Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
M itch had arrived at the bank promptly when it opened. Now, he sat in the manager’s office. “That’s right. I need three certified checks.”
“Yes, sir,” the manager said. Clark Williams. He barely looked old enough to drive. But then, everyone looked young to Mitch these days. “We’ll get those taken care of right away. What amounts did you want on the checks, Mr. Ripley?”
“One for twenty thousand, one for thirty thousand, and one for fifty thousand.”
Clark’s brows lifted but the shock on his face vanished quickly.
Mitch narrowed his eyes. He realized he was asking for a hundred thousand dollars in checks, but it was his money. He could do what he wanted with it. “Is there an issue? My accounts have more than enough on hand.”
“No problem at all, sir.” The manager jotted the figures down on a notepad. “And the payee on the checks?”
“Make them all out to Addison Keeler.”
Clark wrote the name out, spelling it as he did.
“That’s right,” Mitch said.
Clark looked up. “Wouldn’t one check be easier?”
“No.” Mitch didn’t have to explain himself. He’d been banking here for as long as he’d lived in Hideaway Bay. If this high schooler couldn’t help him, he’d call the bank president. He’d golfed with the man once in some charity tournament a decade ago.
Clark cleared his throat as he stood, notepad in hand. “I’ll just be a moment.”
“Great.”
He left. Mitch exhaled and studied the man’s desk. Other than the computer, name plate, stapler, and a card holder with his business cards in it, the desk held nothing. No family photos, no personal mementos, no sign the man had a life outside of the bank.
Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe he was newly promoted and hadn’t had a chance to bring any of those things in yet. Whatever the case, Mitch hoped there wasn’t going to be a problem. He’d promised Angelo he’d bring the checks by this morning.
Clark returned about ten minutes later, carrying an envelope. “Here you are, Mr. Ripley. Please have a look at those and tell me if they’re as they should be.” He sat behind the desk again, a tentative smile on his face.
Mitch opened the envelope and paged through the checks. All the right amounts, all the right name. He nodded. “Thank you, Clark. These look fine.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Ripley. Is there anything else we can do to help you today?”
“No, that’s it.” Mitch stood up and tucked the envelope into his back pocket.
Clark got to his feet. “Thank you for doing business with us. I’m, uh, I’m a big fan of your books, sir.”
Mitch gave him a nod. “That’s great. Thanks. Have a good day.”
He headed for the door. After all these years, he still never knew what to say to fans. It always felt so awkward to him. He got in the car, pulled out his phone, and made a note to send Clark a signed book.
He drove straight to Lucas’s, parked, and went to the front door. He knocked.
Lucas answered. “Hey, Mitch. Come on in. We’re just having breakfast.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not. Angie’s expecting you, right?”
Mitch nodded. He followed Lucas. Angelo was seated at the counter, a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast in front of him. There was another plate two spots over where the counter made the turn. Scout was laying in the sun coming through the sliding glass doors. Mitch gave Angelo a nod.
Angelo nodded back, chewing. “Morning.”
Lucas had the coffee pot in hand and was refilling his own cup. “You want some coffee?”
“I would,” Mitch answered. “Thanks.”
Lucas poured him a cup and handed it to Mitch. “I’m sure you’re here to talk to Angie. You want me to go into my office?”
Mitch sipped the coffee. It was good. Maybe not as good as his brand, but not bad. “I am, but I don’t need privacy.” He set the cup down and pulled out the envelope. He laid it on the counter by Angelo. “The three checks, as we discussed.”
Angelo put his fork down and picked up the envelope. He glanced inside. “My goal will be to get her to go for the least amount possible.”
“Whatever negotiation you need to do, I don’t care.” He’d discussed this with Angelo already. Even if it meant giving Addison all three checks, it would be money well spent. “I just want that paperwork signed.” He’d faxed over the custody agreement he’d paid his attorney for.
“That’s the goal.” Angelo folded the envelope and put it in his shirt pocket. “I’m leaving today. I have a flight out at one.”
Mitch nodded. He knew all this. “Godspeed.”
Angelo went back to eating. “I’ll let you know how it goes, and of course, I’ll have documentation for you when I get back.”
“Thanks.” Mitch drank more of the coffee. He had work to do. Pages to write. He hadn’t journaled or checked email, either. All he’d done so far was run with Bunny, shower, spend a little time with Ruthie, then gone straight to the bank. But leaving immediately would be rude. He glanced at Lucas. “Today’s the big day for Joyce and Beryl, huh?”
Lucas, who’d sat at the counter in front of his plate, nodded. “It is.” He looked at the time. “Show is uploaded and scheduled. It goes live in a little over an hour.”
“You’d think the two of them were being launched into space the way they’re acting.” Mitch shook his head, smiling. “I hope it does well. For all of you.”
“I’m sure it will,” Lucas said. “They’re great on camera. Even if they don’t realize that. I already know I want them back.”
