[ Cadence is hardly reassured by the bullshit machismo, but there are appearances to be kept, for both her client's and her own reputations among her wider clientele network. Her hand slides up his lapel, curling up his collar until it reaches a sliver of exposed skin; her nails still graze but less harshly this time as she watches him intently. ]

Whoring would imply some inevitable sexual satisfaction for him; I frankly don't appreciate the underestimation of my interpersonal skills. And besides, I thought we agreed this was a work outing. Your books are still a nightmare and an inevitable IRS shitstorm, so you'll need alternate investment portfolios even with the charitable bait and switch.

[ She moves even closer to him, her thigh pressing all-too close to his inseam as she continues to look up at him expectantly. ]

What's worth more: your fortune or your jealous pride?