Page 12 of The King Contract

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Page 12 of The King Contract

I dig into my back pocket and pull out a wad of cash. “I know it can’t replace your camera, but hopefully you can find one that works for you.”

Millie stares at my hand. “You’re giving me cash?”

“I said I’d replace it.” I shrug. “I don’t have any idea about cameras, though. I didn’t want to buy the wrong one.”

“I can’t accept that, Noah,” she says, rubbing her arms. “Thank you, but it’s not necessary.”

I take a step closer and lower my voice. “I heard it was the anniversary of your aunt’s passing yesterday. I’m sorry. Please take the cash.”

Her big brown eyes glisten. “How do you know about my aunt?”

“Google,” I admit.

Her eyebrows spring up. “You Googled me?”

“Well, I had to learn about the local business owner who’s helping me reconnect with my roots,” I explain.

Millie’s eyes narrow. “You failed to mention you’re a goddamn international superstar.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t know?”

She makes a noise of disgust. “You’re more arrogant than I remember.”

“And you’re more annoying than I remember.”

Dan coughs next to me as Ellis approaches us, a wariness in her eyes. “Can we help you, gents?”

I flash her a smile and note the way she softens slightly. “I was checking in on Millie, after yesterday.”

“Ah, yes. The near drowningyoucaused.” Ellis’s eyes flare with warning before darting to the cash in my hand. “Are you paying her hush money?”

“What? No. This is for the camera.”

Ellis frowns. “The camera?”

Millie runs a hand over her face. “I lost the camera after I fell.”

“Oh, Mill. I’m sorry.” Ellis rubs Millie’s back before glaring at me. “My mum gave her that camera.”

Way to go, King.

“I’m really sorry.” Guilt threatens to bubble as I clear my throat. “Please take the money. It’s the least I can do.”

Ellis holds out her hand and I give her the wad, which she snaps up without hesitation.

Millie’s mouth drops open. “Ellis?—”

“You heard the man. It’s the least he can do.”

Millie sighs. “We really need to get back to work. I’ve got tables to shift. Coffee beans to grind. Thanks for stopping in.”

“You guys own this place?” I ask, ignoring her dismissal. My gaze travels around the open space, dotted with sanded tables filled with goods and gift-sized trinkets. Shells and magnets, photos of the local beach. A giant surfboard hangs on the far wall with the wordsWelcome to Beanscrafted from copper wire.

“She’s not much, but she’s ours,” Ellis says, turning to look around the room. “A parting gift from my mother.”

“It’s awesome,” I say.

Millie snorts. “It was Donna’s idea of one last joke as she left the living realm. This place needs a total overhaul. Nothing’s changed since the nineties.”


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