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After work there is play for pay.

d it to me, I asked, "Deena, if money wasn't a concern, would you want to go to college?"

She was quiet for a moment, holding my credit card and tapping it on the table subconsciously. Then straightening her back, she snapped out of her moment of reflection and said, "I don't like to dwell on hypotheticals." She turned and walked briskly away. That little pause was all it took. I had my answer.

When she came back, I said, "Deena, I'll double my tip from last time if you sit down and talk hypotheticals with me for a few minutes after your shift."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "That tip was more than I made in a 10 hour shift."

"Double it," I said confidently, putting the cash on the table. "Just to talk."


"Can we sit here after closing time?"

"For about 10 or 15 minutes, yeah."

"Will you talk with me? About hypotheticals?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug. "Why the hell not?" Walking back towards the kitchen, she looked over her shoulder at me. "See you in ten," she said. I smiled and took a sip of my lemonade.


"Yes," she finally answered. "Yes, if tuition and living expenses were paid for, I would want to go to college. Somewhere to study business. I'd like to get an MBA or something." It had taken almost five minutes of me pressing the issue to get her to let down her guard and answer the damn question.

"And what would you be willing to do in order to see that happen?" I asked, trying to slowly work towards the shocker. But Deena was too smart for that.

"Look, Mr. Wright. I'm not stupid. You're coming in here flashing big bills at me, talking about college. Obviously you got something in mind. Can you just out with it and stop wasting time?"

I stared at her for a good half a minute. I fought hard against the urge to look down again, where her breasts were so tightly packed into the button-down shirt of her uniform that two of the buttons strained to hold. The shirt was small, I guessed. But the breasts were not. I managed to hold her gaze - directly into those disillusioned brown eyes - for almost a minute before looking away. I opened my mouth to speak, but she preempted me. "And I'm guessing you've got more squared away than just your teacher's salary."

I couldn't hold back the smile. Well, I held half of it back, giving a crooked smirk.

"I propose we help each other out."

"Oh Lord," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know that look in a guy's eyes."

I continued as if I hadn't heard her just read me like a book. "Work for me for a year. Save up enough to fully pay your tuition and have some extra to get started on living expenses."

"'Work' for you?" she replied, putting air quotes around the word 'work.' She was smart, no denying.

I lowered my voice to barely above a whisper. "Move in with me. Be available for sex anytime I want. I'll pay you $250 a day."

She didn't even flinch.

Her eyes kept moving around - she was thinking. After two minutes of silence, I ventured to comment, "You haven't slapped me or screamed at me yet. That's a good sign?"

"Just trying to figure out which terms to negotiate first," she said. Seeing my face light up, she quickly clarified, "That's not a yes! I just want to be clear on what you're asking so I can make an informed decision."

"OK, so what do you want clarified?" I asked.

"So I live with you. Do I still gotta pay for my own food and stuff? I might use up half of what you pay me just getting by during that year. And what do you tell people - that I'm your girlfriend?"

"I'll cover all expenses in the house. But transportation, entertainment, eating out, everything else - that's on you. I'll pay for birth control - implant, pill, IUD - whichever you prefer, and-"

"All my health insurance," she interjected.

I paused.

"Non-negotiable," she stated, folding her arms across her chest.

"We'll come back to that," I suggested.

"Waste of time moving on if you're gonna say no to that," she said, shaking her head.

"We'll come back to it," I repeated.

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