Inevitable Inheritance: The Inevitable Series, #1

By Kade Charest

"Never again." That was what she said when she left. She promised herself she would never live that life, never return to all that pain. There was nothing in the world that could make her go back … or so she thought.

 

For a while she kept that promise, and she was finally happy. She built a life for herself away from the wounds of her past: the death of her parents, her uncle's insanity, the ruin of her grandfather's legacy, and Derrick, the who broke her heart. But then the past came knocking with the one thing that could force her to break her promise: guilt. The guilt grew so strong she didn't have a choice.

 

She could do it. She could face the past and the pain if it meant rebuilding her family's company and saving their legacy. That would be the easy part. Facing Derrick, though … that was something else altogether. She couldn't believe what they were asking of her. Not just to face Derrick, but to marry him? Impossible. Could she make it through this with him? Or, worse, would she make it through without him?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kade Charest
• Release date: Nov 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223471547

Kade Charest

About the Author Kade Charest lives in Southeastern Massachusetts with her wonderful husband and two amazing sons. She loves to travel with her family, be a homebody on the weekends and lose herself in good books. She can be found strolling the aisles of Target as a good tactic to avoid the dust bunnies populating her home. But her favorite way to escape the mess and chaos is by writing erotic romance novels, which she sprinkles with a dash of mystery and healthy serving of great one-liners. She hopes that you find the same reprieve in her novels because, let's be honest, life is too short and too much fun to waste dusting baseboards. Connect with Kade at AuthorKadeCharest.com, on Instagram @authorkadecharest or on Facebook Kade Charest.

Book preview

Prologue 

Libby blew back her curly brown locks as they fell into her face again. One puff of air from the corner of her mouth sent them flying out of her face momentarily, allowing her to follow through with the nightly routine of cleaning all the stainless steel countertops at the Roasted Bean. It had been open mic night at the coffee shop, which meant it was a late night for the employees.

Libby had worked at the Roasted Bean for the last two years. She had bounced around from place to place before that, but when she came to Chadumor, Maine, two years earlier, she had fallen in love. It was a small town with cobblestoned streets, and it was right next to a government telescope that blocked all signals so that the town was without Wi-Fi or Internet access. It was a quaint town that embraced being sans technology, and Libby loved it.

Doesn’t that hair falling in your face drive you crazy? her co-worker Ben asked beside her, as the unruly curl once again fluttered in front of her thick black-framed glasses.

Libby bent her head a little lower, causing more of her disobedient curls to fall down into her face, and shrugged .

Ben laughed. How come you don’t pull it back if it keeps falling down? he asked, coming closer and tugging on one curl.

Libby jerked back, now looking at Ben. She shrugged again. I like it down.

Ben leaned back onto the counter he and Libby were standing at and smiled at her. I do too, he said softly, and Libby immediately shifted her gaze down again.

Libby avoided attention. She didn’t feel comfortable with people looking at her. It was why her hair was the way it was—it blocked her from view. It was why she looked away often and avoided conversations. She hated it all.

But as she glanced up to see what Ben was doing, she was happy to see he was still looking at her with that small smile on his face. He wore a gray Fidel hat over his shaggy black hair, and a thick beard covered his face. He had started working at the Roasted Bean two months earlier with Libby, but he would come in many times on their Friday open mic nights to play his acoustic guitar and sing. His voice was raspy and cool, and Libby liked to close her eyes and get lost in it.

And it was his singing that had built up the huge crush she had on him.

Libby had trained Ben when he started, so they had spent a lot of time together. Libby didn’t mind talking to people. She just hated when they focused on her too much. She preferred to talk about things other than herself. Ben never pried, and that appealed to Libby too.

She thought she had imagined it, maybe even dreamed it, but it seemed like Ben had been paying a lot of attention to her. And this was confirmed by Sara, another server at the Roasted Bean. Sara was Libby’s only other friend here in Chadumor, and she was eager to gossip about Ben’s attention, which she had noticed as a voyeur.

He is totally into you! Sara had informed Libby during their weekly dance class at the town center.

Libby had shaken her head at the suggestion, but deep down she both hoped and dreaded that this was true. She was unsure how to handle romantic attention, because at twenty-four she had never had a boyfriend and wasn’t sure she would know what to do. Before her life in Chadumor, she had lived a sheltered life. She hadn’t even known how to use an ATM, so talking to a guy was well outside her area of expertise.

