“I am. Did you have any problems this morning?”
“No,” Charli responded. “Everything went smoothly. Thank you so much for your help in arranging everything. Jack was there to pick me up as soon as I stepped off the plane and the kitchen was stocked perfectly. It was incredibly thoughtful, but you really shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.”
“Oh, it was no problem at all. It was my pleasure,” Theresa chirped, waving a hand in the air. She gestured toward a closed door down the hall. “They’re waiting for you in the conference room. Can I get you a water or some coffee?”
Charli’s stomach twisted as she followed Theresa down the hall. “A water would be great. Thank you.” She took a deep breath as she stepped into the room, flashing back to the last time she was shown into a conference room, which had ended as a disaster of biblical proportions. Because of the circumstances, this time around was much more gut wrenching.
As she entered the room, Charli stopped short when she spotted Jack leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, arms folded across his chest. He had cleaned up as well and was dressed for the occasion. His brown hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and it framed his face in waves, nearly touching the collar of his polo shirt in the back. The deep green polo shirt complimented his tanned skin, giving him a slightly exotic air as if he were preparedto lead an African safari, and his khakis completed the look.
“Jack,” she blurted. “I wasn’t expecting you here.” He only nodded and smiled tightly in response and Charli noted the tension on his face. He looked as anxious about this meeting as she was.
“He’s named in the will.” The response came from an older gentleman seated at the head of the conference table. He stood and stepped around the table, holding out a hand in greeting. “I’m Art Murray. It’s nice to finally meet you, Charli, despite the unfortunate circumstances.”
“You too, Mr. Murray,” Charli answered, shaking his hand.
“Please call me Art,” he replied just as Jack had predicted, and then turned toward the table. “Let me introduce you to the other attendees.” He gestured to his right. “This is Flora Grant and Hazel Simmons. They’re representing the Royal Conch Society.”
The two ladies jumped up from their seats and offered their hands in turn. “We’re so happy to meet you, dear. Dottie spoke of you often.”
Charli forced a smile and shook their hands politely, then followed Art as he continued the introductions. “This is Max Davis from the Key West Botanical Garden, Marsha Williams from the Artist Guild of Key West, and you met Jack earlier thismorning.” He waved his hand toward the table. “Well, everyone is here, so please have a seat and we’ll get started.”
After Charli and Jack took their seats, Art looked around the table, the corner of his mouth lifting. “This isn’t really how the reading of a will is handled anymore, but you all knew Dottie and her flair for the dramatic. She wanted everyone physically in the room together as I outlined her last wishes and their stipulations.”
“Oh, yes,” agreed Flora. She waved her hand in the air. “This is all very Dottie-esque, and I’m sure she’s here watching over us to make sure it goes exactly as she planned.”
Art nodded patiently. “Yes, I’m sure she is. Now as I begin...” His gaze shifted to Flora, focusing on her. “I’d ask that you all remain silent until I’m finished as there are some extraordinary details and conditions that require the attention of everyone here.”
He eyed Flora and Hazel, seeming to wait for their acknowledgement before he continued. Then he looked down at the papers in his hand, cleared his throat, and began to read.
“I, Dorothea Rose Campbell, being of sound mind and body, do declare this to be my last will andtestament, and do hereby revoke any and all wills I previously made.”
Charli zoned out slightly as Art continued to read through the standard legal jargon that established the legitimacy of the will. Her mind still circled Art’s previous comments. Extraordinary details and conditions? Her lip curled at that thought. Why did that seem ominous?
What in the world has Aunt Dottie stipulated? Good lord—I’m not supposed to sacrifice a chicken at the full moon, am I?
She had a sneaking suspicion that she was at the center of it but couldn’t figure out how—her life was in Boston. She snapped to attention as Art reached the bequests.
“To the Artist Guild of Key West, I bequeath my property on East Caroline Street and have established a trust for the maintenance of that property. Arthur Murray has been designated as the trustee and will ensure that the trust is handled appropriately.”
Art stopped and pursed his lips, looking at Marsha who wept silently into a tissue. He then glanced at Max before continuing.
“To the Key West Botanical Garden, I leave my property on South Street and have established a trust for the maintenance and expansion plans for that property. Arthur Murray is designated as the trusteeand will work with the organization to ensure that all conditions I have outlined are met fully.”
Art looked up from the paper. “I will give you the list of conditions after this meeting, and I’m certain you will be pleased with her requests,” he assured Max, who swallowed awkwardly and gave a firm nod in response.
Art took a deep breath and turned the paper over. “To the Royal Conch Society, I leave my interest in the property on North Whitehead Street, my percentage in the Key West Museum, and all historical documents pertaining to the bed and breakfast located on Thomas Street, known as Paradise West. In addition, I have established a trust to finance the organization’s various projects. My niece, Charlotte Harris, is designated as the trustee and my membership in the Society transferred to her upon my death.”
Charli’s eyebrows shot up and she glanced at Hazel and Flora who both nodded at the conditions. This was an unexpected surprise.
Art paused for a moment and glanced pointedly at Jack.
“To John Michael Sullivan, I leave my property on Virginia Street. This home was originally built by the first Sullivan family members on Key West and should be returned to its rightful owners. A trust hasbeen established to provide for any renovations or upkeep that is deemed necessary. Arthur Murray is designated as the trustee and will assist as needed.”
Charli peeked down the table at Jack, noting his wide eyes and overall dumbfounded expression. Aunt Dottie must have thought quite a bit of Jack to not only include him in her will, but to leave him a valuable property and the funds to renovate and maintain it.
“To my beloved great-niece and namesake, Charlotte Dorothea Harris.” Charli’s throat tightened at that phrase and willed herself not to cry. “I leave my car, my property located at 810 Thomas Avenue and all the belongings contained therein. A trust has been established for its maintenance and Arthur Murray is designated as the trustee.”
Charli stared at the opposite wall blankly, digesting the information. Art cleared his throat and Charli’s eyes shot to him. He looked deliberately at her and then at Jack.
