Page 54 of Echoes of a Southern Song

It’s flattering. And suspicious. And I still don’t quite know what she’s getting at.

“Appreciate that,” I say.

“You know, most guys in your position would jump at the chance to have someone like me in their corner. All you’d have to do is let me take you out of this place.”

I chuckle, trying to keep it light, but there’s something about her tone that sets me on edge. “That’s a hell of an offer,” I say, taking a sip of water. “But I’m not exactly looking to be taken anywhere.”

She tilts her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. “You sure about that?” Her hand brushes against my arm as she leans in even closer. “I’ve been known to take young men just like you and make them very, very happy.”

I’m young, but not stupid. I know innuendo when I hear it.

“Well, I guess this answers that question,” Jinnie says from behind me.

My heart drops.

I turn, and there she is, looking stunning and absolutely furious. She’s dressed to kill. Makeup. Hair. All of it. I haven’t seen her dressed like this before. I wish it was under different circumstances.

“Jinnie—” I start, stepping toward her.

She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t. You don’t have to explain. I get it now. You’ve got groupies. Women who want you because of what you do up there. That’s not me. I would never be so shallow. I’m clearly not your type.”

The other women awkwardly step back. The blonde just raises an eyebrow, watching like this is entertainment.

“Jinnie, it’s not like that.”

“Oh no?” she snaps. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”

“I wasn’t flirting with her.”

“She was flirting with you.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t flirt back!”

“But you also didn’t walk away,” she says, voice trembling just slightly. “You didn’t say you were taken. You didn’t even look uncomfortable. You looked like you were loving it.”

That stings. Mostly because I don’t know how I looked. I was trying so hard to play it cool, be polite, not cause a scene. But maybe I came off all wrong.

Jinnie storms out. I stand there for a few seconds watching her disappear.

“Shit.”

I run out after her. If I have to choose between singing or her, it’s always going to be her.

I follow her into the alley, lit by one flickering streetlamp.

“Jinnie. Stop.”

“Go away, Jack. Or should I say Jumping Jack?”

I cringe. “I can’t control what they call me.”

“No, but you don’t have to feed into it.”

“Jinnie, it’s an act,” I say.

She stares at me, clearly not impressed with my excuse. I don’t blame her.

“You know how nervous I was to come here tonight?” she asks with emotion in her voice. “How I stood in front of my closet for twenty minutes trying to find something that made me feel even halfway decent? Because I wanted to look good for you. Because I thought maybe you’d want me the way I want you. I knew I was going to come here and see women fawning all over you but this... I can’t do this.”