Page 53 of Beauty & Chaos

Something is not sitting right with me. I get that Travis would’ve been impacted as a kid hearing his friend share such a shocking story. The question is, was it just a story?

Kids—especially celebrity kids—have a history of telling stories. I don’t mean to bethatperson, but as a journalist, you have to stay in the question, not jump to conclusions.

In the age of engagement, it’s so easy for those in my industry to run with a story because it’s good clickbait.

That’s immoral.

So, I need to find out more about Leo’s son and what kind of person he is. That will paint a picture, at least, of whether he might’ve been a narcissistic child looking for sympathy or to manipulate Travis. Who, for the record, I don’t see as someone easily controlled but may have been as a child.

Which brings me back to the question about why he would be so passionate about this story.

And protecting me.

I see the personal connection, but that’s usually not a strong enough driver.

I wouldn’t call Travis selfish, although I suspect he is, but he’s not exactly a philanthropist. Trust me, I looked.

He’s a very wealthy and successful businessman, but the only donations I saw or found that he’s declared are to a charity that benefits his brand reputation. Something about the mangroves near one of his courses in Florida.

Not exactly starving kids in Africa.

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“Find out all you can on Terrance Taylor.” I tell Scott the next morning.

“Who is he?”

“Leo Taylor’s son. He’ll be in his early thirties now. I’ve found a few photos of him on the red carpet with his father. A few paparazzi shots.”

He’s a cute kid.

Dressed in designer everything, his hair swept back, and he looked bored to be in front of the camera.

“What are we looking for?” Scott crosses his arms, standing in the doorway of my office.

I tap my foot in the air, my legs crossed as I sit behind my desk. All morning I’ve been wondering how I tell my team about this anonymous tip.

Sure to his word, Travis sent someone who showed up this morning and introduced himself as my private security guard from Barrett Security.

“I’ll be discrete and shadow you when you leave the office. Otherwise, I’ll be just hanging around in the front office.”

“Help yourself to the lunchroom and facilities....”

“The name is Decker, ma’am. US Marine.” He tipped his non-existent hat at me, then headed over to the rest of the team to introduce himself.

Gulp.

Surely this was overkill.

“I’ve had an anonymous tip from someone who knew Terrance. As a child.” I tell Scott, answering his question. “It’s dark. He says Terrance was abused as a kid.”

“Sexually?”

Jesus.

“Yes, sexually.” God, do I have to spell it out? “This is horrible stuff, Scott. I don’t know how we are going to quantify it without getting him to go on record, but after all this time he might.”

“Have you reached out to him?”