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“Wait,” I said. “Before I agree to anything, I’d like to review the terms.”
Elena raised one eyebrow. She did it slowly, with enormous pleasure. “Review the terms.”
“It was a bet. Contracts have clauses. I’d like some say in how this goes.”
“Mark.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “You lost. You’re negotiating from your boxers. Well, from your jeans, but we’ll fix that.” Her mouth twitched. “Go on, then. What do you want?”
“A rematch,” I said. “Double or nothing. One question. If I win, the bet’s off. Or at least reversed.”
“And if you lose?”
“Then I’ve lost twice.”
She laughed, properly, head back, and I felt that familiar flutter of pride at having made her do it. Then she went quiet and looked at me with her head tilted, the way she looks at a spreadsheet that’s about to surprise her.
“You’re nervous,” she said. “That’s why you’re talking. That’s fine. It’s allowed. But you should know every bit you bargain away goes on the list for later, with interest.”
“There’s a list?”
“There’s always a list.” She picked up her phone and began typing. “Two options, because I’m kind. One, I give you your rematch, one question, my choice of category. Two, you ask me what else is on the list, and I tell you. Honestly.”
Her phone buzzed with a reply. She read it, and her smile did something complicated and delighted.
“Either way,” she said, “I should mention that was Zoe. She knows all about the bet.”