Page 7 of Doctor Grump

“Hold on. I think I’m out of the loop.” Kayla looked between us. “Who is the count, and why is it bad that he’s here?”

“He’s a wealthy billionaire that her parents have been trying to hook her up with,” Lucia volunteered. “Some old European geezer.”

“Oh. How old?”

“Nearly seventy,” I told her with a roll of my eyes.

Kayla cringed and muttered, “Oh wow, that is old.”

“Yeah,” Faith concurred. “I know we all have age gaps with our husbands, but that’s a bit much.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And that’s not even the worst of it. If it was just the age thing, maybe I could stomach it. But he’s also very strange. Get this, so the count has been married twice before, and both his wives died under ‘mysterious circumstances.’ Two car accidents right after another. Can you believe that?”

“No, actually.” Kayla frowned. “That is some seriously bad luck.”

“Yes. But who’s to say he had nothing to do with it?”

“Piper, that might be a bit far-fetched,” Lucia said with a wry look.

“No, it’s not. I mean, these things always seem far-fetched, but they happen all the time. Husbands turning out to be serial killers, boyfriends becoming stalkers. And to be honest, I don’t want to risk my future on a man who may or may not have killed his ex-wives.”

Faith was silent when I said that, and she even paled. I immediately felt regret. Sometimes my big mouth got me into trouble simply because I didn’t know when to shut up. I completely forgot that Faith had a bad history with her first boyfriend, who had stalked and nearly killed her.

“Damn,” I murmured. “Sorry, Faith. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s fine.” She gave me a weak smile. “You didn’t bring up any bad memories. Trust me.”

I knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but dwelling on it would probably only make it worse, so I gave her an apologetic look and said nothing else.

“So why do you have to marry him?” Kayla asked.

“It’s complicated,” I said with a sigh. “But essentially, my parents want him to invest in their new company and pay off their debt. For some reason, they think the only way he will do that is if they also simultaneously offer him my hand in marriage.”

“Okay, but that’s not fair,” Kayla said, sounding angry now. “And that’s so archaic. They can’t just sell you to him. You’re not their property. You’re their daughter. Just tell them to fuck off.”

“I can’t.” I sighed again, wondering how to explain the complex relationship I have with my parents. I guess it wasn’t actually that complex. I knew they loved me in their messed-up way, but the truth was, along with that love, they also saw my sister and me as property to use for their convenience. Since we were young, they hammered in how much they had sacrificed for our family and us. My father started out with very little and was still able to make something for himself and create a life for us. Growing up without the Santorini name had given my dad a giant chip on his shoulder and an urge to prove himself to the rest of his siblings, so failure was not an option. He would do absolutely anything to be successful, even if it cost him—even if it cost him my hand in marriage.

The thing was…until his company collapsed, he had been the ultimate doting father, giving us whatever material thing we wanted. But, at the same time, he made it clear that our futures were set in stone. My sister, Patricia, would take over the company after him, and as for me, I would work for her in some capacity.

I had no choice. I hadn’t gone to college due to the financial difficulties caused by the collapse, and I had only trained to work at his watch company. I knew so many details about watches but very little in terms of business skills. I had been comfortable with that. I wasn’t necessarily a very ambitious person who had a dream job or anything. Life for me was spending time with my family and friends and raising potential kids if I did have them. I would be happy doing just about anything for work as long as it gave me time to spend with the people I loved.

But now that I had to sell myself to someone, I wished I had thought harder about my career.

Now I was stuck in this horrible reality.

No. I couldn’t go through with it. I just couldn’t.

I had to stand up to my parents and tell them unequivocally that I would not marry the count or even date him. I knew I needed to do it soon, but first, I needed to have a way of supporting myself, expecting the worst, such as if they kicked me out and cut me off completely.

“I need a job,” I said.

It was a problem that had several solutions, but none of them were significantly palatable.

The truth was that finding a job in town would not be difficult. I was a pretty affable person, so I knew I could get at least a waitressing job or something. My friend, Lucia, ran a nonprofit, and they always needed help, although I knew the pay wouldn’t be much. I could do that for a year or so, but I had to think beyond that. I had to think of a job that would also take care of my parents and maybe help offset the debt they had incurred trying to save my father’s business. The debt my father already took on was astronomical, and I needed a job that could at least make a dent in that.

It was while I was pondering this on my walk home that I noticed something.

It was a young girl who didn’t look any older than thirteen, walking toward me. I could barely see her face as it was obscured by her hoodie, but I could tell she was young by the unaware way in which she walked. She was quite tall and long-limbed, but she had the awkward gait of a young girl who still hadn’t grown into her body. She was looking down at her phone and walking in long angry strides, her curly blonde hair bouncing as she moved. Suddenly, she stopped and veered to the right, stepping out onto the main road that she was clearly about to cross. Completely unaware, she ignored the car that was still at the top of the road even though it was barrelling quickly down it, heading straight for her.

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