My tongue runs over my teeth as I look to the side.
“Just tell me,” he encourages.
Yeah, just tell him. Show him that it’s not a walk in the park over here, that he can’t cut me a check for five hundred dollars and think he’s saving a candy shop.
Crossing my arms, I say, “Thirty thousand dollars.”
There.
Eat that.
Now leave me alone.
“What are your bank details to transfer the money to?” he asks, without blinking an eye.
Did you see that? My jaw just hit the ground.
“Uh…what?” I ask.
He sticks his hand in his pocket and repeats, “Give me your bank details and I’ll organize a transfer.”
“You’re…you’re not serious.”
“I am.” He nods. “Very serious. Thirty thousand is nothing.”
Nothing?
NOTHING?
Thirty thousand is a lot of money, something that I’d never see in one giant sum in my lifetime. And he thinks it’s nothing?
“That’s…that’s a lot of money. Did you hear me correctly? I said thirty thousand U.S. dollars. As in five digits.”
“Yes, Renley, I heard you. Thirty thousand U.S. dollars is roughly twenty-two thousand pounds. I have the ability to organize a transfer of funds.”
I shake my head in disbelief, because he can’t be serious. This…this isn’t real.
He thumbs toward my house. “Should I ask Kitty? Maybe she’d be less stunned and more able to answer me.”
Okay, the snark knocks me out of my shock.
“Why on earth would I take your money? And how can I trust that you actually have it? Are you part of some sort of drug scheme?” I gasp, hand to heart, and then take a step back. “When you say you’re a future lord, do you mean drug lord? Because I’m going to tell you right now, I will not have any part in black market money. No way. I’m an upstanding lady and I refuse to bend my morals to get some quick cash.” I brush him away with my hand. “You can take your drug lord money and try to finance someone else.”
He scratches his cheek, silent for a moment before he says, “Who hurt you?”
“What?” I ask, stunned.
“Someone in your life must have hurt you for you to be this distrusting.”
“No one…no one hurt me.”
“Okaaaay,” he drags out. “I don’t believe you, but we don’t have to get into that now. What I can tell you is that my name is Theodore Williams the Third. You can look up my family and see that in fact, my father is Lord Dunebary and I’m supposed to assume the title when my father steps down from his duties. We have the money to help, and you have my word on that.” The serious tone to his voice makes me actually want to believe him. “I’ll let you get on with your walk and I won’t bother you this morning. This afternoon though…I’ll be waiting for you.” He moves away. “Oh, and while you’re walking, think about my offer. If you need the money, Gossy, I’ve got it.”
With that, he winks and then takes off toward his house in his chino shorts, loafers, and collared shirt.
Did he really think he was going to work out in that outfit?
Those aren’t even sensible walking shoes.
