Inevitable Inheritance: The Inevitable Series | Book One

by Charest, Kade

  Well, isn’t that funny? Derrick mused, as he realized she was right. It was almost exactly the same scenario. “No,” he said, laughing and shaking his head, “I’m doing this because it won’t change the decisions you need to make when you walk in there with Todd and Charlie. You need to focus on being Taylor Preston, kick-ass CEO of Preston Corp., and not worry about silly stuff,” he explained.

  Taylor searched his face for a second, as if trying to evaluate the truth of his statement. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me,” she said in a whisper, her eyes shining with the start of tears.

  “I could never be mad at you, Taylor,” Derrick assured her, pulling her to him and giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. His balls were a little touchy with her, but he couldn’t be mad. He was just happy to have her here and with him. “Okay?” he asked as he pulled back and looked at her again.

  “Okay.”

  And with that, Derrick took her hand and led her the rest of the way down the stairs. In front of the closed door, Taylor stopped and swallowed, took a deep breath, and looked down at her outfit. Setting her shoulders back, Derrick let go of her hand so she could move forward when she was ready.

  Derrick and Taylor walked to the drawing room together. His hand was on the small of her back, and they were silent. Taylor looked confident with a dash of freaked out. He wanted to ask her how she was doing, what she was thinking, but he was afraid she might crack, and right now he wanted her confident.

  Derrick wasn’t sure why this was called a drawing room, he only knew this was always where staff brought his father’s business associates, and he figured it would be no different for Taylor. He was about to ask her if she knew why it was called a drawing room when the door burst open, cutting off his words.

  Todd came through in his hurried strides and then stopped abruptly, forcing Charlie to walk into his back. He grunted and nearly fell. Todd’s mouth was hanging open, and he was staring at Taylor.

  “Taylor, you, uh, you look,” Todd stuttered, and Derrick had to cover his mouth. Todd prided himself on being an asshole, a role he took on exceptionally well. To see him stuttering and trying to pay a compliment was out of the ordinary, to put it mildly, and comical.

  “Thank you, Todd,” Taylor said, putting him out of his misery.

  Charlie handled things differently, but then again he always did have more finesse. Charlie crossed the room and took Taylor’s hands in his. “You look beautiful, Taylor, so grown up,” he said and kissed her cheek. When he leaned back, there were tears in his eyes. “Your parents and grandparents would be so proud of you,” he said softly.

  Derrick saw Taylor’s bottom lip tremble and crossed the room to stand next to her. But she instantly pulled herself together, took a deep breath, and said, “So let’s talk about security.”

  Todd spoke up first, “We have got you the best.

  “And who exactly is the best?”

  “Henry Lowsley is—”

  “Right here,” an accented voice came from the doorway.

  Henry Lowsley was easily over six feet and as wide as an industrial refrigerator. The T-shirt he wore seemed to be painted in place, and the crazy mass and number of muscles beneath it were so big they looked almost fake. Derrick was pretty sure the guy had gotten lost and was really supposed to be going to audition for the WWE or John Cena’s body double. His red hair, blue eyes, and fair skin would have made him look like a schoolboy if not for the huge size and military haircut.

  And it totally pissed him off that Taylor’s jaw dropped at the sight of him.

  What the fuck does that mean? He wanted to ask. Are you attracted to him? Why don’t you look at me like that?

  Instantly Derrick had a dislike for Henry.

  “Hello, Ms. Preston,” Henry said in his Irish accent as he approached Taylor. He offered his hand, which was the size of a frying pan, to Taylor.

  “Hello, Mr. Lowsley. Nice to meet you,” Taylor said. She sounded level and professional, not at all like a giddy schoolgirl, and that settled Derrick a little. “This is my—”

  “Fiancé, Derrick Fletcher,” Derrick interjected. He was curious to know what Taylor was going to call him, but he wanted to make it clear to Henry that he was important. Very important. Like, I don’t care how pumped up you are, I will deflate you if you look at my girl wrong.

