Page 75 of Darlin'

"One thousand dollars."

"Wha—" I scour the faces in the crowd, freezing as Miguel weaves his way to the front of the stage, a stack of crisp bills in hand. He smirks up at Jo and me, waving the money.

"Cash," he adds.

"Alright. One thousand...going once...going twice..." Jo briefly glances in Jesse's direction, subtly shaking her head before smiling down at Miguel. "Sold."

I blink rapidly as Miguel offers me his arm.One thousand dollars? Is he nuts?!Tentatively, I hold it, jumping down from the two-foot stage.

"Listen, Miguel," I say, "I don't know what you're expecting from me?—"

"I expect nothing but a yoga lesson taught by a very interesting and ratherbusywoman," he says, adjusting his sunglasses. I fiddle nervously with my fingers, and he places a hand on my shoulder. "Don't be scared, Savannah. My intentions are pure, believe me."

"Mhmm," I hum. Why didn't Jesse outbid him? Maybe he doesn't have a thousand dollars. Maybe that was too much money. Or maybe...maybe he doesn't care. "So, um...when did you want your lesson?"

Miguel pulls out his cell phone. "Why don't you give me your number? And we can sort it out later."

Other than the fact I don't give my number out to strangers, I surely don't want to be listed as a personal contact of a cartel member.

"Why postpone it? Let's just pick a day right now." I bite my lip. "How about Wednesday?"

"Wednesday?" He checks his phone, not reacting to my segue. "I can free up Wednesday." He looks up at me. "What's your number? I can text you my address."

Address? As in his home? As in four walls? As in no witnesses?!

"Oh, no, that's fine," I say, anxiously giggling. "I think it'll be better if we do the lesson outside. You know, in thefresh air." I give him a pleading smile. "Rosenfeld Park? 3 p.m.? Does that work for you?"

"That sounds splendid." Miguel's jaw locks, but he doesn't let the emotions reach his eyes. "I'll see you there." He glances over my shoulder and straightens his posture. "Great event, JP. Thanks for the invite."

"Yeah," Jesse says, strutting toward us. "Thanks for coming." He looks over at me, swallowing. "And for making such a generous donation to our cause."

"Anything for a tax write-off, right?" Miguel says, tension building between him and Jesse. Miguel clears his throat. "I'll see you in a couple of days, Savannah. Yes?"

"Mhmm," I hum as Miguel strolls away into the crowd. When he's out of earshot, my eyes spring open, and I stare at Jesse, completely bewildered. "One thousand dollars?! He bid one thousand dollars? Either he thinks I'm the freaking Dalai Lama, or he's going to want a little more than a downward dog! Why didn't you outbid him?" I smack Jesse's arm. "You're the one who told me to stay away from him."

Jesse's upper lip twitches. "It wouldn't have been a wise business move."

"Business move?" I frown. "What about my safety? He'scartel, Jesse! What if he kidnaps me?"

"He's not going to kidnap you. And if he does, you're just annoying enough that he might willingly set you free after a few days," Jesse says, tone low and sour. He sighs, noticing my deepening frown.What's with the attitude?! "Listen, you're the one who wanted to auction off lessons, okay? Miguel's bid won. Dealwith it."

I cross my arms. "Why are you suddenly all cranky? I'm the one that has to hang out with El freaking Chapo in two days,alone."

"What do you want me to do, Savannah?" Jesse grits his teeth. "Do you want me to come with you? Keep watch?" His throat tenses. "I can hide behind a tree with a slingshot if you want."

I glare at him.Why is he being so rude?"I don't need a babysitter."

"You sure?" he asks. "You seem awfully worried he's going to try something."

"And what if he did?" I perk up an inquisitive brow, hiding the fact a part of my heart is hurting. "Would that bother you?"

"He won't," Jesse hisses. "You'll be fine."

"How do you know that?"

"Because," he says, "that would be bad for business."

Business. Of course. Is that all that this is? A transaction? A trade? Pleasure for pleasure? Release for release? If so, then it makes sense. His lack of worry. Lack of care. I get it. I can appreciate his overextended confidence to a degree—he's a businessman, after all—but a part of me, a part that I'm terrified has the potential to hurt me, is disappointed. But why? Jesse doesn't owe me a damn thing. I'm not his girl. I'm not his old lady. I'm just?—

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