Page 16 of The King Contract
Gossip sites eat it up, Noah’s fanbase is receptive, and we’ve had people swinging by Beans all week. No crazed fans or paparazzi or anything. Mostly people taking an interest and staying for coffee and cake. I’ve had a few people glance my way, but I’ve done my best to ignore that.
By closing time on Friday, we’ve had one of the busiest days in months. Lauren, one of our staff members, slumps against the bench. “If hanging out with Noah King for a couple of hours can do this, we’re going to need more staff. And food. We sold out of banana bread in an hour.”
I haven’t mentioned Noah’s proposal to anyone. Not even Ellis. Despite the fact that it appears to be giving him good press, the entire thing seems stupid, and I don’t want her to feel conflicted like I do.
As I make my way out the back to the storage area, I discover Ellis sitting in the middle of the room on an upside-down milk crate, a polaroid of her and my aunt in her trembling hand, her other hand pressed to her mouth, sobs bursting through as she shakes.
“No one tells you how shit death anniversaries are,” I say softly.
Ellis lifts her head and laughs, waving to her running mascara and shirt dirtied from her snot and tears. “Do I still look pretty?”
I walk over and help her up, wrapping her in a tight embrace. “Always.”
She sighs into my hair. “I can’t believe we’re both orphans.”
“Your dad is still around,” I point out.
She scoffs. “He bailed twenty years ago. It’s safe to say he’s not coming back any time soon. Ergo, orphan.”
She wipes her makeup-stained face with the sleeves of her shirt. “I miss her, and I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m doing.As much as I love everything my mother did for us, leaving us with her business and medical debt isn’t one of them.”
I grimace. Australia has an amazing healthcare system, but you don’t realise how many additional fees and costs are involved until you’re directly impacted. Chemotherapy, radiation, hospice, carers—all of it added up. Our money provided for Donna, which we had no qualms about, but everything else suffered. Bills, the mortgage, the lease on the store . . . Donna’s cancer was a surprise, and she deteriorated rapidly. There wasn’t enough time for careful planning. Ellis and I took out loans and now we’re falling further into debt.
“We might have to sell this place, Millie,” she whispers.
“No—”
“It’s okay,” Ellis assures me. “I don’t want to work in this shop forever, but I wish we could do something with it before selling it to get ourselves out of shit. I want to sell it on my own terms, but I don’t think we have that luxury.”
Ellis, usually confident and upbeat, positive and jovial, is now a blubbering, crumpled mess.
“We won’t have to sell,” I assure her, rubbing her back. “We’ll figure this out.”
Me
I need the money
Noah
I need the help
Me
Just for the summer?
Noah
Just for the summer.
7
MILLIE
Your new life is with me
Noah’s home is beautiful.
A long driveway snakes away from the main road into a lush space surrounded by trees. The house is a combination of wood and stone, with a slanted charcoal roof and a chimney rising from the centre. I’m admiring the panelling on the heavy timber door when it swings open.
