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“Good as it can be. I’m calling because I talked to the lawyer again. The executor of my grandmother’s will. I made sure I have all the requirements she set forth for me to receive my inheritance. Thought it would be good for me to lay everything on the table before you make any kind of decision.”
“Yeah. Of course.” I carefully place a handful of books in a moving box. “Definitely want all the facts before I decide.”
“Here it goes. Also, I warn you, my grandmother was a smart, tricky woman. She left me no loopholes to jump through as far as I can tell.”
“Okay. Lay it on me.”
“First off, the marriage, obviously. But the wording is that I need to be married when I turn thirty, and the inheritance will be paid out to me in monthly installments for a year as long as I remain married during that time.”
Married to Luna for a year. Not looking like a bad deal yet.
“And like I said, we can come up with a percentage of each payment you think is fair for you to receive. Or a lump sum at the end.”
I wonder if I blacked out for part of the original discussion because I do not remember any talk of me getting paid. The idea has me itchy. I don’t want to take Luna’s money.
“Don’t you need all of it for your brother?”
“If we stay together the full year, there should be fifty thousand that won’t go to my uncle.”
“I don’t want your money, Luna.”
A longer pause. “Sorry to have bothered you then. I’ll find another way.”
Panic ups my voice a few notches. “Wait! That’s not what I’m saying.”
The line is silent for a beat.
“Then what are you saying?”
“That you don’t need to pay me to help you out. I’ll do it with no money required.”
I wish Luna and I were talking face to face so I could get a better read on what these stretches of silence mean.
“You don’t know all the stipulations. You have to want something.”
Yeah, more time with you. The vibrant, badass woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking of since that damned yacht party.
“Why don’t you just tell me what the rest of the rules are?”
A sigh. “Okay. We need to live together during our marriage. Now, this is the big one. And the only reason I brought this all up is because you said you wanted to move back to the States. I figured you can move in with me in Nashville and take the year we’re married to figure out what you want to do next in your career.” She huffs out a noise that sounds close enough to a laugh to ease my nerves. “I’ll be your sugar momma.”
Unfortunately, I was drinking tea during that last comment. Luckily, I was facing away from my books when I did a spit take, spraying some towels instead.
“My what?” I choke out.
“Your sugar momma. Like sugar daddy, but I’m the one supporting you financially.”
I’m busy wiping spit and Earl Grey off my chin as I work through her words. “You’re planning on supporting me? And paying me? How do you get any money out of this deal?”
“Creative budgeting.”
That sounds like a lot more work than it’s worth. Especially because I don’t want a paycheck from this arrangement.
“Fine.” I give in, but only for the moment. “What’s the rest?”
“We have to do a hobby together from a list she has and provide video evidence of us doing the activity the length of our marriage.”
I settle on my couch. “A hobby? Why a hobby?”
