““What the hell do you want, anyway?" 'I just want to help you." Yeah, right. And then he'd sell her a bridge. He didn't know her, had no vested intereset in her--unless he hoped to get laid. Ha! Fat chance. He looked like he was poor, driving that old rattrap car and dressed in faded jeans. She clenched her hands into fists. "I'm not screwing you." "I didn't ask you to." And then, with some sort of warped amusement, he added, "I'm not that easy.””
