Barclay turned around when she touched him, catching himself thinking that she got dressed quickly for a girl. "What could you owe me? Money. A car. A life. Anything, really. But what you owe me for is trying to seduce me, and - apparently - for letting me keep a secret. Secrets are expensive stuff."
Barclay fell into step besides her, hands in his pockets. He just realized how cold he had grown over the course of the evening. "But it's just a favour. A nymphy little trickster like you might come in handy."