And now here she was, scrubbing the same spot of stainless steel over and over again, painfully aware that Ben was looking at her and totally unsure of what to do. Should she say something? Should she walk away?

Suddenly Ben’s hand landed on Libby’s scrubbing hand, stopping her . It’s clean, Ben said softly to her, but he let his hand linger on hers.

Libby moved her eyes from their joined hands up to Ben’s face. When she met Ben’s eyes, he smiled and brought his free hand up to rest on Libby’s cheek.

Her breath caught in her throat as Ben searched her face and then dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. Libby’s heart raced, and butterflies danced in her stomach. When Ben brushed her lips again, Libby pushed forward to return his kiss.

Ben slid his hand to the back of her head and leaned in when suddenly a car horn blared.

Ben and Libby jumped apart and looked at each other wide-eyed. The car horn honked again repeatedly, and Ben rolled his eyes. It’s my ride, he explained to Libby, looking every bit as irritated and annoyed as she felt.

It’s okay, Libby said softly.

No, it’s not, Ben said, grabbing Libby’s hand. I want to stay, but we have a gig—

HONK!

It’s okay, really, Libby assured him.

Ben gave Libby’s hand a squeeze. I’ll see you tomorrow? he asked, searching her eyes.

Libby nodded, and Ben leaned in to give her another quick kiss.

I can’t wait, he said against Libby’s lips. He took a step back and let go of her hand. Night, Libby, he said, walking backward to the door, his eyes still on her.

Night, Ben, Libby replied, smiling at him. Ben smiled widely at her and then turned and ran out the door as more honking ensued.

Libby reached up to gently touch her lips and then ducked her head and smiled. After a few minutes, she dropped her fingers and turned back to the counter to finish cleaning up.

WINTER WAS KEEPING its frosty hold on the early spring New England nights, but tonight Libby didn’t feel the cold. She locked the shop, completely forgetting to put on her sweater. Instead, it stayed wrapped around her waist, leaving her arms bare in her T-shirt. Tonight the cold was irrelevant; tonight she was warmed by the kiss Ben had left her with, as quick as it may have been.

She gazed up at the stars and wrote poetry in her head. For the first time in her life, she saw how brightly the stars shone and how they actually did twinkle from their heavenly position. She was certain they had never shone quite this brightly or twinkled so freely. Nope, she was quite certain that tonight they shone brighter because—

Oooph was all Libby was able to get out before large arms encircled her from behind. Her mouth was quickly masked with an awful-smelling cloth, and then she was being hoisted and carried away, despite her attempts to escape. Libby wrenched her body to and fro, but it was no use.

Her efforts were futile because she could feel herself growing weaker and the darkness pulling her down into unconsciousness. The last thing Libby knew was she was petrified, absolutely and totally petrified.

The fear wasn’t because of the unknown—it was because she knew exactly who had taken her. And that was the worst part of all. Because now Libby was dead.

Taylor had been resurrected.

Chapter 1

The headache was bad . Groan-out-loud bad, and that was exactly what she did as she came to. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell there was light just on the other side of them, but she could not bring herself to open up.

Taylor? a voice asked softly. The sound of it had her entire body tensing. She knew that voice. She would never forget it. The voice terrified her that the worst had come true. She opened her eyes wide to see if her fear was well deserved.

And, sure enough, crouched in front of her was someone she had never wanted to see again, someone from what she thought was her long-lost past—a past she had desperately tried to eradicate, a past she had changed her name to avoid.

Apparently it hadn’t worked.

Charlie Mickels was waiting patiently for her to respond. He was not a mean man, not a terrible person, just a complete emblem of her previous life—the mascot of it all. Just seeing his perfect white hair, his finely lined face, and his fancy three-piece suit brought back a trillion memories and made her sure it had finally happened.

They had finally found her.

Taylor shook her head rapidly from side to side like she could shake him off or get him away. Maybe he was a hallucination. But he stayed there.

You’re okay, Taylor, you’re safe, Charlie assured her, and he touched her hand gently. If there was any doubt this was a horrific dream, the light touch of Charlie’s hand only confirmed to Taylor that this was happening; this was real. She tried to pull herself up from her seat but found that she was tied down.

It was amazing how quickly fear could turn to rage.

Untie me, she said sharply.

