"Thank you," Peez said coldly. "The translation was not necessary. Neither were the financial buzzwords. I studied the reports: I know what you're worth to the company on paper."

"Same way I know what I'm really worth to you, right now." Martin Agparak had large, perfect teeth. When he smiled it was like facing a friendly grand piano. "Too bad about your ma, but that's the way it goes, sometimes. She was one sharp cookie. I guess you have to forgive a little pushiness if it gets the job done. So—" He tilted his safety goggles back up, then removed them entirely and twirled them around one finger by the elastic. "You want something from me, I want something from you, I'm on deadline with that totem pole and you probably have another plane to catch: Let's talk."

"Well, someone around here doesn't seem to need a chainsaw to cut to the chase," Teddy Tumtum commented. "Do we talk out here or do we go someplace where we don't have to breathe wood?"

"Hush, Teddy Tumtum," Peez said, picking the little bear up by the scruff of his neck and sticking him in the crook of her arm. "I can handle this myself." She turned to Agparak. "What he said." She indicated the bear. "We both want to talk, but I'm not going to do it out here."

"So where do you want to talk, angel?" Martin said with a lift of his upper lip.

"Gee, I don't know," Peez replied, deadpan. "Think we could find somewhere around here that serves coffee?"

* * *

Peez lay back among the pillows in Martin's bed and stared at the ceiling. "I blame the espresso," she announced.

"Espresso?" Teddy Tumtum leaned over the top of the headboard, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "From where I was standing it looked more like cafe au lai—"

"Shut up!"

"Why? You've got nothing to be ashamed of. You're a grown woman. You ran a medical history viewspell on him before you jumped into anything. You sounded as if you were having a good time. And perhaps most important, you never once made any puns about Agparak's personal totem pole. Good girl! Points to you for self-restraint, and help yourself to the biscotti. You earned it."

"But I've never done anything like that in my life!" Peez whined. "I'm a virgin, for Vesta's sake!"

"Um, not to point out the obvious, but not any more, you're not."

"I don't even like him! He's snide and opportunistic and mercenary and—!"

"You called?" Martin Agparak came back into the bedroom carrying a tray. It was laden with a pair of cappuccino cups large enough to drown kittens. He set the tray down on the night table, sat on the edge of the bed, and offered Peez a frothy cup. "Was it good for you, too?" he asked with a roguish look worthy of Teddy Tumtum.

Peez groaned and buried her head under the goosedown comforter.

Martin looked to Teddy Tumtum for aid and comfort. "What's her problem? I didn't think I was doing anything wrong, not pressuring her into it, not rushing things. You were there, you saw! It was creepy having you hanging off the back of the bed the whole time, watching us, but still, you did see what was going on. If she wasn't behaving like a consenting adult, she was doing a damn fine imitation. I thought she was enjoying it!"

"Trust me, she was," the bear said.

"So what's wrong now?"

"Well, I'm no mind reader, but I've been with her a long time, so I kind of understand the way she thinks." Teddy Tumtum motioned for Martin to lean closer, then shielded his mouth with one fluffy paw and whispered in the artist's ear, "I think she's afraid you'll think she only slept with you to get your support."

"I am not," Peez's muffled voice came from under the covers.

"Good, because it'll take a lot more than that to earn my backing," Martin said. He drank half his cappuccino in one gulp, then peeled the comforter off Peez. "I've got to admit, girl, you got my number: I am mercenary. That's what it takes to survive, these days. So I like to eat on a regular basis, so sue me. Man does not live by coffee alone, not even in Seattle. The future of E. Godz, Inc. is a part of my future; my economic future. The new head of the company can make or break that future for me. I'm not about to give my vote to one candidate over another just because she's good in bed."

"It's not just your future we're talking about here, you selfish— What did you say?" Peez stopped in mid-scold, letting the comforter drop unheeded.

"He said you were good in bed," Teddy Tumtum repeated in a stage whisper that might be heard throughout Martin's one-bedroom apartment. Peez grabbed him by one leg and threw him across the bedroom. He splatted against a poster for the previous year's Seattle International Film Festival.

"Hey! Why'd you do that?" Martin protested. He retrieved Teddy Tumtum and held him against his chest. "What'd he do to you?"

"Told her the truth about herself once too often," Teddy Tumtum replied in a melodramatically weak voice. He gave a few tubercular coughs, for added effect, then added: "That's a hanging offense with Ms. Peez Godz."

Peez glowered at the pair of them. "You're both unspeakable brutes!" she announced. Then she burst into tears.

The bespelled bear and the Inuit sculptor exchanged a look whose meaning transcended all borders of race, place, time, and even species. It contained the cornerstone truth of the Universal Male Language, which was, roughly translated into mere words: I don't know what's the matter with her. Do you know what's the matter with her? I don't know, but I'm sure as hell not going to ask her. Asking always makes it worse, and she'll only complain that if we really cared about her, we wouldn't have to ask, we'd know. Okay, so in that case let's just wait it out. I mean, shoot, she can't cry forever, can she?

And lo, within five minutes Peez had in fact stopped crying, thus proving that some truths really are eternal.

Martin gave her a tissue.

Peez wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and handed it back, then sheepishly asked, "Was I really good in bed, or were you just saying that?"

"Trust me." Martin smiled. "And for a first-timer, too!"

"I've read a lot."

"I wish you'd give the name of that library to some of my other girlfriends." When she flashed him a wounded look, he raised both hands and said, "Aw, come on. Don't tell me you think that—"

Peez turned her head away. "This is just the sort of heedless, reckless, careless thing my brother would do."

"Not with me, he wouldn't," Martin said.

"If it meant getting your backing, he would."

The sculptor grabbed her by both shoulders and made her look at him. "Peez, you're a smart woman, and no matter what the glossies say, brains really are better than beauty for getting you what you want, in the long run. So stop acting stupid, okay? I didn't sleep with you because I wanted preferential treatment with E. Godz, Inc. and you didn't sleep with me because you were hoping to turn me into one of your corporate allies. What I do want is someone who can help me get my carvings into the big-name, high-ticket art galleries back East. I'm not throwing my support behind either you or your brother until I've seen proposals from both of you showing me you've got the plan and the power to get me what I want. Clear?"

"Very." For a wonder, Peez found herself smiling and she felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Her head rang with happy thoughts, though she couldn't tell whether she was getting the most enjoyment out of the one exulting He said I was good in bed! or the one that proclaimed He said I wasn't like my brother at all!

Peez extended her hand to Martin and shook his firmly. "I'll get that proposal to you ASAP, Mr. Agparak. I'm sure you'll find that my plans for the future placement of your artwork will meet all your needs. Thank you for doing business with E. Godz, Inc. We hope for your repeat business soon."