A/N: Please ignore the typos and incorrect usages of the ' in this chapter. It's been a bear to type and lots of extra stress at work this week. Anyway, I hope you like it. This is for Lori who I didn't forget. I DID have this typed Wednesday. I had some problems getting it to my beta, then I had to change some things. I guess at some point you just have to publish them, flaws and all... Fingers crossed...................

Disclaimer: I don't own these people... not that they are really people... but if they were I wouldn't own them.

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Chapter 12: The New Man

Just like she promised, Taylor called every other day. Her first call came when she first arrived at the Days Inn and settled. Since she wasn't exactly sure how long she would be in LA, it seemed the most reasonable to just stay in a hotel for the time being. Until she got her bearings, or until her memory miraculously came back and she could go home.... not that the last scenario seemed very likely.

Her calls started out short, like two acquaintances trying to find things to say. Then one night about two weeks into her exile, she woke Ryan up at two a.m. She was so excited that she couldn't wait until the appointed day - or even daylight- to tell him. He was groggy when he first answered the phone, but quickly sobered up upon hearing her infectious excitement.

She had remembered something.

Prom- at least she thought it was probably prom. She explained to him that she remembered wearing a sexy little red dress, and she thought her date was Korean. She didn't recall much, but did say that she remembered being in a large, dark room surrounded by people. She remembered screaming and Ryan running to her. That was it.

Of course, she had lots of questions...

"Why was I screaming?"

"Where were we?"

"What happened to my Korean date?"

"Why did you run to me first?"

"Were we friends?"

"What happened next?"

He answered the best he could....

"You were screaming because some one had stolen a lot of money from you."

"We were at The Bait Shop. It was a local, I guess, teen club. You rented it out for the after prom party. You were social chair and kinda took the job a little, okay, a lot seriously."

"I don't know what happened to your date. I never saw him again. Not even at the Korean restaurant, which was really weird since I always saw him there before."

"Why did I run to you first? I'm not sure. You were screaming, and I had to help. Apparently, I have some sort of hero complex."

"We weren't exactly friends. You were more friends with Seth and Summer."

It made Taylor happy to know that at least she had friends even if Ryan hadn't been one of them. After her short stay with her mother she wasn't entirely sure.

The last question was one Ryan didn't want to answer. Beating up Volchok wasn't one of his proudest nights, and it lead to one of the worst moments of his life. Still, she had the right to know. "After I left you at the prom, I went to this person's--" he strained the word out. Truthfully, he could never see Kevin Volchok as a person. Not after what he did. "--house. It turned out I was right, and he was the one who stole the money. "

"So you called the police?"

"Oh no. That would have been smart." he said more bitterly than he meant. He had no idea the wounds were so fresh to him. "No, I 'persuaded' him to return the money. And he did."

"Just like that?"

"Well no. He ended up in the emergency room."

"Wow, you really wanted that money back."

"It wasn't the money." His tone, flat and quick, told Taylor that there was much more to the story than he was telling and that he wasn't going to tell her then. "It had nothing to do with you." he added when he noticed her quietness. He didn't want her to think he was like her mother and was keeping her life from her.

After that call, she started calling daily and talked hours on end. Mainly she talked. He listened. It was an arrangement they both liked. A few weeks into her stay, Ryan started sending her money despite her protests to stop. To make him stop (and to pay him back), she got a job at a very small antique dealership which specialized in very rare pieces. If they didn't have it, they could find it. Taylor loved her job, even the irony of it. Lots of customers would come in wanting to know the history of a certain piece and it was Taylor's job to tell it. She learned quickly and could tell anyone everything they wanted to know. Her own history, unfortunately, was still a jumbled, cloudy mess.

It was at her job where she met the man who would soon become her landlord. She had been working at the register (cleaning, straightening, reading ads for apartments) when this man approached her. He was nice looking with model features and floppy blond hair. It reminded her of an old picture Ryan had recently sent her of him when he had first come to Newport. His eyes, however, were the first part of his anatomy to catch her attention. They sparkled when they noticed her like they were surprised at first, then elated for some reason. His eyes held some mystery, some recognition. If she had been back in Newport, she would have sworn this person was someone she had known and just forgotten. But in LA, it was near impossible.

The man graciously allowed her to rent out his guest house which was to the back and right of his large three story bachelor pad, as he called it. The guest house was beautiful. It held two bedrooms (one a deep, royal blue. The other a warm mocha). The ten foot ceilings gave her a much needed sense of space with sky lights stretching across the living room. The kitchen was modern. All the appliances in the entire house were new. Taylor knew he wasn't getting a fair deal. He could ask so much more for rent, but he insisted that just her smile was enough to make up the difference.

A few days after moving into the guest house, Taylor called Ryan at their appointed time, right around 9:30 p.m. He was already in bed, wife beater and sweats in check. His room was on the second floor of the Roberts/Cooper estate. It was a deep blue with black accents and a huge flat screen. "Hey, Taylor." his face lit up as it always did when she called. "What's up?"

"Hi Ryan." she said sweetly, as she strutted across her new apartment in her thigh-high, silky red gown. She wasn't sure how she was going to do this. "Uh Ryan, I have something to tell you."

He didn't like the edginess in her voice. His previously bright smile, the smile Taylor's voice always put there, began to fade. This wasn't going to be good. "What is it?"

She paused dramatically, sitting down next to him as he slept on the couch. "Ryan- I've met someone."

