THE HEATHER BAY GAZETTE
— your leading source of Highland News
FROM THE HIGHLANDS TO HOLLYWOOD - BUT HAS JETT CARTER’S LATEST SQUEEZE FORGOTTEN WHERE SHE CAME FROM?
by celebrity correspondent Scarlett Scott
Her daughter Lexie may be living the high life in Hollywood, but for Heather Bay’s Samantha Steele (49), reality is very different.
“I just want to speak to my baby one last time,” Samantha said, speaking exclusively to The Heather Bay Gazette from her hospital bed. “It’s been so long since I heard from her. I’m just worried that it’s going to be too late.”
Fire-raiser Lexie Steele (33), who left her Heather Bay cottage last summer under mysterious circumstances, has been hitting the headlines in Hollywood, thanks to her highly publicized romance with actor Jett Carter. But her mother claims the former admin assistant at the family’s distillery hasn’t been in touch with her since she left the country without explanation.
“Not so much as a phone call,” Samantha said, wiping her eyes. “I’ve never met Jett. I didn’t even know Lexie knew him until I saw the photos of them together. I’ve reached out to her so many times, but she never answers my calls. It’s like she just doesn’t care.”
And for Samantha, who was admitted to Raigmore Hospital in Inverness early last week, time could be running out to get in touch with her delinquent daughter.
“I don’t know how much time I have left,” she told this reporter, looking lovingly at the photo of Lexie she keeps by her bed. “I just want to see her one more time. To tell her how much I love her, even though she’s broken my heart.”
It’s unknown how long Lexie has been seeing Carter (33), who is the son of Academy Award Winner Charles Carter, and who rose to fame at the age of 19, with his critically acclaimed role in the blockbusterIslanders. Sources close to the star, however, claim the actor is “super serious” about his Scots-born girlfriend, and that wedding bells could be on the horizon for the pair.
“Jett is ready to settle down,” said the source, who declined to be named. “He’s keen to put his wild days behind him and start a family. And Lexie is the one he wants to do it with.”
“My only wish now is to live long enough to see my girl get married to the love of her life,” says Samantha Steele, sadly. “But if Lexie won’t speak to me, I can’t make her. She has so much now that I suppose I can’t blame her for not wanting to be bothered with her mum. I’m just sad that she seems to have forgotten where she came from. She wasn’t raised like that.”
Jett finishes reading the article then looks up at me, his expression inscrutable.
We’re crammed into a toilet cubicle together, the phone held between us while the party continues outside the door. As soon as I saw the headline on Asher’s phone — and the byline — I knew I had to get out of that room so I could read it in private. Unfortunately for me, though, when I whispered to Jett that I was feeling sick, he insisted on accompanying me. Which is why he got to read Scarlett Scott’s complete destruction of my character at the same time I did.
The Gazette has really gone downhill since I left the Highlands.
“I’m not 33,” I say defensively. “I’m 25. Okay, 26. And three-quarters. Scarlett’s just written that because she hates me. And mum isn’t 49, either. Shewishesshe was 49.”
I laugh hollowly, as if the thought of mum having had me at 16 is the biggest takeaway from this article.
“I know you’re 30, Alexandra,” Jett says, frowning. “It was in the paperwork from the P.I. Asher hired.”
“Oh. Okay. But that’s still three years less than she’s trying to claim,” I say, jabbing my finger at the screen. “That’s outrageous. Can I sue her, I wonder? Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”
I’m deflecting here, of course. I’m not going to sue Scarlett Scott for casually adding 3 years to my age. I’ll just never forgive her for it, is all. Right now, though, all I want to do is distract Jett from all the other things she’s said about me.
It’s not working, though.
“So, is this true?” he says, scrolling back through the article, which is illustrated with a photo of mum looking sad in what looks like a hospital bed, next to one of the shots of Jett and I fake-kissing on the beach. They do look pretty good, I have to admit. “Is your mom really sick?”
“Well, she’s got her hair and makeup done, and she’s wearing a silk negligee rather than a hospital gown,” I tell him, tugging at my dress in an attempt to relieve the stranglehold it has on my stomach. “So Ithinkshe’s fine. Can we go back to the party now? Your dad will be wondering where we are?”
The line between his eyes deepens when I mention his dad, but Jett doesn’t budge.
“Or we could just stay in this bathroom all night,” I sigh, leaning back against the wall in a bid to find a position that’s easier to breathe in. “Up to you.”
“Why does it describe you as a ‘fire-raiser’?” he asks, puzzled. “Who is this Scarlett, anyway? She can’t be a real journalist, surely?”
“Oh, she is,” I assure him. “She used to be a food and drinks writer, but it looks like she’s switched to fiction writing these days. And, ‘latest squeeze’? I mean, seriously? Why do people keep calling me that? Who even says that in real life? As for ‘celebrity corespondent’, the Gazette has literallyone‘correspondent’ and she’s it. I don’t know who she thinks she is, seriously.”
“And the fire thing?” Jett’s expression is stony. I don’t think he really cares much about Scarlett’s writing credentials, somehow. “That’s kind of a weird thing to make up about someone, don’t you think?”
“I’m… um… I’m feisty?” I say, shrugging. “Look, I don’t know. From the way this is written, though, I’m guessing Scarlett’s considering a career writing thrillers or something? ‘Mysterious circumstances’, my ass! And calling me an ‘admin assistant?’ I was practically running that place, and she knows it. I gave her a guided tour once and everything.”