  Even if she was unhappy to be his girl, and was being forced into it, she was still his.

  “Of course, Mr. Fletcher. It’s a pleasure.” Mr. Lowsley extended his hand, and Derrick took it firmly. Really firmly. However, if it bothered Henry Lowsley in the slightest, he didn’t let on.

  “So, Mr. Lowsley—”

  “Please, call me Henry.”

  “Okay, Henry, please tell me how you plan to rectify my apparent security problem,” Taylor said dryly.

  “There is nothing apparent about it. You have a very serious problem, Ms. Preston,” Henry informed her. “You have zero security anywhere. There is no personal security on staff, and all of the security that is in place at Preston Corporation and Preston Manor is outdated. It probably has not updated since the eighties.”

  “And you know this because?” Taylor questioned.

  “Because when I broke in there today, no one came to find me,” he responded matter-of-factly.

  Taylor’s eyes bulged.

  “Seems like it would be better for you to work at my place,” Derrick bragged to Taylor.

  “Well, your place was a little better, but not much, Mr. Fletcher. I got in there too—you left milk out.”

  Yeah, Derrick didn’t like Henry.

  “You were in my—”

  “Okay, so we suck. What’s the plan?” Taylor cut in. She looked nervous, and Derrick didn’t blame her.

  “I have a team working on the office building—”

  “Excuse me? I haven’t even hired you and you are already wiring things?”

  “I have a great reference,” Henry assured her.

  “Oh really, and who would that be?”

  “Nan is my aunt.”

  Taylor took that in and seethed for a moment longer. “What is your background exactly?”

  “I was in the Defence Forces in Ireland. I joined when I was eighteen and excelled, gradually moving up the chain of command based on performance and professionalism. Finally I was in charge of researching and utilizing the newest and best technology, and people, to provide protection for the Irish government. I recently got out of duty and was starting to build up a private security company here in the states when Aunt Nan told me you might need some assistance. And I believe your security needs a complete overhaul. I am up to date with the most advanced systems.”

  “I’m really not sure I need anything too crazy, Mr. Lowsley,” Taylor said. “All of your background seems overkill.”

  “With all due respect, Ms. Preston,” Henry responded firmly, “I don’t think you have a realistic grasp of the sort of spotlight you are in. You now run the largest merchandising company in the free world. In addition, you are incredibly private and have up until this point been able to keep yourself away from prying eyes. That is not going to be a possibility anymore. Running a company, you will have to be seen, and the far-off shot and wave is not going to be enough for the bloodthirsty photographers of today. They want you to lash out, make a misstep, and look bad because it will sell more. And if they have to interject in order to get that shot, they will.”

  Taylor was motionless as she took in what Henry said to her. She was scared; the media scared her, and what they were willing to do scared her, but Derrick knew she needed to hear it. She was all too willing to take the same stance that her mother had: security was an unnecessary commodity that put you in a prison. But times had changed, and there was no way Derrick was letting her risk herself to prove a point.

  Taylor swiftly turned to Todd and Charlie. “What the hell happened to the security at the office?” she demanded.

  “Once Mr. Lowsley came to us, we went back an
d looked,” Charlie answered. “We found that much of the systems and trips have been turned off,” Charlie answered Taylor.

  “They were pricey and Cedric didn’t want to pay the cost, apparently,” Todd remarked.

  “And,” Charlie added, “upgrades had been budgeted multiple times in the last five years, but it was vetoed.”

  “By Cedric?” Derrick guessed dryly, and Charlie only nodded in response.

  “I have started with removing the system that was there—it was just in my way,” Henry informed Taylor. “Once that is gone, I will start laying the fibers for the system. And I need to know where you plan on having your permanent residence so that I can wire that also.”

  Derrick watched as Taylor continued to take everything in, and then he saw the stress and tension she had been trying to hide take over her body. She started rubbing her forehead and swallowing, apparently trying to mull everything over. She was about to speak when the door to the room burst open, and Marty shot through it.

