Page 86 of Inevitable Inheritance

Taylor glared at Derrick, aggravation clear on her face. “All of it,” she blurted. “Look, I know it was foolish and reckless and I could have been hurt.”

Derrick was stunned, “Yes, it—”

“But …” Taylor continued, and Derrick rolled his eyes. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy—nothing ever was with her. “My intentions were good, like you said earlier,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

“Yes, they were good. But come on, Taylor, what did you think would happen? Did you think me taking you from a club would prove to the world that I’ve grown up, taken responsibility, and left that stupid kid behind?” Derrick asked, exasperated. He shook his head, “Everybody thinks we live on easy street! We got money, we got power, life is easy, and it’s ours for the taking. That is what they see when our names and faces come on the news, and I spent years confirming that in their eyes. I will be the bad guy forever. I will always look irresponsible.Iwill always be the one at fault. Look at them today, they are saying I am robbing you of your well-deserved freedom, holding you back, sheltering you. Not one report came in saying I saved you from disaster. Only you and I see that.”

“So, how is marrying me going to solve that?” Taylor countered. “We could cheat on each other, get divorced—”

“Neither of those things will happen in our marriage,” Derrick cut in, his words soft in volume but almost menacing in tone. Taylor stilled at the sound; it was more a promise than a threat.

“Even if it doesn’t happen, Derrick—”

“It won’t.”

“Stop interrupting me! Even if it doesn’t, they will constantly speculate and try to make it seem like it has or will. So how does us marrying solve anything?”

“You don’t get it,” Derrick said, looking down and shaking his head.

“Enlighten me,” Taylor said, but she was interrupted by the timer, letting them know the food was ready.

“Let’s eat,” he said and went to cut into the lasagna.

“It needs to sit for ten minutes,” Taylor exclaimed, trying to stop Derrick.

“Taylor, it’s a big mash up of noodles and sauce. If it slides now or in ten minutes, it will still taste the same,” he informed her. He continued cutting off pieces for himself and Taylor, pulling her chair out, and pouring her the wine that had chilled.

They started eating, and then Derrick cleared his throat. “I’m sorry too,” he said as he stared at his lasagna.

“For which part?” she mocked, throwing his stupid remark from earlier back at him.

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” Derrick said, looking back up to Taylor as he spoke, trying to convey with his gaze how badly he felt.

“Derrick, you didn’t make me cry. Coming back here and having all this shit, that made me—”

“No, not now. Before, when I didn’t show up after my mom. You know, after she, uh, yeah, well, I’m sorry.” Even now he had trouble saying his mother had died. It hurt that she was gone, and it hurt more that he hadn’t been there. “I never, ever wanted to hurt you, Taylor.”

* * *

Taylor’s stomachdropped at Derrick’s apology. How could he have known that, and why was he bringing it up now?

“What do you mean?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, now keenly interested in every bit of lasagna on her plate.

But Derrick reached over and pulled her chin up with one finger, shifting so he was in her line of vision despite her attempts to look away. “Last night when I brought you home, you said you had cried, and that—”

Oh crap,Taylor thought, she couldn’t remember anything coming out of her mouth. This could be bad, really bad. “Oh God, what did I say?”

Derrick looked at her, completely apologetic. “You said that you cried and cried, and that you saw me in the tabloids,” Derrick answered her.

Taylor let out a breath, “Oh good.” That wasn’t as bad as things she could have said.

“And that I broke your heart.”

“Oh fuck.”

Derrick started to blush and look away, and Taylor got a funny feeling there was more. He used to do that when he was hiding information, stuff he knew he really shouldn’t say. She had gotten so much information knowing that about him and prodding him until he gave.Maybe he is just embarrassed over this conversation,she thought, but she had to know for sure.

“What else did I say?” When Derrick didn’t respond, Taylor persisted. “You’re hiding something, I can tell. You’re blushing, and that means you know more. Spill it,” she demanded.

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