“Hey, Taylor,” he said shyly, which was strange because Derrick Fletcher did not rock shy, ever.
Taylor turned away, groaning in disgust, and looked up to the ceiling of what must be Derrick’s bedroom. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?’ she asked quietly, then turned to him again. “It really happened didn’t it?”
His smile slid slowly off his face. He shook his head, “No, Tay. It, uh, it wasn’t a dream. It all happened.”
“Don’t call me Tay.”
Derrick’s eyes widened slightly, but he just shrugged, “Okay.”
Taylor sat up and drew her knees to her chest, hugging them through the comforter, and rested her chin on top. Her eyes scanned the room again. “Is this your place?”
“Yeah,” Derrick said, setting his coffee and iPad aside.
“Who saw us come in?”
“No one. I have a private elevator and a private garage. The elevator goes from the garage to my place, no other stops in between, and there are no cameras in the garage or the elevator.”
“When did you become camera shy?” Taylor asked icily.
Derrick took a deep breath, “Look, Taylor, I’m sorry about—”
Taylor held up her hands, instantly stopping whatever Derrick was going to say. Whether he was sorry about last night, something that happened in the sandbox as kids, or anything in between, she was not interested in going there now. “What’s the plan? Are we still leaving tonight?”
Derrick nodded, “Yeah, I was just planning out a route here,” he said, pointing at the iPad, “I already went to the marina and made the manager aware that I will be coming an hour after closing.”
“Is that an iPad?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah.” Derrick responded slowly, sounding confused, like he was waiting for Taylor to jump on him about that too.
“I saw people in the coffee shop with those—I’ve never used one.”
“Really?” Derrick asked. It was as if Taylor had said the sky was purple.
“Can I have some coffee?” Taylor asks.
“You don’t like coffee,” Derrick answered, though it was more like a confused question than a statement.
Oh, now he is going to pretend to know me. Puh-lease.“Yeah, Derrick, I do. And I have total jet lag, as well as emotional trauma, so I’m having a hard time waking up and processing all this shit. So, please, can I have some coffee?”
“Sorry,” Derrick said, making his way to a Keurig station on a small table in the room, “I thought you didn’t, I mean you used to—”
“I’ve changed, Derrick,” she said. Then before she could put her filter on, she added, “You know, preferences change over nine years.”
Taylor watched Derrick stiffen at her comeback. She had said it on purpose, to see if she could get a reaction. And once she did it wasn’t as satisfying as she had thought it would be. She was behaving badly. She had, after all, agreed to come here with him. And even though it was in order to piss off Charlie, Todd, and Simon, he had helped her. Then they would go to—
Oh shit, she was going to be totally alone with him for who knew how long. Suddenly all the deals she had made from the night before, and the reality of what she had agreed to flooded her: Cedric’s death. The debt. Preston Corp. CEO. Financial assistance from Fletcher Enterprises.
And marrying Derrick.
“Oh man,” Taylor moaned, pressing her face into the top of her knees. What the hell had she done?
The touch of a hand on her arm made her jump, and then she looked up and saw Derrick hopping back, trying not to spill the mug of coffee he had made her.
“You didn’t hear me,” he said. “I asked how you took it?”
She reached for the mug. “Black will be fine for now. I need to clear up.”
She sipped the sweet dark liquid, and Derrick just stood there. It was weird, and it was quiet, and Taylor didn’t know what to do, so she filled the silence.