onto a gurney.
Just then Bennett’s cellphone rang in his pocket—Mozart’s No. 13. His mother! She’d never forget that because it was the same tone that had come from his pocket before the plane crash. Every moment of that event was forever seared in her memory.
Taylor pointed. “I need to answer that.”
One of the paramedics handed her the phone and then went immediately back to getting Bennett strapped in with an oxygen mask on his face. The other paramedic was busy applying a bandage to the back of Bennett’s head.
Taylor stared at the illuminated screen for a moment, wondering what she was going to say. She didn’t want to alarm his mother, but she couldn’t lie either.
She placed the phone to her ear. “He-hello?”
“Taylor, dear. Is that you?”
How did she know? “Hi, Mrs. Wade. Yeah, it’s me,” she said with a shaky breath.
“Oh, dear. Don’t tell me another one of his planes is having issues.”
“Uh. No. He uh—” Mr. Oko-guy, who stood at the door of the ambulance, waved at Taylor. “Hold on one moment, Mrs. Wade.” She looked up. “Yes?”
“They only take one person, and you do not speak Japanese.”
Meaning, she couldn’t be of any help if the doctors had questions. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
He told her they’d be at St. Jude’s so as the ambulance pulled away, she started walking at a brisk pace back toward the hotel. It took a moment to realize that Mrs. Wade was still in her hand.
Oh God. “Mrs. Wade? I’m so sorry. We’re in Tokyo, and Bennett passed out in the middle of the street.”
“What? Again? Damned that mule-headed son of mine. If he’s not careful, he’s going to beat me to the grave!”
“It’s happened before?” Taylor asked, panting as she half jogged, wishing she had not had those sadkas. She wanted to hurl.
“He works himself to the bone and hardly sleeps. This is the third time this year.”
“So there’s nothing wrong with him?”
“Of course there is; he’s an ass! Thinks he’s a damned superhero! And I told him to let someone else handle the Bali project, but no. Does he listen to his mother? Does he? That’s why he needs a woman. A strong-headed, feisty as hell, take no prisoners sort of woman to talk some sense into him and get him to hand off that project before it kills him.”
“What’s the Bali project?”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Mrs. Wade sounded surprised.
“No,” Taylor replied.
“But you’re going with him to Bali, yes?” she asked.
“Yes, but he never told me why we’re going.”
“Stubborn, paranoid…He probably thinks you’re a gold digger like all the rest,” she grumbled. “You listen to me, Taylor Reed; don’t you let my son push you around. You hear? He’s nothing but a thick-skulled man-child who’s used to getting his way. I take the blame for that. I really do. But I won’t live forever, and it’s time for him to grow up and let go of the past.”
Taylor could practically see the woman shaking her finger. There was far too much cryptic-emotional-mother-son stuff going on. “Uh. Okay. So you’re sure he doesn’t have some sort of medical condition or anything?” She turned the corner and came upon the hotel’s main entrance.
“No, dear. And when you see him, tell him that I got the tin of cookies. Very thoughtful. I also heard that you got a cookie of your own.”
How did she know that?
“I did,” Taylor said hesitantly, afraid of where this conversation might go. “I shared it with Bennett. Why?”
“Oh, Taylor. You don’t know how happy you’ve just made me.” The woman started to sob on the other end of the phone. “I just knew Ms. Luci would help.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but we’re not—”
“No need to pretend with me, dear. My son is the perfect catch,” she sniffed.
Hadn’t she just called him a thick-skulled, mule-headed man-child?
She continued, “You have no idea of the kindness and generosity he’s capable of. His big heart is exactly the reason he carries an equally large shield. That last one, Kate, nearly did him in. Too many have hurt him, but I have a feeling, Taylor, that you’ll teach him to trust again and then there’ll be no stopping him.”
Now Taylor wanted to cry. Why? She didn’t know. Probably because she’d gone from feeling like the scorned to the victimizer. How the hell had that happened? And seriously—what had Kate done to him?
She drew in a shaky breath. “I really don’t think—”
“Bennett’s father was the same way when we first met.