Page 22 of Fight Or Flight

“To your appointment?”

“No. I mean, do you want to come to my wedding? On Saturday.”

“Umm . . .”

“I know this is a little weird, but I would love for you to meet my fiancée. I actually told her about you a long time ago,” she said with a laugh.

Natalie wondered how she could get out of this. It was super weird to get invited to a wedding the day before. She couldn’t say she was busy—she’d already suggested Saturday. She glanced at Chelsea, who was watching the exchange with a grin.

“Are you sure? Don’t these things get planned out months ahead of time?”

“We’ve had some people cancel last minute, so there’s room.”

Natalie wavered for a moment. “Um, okay,” she said. “Why don’t I drop by in the evening for a drink?”

“Perfect!” Amy said. “Here.”

She handed the stack of binders over to Natalie, then opened one and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen.

“The reception is at Cherry Hill Estate Winery. It’s just outside of town.” She jotted the address down and handed the paper over, then took the binders back. “This is going to be great!”

Natalie smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

Amy hurried off down the sidewalk, then crossed the street and disappeared.

“Wow,” Chelsea said. “Such anawfulplace, eh? People here aresohorrible.”

“That,” Natalie said, pointing a finger in Amy’s direction, “is the only nice person in this town. Maybe her parents, too. But I can assure you, everyone else is awful.”

Chelsea crossed her arms again but kept a smug, disbelieving look on her face.

“Whatever. I’m not staying.”

Chelsea dropped her arms. “Fine. I can’t make you stay, and I obviously can’t buy you out. Even if you gave it all to me, I wouldn’t be able to afford the upkeep on a house that size, and I can’t fight the Monroes on my own. Not to mention, where would I even work? So I have no choice.”

Natalie breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“There’s only one problem.”

“What?”

“I can’t help you with this.” Chelsea handed Natalie a yellow legal pad.

“What is this?”

“Speeler handed it to me as I was chasing you out the door. It’s the list Grandma made of all the heirlooms the Monroes are inheriting.”

Natalie panic-flipped through the top three pages. Speeler had covered them front and back with at least thirty names, the item that corresponded with the name, and date and time when theywere to be picked up. She flipped through to the backside of the last page. “What . . . This goes on for two weeks?!”

Chelsea nodded. “Apparently a lot of them can’t be in the same room together, so they came up with a schedule.”

“Can’t I just throw all the shit on the lawn and let them have at it?”

Chelsea snorted a laugh. “No. Anyway, I’m in school, and I have . . . other obligations. I can come next weekend to help you, but that’s the best I can do.”

Natalie closed her eyes and rubbed around her eye sockets. What a nightmare. She wanted to be in and out of Mapleton as fast as possible, not interacting with every fucking Monroe in town. At least it didn’t conflict with when she had to be in Sydney. She’d have to call Jess, tell her she was in Canada and see whether someone could cover her for the first two weeks of her last tour. She could still salvage this.

“Fine. I can handle this. I’ll get all the damn Monroes their shit and get the cats to the humane society. But after that, I’m leaving. You’ll have to hire the real estate agent and sell it on your own.”

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