THE BLUE HOUSE ON THE HILL (Complete ✅)

CHAPTER 11 (PETE PUBODIN)

New always picked up Tay's mail and deposited them at his door. He was a curious man but he never scanned through them for the sake of privacy. While collecting the mail today, he tripped on the stairs and the bundle slipped from his hands to the floor. He bent down to pick them up. He paused. Frowned. There was a strange name on one envelope. It was familiar but he couldn't place where he had heard or seen it. He double-checked the address. It was to Tay's house. This wasn't a mistake.

He pulled out his phone and did a quick search online. Bingo!

Pete Pubodin is a Thai-American author. His debut novel, SHREDDED PIECES sold over 1 million copies worldwide. Other bestsellers by the author are HURTING AND LETTING GO, EDGE OF THE CLIFF, BLOODY NIGHTS, and GRAVESIDE FLOWERS...

That was all he needed to know. He had read graveside flowers last year. Kay had laughed at him for crying. It was a very depressing story. When Tay locked himself up in his office, it was to write stories that made people cry. Very on-brand with his character. Judging by the titles of his other books, they were just as bleak as graveside flowers.

It also explained why Tay had so much money when he didn't leave the house. New gathered the mail from the floor and rushed inside. He bumped into Tay at the foot of the stairs. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink.

"Sir," he greeted. His voice was a little too high. There was no use trying to suppress his excitement.

The man paused and leaned against the banister, eyebrows rising to his hairline. "What have you done this time?"

He held the shabbily arranged bundle up. "I got your mail."

"You get my mail every day. The enthusiasm is unnecessary." He continued his journey to the dining table.

New fell in step with him, shoulders knocking into Tay's. "Well you see, I think there has been a mistake at the post office."

"I'm all ears," he prompted, sounding progressively listless.

"They sent you Pete Pubodin's mail."

Tay froze between the pillars that separated the living room from the dining room. He quickly regained composure and walked to his seat. New took a quick detour to the kitchen to fetch their coffee. "Don't worry about that, I'll call the post office." He called out.

The catch was that nobody knew the man behind the Pete Pubodin name. He never did book tours or face-to-face book signings. He only sent signed books to lucky fans through his publishing house.

"I don't think you know who Pete is," New yelled from the kitchen.

"Educate me." Tay bellowed back.

He carried the mugs to the table. Handed the boss his coffee and took his seat. "He's a writer. A famous one. A great one."

Tay kept his air of nonchalance. "There could be more than one Pete Pubodin."

New took it as a personal challenge to crack him. "I'm gonna tweet about it anyway. I'll tell everyone Pete's mail got sent to my house. His fans will go bat shit."

Tay's nose tweaked. "I don't think that's wise."

New leaned forward with a shit-eating smile. "Why?"

"I've heard of this Pete man." He couldn't hold New's eyes. He stared into the cup instead. "And if it is his mail, I don't think he'd appreciate his privacy getting violated like that."

New rolled his eyes. "Cut the bullshit, Tay. I mean, Sir."

Tay threw back the rest of the coffee. "Why you think calling me by my name is the only thing wrong with that statement baffles me."