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“Like you have room to talk. Answer me.”

“No, he's not looking for sexual favors in return for money, also known as prostitution, which is illegal, which I covered with my 'no' answer to your first question.”

“Smartass.” The grip on my wrist tightens, sending a shot of excitement straight to my lady parts. What does it mean that a controlling grip gets me hot but a delicate one bores the shit out of me? Hmm, some hands-on research is needed. “I don't see the problem, then,” Ben says, turning back to his beer.

My eyes are locked on my wrist, warmth still seeping into my skin from the earlier contact. “Exactly,” I muse. “It could be fun research.”

“What?” he says, the bottle hovering at his lips.

“What? Oh, sorry, wrong conversation.”

“Hope you don't have to pass a psych exam for whatever job he's offering.”

Hmm, didn't ask that. Probably should’ve.

“I'll ask, but this job isn't ideal. I'll lose my voice, my freedom. I'm not sure there's a large enough sum to convince me to give that up. Honestly, I'm not sure I even can.”

Ben shakes his head as he angles the empty beer bottle to the bartender.

“I know you can't, baby girl. But I know you tackle anything you set your crazy-ass mind on. If you want more from this job he's offering, then ask for it. Demand it. You've never been shy about demanding what you wanted before. Why now?”

Hmm. Absentmindedly, I chew on a jagged nail. “You speak the truth, wise one.”

“Fuck, you're getting weirder as you get older, you know that? You'll end up in a padded room by the time you're forty at this rate.”

Five years from now… yeah, he's probably right.

“What's holding me back from telling him what I want?” I ask, more to myself than to Ben. “He told me what he expects and wants out of this deal. Now I need to come up with a counteroffer.”

“Surprised you didn't earlier.”

Nibbling on my pinky nail, I shake my head. “I was in shock. My nemesis in my office offering to shower me with money and gifts in exchange for my soul was a lot to take in at the time.”

“No need to wonder where our daughter gets her dramatics,” Ben mutters around the lip of the bottle before tipping it back. “But can I say something?”

I tilt the glass in my hand, indicating for him to continue.

“Why you? I mean, I'm not gay or nothing, but I saw that man, and he's way out of your league.”

“Seriously, Ben!”

“What? He's good-lookin' and rich as hell, so what does he want with you? I mean, you're….”

“I'm what, Ben?” I glare into his eyes, wishing mine shot death rays. “You certainly liked the way I looked at one time.”

“Yeah, but that was when you were, I don't know, happy? Full of life, maybe. Now you're just haggard.”

My jaw drops, my hate-filled glare going with it. “Haggard?”

“Yeah, like life has beaten you down so far that you don't even care to try anymore. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

I fight a cringe.

“If I were you, I'd have said yes before he had a chance to change his mind.”

“I don't want to be someone's pawn.”

“Then don't be,” Ben huffs, clearly exasperated. “Fuck’s sake, woman, isn’t that the problem I just solved?”