Arranged •{ONC 2020}•

《 Chapter Two 》

To Ashlynn's dismay, the answer did not come to her in a dream. Rather, the answer she wanted did not come to her in a dream. Instead, she woke the next morning with a pounding headache and images of chapels floating through her head. That was not what she wanted at all.

Her self-pity party was interrupted when María all but kicked down the door to drag her out of bed, exclaiming something about funeral arrangements and invitations. Ashlynn simply rolled over and resumed her pouting. A mistake, really. One does not ignore a five-foot-two Latina without severe consequences.

"Tú tienes hasta que cuente hasta tres para salir de la cama..." María warned, a threat that had worked wonders in the past. "Uno...Dos..."

Ashlynn shot out of bed, her fear of the Latina far outweighing the dread of marriage. Her butt still stung from the first—and last—time she had ignored María when she was five. She couldn't sit down for three days afterwards.

María smiled warmly at her, as if she hadn't just been about to whoop her behind into next week. "Brunch is ready in the dining room. Your aunt and the lawyer are waiting for you."

Ashlynn wriggled out of the blankets she had wrapped around her. It was a wonder she hadn't fallen flat on her face earlier. Now she wished she had. If she had a bloody nose, she wouldn't have to hear the lawyer tell her about the marriage requirements again.

"Chica," María stopped her from leaving the room. "I suggest you change your clothes. Eres muy apestosa!"

Ashlynn couldn't help but crack a smile at the funny face María made. "I smell perfectly fine, thank you very much. But I will change because I'm tired of wearing these stupid pants."

She changed out of the 'stupid pants' and went down to the dining room. Aunt Leah was looking over some documents while the lawyer dug into a heap of pancakes. Ashlynn took the seat across from the lawyer and spooned scrambled eggs onto her plate.

"Good morning, Ashlynn," Aunt Leah set the papers down and removed her reading glasses. "Feeling better?"

"Honestly? No." Ashlynn took a bite of her eggs and watched the lawyer pour syrup onto his pancakes. He really didn't need more syrup; the poor pancakes were already drowning in it. She almost told him so, but figured it would be wise to stay on his good side. He was, after all, the man who would ultimately decide whether she would receive her inheritance.

"Hana stopped by on her way to work. I think she wants to take you out somewhere on Sunday. Oh, and Jamison called—he said he and the family will be here on Friday." Aunt Leah took a sip from her steaming coffee mug.

"Sounds great," Ashlynn replied unenthusiastically. As much as she would love to go out with her best friend and visit with her family, she would much rather be curled up alone in her bed. Her bed was her safe place—her only safe place, now, as it was the only way for her to escape from the looming doom of marriage. She picked up a roll and opened the jar of quince preserves. "Why's he here?"

The lawyer looked quite offended by Ashlynn pointing a butter knife at him, but he did an excellent job of hiding it in his voice. "Your parents had some special requests in regards to their funeral. Your great aunt and I were going over some of the finer details. That," he paused for emphasis and swallowed a dripping bite of pancakes, "and we have more to discuss about this marriage of yours."

Ashlynn quirked her eyebrow at him and glanced at her aunt. "I thought we agreed to deal with this next week, after the funeral?"

Aunt Leah took another sip from her mug and looked at the lawyer expectantly. He sighed, "I understand your annoyance with this, Miss Whittaker, but we can't put it off forever. If you don't claim your inheritance within thirty days of your parents' passing, you will not see a penny of it."