Kaminski frowned, somewhat at a loss. He generally didn't know how to respond to people who smiled when they made jokes. It seemed too earnest to him, even when it was anything but. "No, we don't rent the kids out anymore."
He flipped to the appropriate page in the notebook. "Okay, anonymous donation, general funds..." He slid the notebook across to Zio. "Here are the figures for what our previous benefactors donated to give you a general idea, unless you already had a number in mind."
He moved back from the table an inch or two, trying to avoid breathing in the scent of Zio's coffee. It had a sobering effect on him, which was sort of the opposite of what he was going for this evening. He really wanted to take the check and run, taking refuge in the nearest dive bar. If he were really honest he would have had Zio meet him there, but he'd chosen bright, sugary Starbucks instead. Why? Because air hockey tables are unprofessional, he told himself.