[Her mouth is already opening, poised to argue, some starting syllable half verbalized before it occurs to her that she does. It's a sour realization; her distaste for it plays obviously there in her face.]

I have something in the kitchen.

[That something is a bottle of rather good (objectively! Her taste in liquor is rather excellent, thank you, and she will sock him in his jaw if he pretends otherwise) brandy and rather less appealing molasses cookies gone just slightly too hard. But he is under no obligation to eat them, Wysteria thinks bitterly as she works her teeth through one.]

I dislike the idea of giving someone else too much ownership over the project. It would be better to raise funds independent of the project.