“I could use a man of your skills, once my health club finishes”—he gave Demeter a sour glance—“reprioritizing.” “You couldn’t afford me,” I said. “I’m going to be able to afford a lot,” he said. “Name your price.” “One hundred and fifty-six gajillion dollars,” I said promptly. He squinted at me, as if trying to decide if I was joking. Or maybe he was just trying to figure out how many zeros I was talking about. “Think you’re cute, huh?” “I’m freaking adorable,” I said. “Especially with the raccoon face I’ve got going here.”
