"Are you really that desperate for money?"
"Yes."
"How desperate?"
I locked my eyes on hers and spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"Desperate enough to come here knowing I'd be wrecking someone's marriage."
The woman broke into a wide grin, genuinely amused.
"I didn't expect you to be so honest."
At that moment, I felt like a complete fool. I knew she was toying with me, humiliating me on purpose, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.
"The deposit. I'll find a way to return it to your husband."
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going."
The instant I stood up, she grabbed my arm.
"Wait."
I stopped. Turned back slowly.
"What? Does Ms. Fletcher want something to happen between us after all?"
She removed her sunglasses and looked at me with an expression that was dead serious.
"Tristan, do you really not remember me?"
Every muscle in my body locked. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
"How do you know my name?"
She motioned for me to sit, then spoke in a measured voice.
"We sat next to each other for three years. All through high school."
The words hit me like a freight train, and a face surfaced in my memory. A girl with twin ponytails who was always tugging at my sleeve, pestering me with questions.
"You're Cordelia?"
The woman sitting across from me blinked, and her eyes went red at the rims.
"I thought you'd forgotten me."
I couldn't move. Couldn't think.
Of all the ways I could have run into a high school classmate, this was the last scenario I would have imagined. And the thing I could not wrap my head around was that the girl I once had a secret crush on had married a man in his fifties.
"How could you..."
The rest of the sentence died in my throat. I couldn't bring myself to finish it.
Cordelia slid her sunglasses back on and waved her hand lightly, brushing it off.
"What? You're allowed to work as a host, but I'm not allowed to marry into money?"
My whole body was shaking.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous your situation is right now?"
"I know."
Her voice was so quiet it barely carried across the table, as if she were talking about the weather.
"But I want you to get that money."
I stared at her.
"So, what? You're planning to sleep with me?"
"And the next day, photos of us end up circulating through every elite circle in Bayport."
Cordelia said nothing. She just stirred her coffee with one finger tracing slow circles around the rim of the spoon.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. My voice came out loud enough to turn heads.
"Cordelia, have you lost your mind?"
"My mom's surgery, I'll figure it out myself. I don't need your charity!"
She raised her head slowly. When she spoke, there wasn't a trace of hesitation.
"No. This isn't charity. This is my choice."
"Between being in bed with an old man and being in bed with you, you're the more attractive option."
"After all, you're the top-earning host, aren't you?"
I sucked in a breath and forced myself to calm down.
"We were classmates, fine, but you don't have to go this far for me!"
Cordelia looked at me as though this was a decision she had made long before I walked through the door.
"Tristan, I already told you. This is my choice."
"As for why, that's my business. You don't need to know the reason."
"But..."
I still couldn't accept sleeping with a woman I'd known for less than an hour. Even if she was the girl I once had a crush on. The prettiest girl in our class.
"There are no buts. Do you have another way out?"
I didn't.
If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here.
