Clara blinked. "But I happen to love money."
"..." James didn't want to talk to her anymore. "Name your price then."
She tilted her head, mischief in her gaze. "How about a thousand?"
The moment she said it, she felt slightly embarrassed—but he was a capitalist who'd eaten her ravioli! A thousand wasn't too much. Right?
James stared at her for a moment before suddenly leaning down to kiss her.
Clara froze completely.
"Y-you—aren't we comrades? Comrades don't kiss comrades..." Her face burned crimson.
"That's the deposit," he said.
"What? You think you're some top-shelf escort? A kiss doesn't count as—" She immediately regretted her words.
True to form, James wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her again. He just wanted to kiss her—the feeling was both simple and complicated
