“You’re going to have to start,” he said suddenly.

I sat up straighter. It was just six words, but in them, I could feel all the anger and rage I’d seen on his face the night of the concert. I felt my stubbornness slip, if only slightly, as I tried to figure out what exactly it was that needed to be said.

I swallowed. “Okay,” I said quietly. I shifted on the couch, folding my legs beneath me, and stared at a particularly shiny spot on the glass coffee table that was catching the moonlight in just the right way. The absurdity of the moment wasn’t lost on me, but I forced myself to push forward.

“Well, thanks for calling,” I began. “I know this is…crazy, and I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. And I know this isn’t an easy conversation to have, and I just want to say that, for the record, none of this is about judgment for anything that’s going on or, you know, I can’t speak to the, um, relationship that you have with Emma or your wife or anything like that, but it would be completely out of place for me to comment on that. That’s not what this is about—”

“Hey,” he jumped in.

I stopped speaking, grateful for the interruption. “Yes?”

“Let me start, since you’ve obviously never done this before,” he said dryly. “How much do you want?”

I froze, my stomach turning over not so much at the words he was saying but how he said them.

“Sorry?”

“Money. How much do you want?”

“I—”

“Oh, come on, Paula. You have got to do better than this.”

The first time he said my name, he’d been flirting with me, or so it seemed. He’d said it softly, seductively, and I’d played right into it, blushing like a schoolgirl in the front seat of my car.

This time was different. This time, he drew out my name, lingering over the syllables with purpose.

This time, he was sending a message—I know who you are.

“Well?” he asked. “How much?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never done this before?” he asked with an incredulous laugh. That went on for a while, him chuckling loudly, and it was obvious he didn’t actually find anything funny. “What do you think we’re talking about, Paula? Skiing? A threesome? I’m sorry you’ve never done this before, but you really need to catch up quickly. There is, of course, the option of not doing it…”

We sat there silently for a moment, and finally, he spoke again.

“So, how much?”

I cleared my throat. “Well, I was hoping you would tell me how much you’d be willing to give me as a reward. You know, for the phone.”