I let him drone on. Cabbie had been as far north as O’Hare and as far south as Harvey, out here since eight o’clock this morning. He had dropped off people just itching to tip because they were in a good mood, anticipating the once in a lifetime chance to see Jordan fly. His nails were manicured, clipped, and buffed to a new money shine, made so just so they could flicker when he handed a young girl like me a piss-colored drink in a smoky lounge. If he was smart like my daddy had been, he would have dropped his half day’s take off somewhere earlier in the day. He would have pulled out just enough cash to be able to make change, but left the real money somewhere besides his pockets or the console of his cab. He had probably dropped it off to a wife about his age, whose homemade buttermilk corn bread and day-long beans couldn’t get him home right at twilight like they used to. But that still left half the day. He was too young to be incapable and too old to be in crisis. He could get it up to do it to me if he wanted to, and it would be exactly what he wanted to do.

“You want to go somewhere, just me and you?” I suddenly asked him, and I imagined my ears sealing shut so they didn’t have to hear what was coming from my mouth. He chuckled, and I let him continue until he turned again, and I saw the look reappear.

“I mean, you said you off work,” I said sweet. “What you do for fun? Maybe we could go somewhere and have some.”

Fueled by desperation, I didn’t want him to get a word in edgewise—yet. Aunt Jewel had taught me that to get what you want from a man, you have to fool him into believing that what you want was his idea in the first place. And I wanted every single dollar he had in this damn cab.