Chapter 119: You Really Jumped

[Chapter 119: You Really Jumped]

"I..." Ryan quickly raised his hand to cover Daddario's mouth, preventing her from making a sound. "Are you in the office?" Taylor asked again.

"I'm... downstairs," Ryan quickly thought on his feet.

"Downstairs? How come I didn't see you when I just came up? The staff said you were upstairs working on a new song. Where did you really go?" Taylor lowered his voice.

"Why are you here?" Ryan said with a grin.

At the same time, he began to shove Daddario toward the window, which was four stories high; jumping from there could easily result in broken legs or worse.

Before Taylor could respond, Ryan quickly added, "I'll head up right now." He then hung up the phone.

"Why is she here?" Daddario's voice trembled.

Ryan hurriedly put on his pants and threw on a shirt.

"You stay right here, and I'll text you when it's safe for you to come out!" Ryan had no time to explain. He peeked out of the door and looked down, taking a deep breath.

Then he leaped to the air conditioning unit on the next floor, nearly slipping off but managing to press against the wall to stabilize himself. He jumped again, landing on the second-floor unit, and with one big jump, he safely reached the ground.

Daddario stuck her head out from upstairs, dumbfounded.

"You really jumped?"

At that moment, Daddario heard footsteps outside the door.

There shouldn't have been anyone around since the place hadn't started renovations, and given Ryan's reaction, she only came to one conclusion.

Daddario quickly grabbed a piece of clothing hanging on a rack and hurriedly began to get dressed.

...

Meanwhile, Ryan entered the nightclub through the back door, once again encountering the same two guards.

"Do you know what to say?" Ryan asked as he buttoned his shirt.

The two guards immediately stepped aside and quickly nodded, "We didn't see anything."

Taylor stood inside the men's restroom, watching Erica knock on each stall door.

"Ryan isn't in here!"

"Where did he go?" Taylor furrowed his brow.

The two of them left the restroom, and as they passed the storage room, Taylor suddenly stopped. Seeing the look in Taylor's eyes, Erica quickly tried to turn the knob, only to find the door locked.

"Come out, I know you're in there," Taylor said with a cold laugh.

There was no response from inside.

"Go find the key!" Taylor whispered, but as Erica turned to leave, Ryan's voice came from down the hallway.

"My office is right here."

Taylor turned to see Ryan carrying a Roland JP synthesizer, looking as if he had just arrived.

"Come over and give me a hand," Ryan gestured to Erica.

Taylor frowned slightly, then turned and followed Ryan into his office.

...

As soon as Ryan set down his equipment, he turned and wrapped his arms around Taylor. "Aren't you sick? I didn't expect such a big surprise! How did you get here?"

"I flew, quick trip," Taylor said, her lips suddenly captured in a kiss, feeling Ryan's warmth radiating.

"Don't you have work tomorrow? Or do you want to take a few more days off?" Ryan asked casually, still holding Taylor's waist, leading her to the computer to show her his new song.

"You're sweating," Taylor said, pulling out two tissues to wipe Ryan's forehead, also casually flipping his collar, and didn't smell any trace of another woman.

"I have to rush back first thing in the morning. Just in Philadelphia, I've got to hit several stores and meet with fans," Taylor continued.

"Since you're here for the day, let's not work. I want to spend time with you," Ryan said, holding Taylor's hand.

"It's a mess in here. I'll have Erica put some of this stuff in storage," Taylor didn't engage much, suddenly extending her hand.

"What's up?"

"The key, hand it over," Taylor said. Ryan opened his drawer and handed the key to Erica, who gathered the clutter from the floor and began putting it into storage.

Until she closed the door for the last time, a head popped out from the deepest part of the storage room. It was naturally Daddario. 

...

After a quick tidy-up, Ryan, Taylor, and Erica left the nightclub and headed straight for a high-end mall in Miami.

Ryan was generous, taking Taylor into the Hermes store. He thought buying a bag would be in the five-figure range, but luxury brands like Hermes required buying a bunch of useless items first to purchase a bag. Fortunately, the staff recognized him as a celebrity, reducing the required purchases a bit, but it still made Ryan feel a pinch, though he didn't show it.

Holding the legendary Kelly bag, Taylor finally smiled; they do say a good handbag can solve problems, similar to to how men view luxury cars.

Besides the designer bags, there were various clothes and shoes. Taylor looked stunning in a pair of black Jimmy Choo heels, even though she rarely wore heels because they tended to pinch.

"So you do like this feeling," Taylor said, taking a couple of steps in front of the mirror.

With her long legs accentuated by the heels, she looked even more striking.

Ryan sat nearby, quite intrigued, admiring her elegant legs.

Taylor's aura in heels didn't fall short of a model's -- long, slender, and beautiful, a look that could last a lifetime.

As they were leaving the mall, Ryan suddenly remembered Daddario was still in the storage room; he sent her a quick text.

...

Outside the store, there was a swarm of paparazzi. Photos of Ryan and Taylor could sell for thousands of dollars, making them hot commodities in the celebrity market.

Ryan and Taylor hurried to the parking lot, where Erica had already pulled the car around. The two of them hopped into the Navigator and sped off.

"Drive around the city a bit to shake these followers off our tail," Ryan instructed.

He then booked a table at the most extravagant Italian restaurant in Miami.

...

In a serene private room, candlelight cast a warm glow, illuminating Taylor's face as the flickering light made her lips and smile even more radiant.

"Why are you being so nice to me today? You wouldn't be trying to make up for something, would you?" Taylor teased lightly.

"Well if you don't like it, we can just stop going out to eat and I won't buy you anything anymore," Ryan shrugged.

"I don't hate it," Taylor quickly shook her head.

"But you don't trust me. Taylor, you haven't changed. You said you wouldn't hire anyone to look over me, but look at what you've done? You flew in just like that." Ryan frowned.

"I just thought others wouldn't take care of you as well," Taylor quickly explained.

"Is it care or surveillance? Erica coming by my place every morning? She even rummaged through my trash. You don't think I noticed, do you? I'm starting to feel suffocated here."

"Let's be serious, this really is a psychological issue that needs addressing," Ryan escalated the conversation.

"I'm fine," Taylor mumbled, though her tone lacked conviction.

"You're stressed, which I get, but this isn't a healthy way to cope. How about this, I'll set up an appointment with a therapist for you to talk to, just a casual chat."

"I'm just a bit insecure, and you seem too close to Daddario," Taylor hesitated, spilling her feelings.

"Fine, I'll fire Daddario right away, but you have to talk to a therapist," Ryan replied.

If she really goes to a psychologist, even if she is not sick, she will be diagnosed with some inexplicable "personality disorder." As for Daddario, she is too big a target around him, and he will be exposed sooner or later. To be safe, it is better to cut any public ties.

"Alright, just let Daddario stick around, I don't want to hinder your work..." Taylor thought it over; she realized Daddario still needed to help Ryan with his affairs, and she didn't want her issues to affect him.

"If that'll put your mind at ease, I don't mind being a little busy," Ryan said softly.

Taylor finally relented and nodded.

"Ryan, I'm sorry," Taylor quietly admitted, feeling remorseful.

*****

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