I reach for my boobs the way I always do when it’s time to close the sale or move the fuck on, but my sweater reminds me this isn’t a strip club.
“Mmmhmm,” I nod. Keep looking interested, self.
Behind him are hundreds of other men, all in black suits, and a few dozen women dressed up like Corporate Barbie for free. Usually guys like this have to pay $300/hr to talk to me. This will pay off later, I remind myself. Much, much later. Besides, even if it doesn’t I’m making a good connection.
I’d just really prefer to get the money up front or peace out.