“You have got to be kidding me,” Taylor said, raising her face to the roof of the plane.
Simon continued, “Polls show if Derrick settled down, got married, and had a family, he would be taken more seriously.”
Taylor looked back to Simon, then at Derrick, who had now taken an intense interest in the toe of his shoes. “So marry him to someone else. Find him someone. Find him a poor someone and pay her off,” Taylor offered dramatically, spinning for flare. “That would be a true Cinderella story: Derrick saves Lady Jane from her life of poverty. I can see the stock margin rising now! Hell, I’ll be the flower girl.”
Taylor saw Derrick’s mouth twitch up at the corners as she took each man in, but still he kept his eyes on his shoes. The three older gentlemen just shook their heads. “It would never work, Taylor,” Todd remarked, “and you know it. Payoffs don’t guarantee silence. And once the deal is done, the girl in question would just go and get more money spilling the deal to the press and anyone who would listen.”
“So find someone the old-fashioned way. That way you don’t have to lie,” Taylor said. Four sets of eyes looked at her like she was now the crazy one. “What? It happens. It happens all the time!”
“Not to men set to inherit a net worth of close to two billion dollars,” Simon pointed out.
Taylor rubbed her hands over her face. She needed more ideas, she needed help; she needed something.
Then she turned to the uncharacteristically silent Derrick, “Why are you all for this?” she questioned him. “Don’t you think this is stupid? Don’t you want to get married your own way?”
Derrick looked to Taylor, “I think—”
“No, see, that’s the problem,” she said in a high-pitched, hysterical voice, gesturing to all present, “nobody is thinking here. Nobody has any idea what they are saying.” she paced back and forth across the large cabin, which was feeling more and more confining by the second. “I am abducted from my home, forced to come here, and you guys tell me all these things. Is Ashton Kutcher trying to bring Punk’D back? Huh? Because this one could win Oscars.”
Taylor stopped pacing and stood in front of Simon, “Now, let me guess. The deal is I marry Derrick, and you’ll help the company?”
“Yes,” Simon replied, sounding relieved that Taylor was finally seeing the light.
“Well, forget it. I’ll give you a high-interest repayment. I’ll give you fifty percent shares. I’ll give you all our property in Abu Dhabi. But I am not doing it.”
“I don’t want or need those things, Taylor …”
“No. Of course you don’t. You need a wife for your son, the one who can’t even say anything for himself,” she said, pointing at Derrick.
“Taylor,” Charlie said hesitantly, interrupting her tirade, “there is one more thing.”
Taylor whirled around. “What?” she hissed. “What else could you possibly want from me? Do you need me to give birth to a unicorn too?”
Taylor heard a bark of laughter and turned to see Derrick biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing out and his father sending him a stern glare.
Charlie went on, rubbing his neck with one hand and jingling change in his pocket with the other. Nervous movements, this was bad. “The decree about the business being run by a Preston—” he said as if trying to refresh her memory about something she could never have possibly forgotten about. He was stalling, Taylor realized.
“What about it?” she said through her teeth.
“It was written a long time ago. Many, many years ago,” Charlie continued. Taylor raised her eyebrows, conveying she was waiting but her patience wouldn’t last much longer. “It was a different time then, things were run by men …”
“You have to be married before you can take over the company,” Todd butt in, obviously irritated by Charlie’s stammering.
Taylor gaped at them. She could not speak. When she did regain movement, she made her way to the jet bathroom and slammed the door. Sitting on the lidded toilet, Taylor listened to the thrumming of her heart. It felt like it would beat right out of her chest, so she took some deep breaths to try and calm herself. She pushed her dark tight curls out of her face. She needed air, and having all the hair in her face was only making her more anxious. Her scalp was sweating and itchy too.
Taylor pulled at the thick brown curls and removed the wig from her head, allowing the blond hair she had tucked under it to cascade down. She sighed in relief to be free and in the air again. But the fresh air only made her brain work faster, and it didn’t make anything she just learned any better.