  “Sorry, Taylor, but I almost forgot. Do you think you—”

  When Marty looked up and saw Henry, she stopped dead in her tracks, and her mouth dropped open. She stood completely paralyzed as she took in the massive man. Henry was looking back at Marty very casually.

  The interruption seemed to relax Taylor, and she smirked when she saw how Marty was looking at the hulking man. “Henry, this is Martinique Fletcher. Marty, this is Henry Lowsley. He is a candidate as my new head of security,” Taylor introduced them.

  Henry crossed the room. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Fletcher,” he said, extending his hand.

  Marty mindlessly extended her hand. “Oh my God, you have an accent,” she said in lieu of any introduction. Subtlety had never been Marty’s strong suit.

  Henry developed an all-encompassing blush that started on his neck and extended up his face. He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable as Marty mercilessly took inventory of him with her eyes, but Derrick wasn’t going to save him.

  Unfortunately, Taylor was much nicer than him.

  “Okay, Marty. Thank you so much,” Taylor said, embracing Marty. “I am so excited to wear the clothes you got me, and keep them coming, please.”

  “Please, Taylor,” Marty said in complete stage whisper. “If you love me, hire that man! Please!”

  “Good-bye, Marty,” Taylor said, smiling at her and kissing her cheek good-bye.

  “Bye. Nice to meet you, Henry,” Marty said over Taylor’s shoulder, and Taylor non-discreetly pushed her toward the door. Marty took the hint and started toward the door. “Peace, bro. Bye, Todd and Charlie,” she said, and she was gone.

  Taylor turned back to Henry. “When can you have the office done?” she asked.

  “I can have it ready to go in forty-eight hours,” Henry replied. “And I will take on your personal security myself.”

  “No,” Taylor replied before Derrick had the chance to spit out the exact sentiment. “I don’t want personal security. I didn’t have it my whole life—”

  “Taylor, I am sorry to tell you, but times have changed, especially here in America. The paparazzi are chomping at the bit to get their hands on you, and they will do anything,” Henry reminded her.

  Derrick hated to admit it, but Henry was right, so instead he just kept it to himself and chirped in, “Taylor you didn’t go out to public places and events when you were a kid, but when your folks went they always had security.”

  Derrick’s parents had taken him and Marty everywhere; they had been on the red carpet before they could walk. But Taylor’s mom had tried to bring Taylor as a child and had almost been trampled, and it freaked her out. After that, Taylor was never allowed to go to those events. Elizabeth Preston had wanted to give her daughter a “normal” childhood.

  “I shouldn’t need it, I just need the office—”

  Derrick crossed the room and took her face in his hands, commanding her full attention. “Taylor, it isn’t safe. You haven’t been around for a while. They want to see how much they can taunt you, they want to see if you will shy away from them, they want you to react, and they want to make money off of it. And some of those freaks will go to some real extremes. I will not allow you to be hurt in the process. So, please, for me, for my peace of mind, you have to have security with you at all times.”

  Taylor looked at Derrick, and he could see in her eyes she wanted to buck him. She wanted to tell him to fuck off and that it was all fake and it didn’t matter, that she could take care of herself. But instead she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened them she said, “For you, and that is the only reason.” Derrick saw the irritation in her eyes, but he didn’t care; he was relieved.

  Taylor turned her head to Henry, dislodging herself from Derrick. “So two days and the office will be ready, right?” Taylor questioned Henry.

  He verified with a nod.

  She then turned to Charlie. “I am going to need a bio and picture of every member of management at Preston Corp. within the next twelve hours.”

  “Why?” Todd questioned.

  “Because in three days I am going to fix this mess,” she said, walking to the door. “Wednesday I will introduce myself as the new president of Preston Corp., and I want to know exactly what I am walking into.”

  Derrick smirked as she left Todd and Charlie in her wake. He smiled even wider as he watched her gorgeous designer-clad ass strut out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Now she had bodyguards.

  Great. Just fucking wonderful.

  So much for her being in charge of everything. Taylor made her way down the hall with no real destination in mind, needing to wrap her head around everything that had just happened.

