She's going to go out on a limb here, given how he asks it. Not that it stands out. It's subtle enough. But she'd spent a life looking for the most minute marks and fluctuations in rusty, rough old hunters who would make Kaz look chatty. She's betting he's itching for a seat that puts only walls to his back, one where he can see all the exits and everyone coming into the space.

Easy peasy, Jo rolls off: "Dealer's choice."

She pauses on her heels, waiting for his choice. "I've got a lot of history with the hissy fits people throw when I don't like being told no isn't an option. I'm not afraid of stupid men in cloaks with a naked person kidnap fetish."