She was backed into a corner. There was no way out.
If she said no, they lost a company, an empire, and generations of her family’s work.
But it wasn’t just that. It was the people who depended on Preston Corp., people who were employees and consumers, people who had always known that Preston Corp. was a company that could be trusted and had been around forever and would continue to be around.
How could this happen? Why was this happening? What the hell was she going to do?
Taylor stood and leaned over the sink, splashed her face with cold water, rubbed it in her eyes, drank some down, and then reached for a towel, which probably cost more than her weekly paycheck from the coffee shop. She dried her face hard, trying to rub herself into this awful reality.
Taylor took in her reflection: long blond hair, brown eyes. But that wasn’t the real her either. If she was going to try and set herself straight, she might as well go all out. She plucked the colored contacts from her eyes and met her aquamarine stare. It had been a long time since she had looked at herself this way in the mirror. Usually she just did a check to make sure all the blond was hidden under the wig and that her eyes were a generic brown, but now here she was: the real Taylor Preston.
She was a Preston through and through: the heart-shaped face, full mouth, blond hair, blue eyes, and porcelain complexion were all Preston. Her mother used to joke that if she hadn’t been there she wouldn’t have believed she was hers. The wig, contacts, and glasses covered all those defining features, and made her unrecognizable to everyone. But now she saw herself again. It was clear now who she was, who she had been running from being.
And now she had a responsibility. A huge responsibility.
Taylor closed her eyes and thought back. She could hear her grandfather’s voice in her ear as she sat on his knee at the office, looking out the window at the hustle and bustle all around on the streets below. “You see the people, Taylor,” he had asked her, and she nodded. “They are our responsibility. We are a big, big business, and many people count on us to make sure we take care of them. It’s our job as Prestons to make sure we take care of them,” he told her, and she watched him, taking every word in. “Will you help them when it’s your turn, Taylor?”
“Yes, Poppy,” she had promised fiercely.
They had pinky sworn on it, making it official.
Then her mind flashed forward a few years in time. She was thirteen, and she went on a factory tour with him. She was slowly learning the importance and burden it was to be responsible for so many, to be the one they depended on. Taylor nervously admitted, “I don’t think I have a mind for business, Poppy.”
She was terrified he would be mad or disappointed. He stopped right where he was, in the middle of a factory floor, knelt down, and looked into her eyes. “Good,” he said, totally surprising her, “because you don’t need your mind, what you need is your heart. And you, my princess, are all heart.”
He believed in her; he had always believed in her.
She could do this, she realized. She had to do this. She had promised Poppy. People depended on her and this company. She refused to be the Preston who let it all die.
Time to grow up, time to stop acting like a spoiled heiress.
Because right now, the attitude she was pulling was just on the border of stamping her feet and pouting. She wanted reality but had been living for the last five years behind
a façade: glasses, eye color, hair color, clothes. All to escape her reality. She had a loyalty to what her family had made. She had no choice.
“Grow up,” she whispered to herself in the mirror. “You can do this.” You don’t have a choice, she added silently.
She combed her fingers through her long blond hair and fought back the nausea making its way up her throat. During the years of her disguise, she hadn’t been able to cut the blond strands. She would get the scissors up to the ends and panic. Same thing with dye, she had wasted time and money but never could apply the mixture to her head. And forget about going somewhere for her to have it cut or colored, she would have been recognized instantly. The wig had been perfect. Even if she could have cut and colored her hair, she never would have been able to style it to cover her features like the wig had.
Taylor suddenly smelled coffee. She looked down to see she was still wearing her black Roasted Bean T-shirt. She ripped it off, revealing a white tank underneath. She pulled on the light-blue cardigan still tied around her hips and finger-combed her hair again. Then she absorbed her reflection. After reorienting herself with her appearance for another minute, she gave herself a nod and walked out.
