“Like I said, he didn’t leave me as much as you may think.”

“But he left you what he had.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to the money?”

“It’s a long story.”

And not one she intended to share.

Message received.

He switched gears. “Why come to me of all people?” He at least deserved an answer to that question.

She watched two seagulls flutter down and snuggle up together ten feet away. “Because you cared for me, once.”

He wasn’t going to fall for the hint of wistfulness in her inflection that suggested she’d harbored feelings for him too, back then. He knew better.

“Like I said, that’s ancient history. Over and forgotten.” He used his most dismissive tone.

She searched his face, her voice soft but certain as she responded. “If that were true, you wouldn’t still be angry with me.”

Checkmate.

But no way was he going to admit she had the power to rouse emotions in him—of any kind—after more than a decade.

“I’m not angry.” Liar, liar. “But I am in a hurry.” Also not true. His night shift didn’t start for hours. “How much money are you talking about?” Not that it mattered. Of course he wasn’t giving her a loan. But refocusing the conversation on her request would deflect attention away from the sudden, simmering anger she’d detected. Anger he thought he’d long ago put to rest.

She transferred her weight from one foot to the other and gave him the amount.

Not paltry—but not a fortune either. Well under six figures. Less than the amount her father had dropped on her each year as he indulged her every whim.

Strange how their situations had reversed. He could write a check for that total and never miss it.

But she didn’t know that.

Or did she?

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a chunk of change. What makes you think I have that kind of money?”

“I saw your debut book in the library two weeks ago, on the bestseller rack.” Her gaze didn’t waver, suggesting she was telling the truth. “I picked it up because the title intrigued me, and when I flipped it over, I saw your photo on the back. The name didn’t match, but I knew it was you. I remembered you telling me you wanted to write a book someday. Finding it on that shelf was like a sign from above. An answer to my prayers for guidance.”

He didn’t attempt to hide his skepticism. “Since when did you get religion?”

“I’ve learned a few things through the years.”

“Like what?” The question spilled out before he could stop it, and he threw up a hand. “Never mind. Not interested. How did you track me down?”