Page 25

Taylor got to her feet and looked for a phone. She needed to get out of there. Oh, wait, he had just given her a phone. Now she just needed to remember how to dial out on it. Just who the hell was she supposed to call?
But first she had to know, what did this woman look like? Taylor slunk down the hall, her bare feet padding softly, though to her it sounded like a herd of elephants. But there was no way Derrick and the mystery woman could hear her, their voices were way too loud, argument loud.
Peering around the corner, Taylor looked into the foyer and to the door, where just a little while earlier Derrick was threatening the life of a delivery boy. Derrick was now blocking her from seeing whoever it is. Taylor craned her neck, but it was no use; he was like a freaking wall.
“Derrick, I need to know. Please!” the woman demanded. “Just tell me! I won’t say anything, I swear!”
“No. Now leave,” Derrick said in irritation. He made a move to shut the door, and she jumped to the side and slid into the foyer.
The grin that covered Taylor’s face was so wide it hurt; she recognized the tiny woman. Marty. Of course it was Marty. Derrick had asked her for a favor and given her nothing, what was a kid sister to do?
“Is she here?” she asked, all intrigued.
“Marty,” Derrick barked, and Taylor could tell he was trying to restrain himself.
Marty’s eyes widened, “She is! Can I meet her?”
“No. Leave,” he said and grabbed his sister’s arm, trying to pull her toward the elevator.
“Come on, Derrick.” Marty wrenched her arm free from his grip. “Let me make sure she isn’t a whore,” Marty said in a stage whisper.
Taylor leaned against the wall, out of sight, and tried not to laugh. She was older than the last time Taylor had seen her, but she was still Marty. Taylor hadn’t seen Marty since she left. And before that, Marty had been really busy. She was the cheerleader type, always on prom committee, serving as class officer, having no time for anything else.
“Marty if you don’t—”
Taylor finally intervened. She liked seeing Derrick worked up, but she was also eager to see his sister. “Hi, Marty,” she said quietly, and all eyes shifted to her. Derrick narrowed his eyes, and Marty wasspeechless. That was a huge feat—bigger than moving a mountain.
“Taylor,” Marty whispered, in awe as if witnessing a resurrection. “Oh my God, Taylor.” Then she looked to her brother and back to Taylor. It was like she was trying to follow a ping-pong match. “No way. You two? Oh my God, Mom would die. Well, you know she would be so … yeah, whatever.”
Taylor made her way over to the stuttering young Fletcher, and Marty launched herself at her. “Where have you been?” she asked, squeezing Taylor hard. Taylor squeezed her back just as hard. “I’ve missed you. I’ve been worried. Are you okay? You look thin. But gorgeous—still gorgeous. God, you just dropped off the planet. How are you?”
“Take a breath, Marty,” Derrick muttered.
Marty turned to her brother and glared, “How come you didn’t tell me?”
Derrick rolled his eyes, “That’s a stupid question.”
“I wouldn’t have said anything,” she said, causing Derrick and Taylor to snort in laughter.
Marty furrowed her brow, “I don’t say everything. I’m just so excited about some stuff that sometimes … oh, whatever.” She stopped when she realized she wasn’t gaining any ground. She turned her attention back to Taylor. “Are you really with him?” she asked, her eyes pleading.
Taylor took a deep breath. That was the question, wasn’t it? “Yeah,” she squeaked out, clearing her throat and adding, “We are together.” She hoped it sounded convincing. It sounded forced to her ears, but Marty didn’t appear to notice.
“Wow,” Marty said softly, looking back and forth between the two. She looked excited and pleased, and then she narrowed her eyes and looked suspiciously at the two of them. “Why are you guys so irritated then?”
Taylor and Derrick looked quickly at each other and then guiltily at the floor, and Marty caught the whole thing. But then again, people on the space station could probably have sensed the tension in the room. Marty released Taylor and put her hands to her hips, “What’s going on here?”
“Marty—” Derrick started, his voiced strained. It was obvious he was about to try and kick his sister out again.
But Taylor cut him off, “Okay, Marty, the truth is—”
Derrick tensed and looked at Taylor with wide eyes that screamed, “Are you frickin’ crazy? Just take out an ad inThe Times,” but Taylor ignored him. “The truth is, we had a fight and I am mad at him,” Taylor said, sounding as angry as she felt. She gestured her chin to Derrick, as if there was any question who thehimreferred to.
Marty maintained the irritated look, brows still brought down, but now she focused her attention on Derrick, who suddenly looked relieved.He shouldn’t be, Taylor thought,I’m just winding up.
“What did you do?” Marty accused him, not wasting a second to blame it all on her brother.
“I didn’t—”