Page 111 of The King Contract
Everyone else does the same, handing over their phones to the staff who bag and tag them. I’m not surprised. This is a private event, where no photos are allowed, and NDAs are at the ready. I’ve been to plenty of parties like this and even hosted some myself. But I would’ve appreciated being able to finish my conversation with Millie.
Callum hooks his arm around my neck and presses his thumb in between my eyes. “I can see that frown from space. Don’t stress. We won’t stay long. Just long enough for you to lock this deal in and for me to try the most expensive whiskey on the menu.”
Callum’s right. I need to stay focused and do what I came here to do. This is my career, what I’ve been chasing all summer, and it’s at my fingertips.
I won’t be long, anyway.
45
NOAH
Put your foot down
When I dragCallum into the foyer of the speakeasy forty minutes later, I’m about ready to punch someone. The traitor sunk more than a couple of free beverages in the small time we were here and is now high fiving everyone as we make our way out of the establishment, his arm looped around my neck.
“Stay here,” I command him, leaning him against the wall. “I’m getting our phones. Where’s your ticket?”
Callum pats his pockets before shrugging. “I dunno.”
I groan under my breath, dipping my hands into his pockets. Callum giggles as I search him and kisses my face as I rifle through his wallet. “Bro, I’m not missing Millie’s show because you lost your ticket.”
“Youlost your ticket,” he slurs.
I offer him a hard smile. “So helpful. Wait here.”
The woman behind the counter retrieves my phone from its lockbox and tells me without Callum’s ticket, we will not be collecting his.
“So, we just get him a new phone?” I ask, incredulously.
She quirks an eyebrow. “He can call us tomorrow to sort it out.”
“With what phone?” I snap.
I don’t wait for a response as I return to Callum, grunting with frustration when I realise my battery is dead and cursing myself for my constant bad habit of not keeping it charged when I really need it.
“We’ve got to get your phone tomorrow,” I tell him, glancing at my watch. By some miracle, Millie’s event has just under an hour to go. If we leave now, we should make it for the last half hour. “Come on. There’s a cab out here.”
Callum nods as he gulps from a bottle of water, allowing me to guide him to the taxi. I ask the driver to take us straight to the café.
The driver glances at us in his rearview mirror. “Is that in Fingal Heads?”
“Yes, please hurry.”
“I ain’t driving to another state,” he grumbles. “And look at this weather. I don’t want to get stranded nowhere.”
“There’s an extra two hundred in it for you if you can get us there in twenty,” I tell him, holding up the bright green notes. The driver hastily pulls out of the lot.
Going to the afterparty was not ideal in terms of timing, but it paid off. Toby and Sam agreed to sponsor me for the first three events of this year’s championships on a trial basis, even having their assistant email me the agreement while we were in the bar. It’s a bit of a probation scenario, to make sure I don’t mess it up and that it’s worth their while, but I don’t care about any of that—because I won’t mess it up. I’ve got sponsors, ones that are drowning in money and good press, who have already organised merchandise for me to wear next week. Mack is going to lose it with excitement.
I tip my head back and let out a relieved laugh. Things couldn’t get any better.
Callum smiles drunkenly next to me. “Why you laugh?”
“I’m happy, bro.” I slap him on the thigh. “We did it.”
“Toby and Sam said yes?” he asks, glassy-eyed.
I nod, grinning. “They said yes.”