  As a final act of “because-I-can” she had decided to appear to work on Wednesday, as in three days from now. Sometimes she wished she practiced thinking before she spoke.

  “Tay?”

  Taylor turned on her heel and faced Derrick. “Why are you so ridiculous with the bodyguards, huh? I don’t need them! I can take care of myself! I thought you said I was in charge and I get to make the decisions, and then there you are shoving security details down my throat!”

  Derrick held both his hands up. “Calm. Down,” he said slowly. “It is non-negotiable, Taylor. You are a powerful, beautiful woman, and you need to be smart and protect yourself.”

  Taylor glared at him and then spun back to continue down the hall. She froze. Am I really even mad at him? Taylor asked herself. Or is he just the easiest one to lash out at?

  Heaving a sigh, she turned back. “I’m sorry I’m taking it out on you. I’m just—”

  “Don’t stress about it, Taylor. I get it,” he told her. “I’m starving. Want to come have lunch with me? I can introduce you to the chaos that is social media,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

  A laugh escaped Taylor’s lips, and she rolled her eyes as she looked away from his ridiculous expression. She didn’t want to take everything out on him, but she really hated that he could make her laugh and feel better. It made her relate to him more, and she felt like she needed to distance herself from him. “Yeah, I could eat,” she said, turning back to Derrick with a smirk that she was unable to get off her face. “I should probably take this off, though,” she said, looking down at her power outfit.

  “Sounds good,” Derrick said as an electronic ringtone cut through the air and he looked at his phone. “I gotta take this. I’ll go and get us something and meet you in the upstairs sitting room,” he said as he walked away and answered his phone. “Hey, Taro, how are things?”

  Taylor stood befuddled in the hallway as she watched Derrick walk away. This was her life now; she was wearing designer clothes and telling people what to do and relying on Derrick Fletcher. All things she told herself she would never do again.

  And it didn’t feel wrong.

  What was wrong with her?

  Maybe she needed to get out of the power suit; it was making her think that this was okay,
and she couldn’t feel the need to retaliate while she was in it. Yup, all the suit’s fault.

  A ping-pong rhythmic tone started chiming, and Taylor looked around the hallway for a clock or radio that had suddenly come alive before she realized the sound was coming from her. She slid her hand into a pocket and pulled out her phone, finding Marty’s name on it.

  “Hello?” Taylor said after finally getting the slide thing to work.

  “Red or purple?”

  “What?”

  “Red or purple? I have a shirt here that is going to look absolutely killer on you, and it comes in this like whore red or this light-but-dark-but-not-too-dark purple, and I can’t decide. So you pick—red or purple …” Marty demanded.

  Unable to help herself, Taylor dropped her head back and laughed. Not a giggle or a chuckle, but a full-on deep belly laugh. And she couldn’t stop, tears were running down her face, and she had to prop herself against a console table to keep from falling over.

  When Taylor was able to slow and take a breath, Marty spoke up, “Are ya done?” Her voice was laced with amusement.

  “Yeah,” Taylor croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, but I needed that.”

  “It’s totally fine, it’s so good to hear you laughing. I really have missed you,” Marty said.

  “I missed you too, Marty,” Taylor whispered.

  “Well, I won’t lose you again, Taylor. Derrick fucking put a ring on it!” she announced excitedly. “Okay, so whore red or light-dark purple?”

  “I’m going with purple,” Taylor confirmed.

  “I was leaning toward that one. Okay, I’m off to continue shopping!”

  “Wait!” Taylor called before they disconnected. “This suit—what do I do with it? I’m going to the office on Wednesday—”

  “Wednesday? I’m gonna have to get more suits!” Marty squealed.

  “Yes, you will. But what do I do with this one?” Taylor asked, trying to keep Marty on topic.

  “Oh, just throw it in my room, and I will have it pressed and ready for Wednesday. Or keep it in your room, and I will go and get it. Just don’t let Derrick put his dirty mitts on it trying to get you out of it. I can’t promise to get stains out before Wednesday.”