Page 103 of Inevitable Inheritance

“I think you should take more time—”

“No,” she said, cutting off her brother, “I know what I need, and what I need is something to keep me busy.”

The siblings stared each other down for about ten seconds, but to Taylor it felt like years.

“Please don’t treat me like a child about this,” Marty whispered to her brother; it was clear she was trying not to cry.

Taylor put a hand on Derrick’s back and reminded him, “Derrick, this is her expertise.” She gave Marty a small smile from behind him.

“It will be symbolic, and then we can all move forward,” Marty quipped as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Derrick nodded. “I know you can handle it. I just don’t want it to be too much.”

“I am the queen of delegation, Derrick.”

Derrick laughed for the first time in days. “So true. You got it, but ask for help.”

Marty smiled. Taylor knew she was looking for a way to keep her mind busy, and she hoped this helped her get her smile back.

Taylor and Derrick worked from home the week following Simon’s death. Taylor spent most of the time signing things to get Preston Corp. back on track. All the ideas and brainstorming she had done were finally going to come to fruition now that she was Taylor Preston-Fletcher and was able to legally sign things into action. The stock margins were rising for her family corporation every day, the reports were positive, and Taylor actually felt excited to go back to work and see what other things Preston Corp. could accomplish.

Derrick was a nervous wreck.

It was his first day back to the office and he wouldn’t say it, but his behavior was not the smooth criminal he had portrayed to Taylor over the last few weeks. He had pulled out and put back three different suit jackets before Taylor intercepted.

“Let me help,” she said, coming into the large closet behind him.

Derrick turned to her with relief flashing over his face. “I don’t know what my problem is,” he said, totally befuddled by his own behavior.

“It is a big day,” Taylor said, “and how lucky am I to be able to pick out my husband’s power suit for his big day?”

“I like it when you call me that,” he said, smiling and now distracted.

Taylor knew he would be. He had been calling her “his wife” for days, and it took adjusting but she didn’t flinch when she heard it now. And if she was being honest, she kind of liked it.

Taylor turned to him with her outfit selection and found him eyeing her strangely.

“What?” she asked reevaluating her choices.

“Are you happy, Taylor?”

Taylor wasn’t ready for that bomb, and she wasn’t sure how to answer. “Uh …” was the best she could come up with.

“Never mind,” Derrick said, casting his eyes down and moving to take the clothes from her.

“No, I mean yes,” Taylor said, moving the clothes from his grasp, forcing him to stay with her. She took a deep breath.

“It was not what I wanted,” she started, and anger flared over Derrick’s face. “But, I am happy,” she said, and that was the truth. She had lost the stress of what she was going to do with their situation; it was done. She no longer needed to find a way to get things done at Preston Corp., she was married and was making it happen. “And the sex is okay,” she said, shrugging.

“Okay?” Derrick asked, eyebrows raised. “The sex is just ‘okay’?” he asked, coming toward her with a swagger that said he was ready to prove otherwise.

“No way,” she said, holding a hand out to him. “We will be late.”

“We own the companies. I think it will be okay,” he told her, removing the clothing from her hands. “Please, Mrs. Fletcher, let me exceed your expectations,” he mock pleaded, grabbing her to him.

And then his phone went off, the ringtone he had set for work, and Derrick swallowed hard. All the tension returned to his face full force.

“You can do this, Derrick,” she said to him, and the irony of the role reversal was not lost on her.

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