Breath escaped his lungs so fast he thought he would suffocate. He fell back against the pillows for support. He had known that her finding herself another boyfriend was always a possibility. Hell, they hadn't really even decided to be exclusive since she left for LA. He thought it was implied, but maybe not. What didn't make sense about it all was how well they had been getting along lately-- or so he thought. Maybe it had just been wishful thinking? Maybe some deep place in his mind thought that if he could convince himself that she was ok… that she still loved him... then he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of not protecting her in the earthquake?

A bitter taste swirled around his mouth. She'd probably fallen for some Hollywood type. The type that only wanted you for sex then never called again. No, someone probably had given her a pack of gum and she saw that act of kindness as love. Or, maybe she'd gone gay. It wouldn't be the first ex he'd ever had to change teams. Or, hell, with his luck, he figured it was probably Oliver.

"Ryan?" Taylor spoke when he didn't. "Are you still there?"

He grunted. His throat was dry and, frankly, he didn't feel the need to speak to her right then.

"Ryan... just say something."

"So. You met someone." He tried to hold inside the distance he felt. What good would it do?

"Uh-huh. He's so cute and smart..."

I'll kill him, he thought passively.

"And has long hair...."

Ryan's hand instinctively went up touch his short cut and moaned. He would have grown it back out to his long-banged glory days if he'd known that was what she preferred.

".. And the cutest little nose."

Well, I'm done for it then, he sighed while reaching for his rather large honker.

"He's hairy and soft and cuddly. Cute."

"Yeah, we covered the cute."

She giggled. "Oh Jack-- stop licking me."

"That's it." he said under his breath. It was one thing for her to basically dump him, but it was another for her to have him there and to rub it his face.

"Wait! Ryan, wait!"

"What?" he huffed. His hand all ready to close the phone. "Go get licked by your new boy toy."

The sounds of her laughing, not a mean laugh, but an amused one, made him take a second before he shut the phone. He held it back up to his ear in enough time to hear, "Who would have thought? Ryan Atwood: Jealous of a poor little puppy dog."

"Puppy?" When it hit him that she'd been playing him, he simultaneously wanted to punch a wall, spank Taylor (which could fun), or kiss with one of those kisses that make you feel like you are going to faint when it's over. He began to laugh along with her and unclenched his fist. "God. You're evil, Taylor."

"Aren't I?" her voice full of triumph. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. So, you were really jealous, huh?"

"No, I was not. I-uh- was-- um just." He thought this was just the type of situation Taylor, even the old Taylor, loved. Making you squirm. And he was squirming good. Not wanting to stammer around like an idiot anymore, he thought it best to change the subject. "You said his name was Jack?"

"Yeah, and he's some sort of mutt I found on the street. He looked lost and I could relate. We've bonded."

"And your landlord lets you keep him?"

"Yeah, he said that since the dog made me smile, and that was rare, that I could keep him as long as I named the dog after him."

"So, your landlord's name is Jack?" At that moment, Ryan realized that he didn't really know much about her landlord. She'd only lived there a few days. This was the first time he'd ever heard any part of his name. Taylor just usually said 'my landlord' in passing.

"Uh-huh."

"So, what's his last name?"

"Hess."

A frank expletive flew through Ryan's head as he nearly dropped the phone. It had been a while since he'd thought of Jack Hess-- former dean of discipline at Harbor and ex-lover of the previously under-aged Taylor Townsend.

"We met at the antique shop." she went on, not really noticing his hesitation. She was caught up in her story. "Apparently, he's a huge collector. He asked if I was new in LA. I asked if it was that obvious. He laughed and said that it was ok. That he had been there himself. Then he said that if I needed a place to rent, I guess he saw the mounds of apartment ads on the counter in front of me, that he had a guest house."

"You don't say."

"He does something for the school system here, I'm not sure what."

"Uh-huh" Ryan replied, wheels already turning in his head. If the good Dean had sex with a teenage Taylor there was no telling what he'd do now that she wasn't jail bait.

"He's a little... weird though. I mean, the first time he saw me, he called me Taylor. I thought, 'Oh heck, someone else knows me and I'm clueless', but he said that he saw it on my name tag. I can be so paranoid at times. But still-- he looks at me sometimes like he knows me. I didn't ask him about it because, I mean really, who wants their only friend in LA to think they 'aren't there', know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he answered, his mind racing. "I'm coming to LA."

"What? Ryan, now?" she flushed, taken aback by his sudden announcement. "Why? Because of Mr. Hess? There is nothing between us. I was just kidding you before with the puppy thing."

The way she said 'Mr. Hess' made his skin crawl and he tried not to picture her calling him that in bed during some sort of not natural sex game. Seth had told him once that Taylor said the dean had schooled her on the Kama Sutra. "No." he said, his voice tight. "No, not just that. I've wanted to come see you for a few weeks now. Tomorrow is Saturday. Is that too soon? Maybe I could drive up? Stay the weekend?"

"Um." She didn't know what to say."Ok, sure, I guess. That would be--- good."

"Good." he mirrored her.

Taylor gave him the directions. They talked a few minutes after that, but neither was really involved in the conversation so they decided to hang up and see each other the next day.

Frustrated, Ryan shut his phone and placed it back on the bedside table. The clock said 10:26 pm. No way he could sleep now. He rolled out of bed and began packing. He would leave at sun up, giving him enough time to get there early, but not early enough where he looked like a crazy stalker. He couldn't believe that out of the millions of people in Los Angeles Jack Hess just 'happened' to run across Taylor and just 'happened' to know she needed a place to stay. It wasn't sitting right with him. Ryan planned on talking with ole Jack, catch up as it were, let him know that if he tried anything with Taylor, the punch at the Kick-off carnival not even two years before would look like a love tap.