“Such as?” I ask.
“Were you not in a relationship with one…” He squints down at one of his pieces of paper. “...Lane Beretto until quite recently?”
My stomach twists, leaving me slightly nauseous. I won’t be able to answer his question honestly without things looking questionable, and I don’t like the idea of lying. But I have to say something. “My relationship with Lane was a product of the TV show, Mr. Vanderman.”
“Be that as it may, its recent nature still calls into question the strength of this union and its likelihood of surviving.” Not one to mince words, Mr. V.
Coop snorts a little laugh, which I don’t appreciate, but it’s King who speaks up. “What are you insinuating?” he growls, sitting up a little straighter.
Mr. Vanderman’s lips curl up in the slightest of smiles. “I am only suggesting Miss Carpenter—”
“Mrs.”
“—has a history of flightiness that speaks of an inability to commit to more than—”
“That’s enough!” King jumps to his feet, and I’m glad I’m still gripping his hand because otherwise he might actually throw a punch. “Mr. Vanderman, I’m going to ask you one time to stop speaking to my wife like that. If you’re incapable of being professional, maybe it’s time for you to retire. I am more than happy to hire a new attorney to handle the estate, and the only reason I’ve kept you is because you were Uncle Bill’s friend.” He looks down his nose at the old man. “Can’t see why, though.”
I know this moment is serious and that I should be incredibly offended by the way Vanderman is treating me, and I am. But good glory my husband is attractive. I don’t think I’ve ever had a man defend me the way King did just now, and my whole body is buzzing as I stare up at his clenched jaw and fiery eyes. If Lane had ever done that on the show, our ratings would have shot up like crazy.
Someone clears their throat behind us, and it takes me a second to realize it’s Cecily. She has a hand in the air and an excited smile on her face. “If I may offer a suggestion,” she says to Mr. Vanderman.
The attorney, who turned a healthy shade of red when King shouted at him, narrows his eyes. “What?” he snaps.
Cecily isn’t bothered by his incivility. “Maybe, given the circumstances of their quick engagement and subsequent nuptials, Mr. Kingston and Mrs. Carpenter might benefit from the services of a marriage counselor?”
The blood rushes from my face, leaving me dizzy. What is she doing?
King snarls a little. “We’re fine. I don’t think we need—”
“Oh, counseling is beneficial for couples of all dispositions,” Cecily says to him. She’s put on her serious therapist voice, which is so different from her usual bubbly personality that it always catches me off guard when I hear it. “Even the strongest of marriages have found advantages in having an objective third party involved in keeping their relationship on a solid foundation.” She looks at Mr. Vanderman again. “I would be happy to offer my assistance as you ascertain the viability of transferring ownership from husband to wife.”
Coop scoffs, one eyebrow raised high. I honestly can’t tell if he thinks my friend is insane or a genius. I’m wondering the same thing myself.
“I think a week or two of observation and facilitated conversation with a licensed professional could ease your mind on the matter,” Cecily continues, and then she hurries forward to hand the attorney her card, smashing herself between the two of us.
I grip King’s hand tighter, in case he thinks of letting go now that Cecily is inserting herself into our lives and leaning against our arms. Right now, I need to know we’re in this together; it will be a whole lot easier to murder my best friend if I have an accomplice.
Mr. Vanderman stares at the card for a long while, his thoughts practically visible behind his eyes, and then he lifts a cold gaze to King. “You will understand that I only want to follow William Kingston’s wishes on this matter.”
King grows even more tense than before.
“But…” Mr. Vanderman sighs. “I suppose I have no legitimate reasons to claim your marriage is not going to last. I am not a prophet. If you will agree to two weeks of observation”—he eyes Cecily with suspicion—“with a professional I will choose for you, then—”
“No.” I swallow, feeling four sets of eyes on me. “I will talk to Dr. Preston, but anyone from Willow Cove will have bias in the matter.”
“Dr. Preston is your friend,” Mr. Vanderman argues with a roll of his eyes. “If anyone is going to have bias…”
I shake my head, pleased when Cecily keeps her expression firm. “No, see, Cecily wants me to move back to New York where she is, so if she says my marriage to King is sound, you’ll know she means it. And if she doesn’t, then you’ll all win. But this marriage is real, so it doesn’t matter.” It’s real, but that doesn’t mean it’s lasting.
King’s expression is hard to see with Cecily standing between us, but I feel his reaction to my words in the twitch of his hand. I wish I knew what it meant.
“I do want her to move back,” Cecily allows. “But I am also firmly professional when it comes to my occupation. If Mr. Kingston is also agreeable to my services, free of charge, of course, as this would not be official counseling due to my relationship with Mrs. Carpenter, then may we proceed?”
Mr. Vanderman looks like he wants to keep arguing, but I think he’s smart enough to know King will likely follow through with his threat and find another attorney to handle our case. I’m pretty sure the only reason King is still willing to work with Vanderman in the first place is because of his friendship with Bill, but that loyalty is waning.
Mr. Vanderman sighs heavily. “Very well. We will reconvene in two weeks, and if Dr. Preston’s report deems this relationship to be healthy and lasting, then we can proceed with our discussions.”
He’s not specifically saying he’ll transfer the bakery to me, but I think this is as good as I’ll get from this guy. I don’t love the idea of spending two more weeks in a marriage with King while there’s still the possibility that it will be for nothing, but I didn’t come into this thinking it was a guarantee. I can handle a few challenges.
Cecily turns to King. “Well, Kingston? Think you can survive a couple of weeks of counseling with your wife’s most favorite person?”
She’s pushing buttons because that’s what she does, and I’m not sure that’s a good idea when it comes to King. He has been more relaxed since the first day I arrived in Willow Cove now that he’s not worried about the bakery, but he’s certainly tense enough right now to snap at her like he did Mr. Vanderman.
To my shock and relief, King leans around Cecily to smile at me. “I thought I was your favorite person.”
I can’t help but smile back at him. “It’s a toss-up. Cecily used to make me smoothies every morning.”
“That’s a tough act to follow.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Are we done now?” Coop asks, interrupting our back-and-forth. “Some of us have jobs. Including the two of you. Jury’s out on Princess Shrink and her fancy doctorate.”
Scoffing, Cecily grabs hold of my hand, which is still clinging to King’s, and tugs us toward the door. “Anyone with a real job has the ability to take a vacation.”
Coop barks out a laugh as he follows us out the exit. “I have a real job.”
“I will believe that when I see it, Mr. Heyes.”
