Page 66 of Inevitable Inheritance

Apparently fate didn’t see it that way, and they literally had not been awake and alone for the next thirty-six hours. That night she hadn’t remembered falling asleep and had woken in Derrick’s old room (she refused to call ittheirroom like everyone else did) alone.

Now it was Wednesday, eight in the morning. And here she was having makeup liberally applied by Marty, who was super excited to help her get ready. Taylor, on the other hand, had lain awake staring at the ceiling most of the night, her mind whirling like a helicopter propeller at the what ifs and all the questions of how she would handle the day ahead.

When Marty was finished and Taylor’s under-eye bags—the ones that had been the size of Hefty bags just moments earlier—were no longer existent, Taylor smiled at her. “You are hired.”

“Oh, honey, that’s nothing. I have been hiding bags under my eyes for years,” Marty replied. “Especially since Dad told me he was sick, it has totally messed with my sleep.”

Taylor looked up in the mirror and watched as Marty was wrestling with her hair. They had decided that back and neat would make the best business approach. This was the first time that Marty had said anything about Simon and his cancer. Taylor was pretty certain that her wardrobe needs had proved to be a great distraction for the young Fletcher. She reached up and touched Marty’s arm, and Marty met Taylor’s eyes in the mirror. Marty had given everything to Taylor in the last few days, and though it may have helped her escape the reality of pain that was coming her way, Taylor still wanted to be there for her friend.

“I’m so sorry he is sick, Marty,” Taylor said. What else could she say? “How are you doing with it all?”

“Bad. It totally blows,” Marty said, her face becoming tight as she tried to maintain composure. “I just—” Marty’s voice cracked. She swallowed through it and continued, “I just don’t want to lose him, you know? But at the same time, I know he has suffered and he has lots of pain that he doesn’t talk about. He sat us down a few weeks ago and said no more, he doesn’t want extreme measures,” Marty hiccupped and tried to choke back the emotion, but now tears were streaming down her face, and she was wiping them away with the back of her hand.

Taylor got up from the chair and embraced Marty. She hated seeing her sad; Marty was such a bright life, such a spark. It always made Taylor happy to think of Marty; when she was having a bad day and she needed something to cheer her up, she thought of how Marty seemed to spread joy with just her presence.

“I’m going to mess you up,” Marty said into Taylor’s shoulder as she squeezed back, making no sign that she was going to let go.

“I don’t care,” Taylor said. “My stylist will fix it.”

Marty laughed in return and relaxed, releasing Taylor. “I would love to be your stylist. That would look awesome on a resume,” Marty said, grabbing a tissue from the vanity.

“I told you, you’re hired. For real, because I cannot do this without you,” Taylor said.

“Really, Taylor?” Marty asked, hopeful, smiling through the tears.

Taylor grabbed Marty’s shoulders and gave them a little shake. “Hello! I told you: You are on the books!”

Marty smiled broadly. “Oh my gosh!” Marty squealed, pulling Taylor into a tight happy hug “Thank you so much, Taylor!” Marty pushed Taylor back as quickly as she had hugged her. “Okay then, let’s get you looking fabulous because I cannot have my star and only client looking like anything but the best!”

Marty went to work again, pulling Taylor’s golden locks into a complex chignon tucked at the base of her neck. From there she was smoothed and tucked, and finally alone. Marty had ran off to do or get something and Taylor was left to stare at herself in a floor-to-ceiling mirror. As Taylor took in her complete look, she felt once again like she was looking at a powerful woman of business. And she told herself she was.

Caught up in staring, Taylor was startled when Derrick sidled up behind her in the mirror. She jumped a bit at the sight of him.

“Hey, sexy business lady,” he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Taylor wanted to tell him to back off, and though she could have because they were alone, she was ashamed of herself finding comfort in his arms.

“I don’t think I can do this, Derrick,” she whispered to him as she met his eyes in the mirror. Today was the day. All the behind-the-scenes crap she had been doing for the last several days had led up to this point. Now she wasn’t sure she could pull it off.

Derrick turned his face into her hair, kissed her head, and then smiled at her in the mirror. “You got this. You are going to walk in there and wow them.”

“But I need more than wow,” she whined softly. “I need know-how, and I just don’t have it. I don’t have any idea what the hell I am doing,” she said. Now the businesswoman in the mirror looked scared, and that scared Taylor because she knew feeling it on the inside and showing it on the outside was a dangerous combination.

“Taylor, why do you think your granddad and your dad always brought you to work? They were showing you. You were absorbing it. That is how you learn best. You are a sponge, and I think—no, I know—that once you are in that meeting room with all those pompous asses you are going to show them that you aren’t just boss in name but that you know what the fuck you are doing.”

Taylor smiled weakly at him. It was nice of him to pump her up, but she really didn’t believe any of it. The only thing she had on her side was the element of surprise because she had instructed Todd and Charlie to call a meeting, but not to inform anyone that she would be there. Of course, the rumors were flying, Todd and Charlie had reported, but they all thought she was still planning Cedric’s funeral.

Derrick turned Taylor away from the mirror, forcing her to look at him. “You got this, Taylor,” he said. “I have to go, but—”

“You aren’t coming with me?” Taylor asked and was slightly embarrassed at how shrilly her voice came out and how she had reached out to grab onto his forearm. He had been doing work stuff at his dad’s house so he could be with her, and though she was standing firm with the idea that she didn’t need him, she was finding herself dependent on his presence.

Derrick shook his head at her, a small smile ghosting his lips, and he held her face in both of his hands. “No, I have to go and get ready for work at my place,” he said, gesturing to his jeans and T-shirt. “And you, Taylor, are going to prance into that boardroom and rock those management heads for a loop.”

“Prance?”

“Yes, prance,” Derrick said, kissing her furrowed brow. “I will walk you downstairs. Henry is waiting,” he said with a slightly disgusted tone.

Taylor didn’t know what Derrick’s issue was with Henry, but she had more pressing matters at hand.

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