“You are, aren't you?” He laughed. “Shit.”
I was on the verge of a full fledged panic attack. I could feel my heart starting to race, and my face starting to feel flush. My entire body was on fire now, and it took everything I had just to breathe. I was seconds away from hyperventilating, and that's when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped in my seat, turning my head to see who it was.
“Owen.” I said standing abruptly, and hugging him tightly.
I felt his arms wrap around me, and his lips brush against the top of my head. I wanted to cry. I had let my thoughts consume me, losing sight of the real reason that I was here with Derek in the first place. I pulled away from him then, just enough to look up into his eyes.
“Have you heard?” I asked, with concern.
He nodded his head, and I pulled him back against me.
“I'm so sorry, Owen.”
“What's going on?” Derek asked.
“Someone murdered my father.” Owen said.
I turned in his arms to face Derek, and the look on his face was complete, and utter shock. He started to shake his head in disbelief, and then he ran his hands through his hair.
“You're lying.”
“Why would I make something like this up?”
“Maybe because you can't stand the fact that I was replacing you!”
“Replacing me?” Owen snapped, as he gently moved me aside.
“This has to be some kind of ploy. What are you trying to do? Stall until your lawyers can find a way to over turn the will?”
“There's no over turning it.” Owen said with defeat. “You've won.”
Derek smiled wide, before he started laughing with glee. Owen's jaw clenched, and I reached for his arm. He closed his eyes, and whispered something under his breath before placing his free hand over mine.
“Can we go upstairs, please?” He asked.
“Of course.” I said, ignoring Derek's hysterics.
I could still hear him laughing as we stepped into the elevator. When the doors closed, Owen leaned his head back against the wall, and sighed. I reached for his hand rubbing my thumb over it, and my stomach grumbled loudly in the silence.
“I'm sorry.” I said, with embarrassment.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I had lunch.... yesterday.”
“You need to take care of yourself, Unicorn.”
“I'm fine. I'm more worried about you right now.”
The elevator doors popped open then, and the two of us made our way back to my apartment. When we stepped inside Owen immediately opened the fridge.
“You need to get groceries.” He said, closing it again.
“Owen... we need to talk about your dad.”
“Why don't we order some Chinese? Thai maybe? It's been a while since I've had-”
“Owen.” I insisted. “Please.”
“What do you want me to say, Ronnie? He's dead. There aren't any loopholes in the will, and I can't contest it because it was written, and notarized too long ago. He was in his right mind. Unless I manage to get married, and have a child before next year It's over.”
“So there is a loophole.” I said, with hope.
“Not a realistic one.”
“Right.” I agreed, before heading into the living room to pick up the mess I'd left earlier.
While he was lost in thought, I used the distraction to send Morgan a quick text. I needed a pregnancy test, and after everything I've done for her I knew she'd come through. I shoved my phone back into my pocket, and quickly grabbed my dirty dishes.
I tossed the plate into the garbage, and poured the glass of milk down the sink. The smell from the warm milk made me crinkle my nose, and before I knew it I was running to the bathroom. I could hear Owen fast on my heels, but I didn't have time to worry about that now. I managed to make it to the bathroom before vomiting up the bit of milk I'd had earlier.
“Are you alright?” Owen asked, as he came to sit beside me on the bathroom floor.
“Sour milk.” I shrugged, before pulling myself up.
I quickly brushed, and rinsed my teeth as Owen stood watching from the doorway with concern. Why did Derek have to put the idea of being pregnant in my head? It was probably food poisoning, or a stomach bug of some kind. When I was finished, I made my way towards him and placed my hands on either side of his face.
“I'm fine.” I said with conviction. “What can I do? What do you need?”
“I honestly don't even know. I spent so much of my life running from the family business, but now that I could lose it... I'm not sure how I feel.”
“Let me just play devil's advocate for a second, alright?”
He nodded, and I continued.
“What if you don't fight Derek? What if you let him run the business? You're still part owner right? What's the worst he can do?”
“If he sells his majority ownership, there will be no going back.”
“Maybe you can offer to buy him out?”
He laughed. “I don't have that kind of money, Ronnie.”
“What about a business loan?”
“I get paid by the song. It's not like I have a regular paycheck.”
“Alright, what about an investor then?”
“An investor?” He asked, arching a brow skeptically.
“Morgan's father invests in anything that can make him money. Foster's Furniture is a trusted, well known family run business. Who wouldn't want their name attached to that?”
“I'd be exchanging one partner for another, and from what I've heard about Jeremy Astor... he's a real piece of work.”
“I'm sure there are other investors. I could reach out to-”
“No.” He said stopping me. “I'm out of options. It's time that I admit my mistakes, and learn to live with them.”
He was done with this conversation. Nothing I said, or did at this point would be
