particularly upbeat.
When James doesn’t answer or come into the room, I call out, “I’m kidding.”
He peeks his head around the corner. I can’t tell whether he’s relieved or disappointed. “I brought your stuff from home.”
“Where’s my mom?” I ask, confused. She was the one who was supposed to get my supplies.
“She stayed at your place to throw off the reporter.”
“That guy showed up again?” I demand.
James shakes his head. “This time it was a woman named Rachel Perry. She’s been trying to reach you through your mom for weeks, but your mom has been putting her off.”
So, my mom brought two reporters with her? I have a vision of her wearing a sandwich board at the airport that said, “Tara is in Oregon. I’m going to see her. Why don’t you come, too?” How many more surprises are waiting in the wings?
James lets Penny off her leash and she runs at me like I’m a big steak dinner. How have I lived without a dog in my life? Everybody needs this kind of unconditional love.
After pulling in my suitcase, James goes back out to the hall for the grocery bags he brought with him. While unloading them into the refrigerator, he asks, “Do you know Rachel Perry?”
I shrug. “I guess. I mean I never spent too much time reading what was said about me, but my impression of her is that she’s pretty cool for having such a lousy job.”
“She says she wants to tell your side of the story.”
“No way. If I talk, I’m just going to keep the rags interested in me.”
“She told us that Romaine named his new album Tomaine.” His face scrunches up in a cringe.
“Why would he do that?” I grab at the roots of my hair like I’m going to pull it out.
“She said that as soon as it’s released, every journalist in the world is going to be looking to interview you.”
I want to cry. Don’t I have the same rights as other people to basic privacy? I left the business, I left Romaine, I stepped out of the spotlight. Why does it keep following me? “What do you think of her?” I ask, wondering if James gets the same creepy vibe from the press that I do.
“She seemed genuine enough. Your mom was pissed, though.”
“I feel so bad that she’s had to deal with these people. I just don’t know how to get them to go away.”
Popping the top off a beer bottle, James says, “It doesn’t sound like they’re leaving any time soon.” He offers me the bottle, but I shake my head. The thought of putting anything in my stomach right now makes me nauseated.
“It sounds like you think I should talk to her.”
He crosses the room and sits down on the couch. “I think that if you want to control what information comes out, you might have to. Since you can’t rewrite the past, you’re going to have to do something. And so far, running away from them doesn’t appear to be working.”
Before I can comment, there’s a knock on the door. “Room service,” a male voice calls out.
I turn to James and whisper, “Did you order room service?”
He shakes his head while putting his fingers to his lips to keep me quiet. Then he stands by the door and looks through the peephole. His whole body tenses up. His hands tighten into fists.
He turns around and quietly says, “It’s the same man who chased me and your mom this morning.”
I push him out of the way and look for myself.
What in the hell is he doing here?
Chapter Twenty
Ruby
The two women whisper conspiratorially at the front desk. “I’ve managed to lay eyes on both men and if you ask me, neither of them looks like my idea of a Hollywood reporter,” Ruby tells Chris.
“What do they look like?”
“Graham Schmidt is about seventy years old. He wears a sweater vest and carries a crossword puzzle book. Syd Byerly looks dangerous, like he’s central casting’s dream for a nineteen-twenties mobster.”
“What’s that look like?” Chris asks uncertainly.
“Like a fifty-year-old thug, give or take a year.” She elaborates, “I bet he used to beat up kids for their lunch money before turning to bigger prey.”
“Lovely. Syd Byerly is probably our guy then.”
“That would be my guess,” Ruby agrees.
“So, what do we do now?”
“We do our best to keep track of him. If you see someone matching his description walk out the front door, go after him.”
Chris looks decidedly nervous. “But what if he