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“Me too,” he agreed. “Now, what are you really looking at?”
Marty shuffled the papers she was holding. “Some of my sketches. My mentor thinks I should have a fashion show and get my label off the ground.”
“You are amazingly talented,” Derrick told her. “I mean, the dresses you created for the Gala, they were like art.”
“Yeah, and you stained Taylor’s with so much of your blood you can’t tell its original color,” she quipped.
Derrick grimaced. Marty always shot from the hip. “I know.”
“You could have died, Derrick, you know that? Somehow, some miraculous way, you didn’t. And I am so happy you are okay. But if there hadn’t been a way to get you out of there so quickly, who knows what could have happened, you know?” Marty said, looking at Derrick with a little disbelief still on her face.
“Yeah.”
“And Taylor, she sat here alone, while you were in surgery, thinking you might die,” Marty reminded him with sad eyes. And then her stare became irate, “So can you lay off on the going home shit? We need to make sure you are all healthy and not springing a leak in there. You make it very hard for everyone to be happy you are alive when you annoy the fuck out of them.”
She was right. “Well now I feel like an asshole,” Derrick said letting his gaze drift back out the window.
“Well if the shoe fits,” Marty chided and Derrick gave her a small smile. “Lay off her, okay?”
“I will,” Derrick agreed.
“I think that might be the first time you have ever agreed with me,” Marty said in surprise.
“You should probably write it down,” Derrick remarked.
Marty shook her head, “No, that’s lame. Besides, I already shared it on social media. It will come up in my memories.”
Derrick laughed and Marty joined him.
“I was totally terrified,” Marty said, sitting beside her brother on the bed.
Derrick didn’t have the words so instead he held out his arms to his sister.
“Damn, Derrick,” Marty said, muffled into his shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry you guys had to go through all of that,” he said in his most sympathetic tone. Feeling Marty move, he assumed she was crying. Then he realized she was trying to get out of his embrace.
“No, not that. Damn, you have really bad B.O.! I brought you deodorant. Use it!”
The sight of Marty holding her nose with tears in her eyes from Derrick’s stench was too much for Derrick to take and he burst into laughter holding his painful chest. But still, he couldn’t stop no matter how much it hurt. And Marty couldn’t keep the disgust on her face for long as she, too, started into a fit of laughter.
“Well you seem to be in a better mood. I hope you only needed a nap,” Taylor quipped, walking back in the room with a steaming cup of coffee.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Derrick said, “I promise to behave for the rest of the night.” He made no promises about tomorrow.
* * *
“You thinkthey will let me go home today?” Derrick asked when he woke up the next morning. Taylor was working on her laptop, trying to keep up with all her work obligations from both Preston Corp and Fletcher Enterprises, in the midst of all the chaos around her.
She smirked and looked up to laugh with him about his comment and realized that he wasn’t joking.
“I thought you were going to let it go,” Taylor reminded him, a little taken aback.
“I said I wouldn’t bring it up again last night,” Derrick reminded her. “Today is a new day. You should know to always listen to the language of a deal, Taylor,” he chided her.
Taylor slammed down the lid of her laptop. “Derrick, I cannot listen to you ask to go home like I did yesterday. For the love of God,” she said hotly.
“No, I won’t be annoying, I swear. I will totally rein it in,” he assured Taylor.