Charlie jumped to his feet, nodding as he went for the ties at Taylor’s wrist. We didn’t want you to fall, Charlie explained.

Well, I am holding myself up now! Taylor shouted. Panic set in then. She had been found, abducted, and taken God only knew where, and she was tied down. This was not good. Taylor started to tug at her restraints as complete hysteria overtook her, but to no avail.

Charlie moved in and released the binds on her with a quick pull at both of her wrists, and Taylor sprang from her seat. She grabbed at her sore wrists and bumped into a banquette couch. Taylor looked down at the couch that had stopped her and finally took in her surroundings: She was in the Preston family jet. She knew it well. The whole thing was outfitted with cream carpet and leather, with a bar just behind the cockpit and a fireplace too. The sight of it made her sick.

She had been inside this jet hundreds of times because she was Taylor Preston, one of the last remaining descendants of the billion-dollar money-making machine, Preston Corporation. It was a company that started with hotel chains in the early 1900s, over time expanding to a conglomerate of hotels, housewares, electronics, clothing lines, and anything else one could think of. It employed hundreds of thousands of people in the United States alone; it was a powerhouse and a household name. Growing up, Taylor had never wanted for anything, but that life hadn’t been without its issues.

And it was absolutely the last place she wanted to be ever again.

Taylor could feel the frenzied nerves building up in her as she kept her eyes on the couch. She needed to get herself together, and the best way to do that was to get information. Maybe it wasn’t what she thought, she told herself, maybe it wasn’t that bad. What the hell is going on? she demanded.

Cedric is dead, Taylor. The news was delivered by another voice that Taylor also knew all too well; it was the voice of Todd Hammel.

Taylor spun to take in the new arrival. Good, Taylor spat the word. Where the hell are we going? And why the hell am I here? she demanded of the two men with her.

Todd and Charlie were the top advisers for Preston Corporation. She had known both men her entire life, and they couldn’t be more opposite. Charlie was decades older with silvery-white hair, coiffed in the style of a mad man. He was kind and soft spoken; he had a grandfatherly quality about him. Todd had a stare that could melt steel, and he wore his hair in a buzz cut. It fit his personality—straight and to the point, no fuss.

L.A. Charlie answered her quickly, too quickly.

Taylor paused to try and gather herself. Something was up. She had known both men forever, and both were acting strangely, especially Charlie. In business dealings Charlie was no-nonsense and confident. On social occasions he was relaxed and easygoing. But now he was bouncing from foot to foot and jabbering. He was like a boxer who was afraid of his opponent. And his behavior was scaring the shit out of Taylor; something was up.

And then Todd spoke again, Taylor, Cedric is dead.

And this time it actually hit her. But there was no way it could mean what she thought it did. So you said, Taylor evaded, buying some time. Seconds ago she had just wanted information, and now she just wanted to disappear, again.

Preston Corp. needs you, Taylor, Charlie said softly.

Taylor’s blood pumped, her heart raced, and her breathing raced out of control. I don’t want it, she said slowly. She swallowed, trying to banish the sudden dryness in her throat, but it didn’t work. She backed away slowly; she wasn’t even aware she was doing it until she bumped into a swivel chair and was once again trapped.

Taylor ... Charlie said softly, searching for words.

You don’t really have a choice, Todd cut in.

Taylor backed away in another direction, shaking her head, and fell back into the swivel chair she had been bound to in the first place.

I don’t care who needs what, she said evenly, feigning indifference, I want off this plane, now.

Taylor, you need to take over the corporation—

No! Taylor shouted as she twisted her body in a jerky circle, searching for an exit.

Preston Corp needs you—

No goddamn way! she exclaimed, still spinning wildly. Suddenly her eyes found the door. She jumped toward it, eager to fly out into the wind rather than stay in this cabin with these two men.

Or it will be closed.

Taylor stopped and closed her eyes. You don’t care, she told herself. You let it go. You moved on. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care. Where is the board? Have them run it, she said finally, her back still to them. As much as she wanted to not care, the truth was she did.

Cedric fired them months ago. There is no one left, Todd explained.

