Today it was a stock broker, she liked them more. Very handsome and very desperate where as bankers and politicians were always so old and skeevy even for her. He had called her at a construction sight at the intersection on 5th. As he went on and on about his portfolio Wicked tried to maintain a believable level of interest as she slipped her shoe off and led it up his leg until eventually it rested on the spot between his legs.
"So what you're telling me is that if everything goes right for you tomorrow you'd be set for life?" She asked swirling the cherry in her drink around. The man, who was clearly turned on by her cleared his throat and gave a small squeak in response which Wicked assumed was a yes.
"It's just uh, ten years is a little short don't you think?" He asked nervously. Wicked's smile fell and she sat up right her chair.
"You're thirty-six right?" She asked. "Your diet, your work environment and considering how much you drink you can't possibly expect to make it to fifty. You think you're the first one to make a deal with me? Why do you think so many of your kind die so young?"
"Still,"he was hesitating and Wicked was getting her purse. "Wait, what about twenty years?!"
"Oh please! I didn't give Stalin twenty and I liked him, I'll give you twelve."
"Fifteen?"
"...deal."
He smiled thinking he had won. The fool just sold his soul for fifteen years of fortune when they both knew he'd prefer a lifetime of it. He stood to shake her hand but instead she pulled him in for a deep kiss.