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My suitcase was already packed, sittin’ by the door. The gift I got for Juicy sat right on top of it. All I had to do was find an earlier flight. And if I couldn’t find one, I’d charter me some shit. If I ever came back to L.A., it wouldn’t be by choice.

Three weeks ago, I started letting Jela handle communication with Juvie. She accompanied him to the last two youth events. Even simple things went through Jela, like confirming appointment times. If it was a virtual meeting, she was always present. I couldn’t take any chances. It didn’t stop his ass from watching every story I posted on IG or texting me without getting a response. But today, I couldn’t hide behind Jela. This deal was too important. I worked like a dog to just get a meeting with these people. And Juvie had to be there.

The Nike deal I’d secured for Juvie was already major, but this was different. We were negotiating a global expansion of his existing partnership, all the way in Tokyo. A global ambassador role. Signature cleats, an apparel capsule, huge press, shoots, and multiple appearances across international markets. It was the deal of a lifetime for both of us. But the longer I sat across from Juvie on this jet, the more I regretted going so hard to get him this deal.

He sat back in his seat with his hoodie pulled over his head, jaw tight like he wanted to cuss me out, but of course, I couldn’t even get a hello from him. If he was mad, that was fine. It made my job easier. But right now, we needed to talk. This was a five-day press run, meetings, contract signings—the works.

“JuMarion.”

He looked at me and didn’t say shit. I rolled my eyes and scrolled through the itinerary.

“When we land, we’ll check into the hotel Nike set up. Then, we’ll head straight to their main office. A suit should be waiting for you, pressed and ready. Nike will provide you with your own concierge. Please read over what I’m sending you carefully.”

“Cool,” he said, reclining in his seat. “Anything else, Savannah?”

I kicked off my shoes and leaned back. “Nothing at all.”

I opened my laptop, trying to keep my mind sharp and off Mr. Clean’s mean ass. My inbox was flooded with consultations from prospective new clients, but I didn’t have the patience to deal with any of them. I read the same email five times and still couldn’t make sense of it. All I could see was Rolex and Dice Williams. I marked it for Jela to look over the details and moved on.

Every time I started typing and responding to emails, Juvie huffed like I was bothering him. I ignored his black ass, and all that did was make him open a bag of chips, crunching loud as hell.

“Uhm… Can you keep it down, please?”

“Can you stop typin’ so fuckin’ loud?” he grumbled.

I slammed my laptop and turned to him. “Listen! Whatever personal issues you got, keep that shit at home. This is business. Unfortunately, we have to be on this flight for hours. But to appease your baldheaded ass, I’ll move. Enjoy your flight,” I hissed.

I snatched up my shit, but his hand landed on the armrest before I could stand.

“Sit down.”

I looked at his hand, then at him. “Move.”

“Nah,” he said, shifting his body toward me.

I blew out an irritated breath. “Juvie… I am not about to argue with you on this plane. Just move.”

“Then stop actin’ like I did somethin’ to you.”

My stomach dropped, and I looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leaned back and stared at me. “For an intelligent mufucka, you be actin’ a lil’ delayed. You just don’t wanna deal wit’ this shit. But it’s cool. Go ’head.”

I grabbed my shit so fast and moved to the back of the plane. My heart was beating so hard when I got to my seat that I had to rub my chest to slow it down. Juvie was right. I didn’t want to deal with him or all the shit that came with it. The flight attendant came down the aisle and offered me a drink. I ordered two shots of tequila, a Sprite, and a chicken Caesar salad for lunch. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until my fork hit the bottom of the bowl.

My phone dinged, and I opened it, hoping it was a funny meme or something business-related. But of course, it wasn’t. It was a message from Juvie.

Juvie: Sav, we ain’t gotta talk. Just don’t make me sit on this long-ass flight by myself. We better than that.

I turned my head slowly, and he was staring right at me. I looked back at him for a few seconds, then rolled my eyes so hard that they could have gotten stuck.

This nigga.

I grabbed my shots and stood, taking my sweet ass time walking back up front like I wasn’t doing exactly what he wanted. His big ass was in the aisle on purpose. He was making me acknowledge him. Juvie liked getting under my skin, and it was working.

“Can you move?” I asked, stopping in front of him.

His mouth twitched, but he had enough sense not to smile. “Thought you wasn’t fuckin’ wit’ me.”