Why the hell did he do that? Taylor exploded and turned back to face Todd, anger pumping through her. She had left knowing the company would be okay because the board was in place. She knew the importance of the company and wanted it still standing despite any stupidity her uncle could bring to it. The members of the board were all strong minds—handpicked by her grandfather before he had gotten too sick—men and women who could handle the corporation and not let Cedric Preston destroy it or the empire her family had spent generations making a solid household name. The corporation was the livelihood for millions of people worldwide. She remembered all the times her grandfather had said what a huge responsibility it was, why it was so important, and  it was why he worked so much—so that those people would be okay. Suddenly Taylor felt weighted down with the burden.

They were trying to rein him in, stop his ridiculous expenditures, Charlie explained. Cedric was just buying uncontrollably since your grandfather’s death. In addition, he invested it in visibly bad investments. He spent his entire inheritance and every other dime he could get his hands on. Then when he wanted more, he went to the board, and they denied him further funding. They very intelligently denied him.

And he fired them to get more money? Taylor asked, still in shock.

Charlie nodded grimly. He got rid of the board and took over everything. He had been taking all the profits from all areas of Preston Corp. for the last six months and diverted it all to himself. Then he just kept buying. Cars, yachts, buildings, homes. Just spending like there was no end.

I didn’t hear anything about the board, Taylor said absentmindedly as she took all the information in, baffled. The press should have been going wild with the information about Cedric just pissing carelessly through a fortune. She had shut herself off from all types of media, hadn’t read the newspaper, watched TV, or checked computers, and she had an older-than-old phone. But she did hear people talk about big news in the coffee shop, and news about Preston Crop. would most likely have reached her that way.

Cedric was self-indulgent, but he had some intelligence, Charlie explained. For instance, he knew to look and see that he could actually fire the trustees before acting impulsively. He also had the forethought to re-up their contracts and have them signed before he put the firing through. He explicitly outlined that they were not to go to the press or they would lose any compensation for their years of service as well as be sued.

Yes, if a Preston knew anything, it was how to avoid bad press.

So hire them back, Taylor insisted. Hire the board back. Get them to turn it around.

It’s not that simple, Taylor. Charlie said, shaking his head. Even if the money was available to get all the members back, we need you.

Why? she asked, panicked. I-I don’t know anything about business or running a corporation. I can’t be any help to—

There is a binding decree set out that Preston Corp. must be run by a Preston, Charlie said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Taylor felt her eyes bulge. So change the goddamn decree, she finally said through her teeth.

We can’t, Taylor, Charlie said in a desperate, soft voice, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. His fingers came up and started rubbing his brow, We’ve tried. It has been reevaluated and signed by each succeeding member that has taken it over, lastly by Cedric. It is binding.

Unreal, Taylor thought. This could not be happening. How can a piece of paper be so strong? Huh? How? Rip the fucker up. I cannot and will not run Preston Corporation, Taylor sneered and turned back to the window, to the twinkling lights below.

Then the company will be dissolved, everything will be sold, and every employee will be fired, Charlie said flatly.

Taylor whipped back, her dark curls hitting her face and her glasses sliding down her nose from the motion. What? She gasped in disbelief.

Charlie nodded as he stepped toward her, hands in his pockets. The decree, which was created by your great-great-grandfather, states that if there is no one in the line who can run the organization, it is to be dissolved and no longer known as Preston Corporation, he explained. If you are unwilling to take on the leadership role, the company will be sold and all employees terminated prior to any sale.

Taylor closed her eyes, sank into the banquette seat, and leaned her head back against the leather headrest. Her dark curls bounced into her face, but she left them there.

Of course there was a decree, of course. And of course it stipulated that all employees were to be terminated—the people for whom Preston Corp. was a livelihood. That just raised the guilt factor for Taylor. As if the economy wasn’t bad enough, now she was sentencing people to living in their cars if she didn’t claim her horrible birthright.

Her heart beat faster, her breathing hitched, and Taylor realized she was crying. Fuck, she muttered through her tears. And suddenly she had a moment of clarity. Sliding her fingers under her glasses, she wiped her eyes and sat up, setting her sights on Charlie, who was looking grim and concerned.

So, I am supposed to run a company that has been run into the ground because if I don’t, people will lose their jobs, right?

Charlie nodded, appearing relieved that Taylor finally understood.

But if Cedric spent it all, then how the hell am I going to keep them employed anyway? she asked sarcastically.

