“Thanks, Noah.”
“Tomorrow morning, six?”
“You’re going to cough up a lung.”
He flips me off. I smile, take the stack, and tuck it into my tote bag before heading for the deck.
Standing behind the bar, Miles shakes a cocktail shaker to some private rhythm, eyes half-closed. He pours the contents into a glass, tastes it, winces, adds something, shakes again.
“I’m onto something,” he mutters to no one in particular.
Kai and Maya come in together, hair still damp. Maya’s in a sarong and bikini top, Kai in boardshorts and a surf-school T-shirt. They leave their sand-caked flip-flops at the edge of the deck.
“Mira, you got everything ready?” Maya says, leaning over the contracts.
I hand her a copy and pass another to Kai. He sits down and starts skimming.
“Walk-through before we get the keys?” Maya asks, turning the pages carefully.
“No need. You can move in whenever you want.”
“And the keys?”
“Two sets for the house—you two can figure it out. You can make extra copies if you want. I’m keeping the third.”
She nods, keeps reading. Kai’s already done. He initials each page, signs the last one, hands the contract back.
“Who’s taking which room?” Maya asks.
“You’ll figure it out. Mine, upstairs, stays locked. The other five are yours.”
“Vale,” Maya says, signing in turn.
Miles turns toward us, shaker in hand.
“What are those contracts?”
“Rental agreements for Summer’s house,” Maya explains. “I’m taking the biggest room.”
“Oh yeah? I’m interested too.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“Living with roommates is driving me up the wall. You’ve got a yard—a real one. And I’d be three minutes from the lodge.”
“You’re moving out?” Maya says. “Ay, good. You’ll liven the place up.”
I blink. I hand Miles the copy meant for Maggie.
“Here. Want to read it?”
He sets the shaker down, grabs a pen off the bar, initials, signs, hands it back.
“No need. I trust you.”
He picks the shaker back up, pours his latest attempt into the glass, and tastes it. He narrows his eyes with absurd seriousness.