“Well, now that Beryl’s staying, you should get that chance.”
Lucas looked up. “Beryl’s staying?”
Mitch nodded. “She’ll have to take care of things in the U.K. and get her belongings moved over, but she’s coming on as Ruthie’s nanny.”
Lucas grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. You don’t mind me having her and Joyce on again, do you?”
Mitch shook his head. “No, not at all. They can do what they want.”
“The thing is…” Lucas started. “I think they’re a marketable property.”
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning they could have their own show. If they wanted to.”
Mitch snorted. “This is Joyce and Beryl you’re talking about. They’re incredible but I don’t believe their talents extend to technology.”
Lucas laughed softly. “No, I don’t suppose so. But I’d be willing to set everything up. All they’d have to do is come in and cook, basically.”
“Really? That’s quite an offer.”
Lucas ate a piece of fruit from his plate. “I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m doing it because I believe they have the potential to make money. If I create a channel for them, I’ll run it under the umbrella of my company. I’d give them half of whatever revenue was earned, of course. I think that’s fair.”
“Have you talked to them about this?” Mitch asked.
“Not really. I didn’t think there was a point with Beryl just visiting. But now…” Lucas nodded. “I might. If you’re not opposed to it.”
Mitch crossed his arms. “I’ve just hired Beryl. And we rely on Joyce. How much time would this require?”
“Initially, one day a week. No more in most cases. Once in a while, maybe an extra half a day. I know you need them both. I’m not looking to take them away from you.”
“Good to know.”
“What I’d like to do is get five or six episodes filmed, then release them one a week for a month. That would be a great way to build the channel. Then we could ease back to one every two weeks or even one a month.” Lucas shrugged. “This is all subject to change, of course.”
“Well, if you think it could work, talk to them.”
“Thanks.” Lucas seemed surprised that Mitch was agreeing to it.
“I should get going. Thanks for the coffee. Angelo, I look forward to our next talk.”
“You got it,” Angelo said.
“Lucas.” With a nod, Mitch headed for the door.
“Hey,” Lucas called out to him. “Racquetball on Monday?”
Mitch smiled. “You bet.”
When Mitch walked into his house, delicious aromas, both sweet and savory, greeted him. He went upstairs and found Joyce and Beryl in the kitchen, baking away. “Are you two opening a shop?”
Joyce laughed. “No, we’re just doing a little baking. Well, Beryl is. She’s making chocolate chip banana bread. I’m working on a pot of chicken chili for lunch. Your son is in his room, working, and Ruthie is having a nap.” She glanced down. “And this one thinks she’s helping.”
He moved to look behind the island and saw Bunny, sitting nearby, watching the two women with keen eyes. He chuckled. “Come on, Bunny. Come into the office with me.”
“You want coffee?” Joyce asked.
He was pretty caffeinated, not something that usually bothered him, but Lucas’s coffee must have been stronger than he was used to. Mitch could practically feel it. “No, I think I’m going to switch to water.”
She nodded. “I’ll get it for you. Be right in with it.”
“Thanks.” He patted the side of his leg. Bunny came to him. “Good girl. In the office. Let’s go.”
She followed him and took a spot on the couch. He woke his laptop up. Joyce came in, set a tall, insulated stainless-steel tumbler on his desk, and slipped out again, closing the door. He went straight to his email.
There were a handful, as always, but the one that stood out was from Lucinda. He clicked on it.
Two words. Call me.
He didn’t know what to make of that. It could be bad news or good news. It might be about Kyle’s book or it might be concerning a deal she was working on for Mitch. With a sigh, he picked up his phone, found her in his Contacts list, and tapped the icon to call. He didn’t call often, so he expected her to pick up pretty quickly.
Lucinda answered after the first ring. “Mitch!”
“It’s me.”
“This book is going to be phenomenal. The publishers are already interested, and I promise you, all I’ve done is told them about it.”
“You mean Kyle’s book.”
“Yes, of course.” She swore softly, Lucinda’s way of expressing most of her emotions. “I knew they’d jump on it, but the response has been outstanding. I’ve got my assistant reading it now. Not that I need her opinion, but it’ll be good to have her on board. Did you talk to him about using your name? What’s the decision on that? I need to know. I want to go out with this formally so the publishers can actually read it. Mitch, I can smell the money.”
Still smiling, he shook his head at the urgency in her voice. “We’ve discussed it, but he hasn’t given me a decision yet. I was waiting to hear from you.”
“Well, you’re hearing from me. I don’t have numbers yet, but I want you to talk to him. Is he there? Can you see if he’ll change his mind? Or at least think about it some more? Then call me back.”
“All right.”
“Fantastic. Talk to you soon.” She hung up.
Mitch put his phone down, took a sip of the water Joyce had brought in, then got up and went to see his son.