The relief left Charlie’s face and, if it were possible, he looked even more stressed than he had just moments before. There is still money coming in, but things have fallen into disrepair. That is one of the biggest issues, and we do need further income for that. Cedric was diverting that money to himself instead of putting it toward repairs and remodels before he fired the board.

Well, wasn’t he just a crafty coyote, Taylor muttered, leaning forward. But that still does not answer the question of what the hell I am supposed to do to keep this company going and how to repair it without any money. Taylor swiveled her hands in an okay-let’s-get-on-with-it motion. So what’s the plan?

Taylor noticed that both Charlie and Todd visibly tensed. She rolled her eyes skyward. God, how much friggin’ worse could this get?

Silence surrounded them for several seconds, and Taylor could take it no longer. What? she asked sharply.

Well ... we need to acquire funding for all the things—

Taylor had a sudden epiphany, "Wait, why aren’t we just selling all the crap Cedric bought? Why aren’t we getting the funds that way?

Because he was a moron, Todd said quickly.

Taylor looked to Todd. That is the smartest thing you have ever said. Care to elaborate?

Todd just looked disgusted. He bought everything as himself, good old Cedric Preston. He had no middleman or pseudonym. People saw him coming from a mile away, and they raised prices beyond market value, seeing only dollar signs. Todd shook his head as he reiterated the tale to Taylor. And dumbass Cedric questioned nothing, just bought. Even if we sold everything, we would never recoup all the losses.

Wow, even Taylor knew you shouldn’t do that. Walt Disney used fake investors to buy the land for Disney World, , so the prices wouldn’t be driven up because of his name, for crying out loud. It was Billionaire 101.

But his purchases were not all bad, Charlie cut in. When investors and holders saw him buying, and spending, they assumed things were going well, and stocks rose slightly. All the questions about how well we were really doing stopped coming. So to rush out and sell his, uh, acquisitions and such would cause commotion that Preston Corp. just cannot afford.

Taylor was baffled, Hasn’t his death caused commotion as it is?

Charlie and Todd looked at each other quickly and then at the floor.

Taylor had a light-bulb moment. Let me guess, no one knows?

The silence that followed was all the answer she needed.

What did he do?

Overdose, Todd explained.

Yeah, well that figures, Taylor muttered to herself. Cedric was so selfish he would die making sure he got himself the highest of all. When?

Todd looked at his watch, About ten hours ago, give or take.

Taylor’s eyes widened. They hadn’t wasted anytime. So, where is he, and who else knows?

He’s on ice, Todd quipped.

In a private morgue, Charlie added more eloquently. Only Todd and I know his whereabouts. Well he, I, and two others.

And the two other people would be ...?

Charlie looked to Todd, who nodded to him, and then Charlie took another deep breath before he continued. You see, Taylor, Preston Corp. cannot continue on without money to fix errors in the way it has been run. We need money to fix buildings, and make updates, we need ...

How much? Taylor asked, rubbing her temples, trying to process all of this. To think that this morning she had been worried about whether or not she had brewed regular in the decaf coffee station. Damn, that stress was like heaven to what she felt right now. How much do we need?

More than you have in your trusts, Charlie said, answering both the spoken and unspoken questions.

It was worth a shot, Taylor mused to herself. Okay, then, how much do we need?

Approximately 189 million dollars.

Taylor gawked at him. Oh my God. That was insane. How do we get that kind of money? Do we go to a bank? Or a lot of banks? This was exactly why she did not belong running a company, Taylor thought, she had no idea how to handle something like this.

No, Charlie answered quickly, word of this cannot get out. Going to banks will make the public lose confidence in Preston Corp. Public opinion is already dwindling, and if this gets out, it will make any confidence we still have disappear—and that would be near impossible to repair.

Taylor nodded, taking it all in. That made sense, she couldn’t help people keep their jobs if no one would do business with the corporation, and business dealings would be gone if anyone found out they were broke. Okay, so is there a plan?

Yes, Charlie said softly, hesitantly. There is a company who is willing to assist with financing.

Taylor took a second to evaluate the two men before her. Okay, she said slowly, hesitantly. Who?

Fletcher Enterprises.

In the same second that Charlie answered, Todd knocked on a door in the back of the plane. She really had forgotten how big this freaking plane was. There was a whole suite behind them, and after the knock from Todd, it opened and out walked two men. Simon Fletcher and his son Derrick stood before Taylor now.

