Chapter 3
Key West, Florida
Charli released a rough breath and closed her eyes when Jack shut the door behind him. She had known this trip would be difficult and take her a bit to get her bearings. But change was anathema to her and lately all it seemed she had was change.
Over the last few days, her career had gone from soaring success into an unexpected freefall, she learned that her favorite aunt had passed away, and now she was over a thousand miles from home and her regular routine.
To top it all off, a too-handsome-to-be-real carpenter had held her on the balcony while she sobbed pathetically on his shoulder. She cringed at the mental image.
Just perfect, Charli. He probably thinks you’re crazy.
She released a rough breath and looked around the kitchen, spotting the packet Art had left her. She absently thumbed through it, noting that it was mostly local information, something you’d get as a new homeowner. Charli scoffed.
Exactly how long did he think she was staying down here?
Her stomach grumbled loudly, and it dawned on Charli that she hadn’t eaten since the night before.
The thought of trudging to a grocery store made her grimace and she opened the refrigerator with a hopeful prayer.
Her mouth dropped in amazement to see it full of basic items—milk, eggs, bread, fresh produce.
The freezer and pantry were the same. There was even coffee and creamer available.
Charli glanced around in confusion. Art and his assistant had certainly rolled out the red carpet and anticipated her every need. But why?
Her belly rumbled again in protest, the sounds of which could probably be heard across the street, and she huffed, deciding on eggs and coffee. Everything else could wait until after breakfast.
Two hours later, after a hot shower and a change into something more appropriate to the climate, Charli walked the two blocks to Art Murray’s office feeling much better.
Truthfully—and despite her tough reputation—she had been dreading this meeting since receiving the letter.
But now, after a cool shower and refresh, she felt fortified and ready to face whatever Aunt Dottie had left for her to deal with.
She took a deep breath of the tropical, salty air and smiled, tilting her face up to bask in the sun. There was something magical about Key West—the climate, the carefree attitude, and the promise of an excellent margarita—that just seemed to mellow a person out.
Jack’s words came back to her. It’s the best place in the world.
At that moment, Charli agreed with him.
She turned the corner onto Petronia Street and spotted her destination across the narrow road.
It was a quaint one-story light blue house that had been converted into a law office designated by a prominent sign in the yard.
With its large covered front porch, white picket fence, huge palm trees, and classic white Bahama shutters, it looked like the quintessential tropical dream home.
As Charli walked up the porch steps, the front door swung open and a smiling young woman stepped out. “You must be Charli,” she said, extending a hand out in greeting.
Charli nodded and shook the young woman’s hand. “Are you Theresa?”
“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 prepared to 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 this morning.” 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 and testament, 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 trustee and 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 has been 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.