“But she must have enjoyed it?”
“She was a starfish,” he confesses. “Even when I gave her some of my best moves.”
“You have moves?”
“One or two. Clearly I need to up my game, though. I think she even fell asleep at one point.”
I giggle, and he grins. Then he smiles. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Thank you for the money.”
“You know I’d have given that to you anyway.”
“I know.”
He tips his head, studying me, although I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Have you told Mark yet?” he asks.
I nod. “I called him from Mum and Dad’s while they were listening.”
“What did he say?”
“Not much. Nina cried. Mum cried. I cried. It was a very emotional few hours.” It occurs to me then that Mark didn’t say thank you. But I suppose he was overwhelmed.
Kingi’s brow flickers with a frown. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s a good thing. You’ve helped a lot of people. All the debt will be paid off. We’ll be able to mend the lawnmower, get straight at the firm, maybe even buy some new equipment.”
His expression softens. “You’re not going to spend any of the money on yourself?”
“I don’t need anything.”
“You had twenty-seven dollars and forty-three cents in your account,” he reminds me.
“How did you remember that?”
“Luck.”
Of course, he’s a finance wizard. I forgot he has a head for figures. “Well, you mentioned expenses for clothing, remember? They do some great dresses for forty-nine ninety-nine in the Warehouse, and I’ll save the rest.”
“For fuck’s sake. Look, I’ll be taking you to a charity ball soon. I want you to treat yourself to a really nice ballgown. Spend at least a thousand.”
“It had better be made of solid gold if it’s going to cost that sort of money,” I joke.
“I’ll give you the name of some superior stores in town,” he says, “and I expect you to show up there and buy something suitable.”
My smile fades. “You’re serious about the ball?”
“Look at my face.”
Oh shit. I hadn’t considered that I might have to accompany him to something as high profile as that. And all joking aside, I can’t turn up in a dress from the Warehouse.
“You’re determined to make me reenactPretty Woman, aren’t you?” I complain.
He looks puzzled. “Most women would be thrilled to be given money for clothing, and to go to an upmarket event like that.”
“I’m not most women.”
“Clearly not,” he says softly. His gaze slides to the windows. “We’re close to the city. Come on. Let’s head back to the car.”