mars or Earth he intended to marry Melissa Cahill. Until he came up with a viable excuse, he would continue to let her believe he was turning into a willing party to the transaction. As far as he was concerned, it was void from the beginning.
She walked away to speak with a reporter fromHollywood Access. Rather than drag her back, Taylor stayed where he was, waiting in the center of the carpet. An image of a bride advancing down a church aisle flashed through his mind. But the face was not Melissa’s. It was Roberta’s. His heart leaped in his chest. A smile crept over his face as he allowed the vision to continue. She would make a beautiful bride. And with that image burning in his mind, he knew the only woman going to meet him at the altar would be Roberta.
Taylor beamed at the notion. Feeling lighter, he wanted to sing. He loved her. It was so clear in his mind and heart; he was dumb struck with the idea.
A large flash blinded him. He glanced around at the commotion. Melissa was still several yards away, chatting up the paparazzi. Taylor closed his eyes and wished he was with Roberta now. Wished he could hold her, and, yes, if he were true to his heart, wished he could tell her that he loved her. That he didn’t want to live without her.
A string of flashes brought Taylor back to the present moment as Melissa returned to his side. He stepped forward, photographers following them as they made their slow journey along the red carpet. Gentle ocean breezes fluttered the train of her gown, adding drama to each shot.
Melissa was being unusually chatty with the reporters and photographers tonight.I should be listening in on what she’s saying. Who knows what lies she’s telling them?As much as he tried to steer her away from them and keep moving down the carpet, she would break free to linger.
Grasping her elbow, he said, “Come on. Let’s go.” He tried to lead her away firmly but not noticeably.
A female reporter shoved her way forward of the camera line. “Wait, one more question, please,” called out the woman. “Is there any truth to the rumor you might be in the family way?” she yelled boldly over the surrounding din. Melissa stopped in her tracks.
Silence descended, and everyone within hearing distance waited with bated breath for the answer to the question.
“Well, now, I would hate to tell the press before the daddy, but you got me there!” Melissa beamed, striking a pose, hips jutted forward to profile her flat belly for the photographers.
Taylor staggered back and away from her side, his hand cupping the side of his face.
Camera flashes lit up the area like a stage, the clicks reaching a deafening sound. Questions started flying from all over.
“How many months along?”
“When are you due?”
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
Melissa’s face glowed in the camera flashes as Taylor stared at the spectacle.
“Let’s hear from the proud papa!” someone called out, and a multitude of chuckles followed.
Taylor tried to speak. Nothing came out of his mouth. It went dry, his whole body ignited, and the loud pounding of his heart resounded in his ears. Every muscle tightened, ready to strike, but he couldn’t strike her, much as he would like to, for her audacious lie. He had not touched her sexually in over nine months. There was no way he was the father. If she was even pregnant. His mouth contorted in a sneer as if she suddenly reeked like week-old garbage. Trying to calm his breathing, his thoughts a jumble, Taylor glared at her. “Yes, let’s hear from the proud papa. So, tell us, Melissa, who is he because I know for a fact it is not my baby.” The words tumbled out of his mouth without warning.
Her face went white as she spun to face him. She strode forward and slapped him across the face so hard she teetered in her stilettos and fell off the red carpet. The photographers and TV camera crews worked their magic, capturing every nanosecond for all the world to see on the internet, that evening’s television news, and tomorrow’s tabloid front page.
“Really, Taylor, how could you do that to her?” Mrs. Reyd chastised her son, seated across from her at his kitchen table. “She’s supported you and your career so impeccably.”
Taylor stared at the label on his Heineken bottle and frowned. Why didn’t his mother get it? Why didn’t she, of all people, understand Melissa was not his type, had never been for him. The only reason she supported his career was it helped to prop up her own acting career. He couldn’t believe they’d been together for so long. “Look, Mom, I don’t want to talk about Melissa. As far as I’m concerned, she and I were done nine months ago. She doesn’t want to accept the fact. Blackmailing me with doctored photos was the wrong way to get me back. And lying to the media and the public about a fictitious baby was the last straw. Far as I’m concerned, she had her public humiliation coming.”
It had been just yesterday, but it seemed like a week had gone by. Social media, the internet, TV news, and entertainment shows had exploded with the story while Taylor returned to Pittsburgh on the first flight from Los Angeles. Laurel had flown into a hissy fit regarding the incident, her entire staff now dedicated to damage control once again. She had already hinted this public episode might cost him fans. He didn’t care. He was finally and irrevocably finished with Melissa.
A series of knocks sounded on the back door. Taylor recognized the particular sequence as being from Alex. He unlocked the door, letting the chauffeur into the kitchen.