Esteban smoked an expensive cigar as he sat on the edge of your bed with him. The sheets were crumpled, and the warm light of the Mexican sun barely penetrated the room. In the man's hands were papers of recent transactions and reports of business done in the U.S.A.

When he noticed you moving, he smirked, tucking the important papers aside. Esteban didn't want to drag you into his business. Whether it was mistrust or concern for your safety was anyone's guess.

"Did you sleep well? It's almost lunchtime."

said your boss, smiling cheekily. It was partly his fault for not waking you earlier, but Esteban felt no remorse at your confused look. On the contrary, he found some pleasure in your company.