“I hate to prove you wrong.” I take a beat. “But my mom already picked out my bride.”
Chapter Three
Bridger
“STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”
Loren shoves me. Another understandable reaction.
“Wish I could.”
She gawks for a moment. “You aren’t seriously talking about a full-on arranged marriage. Are you?”
“Yep. My mother. Her father. Just a couple of parents using their only children to merge their empires for personal gain. Totally normal.”
“Holy wow.” Loren’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Talk about a tale as old as time.”
“Older.”
Her lids flutter. Probably swatting away cobwebs of disbelief. “So you’re telling me if you don’t take this pre-selected woman to be your wife, you’ll lose all your money?”
“Not exactly, no. But as trustee, my mother could do enough damage that accessing the money becomes nearly impossible.”
“Like … what kind of damage?”
“All kinds,” I say.
“More specific, please.”
Specific? Yeah. I can do that. In fact, I’ve read so many of her emails, I’ve got the threats pretty much memorized. I can even use air quotes around the very best lawyer-speak.
“As trustee,” I begin, “my mom could ‘demand excessive documentation’ for ‘any and all transactions.’ Or she could ‘narrowly interpret’ the term ‘appropriate use of funds.’ She could also ‘slow-walk future approvals’ of my requests. She could ‘delay disbursements of monies’, and tie things up in?—”
“Hold up!” Loren cuts me off and points a finger directly at my face. “Did you just saymonies?”
My mouth twitches. “One of my mother’s favorite words.”
“I’m sorry, but anyone who pluralizes the wordmoneyis just trying to cause trouble.”
“You’re not wrong.”
She takes a beat, mouth still opening and shutting wordlessly. And I don’t blame her.
“Nowonderyou walked away from the trust,” she says at last. “And I’m glad you suspended the donations. At least now you don’t have to marry … umm … what’s her name?”
“Rosalind,” I say. “Rosalind Winthrop Barrington.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Loren bites back a smirk. “She sounds … expensive.”
“According to my mom, expensive Rosalind was actually down for the marriage. Or up for the marriage. Or whatever.”
“Flattering, I guess?”
I clear my throat. “The thing is, though, since Rosalindiswilling, it’s not too late for me to go through with it.”