When Taylor opened the door, she saw that all the men were huddled together, probably working on how to extract her from the bathroom. They all turned to look at her, and every man sucked in a loud breath. Taylor wasn’t sure what had caused their reaction, until she realized she wasn’t the only one who needed to get reoriented to her appearance. She had gone in a dark-haired barista and had come out a golden-blond heiress.
Well, let’s get this done.
“I’ll do it. I’ll play ball,” she said and saw all their shoulders relax a bit. “But,” she added quickly and saw the tension return, “I have terms of my own.”
Chapter Two
When Taylor came out of the bathroom, Derrick was fairly certain there was something he was supposed to be doing. Then he realized it was breathe.
A scared and angry girl had gone into that bathroom, hiding from her past, hiding from her responsibilities, hiding from herself under an array of disguises. Taylor Preston, CEO of Preston Corp. had come out. One of the richest, or assumed richest, people in the world. And it was clear she was going to control this situation.
And she was stunning, just an absolute vision. Taylor didn’t know it, but she was a work of art. It wasn’t just her looks; Taylor was smart and thoughtful too. The only thing she lacked was confidence. Especially about business.
But it seemed to Derrick that she was ready to take charge, and it was about damn time.
“What are your terms, Taylor?” his father asked, severing the silence that Taylor’s reappearance had created.
After she’d dropped her bombshell, Taylor had gone to a hidden panel on the side of the plane, slid it open, and poured herself two fingers from the brandy decanter that was concealed there. She threw it back. Not even flinching.
“First, I will agree to be engaged, but I am not marrying anyone—at least not yet,” she said, looking at each of the men as she spoke.
“Taylor, the decree …” Charlie started.
Taylor held up her hand to cut Charlie off, and Derrick kept his smile to himself. She was totally taking control, and he was glad. He was ecstatic. But it wasn’t long before his nerves kicked in. What if she trashed the plan?
Shit. Maybe this new Taylor was a little too premature for the whole thing to work.
“Look, I know I have to be married to take over. I get it, old school and all that,” Taylor said, dismissing Charlie, “but I don’t have to be married for the ball to get rolling.”
“And what ball is that?” Simon asked dryly.
Taylor batted her eyes at Simon, feigning innocence, “Why, for you to hold up your end of the bargain and start helping us get out of the financial hole Cedric got us into,” she explained. Then she turned back to the decanter, poured another two fingers, and pounded it back.
“Taylor,” Simon began slowly, sensing the change in Taylor that was obvious to everyone else in the room. He proceeded more hesitantly, “that isn’t the deal.”
Derrick felt like he was watching a tennis match, looking from his dad to Taylor, eager to see the next move from each.
“I know, Simon,” she said, “but you have to admit, this is all a bit much for me to take. You have all seen this coming down the pike for months. I have had,” she evaluated her watch, “barely an hour to deal with all of this.
“So I need time,” she explained, nodding her head to Simon, Charlie, and Todd. “I can’t just jump into this, which would be stupid. And no one here would ever think I’m stupid, right?”
Simon and Charlie were murmuring “No of course not,” and even Todd was shaking his head. She had them hooked.
Boy, she was good.
“So here is my proposal,” she said, sitting in one of the chairs and gesturing for everyone else to sit, which they did quickly.
Derrick just continued leaning. He didn’t think he could move, he was so mesmerized by her.
“You want good PR, you need to make it happen. Me coming back married to him, and my uncle dying, that is going to look suspicious and staged.”
She was right. And by the way each man shifted, they all knew it.
“You want the press to sit up and take notice, you gotta hide it from them,” Taylor said. “They have spent four years speculating about me, I am sure, and all because I was inaccessible. If I just show up all lovey-dovey and happy, ready to smile and take over a corporation, they will smell the lies from a mile away. And then they will dig for the truth.”
Damn, she was right. Derrick hadn’t even thought about that. He had just assumed the surprise of her return and their nuptials would be enough. Of course when he had thought it through, her uncle hadn’t killed himself.
