"Not a chance," Rick replied. "Edward was not senile or delusional at all. He was in full charge of himself when he added that clause, Ash. I'm sorry. There is no way around this. You'll have to get married in the next eighteen months, or you'll lose it all."

Tiffany Pietro d'Angelo, Joe's wife, had been sitting in on the meeting. She had become his legal assistant a few years ago, when their children had left for college. "The trouble with lawyers," Tiffany said softly, "is that you don't think outside the box."

"You have a suggestion?" Ashley asked hopefully.

Tiffany nodded. "What about an old-fashioned arranged marriage?"

"An arranged marriage? What's that?" Ashley wanted to know.

"You're crazy," Joe said to his wife.

"No, I'm not," Tiffany replied. "What, you think in the twenty-first century things like arranged marriages no longer exist? Well, they do. And that would seem to be Ashley's only way out. Are you seriously proposing she turn up her toes and let SSEXL have everything? Let Lila Peabody, the old bitch, get it all? No way!"

"Somebody please tell me exactly what an arranged marriage is?" Ashley said.

"It's an old-fashioned way of matching people up by religion, economic background, ethnic similarities, that kind of thing," Joe said.

"It's a legitimate possibility," Rick said thoughtfully, "but where are we going to find a match for Ashley, Tiff?"

"Yeah, Tiff!" Joe echoed sarcastically.

Tiffany Pietro d'Angelo was a slender, petite woman with champagne blond hair. No one had realized how very smart she was until she had gone into her husband's office ostensibly to help out after their last child had gone to college. But Tiffany had been listening to Joe for over thirty years, and once in the office she had learned quickly.