The thought Oh God, no ran laps around Taylor’s mind. She knew she was gawking, but she could not compose herself.

Hello, Taylor, Simon said, breaking the silence. He reached out a hand and touched her cheek. Taylor noticed he had a cane, and he was thinner than when she had seen him about seven years ago. You look different, he said, smiling, taking in her wild hair and glasses.

Taylor’s eyes cut between father and son, and her breath caught in her chest. She had not seen Derrick in just as long as his father, except for the times his gorgeous face graced magazine covers or tabloids left around the coffee shop. She and Derrick had been close once, and then, well, they just weren’t anymore.

Hi, Tay, Derrick said quietly, a small smile on his perfect lips. He stood behind his father and made no move to come closer. It both infuriated and relieved her.

Taylor took in a deep breath. She needed to keep a clear head. She had business to handle.

She looked up to Simon, Hi, Simon, she said, and the quake in her voice was repulsive to her own ears. Clearing her throat, she tried again, So, your company is willing to help Preston Corp.?

Simon’s eyes softened as they looked at Taylor. Yes, yes we are, Taylor.

Derrick leaned in and whispered to his father and then nodded to a chair. Simon nodded back and sat. It was weird; this was not how their interactions usually went, at least not what she remembered from their past. These two had always been as far apart as possible. Perhaps things had changed; Taylor wondered at the reason behind it.

Charlie interrupted Taylor’s assessment of the interaction. Todd and I contacted Mr. Fletcher because we knew that the Preston and Fletcher families have always been so close and that they would understand, he explained. We have been in discussions on how we can keep Preston Corp. afloat until we start to turn a significant profit, make the necessary repairs, and reinstate a new board of trustees—

Hold on, Taylor said, trying to keep her mind in the present. This all went down in the last ten hours?

Uh no, Charlie said, swallowing as he chose his next words, but Todd jumped in and answered for him. There was an obvious decline in the functioning of the corporation under Cedric’s rule. So, no, discussions didn’t begin ten hours ago—planning started months ago. That made more sense, but Taylor needed to digest this whole conversation later. For now, moving forward was the name of the game, All right, go on, she encouraged Charlie, keenly aware of everyone’s gaze on her, especially Derrick’s.

Charlie nodded and started to pace, his familiar meeting pace Taylor had seen dozens of times before when she had gone to meetings with father or grandfather. "Together, Taylor, Fletcher Enterprises, and we have come to see that saving Preston Corporation isn’t just about money. Even with money, once Cedric’s death comes out and you take over, stocks may still plummet.

But, you see, Taylor, Charlie continued, it’s not just about how many businesses Preston Corp. has, it’s also about public perception. Preston Corp. has always been a family-run organization that represents the American dream and services all walks of life. Unfortunately, Cedric dragged that reputation through the mud, and we need to revive it, we need to restore faith, we need to show people that Preston Corp. has not turned into an industry that is turning out spoiled brats with endless spending accounts.

Well, that was the shittiest motivational speech ever, Taylor decided.

I don’t get it. I thought you said his buying made people more optimistic.

It did, but it’s not enough. Cedric hasn’t actually been seen in public or heard from in about a month. Prior to that, all his, um, handlings were performed via phone, email, or courier. Preston has always been a face-to-face, handshake organization, and that was what your grandfather wanted to perpetuate, even through the electronic age. People like to handle big business the old fashioned way with handshakes,  with face to face interaction. The fact that no one has seen a Preston in a month does not present that character to anyone.

Taylor nodded, Charlie was good at this, and he was selling her. And he was right—her grandfather had wanted it that way, and she would do anything for him Okay, so what do we need to do?

We need to give the public, our supporters, what they want, Taylor, Charlie’s enthusiasm spilled over. In order to obtain new clients and more investors, we need to show them we at Preston Corp. still stand behind the same old traditions. We need to draw positive attention.

Taylor just stared. Charlie was staring at her, and she supposed this was where she said aha and pieced everything together, but instead Taylor just shrugged, looking at him for more answers.

We need you to draw positive attention, Charlie said, nodding as if that clarified things.

Taylor took a shot in the dark, So, I need to have meetings face to face, do interviews, and come up with new ideas? she guessed.

Well, yes, that’s a start, Charlie said encouragingly but looking stressed again.

Taylor rolled her eyes in frustration. Can you just tell me already? she barked out, restraining herself from