“Those parasites love to sniff shit out and think they have found the story of the century. So, we need to keep it on the down low, but not buried.”
A bolt shot through Derrick when Taylor turned to him. Those blue eyes. Wow, had those always been so … Oh wait, she had asked him something.
“What?”
“Have you been dating anyone recently?” she repeated slowly, raising her voice, annoyance clear with each word.
“I’ve never really dated anyone,” he returned coolly, but it was the truth. Fooled around with? Yes. Hooked up with? Yup. Dated? Never.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Have you been linked to or photographed with anyone in like the last six months?”
“No.”
“No one?”
“I haven’t been in a club, to a party, or anywhere but my office, my home, and business meetings in two years,” Derrick answered. He noticed his father nodding and looking at Taylor. It was weird having his father back him after they had spent so many years bickering, fighting, and butting heads.
Taylor looked doubtful about this information, but she continued, “That’s good. Now we need to plant the happy couple rumor.”
“What about by announcing your engagement?” Simon suggested eagerly.
Taylor paced, mulling over the suggestion. “And then, bam, Cedric is dead?” She shook her head. “No good. It’s too much too soon. We need to be spotted together.”
“A vacation,” Derrick said.
Taylor’s eye lit up, and Derrick knew she liked the idea. When she got into something, when she started piecing things together and getting it perfect, she was alive; she just glowed. At least she had when she was a kid, and he was glad to see that hadn’t changed.
“Yes! Exactly!” she clapped her hands in the air. “It will be like we went away, to get away from it all. We’re feeling cocky that we had hid it for so long, and we get spotted. Perfect.”
She furrowed her brow in thought. “But where and how?” She rested her chin in her hand. Then suddenly she was up and snapped her fingers, pointing in success, “A yacht! We can go out on a yacht. You’ve got a y
acht, right?” she said, turning to Simon.
Good plan. But it needed adjusting, Derrick thought.
“Taylor, a yacht takes a crew, takes plans. You have to get it in the proper channels. It’s pretty time consuming,” he reminded her.
Taylor turned back to him, “You’re right. Damn. Well, now what?” she said to Charlie.
“I have the sailboat, and I can man it myself. We would be seen taking it out of the marina, and if we leave at night, it will spark lots of talk. Especially if I try to pay someone off,” Derrick said it casually, but inside he was hoping she would bite.
Derrick knew Taylor was not his biggest fan, and it was his fault too. He could tell by the way she avoided him and only looked at him when she had to that she was still mad. He needed time with her, time alone. If he could just get her to listen, he was sure he could repair the damage.
“That could work,” Charlie said slowly. “Yes, that would be perfect,” he finished jovially, his expression saying everything seemed to be clicking into place.
“I think it could work,” Simon said, nodding his approval and looking between Taylor and his son.
“Okay, great. It’s settled,” Taylor said. “We get spotted, the relationship makes news headlines around the world, and we go from there.” She turned to Charlie and Todd. “Meanwhile, these guys will get you a list of the first must-haves we need done and the costs of them, and you hold up your end.”
Simon started to argue, brows drawn in discontent, but Taylor interrupted before he could speak. “This is a process, Simon, just like rebuilding the company will be,” she explained, her tone soothing. “It will take time. I don’t expect the money all at once, just like you shouldn’t expect me to just marry your son tomorrow. He didn’t ruin his rep in one day,” she said, pointing to Derrick. But her eyes never left Simon’s. “And Cedric didn’t ruin an empire that quick either, so I won’t be married overnight. It is bad business to move too quickly.”
“Now, you two,” she said to Todd and Charlie, “need to get all the chaos surrounding Cedric’s lack of leadership to look like a leadership shakeup. Leak it somehow. Start a rumor, plant a seed—whatever it takes—and make sure it gets going fast. And I want all the needs for the entire corporation by tomorrow afternoon.”
Inevitable Inheritance: The Inevitable Series | Book One Page 3
