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.