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The Romantique Legacy
"I get it," she said rolling her eyes up. "I'm a screw up, what can I say?"

Zoe Frayne sat with her arms folded across a pink mohair pullover crushing her small but prominent breasts. The pink matched the tinge of dye in her black hair, the only visible concession the punk-come-Goth girl had made to her femininity. Her black faded jeans were ripped and the whole parody of an ensemble was covered with masculine leather biker jacket.

"Look at you, you're 25 and... what are you wearing?" Masterson sighed, "You have no job, you have spent the allotment your uncle gave you at 18, and you have given up on that PhD in what was it... the impact of music on Western Civilisation?"

Masterson, Zoe's late uncle's lawyer, listed her deficiencies on his fingers.

"I said I get it." Zoe shifted uncomfortably in the overstuffed leather armchair of the lawyer's office. "I had to make something of myself by the age of 25 or no filthy money." Masterson sighed again and sat back.

"That's it then, I'm screwed." Zoe threw him a sour expression as she got up to leave.

"You want to hear about plan B first?" he said wearily.

"I can see from your face that I won't like it," Zoe grunted and gave him another eye-roll as she slumped back down.

"Your late uncle Benjamin Romantique was a very wealthy man, but an eccentric one." Masterson let out a long breath.

This was nuts, he admitted, wondering how he was going to broach the subject.

"He was out of the Ark, I know that, but I always thought he was kind of cool," Zoe snorted.

"Old fashioned, yes, that's a positive take I suppose and that brings me to the point." Masterson leaned forward and made a bridge of his fingers as he clasped them as if in prayer. "There is a man called Anthony Barnwell Steel..."

Zoe shifted uncomfortably in her seat and blushed.

"...He was your uncle's friend... I see you know of him?" Masterson put in.

"We met when I was a kid..." The words clung to her mouth like a childhood lollipop being removed from a saucer.

"If you spend the summer with him, on his terms, then however it works out you get an indexed £30,000 a year until you are 30 and then a first payment of 10 million with a second 10 million when you marry or when you turn 45, whichever is first."

Zoe was still thinking of Tony Steel and that summer not so long ago when the 'second 10 million' got her attention.

"You mean I get 10 million quid when I marry?" she said incredulously. "But what if I don't want to get married?"

"You have to spend three months with Mr Barnwell Steel first. On the same terms as you had when your uncle was alive. I believe you know what that means?" Masterson let the question hang.