"I am," he says after a short pause, his voice wavering momentarily, like he isn't sure which part of his bombshell news I'm reacting to.
"Let me see if I've got this straight. Grandpa Arnie is leaving the inn to me and not his one and only daughter, but only on the condition that I'm…married?"
Perry gives a sharp, businesslike nod. "Correct. And that you remain in Clovelly for at least six months," he says, reiterating the second clause.
"Yeah. That part. That sounds like house arrest to me."
"No, no." He does that gross thing of licking his fingers as he flips through the pages to find whatever section of the will he's looking for. "It just stipulates that you have to permanently reside here. You are free to leave for the occasional trip…but not so often or so far that the town stops feeling like home," he reads aloud.
I shake my head, unable to make sense of this. Why didn't anyone tell me Grandpa Arnie had taken up smoking pot in his old age? "Is any of this legal?"
"What do you mean?"
"Can my grandfather seriously force me to marry someone and live here for six months?"
"He's not forcing you to do anything," Perry replies matter-of-factly. "These are simply conditions he's laid out, which you are free to either accept or reject."
I sink back into the seat and run a hand through my hair. "This has all the hallmarks of the beginning of a horrible JLO romcom," I mutter, still reeling from the news.
Perry's lips quiver, and I think he might be…trying to smile? "As long as you don't marry your best friend and fall in love with them, I'm sure it won't be that bad."
I glare at him, unimpressed.
He clears his throat. "Right, well." He collects the scattered papers and squares them up against the edge of his desk. "It looks like you have a big decision to make. Good thing your grandfather left a provision in the will giving you some time to do just that."
"How much time?"
"You have one week."
"One week to find someone to marry me and plan a wedding is not a lot of time."
He serves me a look that falls somewhere between smugness and self-pity. "That's what it states. Otherwise the inn will be sold, and proceeds will be distributed between yourself and several charities your grandfather was involved with."
"The inn can't be sold. It's been in our family for generations. I practically grew up there."
"Like I told you, Dr. Matthews, the innisyours…provided you meet the terms your grandfather laid out in his will."
Well,fuck.
7
Buzz
"Man, I haven't been here in years," I say, joining Court in the inn's charming restaurant. "Hasn't changed at all."
"I know. It's nice, isn't it? Familiar."
"Sure is." I brace myself on the table and lean forward. "Does that mean our tree house is still here?"
His eyebrows lift. "I don't know. We can go have a look after lunch."
I nod eagerly. "Let's do it."
"Sure. And how are you feeling today?"
"Much better. In breaking news, humans need sleep."
He smiles wryly. "You don't say."
